RELIEF WORK.
The General Situation--Absolute Destitution--Appeals to America and
England--Work in the Sassun Region--Van and Dr. Kimball--Appeals
following the Greater Massacres--Clara Barton and the Red
Cross--Opposition of the Turks--Letter from Van--After the Massacre
in Harput--Suffering in the Villages--Appeal for Help.
No one can fully understand what these massacres have meant to the
Armenian people who does not understand their manner of life; and no
one can understand that manner of life by mere description. It must
be seen and experienced. A few general remarks, however, will assist.
In the first place it must be remembered that there is absolutely
no system anywhere in Turkey of banking by which savings can be put
aside. Whatever of money is accumulated is immediately invested in
land or business, is loaned out or is hoarded. As a matter of fact
there is comparatively little of either done by the great mass of the
peasantry. The tax-gatherers understand perfectly how much each man’s
property is worth, how much the harvest will bring, how much clothing
and house furniture he has, and for centuries have made it their
particular business to see that it will not so develop as to give him
exceptional power. The fact that the general communities have been as
prosperous as they have been is, in view of all the circumstances, a
marvelous tribute to their industry and thrift. For the most part,
however, all have lived a hand to mouth existence, managing through
the summer and autumn to secure enough provision to keep body and
soul together through the winter, and starting in on the spring with
almost no supplies. Their clothing is of the very simplest; heavy,
coarse cloth and cloaks of sheep’s wool. The house-furniture is almost
nothing; a few quilts, an occasional mattress, a small table or two, a
few pots and kettles, sum up the entire property of the great mass of
the peasantry in the villages. In the towns and cities proportionately
it is scarcely better. True, the Armenians have had the trade of the
entire empire practically in their hands, yet it was rare that they
could secure more than a bare living. The collection of debts was
almost impossible, especially from Moslems. They were subject to all
manner of injustice. On the slightest pretext the municipal authorities
would enter in and confiscate anything they chose. In the towns there
was possible a certain amount of investment in the way of loans, but
most usurious rates of interest were charged, all the way from twelve
per cent. per annum to five per cent. per month. The risk, however,
was proportionate and many a man was happy if he secured enough of
his principal, and enough of his interest together to give him a very
slight income. The house-furnishing was more elaborate than in the
villages, but by no means such as would be considered even comfortable
in this country. A few merchants lived well, but the great mass of
artisans and tradesmen were poor with a poverty that is scarcely known
even in the slums of our great cities. Under such circumstances, to
destroy the homes and furniture, the shops and their merchandise, was
in itself a most terrible loss. It left the people without capital
or trade, without the means of everyday life. When to this was added
the wholesale massacre of men--the bread-winners, the employers, the
laborers--the situation was something terrible. Families without number
were left absolutely destitute, with no food to eat, with scarcely any
clothing, and in some cases with no clothing, with no homes to live
in, and with absolutely no hope of any support except as it should
come from sympathizing friends. Add to this the general demoralization
referred to in the preceding chapter; the utter despair as the
result of the bitter cruelties of the Turks and Kurds; the terrible
outraging of women, destroying the very essence of true womanhood,
leaving perfectly blank horror to take the place of home life--and the
situation is something which in this country cannot by the most vivid
picture be absolutely understood.
It has always been to the honor of America and England that they have
been in the forefront to relieve destitution, and no sooner did the cry
of these sorrowing and destitute ones come up from every portion of the
Turkish Empire than it met with a hearty response in both countries.
After the Sassun massacre and through the summer of 1895 repeated
efforts were made to bring relief to that comparatively small section.
Many were provided with food, and a commission of relief was sent by
the English to assist in the distribution and help on the general work.
A Turkish commission was also appointed, with what result will be seen
below. It would appear as if this was something that would appeal to
all; and yet the distributers, some of them American missionaries,
some of them English consular officials, found themselves constantly
hampered by the opposition of the Turkish officials and, most of all,
the Turkish Relief Commission. Objection was made to the distribution
of relief, and when relief was given, the tax-gatherer came around to
see that the proceeds of relief came back, first in their own pockets
and then in driblets into the imperial treasury. A few paragraphs from
letters written in that summer by an American will give an idea of the
situation:
“Dr. R. joined me at Bitlis and we talked with the Governor, who, of
course, was very smooth, though I felt he had other things in mind. The
promised letter was not quite as I expected, though the Mush Mutessarif
seemed to meet us and Mr. S. (an Englishman), pretty cordially,
and supplied us with a guard. Promised tents for the sick were not
forthcoming, while people from Dalvorsig were in trepidation from
fear of the Kurds and were being pressed to sign petitions of thanks
to the Sultan, or, as a condition of relief at the hands of the local
Mutessarif, who ended his words by saying that if they did not sign
such a paper, he would set the ruffians upon them to extermination. So,
with Mr. S., I went down to see the Mush Governor, having in mind also
to hasten on the supplies for the sick.
“But, as might be expected, jealousy of the government, local and
general--at Mush and Constantinople--leads to throwing about us all
possible hindrances. The guard supplied, two men, speak Armenian. One
of them is chief secretary of the Mush police, and boasts that he is
sent with us to spy out and report all our doings. Of course, we are
doing nothing we are ashamed to have him know, only we had put in our
protest against two men nominally being supplied when but one, came and
he with no gun and deputized from his government to serve as a spy for
its purpose, while our men have to feed and serve him.
“We reached here the 12th inst., and soon put ourselves in
communication with the Turkish Relief Commission, composed of five
members, two of them Christians--calling on them the day we came. They
returned our call the next morning and seemed provoked to good works,
as we hoped, claiming to be on the way to hunt out lumber for the
buildings, in forests controlled by Kurds. The next day they assigned
all of 44 ‘godes’ of millet to this village of more than 70 houses,
making a gode to about 28 persons. When I was at Mush on the 23d ult.,
though I did not succeed in getting into the province, I pushed on a
scheme of relief through other hands and inaugurated the sowing of some
65 kilehs (the kileh is 20 to 25 bushels) of millet, the near villages
loaning two hundred oxen to help on the enterprise. The time set for
the oxen was ten days, but the owners have been patient now for 30
days. The day after our arrival we got a few men at work in a small
way on the old desolate walls, though there is but one person left
alive in this village, and in Sennik, near by, not one. The commission
has been sitting here these three months and, so far as appears, has
done nothing, save to give out less than £400 of the reported £2,000
($8,800) in its hands and distribute 185 godes of millet; not a sound
of hammer has been heard towards rebuilding the devastated houses. The
members of the commission draw 40 piasters, $1.60, a day (in a country
where 25 cents a day is high wages). We have come to give free service
for humanity, and they now act the part of the dog in the manger. On
Monday I was at Mush and with Mr. S. called on the Governor, arranging
matters satisfactorily so far as words go, but, alas for empty words
and lack of good deeds in this justice-lacking land!
“They make their declaration that nothing is to go direct through our
hands, though we may oversee--they are the accredited Commission to
do the work, and why should we take the trouble? To this we replied
that we had come for work, not ease, and we alone must be responsible
for the funds in our hands, just as they are for the funds in their
hands, though we will cheerfully consult with them as friends and are
willing to show them account of every expenditure, and they may do the
same toward us. But they were implacable, boasting of written orders
as to how work for all must go on through their hands. At first they
suggested, and we accepted the apportionment of their choice, that
they get up the lumber while we work at building, as well as feeding
the multitude. This time Dr. R. takes his turn at the wheel, and has
gone down to see the Mutessarif in company with the Consul (English),
most likely to see what the fates are to evolve. There is hope the new
Consul may arrive today, and Mr. S. had news by telegraph he could
leave. This seems to indicate a bit of progress in the reform line,
though the flying in the face of our efforts for humanity by the local
government, backed, of course, from Constantinople, looks in the
opposite direction.”
More encouraging was the report given by the Van Armenian Industrial
Relief Bureau of its work during that same summer, under circumstances
where the Turkish Government were unable to hinder as much as in the
more isolated villages of the Sassun region. We give a few extracts,
not merely to show what the work was and how it was done, but to give
an idea of the need:
“This province would be--if common safety prevailed--a great
wool-producing country; while abundant cotton is brought from our
near neighbor, Persia. This suggested a simple solution of the work
problem. In response to appeals made in anticipation of certain future
demands, some small sums of money had, as early as June, come to us
for our distressed people. And on the strength of this money, and the
increasingly urgent demands for help, a tentative and very simple
beginning was made. A bag of wool was bought, weighed out into pound
portions, and whenever a woman came begging for help or work, her
case was investigated, her name registered, and she was given wool to
card and spin. On return of the thread, it was weighed and examined
as to quality: the woman was paid at a rate that it was estimated
would supply her with bread, and she was given another lot of wool.
The giving of two or three lots in this way was enough to bring down
on us a crowd, and speedily we found a large business flooding in
upon us--one demanding good organization and a corps of distributers.
Cotton was added to our supplies, and all the processes and tricks of
the two trades were quickly investigated, and every attempt was made
to put the enterprise on a sound business basis. Infinite watchfulness
was necessary in guarding against impostors, and in preventing petty
thieving and unfaithfulness on the part of those who took work. The
medical work had given us acquaintance with the people, and from our
ex-patients we were able to select at once those whom our hearts had
ached to help to gain a living--those whom sickness had forced to
sell everything--and a good corps of helpers was soon organized. Men
to keep the door--and it often took three men to do this against the
clamoring crowd; men to receive and weigh the wool, cotton, and thread;
men for the various demands of the Central Bureau. For the first two
months the work was accommodated in our house, in the rooms used as a
dispensary, and we were in a state of siege from morning to night. The
long lower hall was devoted to a row of cotton-carders, the twang of
whose primitive cards, and the dust of whose work, filled the house
from early morning till dark, while a crowd of wretched men and women
were never absent.
“The accumulation of thread brought the necessity for weavers and all
the processes of weaving had to be studied with their peculiar tricks
and merits. The demand was met at once by weavers who were out of work
and in dire poverty. The thread was given them by weight, and the woven
goods received by weight; and they, in turn, were paid with due regard
to the needs of their families. Then to the children and some who were
too weak and sick to do the heavier work, yarn was given to be knitted
into socks.
“Shortly, we found ourselves in possession of a good stock of cotton
cloth, woolen goods for the loose trousers worn here, and huge piles of
coarse socks. And the question what to do with them came to the front.
The suggestion was made that this work might help and be helped by the
Sassun relief work, by our supplying materials for distribution there.
The proposition was submitted to Messrs. Raynolds and Cole and gladly
accepted by them, and this arrangement has been the means whereby our
Bureau could double its efficiency, thanks to having an assured market
for all its produce, without affecting the said industries here, which,
on the contrary, it should help.
“Our goods are done up in bales here, loaded on donkeys or ox-carts
and carried down to the lake harbor. There they are received by the
miserable little sail-boats that ply the lake and taken--with prayers
for insurance--to the opposite side of Van Lake, a distance of some
sixty miles. Thence they are transported by horses or carts to Mush,
the headquarters of the Sassun Commission. The journey takes from
ten days to two or three weeks, according to the weather and other
exigencies of travel in this land. The entire distance is only about
one hundred and twenty miles.
“In this way we have already sent some 2,000 pairs of socks, and 1,400
webs of cloth, to the value of £ T. 216 ($950). A good market can be
had here in Van for all our products, and, indeed, we have sold enough
here to bring our total sales up to £ T. 258 ($1,156). But selling here
has the disadvantage of bringing down the price of goods and injuring
the poor producers, while, on the contrary, our trade with Sassun has
had the incidental advantage of advancing the price and thus helping
the community by so much.”
The total number of workers is as follows:
Spinners of Cotton and Wool 373
Weavers of Cotton Goods 49
Weavers of Woolen Goods 22
Weavers of Carpets 5
Carders 9
Spindle Rillers 9
Sizers 4
Weighers, Door-tenders, etc. 5
---
Total 476
With the greater massacres that followed the disturbance in
Constantinople and Trebizond, there broke upon the Christian world
a revelation of horror and of terror that was even greater than
any previous. From every side came the most piteous appeals to the
Christian world. Language itself seemed to fail in telling of the
situation, and many a sturdy man and high-hearted woman felt absolutely
helpless as they looked out over the plains, into the villages and
along the streets of the most prosperous cities, and saw starvation
and death staring hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children in
the face. Some conception can be gathered from the paragraphs in the
preceding chapters. Those need not be repeated here. It is sufficient
here to say that everywhere throughout England and America there was
a prompt and cordial response. We have to do especially with the work
in this country. Committees were formed in a great many cities and
Armenian relief associations of one kind and another were organized.
Armenian Sundays were observed by many churches; collections were taken
in churches, Sunday-schools, colleges, societies and mass-meetings;
journals opened their columns for relief subscriptions; individuals
collected funds privately; Armenians throughout the country contributed
from their slender resources; and the money was forwarded promptly to
the field.
The question immediately arose as to how this money should
be distributed. The first thought of everyone was the American
missionaries. They were known to be disinterested, to be wise, to be
impartial and thoroughly in sympathy with the need. But they were in a
very difficult position. They were looked upon with suspicion by the
Turkish Government, and to a large degree by the Turks themselves,
many of whom felt that their influence was political and that their
work was directed to the ultimate subverting of the whole Ottoman
Empire. At the same time there was no one else. The absolute lack of
banking facilities throughout the empire made them practically the only
persons through whom relief could come. A single illustration of the
situation is furnished by the statement that the Armenian Patriarch
in Constantinople when he wished to send money to his own people in
Eastern Turkey was obliged to come to the Bible House and secure
the drafts of the treasurer of the American Missions. Money sent by
mail was never sure of reaching its destination. The Turkish postal
arrangements were all at odds, and more than that, the reception of
money in any interior city by any except foreigners was merely the
pretext for the appearance of Turkish officials who sought to deprive
the people of what little they had. Moreover, there were many sections
that the missionaries themselves could not reach. They were under
suspicion in their homes and traveling was almost impossible. For a
time there seemed to be hesitancy on the part of many lest the money
that was contributed should not reach the people who needed it. The
proposition then was made most naturally that the great Red Cross
Society should furnish its aid. Its record, not merely in war but in
famine, was most noble. In Russia and in this country it has done
yeoman service. The appeal came first from the field and from those
who, ready and willing to do all they could, felt that the burden was
heavier than they could bear. The appeal met with a cordial response
and Clara Barton, notwithstanding her advanced years, rose immediately
to the emergency and gathered her forces to join with those already
on the field for the relief of the thousands of suffering ones. It
was at this time that an effort was made to combine the different
relief committees in this country, and the organization was effected
of a National Armenian Relief Committee, with Justice Brewer of the
United States Supreme Court as its president and Brown Brothers, the
well-known bankers at 59 Wall Street, New York City, as treasurers.
Other organizations were invited, not to sink their own individuality
in this general committee, but simply to co-operate with it. For a
time it seemed as if everything was going favorably and Miss Barton
was on the point of starting. Then came the well-known objection of
the Turkish Government. Word was sent that the Sultan absolutely
refused to allow the Red Cross to do the work. In the first place
he denied that there was any work needed; affirmed that the stories
of suffering were false, gotten up purely for political effect; and
that whatever work was needed was already being done through Turkish
officials and could be carried out by the corresponding organization
in his own empire called the Red Crescent. Miss Barton, however, and
those in charge of the committees, were not discouraged. Appeals were
sent through Congress and the President and in an unofficial way
pressure was brought to bear by Minister Terrell in Constantinople.
The result was that at last objections were overborne and Clara Barton
and her associates reached Constantinople. From there they have spread
throughout the empire using the means already at hand of assisting
those who are overborne, and are bringing relief to the sufferers in
all the empire.
To give that work in all its details would require a volume by itself.
Erzrum, Trebizond, Bitlis, Van, Mardin, Harput, Sivas, Cesarea,
Marsovan, Urfa, Aintab, Marash, are the centres. To them from every
direction come in the anxious suffering victims of the most barbaric
cruelty the world has ever known. From them go forth the streams of
life to the thousands of poor unfortunates unable to leave even the
miserable shells of homes left to them. Engaged in this work are noble
men and women of high education and the greatest refinement. It is no
easy task for them to meet the scenes that face them on every side.
Regardless of threats, fearless of disease, anxious only to do for the
poor people, whose sole return can be a “God bless you,” spoken out of
depths such as are unknown in more favored lands, they stand at their
posts clothing the naked, washing the wounded, binding up broken limbs
and soothing broken hearts. Well did Sir Philip Currie, the British
Ambassador, say of them, that in the great cloud of disaster and ruin,
the one bright thing that stood out before the world was the courage,
devotion and common sense of the American Missionaries. And now they
are joined by Clara Barton, representing altogether that highest reach
of American help for the needy. A grand company, an object lesson to
the world of American Christianity.
We can do no better than to give extracts from letters from Van and
Harput, describing the relief work in those places. The following was
written in Van in December, 1895:
“Dr. Kimball now employs over nine hundred persons, who represent
over forty-five hundred souls who are kept from starving and freezing
this winter through her efforts and the contributions of friends. Yet
she has to turn away hundreds of applicants who crowd around her daily
with such desperate persistance that she cannot walk from her workshop
here without being fairly pulled to pieces by the famishing crowd. It
can readily be imagined that this turning away of applicants is the
hardest part of her work. Of this nine hundred the greater part are
spinners and weavers, and are paid off by a native employe; eighty-six
are sizers, carders, cutters and weighers, whom she personally pays
off. On one Saturday evening she paid off these men and opened a new
account with each between half-past four and half-past six. But since
the beginning of the massacres of the last two months, her work has
been trebled.
“Some of the villagers, many in fact, were forcibly kept within their
own boundaries, to starve. Thousands of others, in the scanty rags
left them, toiled, hungry and half frozen, through the snows to the
city. Dr. Kimball immediately undertook, single-handed, to relieve
them. Immense crowds of the miserable creatures throng her court daily.
She has the case of each investigated, thoroughly and with despatch,
then registers him, gives him a ticket on the two bread ovens she has
rented and runs herself, and gives him clothing--clothing which has
been manufactured by her own workers, from the raw cotton and wool. To
avoid being cheated and to give work to more needy people, she has a
department which cuts and sews garments for these poor, which she gives
out instead of piece goods. She has just started another department
which is making bedding for the same poor. Thus in these weeks she
has fed and clothed over 4,800. Every detail of the work requires her
personal supervision, so you may understand why she is so busy. She
has, besides, several surgical cases. Her workpeople beg to be paid in
bread instead of money, so she wishes to open another oven. But just
now funds seem to be gathering slowly in England, and fearful of debt,
she has resolved to register no new cases till the next mail comes
at least, with, we hope, more encouraging financial news. One great
difficulty is the scarcity of money in the city. The governor gave out
that he would open an oven for the poor, and several thousand were
registered, but no oven has been opened by him nor ever will be, though
he will get the full credit of such a proceeding in Constantinople and
Europe.”
The following was written to friends in this country by one of the
missionary company at Harput, and gives a very vivid picture of the
scenes in that city, one of the great centers of relief work:
“I never shall forget the moment when I first realized (after the
massacre) that the clothes I wore and the change which I had in a shawl
bag with me were all my earthly possessions. It was a good feeling, not
only because there seemed to be just so much less to separate me from
Christ and heaven, but because, surrounded as we were in that college,
by 400 of our people who were stripped of every comfort, we could feel
that not one of them could turn and say, ‘You cannot understand our
sorrows.’ That first night and the next morning after the attack, when
to each of us was given a small piece of bread for our meal, again
there was a feeling of fellowship which I doubt not did us all good.
“All honor to the brave cook who first dared to go out to the market
and bring us something a little more relishing. It seemed to us a deed
almost worthy of being mentioned with David’s brave men who brought
him water from the well at Bethlehem. To be sure, every mouthful half
choked us, at first, because of the mental strain upon us, but soon
we appreciated the fact that it was our duty to try to live. We were,
many of us, sleeping on the floor on hard mattresses, five feet long
and three and a half wide. Imagine three of us occupying one, with half
of the body resting on the bare floor. But sleep was good. It was the
awaking each morning to a realization of the horror of our situation
which seemed an evil.
“When the mixtures of feathers, molasses, straw, papers, flour
and canned fruits was cleaned from the two homes remaining to us
missionaries, there commenced the work of making bedding and a very
little necessary clothing, and gathering together household utensils.
At first it was a grave question where we should get any money. The
safes of the station had proved no barrier whatever to the greed of
the plunderers. Few of us had had enough fear of an attack to try to
save money or valuables, or, if we had, the fear was so desperate as
to leave no heart to care for worldly possessions. The other world
seemed too near for us to have any ‘thought for the morrow.’ But it
was remarkable how, little by little, the market furnished us, not
only with money, but with supplies for all our immediate wants. I need
not tell you how delightful it seemed the first time we sat on a whole
chair, at a table, with a cloth and napkins and with a knife and fork
and spoon apiece! Nor what sleep was, the first time we stretched
ourselves upon our beds!
“As soon as it seemed safe for the people to leave the College and
scatter to their homes, we who had been the touring missionaries, Miss
Seymour and myself, hired one room where we commenced to have bedding
made for the boys in the school. Soon it seemed evident that this was
the beginning of a widespread work of relief for the sorely stricken
people in all this region. The work has naturally divided itself up
among those who were freest to take it in charge.
“Dr. Barnum and Mr. Gates have stood at the head of the Relief Work.
God bless them for their undaunted courage in the time of fear, attack
and fire. God bless them for the inspiration of their faith and trust
in Him and for their skill and wisdom in dealing with the difficulties
of our situation. Day after day, for many weeks, their rooms have been
crowded with people of all classes. Sometimes there is a procession
of ragged villagers shivering with the cold; then again five or six
Armenians of influence, now humbled and anxious; later, two or three
Turkish officers whose present state of mind and heart we will not
pretend to fathom. All sorts of things are wanted, from ‘Akkul’
(wisdom) down to five paras (half a cent). One man tells how a neighbor
has gained possession of his bed and won’t give it up; another of how
a Turkish Bey wishes him to sign a receipt for eighty pounds which the
former never has paid, and, if he does not sign, the Bey will burn
his father’s house! Another comes to plead that money may be given
to release one of our school-girls, still held in possession by the
Kurds. A Turk comes to say that two or three of our horses have been
found and he can get them, for a suitable compensation. Another comes
to say that he knows where our lamps are. One man wants to rent us a
safe, another wishes to get money and another to give that scarcest
of all articles. During a quiet evening of rest at home, in comes a
Protestant, full of deep anxiety for his sister in a near village. She
and all her relatives have become Moslems in name through fear, and now
the Turks insist that she shall marry her brother-in-law who has one
wife already! A living death is existence on this earth, to such as
these.
“In the midst of all these questions which truly belong to ‘Relief,’
come long consultations about letters, telegrams, College work and
funds. Dr. Barnum maybe said to possess three tongues, English, Turkish
and Armenian, which he uses at will. To Mr. Ellis falls the work of
giving out tickets for bread. He now has some 1,500 hungry people on
his list. He also superintends workmen in tearing down or building up
walls.
“Miss Seymour and I found the one room far too small for our work. The
latter has grown, until we have taken the whole house. Immediately
after breakfast Miss Seymour goes there to find the front room packed
full of women and girls who have come to bring back the suit of
underclothes each took the day before, receive her pay, the small sum
of two piasters (nine cents), and take home a new suit to sew. Or,
it may be wool for a pair of stockings, for knitting which she will
receive nearly sixteen cents. Miss Seymour commences the work of the
day by a brief reading from the Scriptures, a few words of comfort, and
prayer.
“Later I came from my Bible class in the Male Department of the College
and we worked together at the Relief Rooms the rest of the day. Three
other rooms in the house are filled with women who are cutting out
garments, and bedding; sewing these; filling ticks with straw and
quilts with wool; spinning thread with which to sew and carding the
wool for stockings. We also buy cotton and send out to near villages,
to furnish the poverty-stricken people with spinning and weaving. At
first, it was a grave question how many whole spinning wheels and looms
had been left by the vandals who had broken everything they could not
carry away or burn. From these rooms have gone out over 2,505 suits of
underclothes, 104 pairs of stockings, 220 mattresses, 302 comfortables,
besides money and native calico for outside wear.
“We have various kinds of helpers in the work; one, our Rebecca, a
graduate of the College, patiently sits by us all day long, to write
down the names of those who are to take suits and cross off the names
when they are returned and paid for. Then there is the energetic
Vartar, superintendent of all the cutting and sewing; she leaves at
home each day a little son and daughter, both wounded in the massacre
here; the little boy has been a great sufferer, and has longed to go
and be with Christ. There is Caspar, our touring servant, who now buys
our thread and straw and runs on errands generally. Then Asdur, who was
the first to brave the dangers of a ride to Mezreh to send telegrams
to Minister Terrell, informing him of our condition, and who has ever
since gone hither and yon to hunt up cloth and money, dive into Turkish
houses after bedding and stolen goods, and carry and bring telegrams
and registered letters. Then Giragos from Hoh, across the plain. His
home, shop and fields he has been obliged to leave to their fate and
flee here to save his life, or, worse than death, to save himself from
being made a Moslem by force. His face lights up with joy at every good
deed we call upon him to undertake. He found fifty-three refugees from
the plundered village of Geoljuk, the other day, and was made happy by
the privilege of dealing out a bit of money to each and one hundred and
fifty suits of clothes to take back to the village. It is he who buys
cotton for us, weighs it and gives it out to villagers and gives us the
account. Then come Sitrag, Mardiros and Hohannes. The first fled from
the village of Hoh, where he was preaching, just in time to escape the
attack there. The second was one of our colporteurs. He was away at a
village and was robbed of all his books and most of his clothing and
came here bare-footed and bare-headed. The last is a preacher who, the
past winter, was sorely discouraged over his work in a near village
and became really ill over it, but is now well and glad to work for
others. These three are constantly examining into cases needing relief
and entering their homes to see whether the need warrants our incurring
expense for them. We are often in sore perplexity over these cases.
We are constantly in danger of running on the Scylla and Charybdis of
severity and too large mercifulness. It needs the wisdom of the serpent
and the harmlessness of the dove to do just right and then we have to
run the risk of some criticism, but we know that this must be expected,
and we do seek to walk carefully and to obtain wisdom from on high.
“It would require volumes to tell you the touching incidents of this
relief work. How many of those dear boys and girls in the College,
whose bedding was freshly and nicely arranged for this term by a kind
mother’s hands, were soon to mourn with her, she in some distant city
and they here, the massacre of husband and father. The father and
two of the brothers of two of our girls were slain in the massacre
at Chermuk, which was one of the most severe and horrible of any
place. About 650 men were killed in that small town where are only 400
Christian houses. Anna, the mother of these girls, was three times
stripped of all but two pieces of underclothing. Finally a kind Turk
told his wife that she would be much to blame if she did not clothe and
feed that poor widow and her children. But, fearing worse evils, in
spite of all the dangers from robbers and the journey in winter, she
made her way here, where we have given her clothing, bedding, bread and
work, and I trust, some comfort for her wounded heart. Her husband and
sons were not even given burial. Our devoted Churkush pastor perished
nobly testifying for Christ, and his wife also braved the dangers of
the mountain journey rather than be separated longer from her eldest
son who is in college here. We look into the sad eyes of these women
and do not need to ask them what they have seen. Oh! the depths of
anguish which only one look reveals and yet they are so patient. God
comfort them.
“Another day comes word of an arrival from Malatia, a beautiful woman,
with five young children. Last year she was inconsolable over the death
of her husband from cholera. Now she tells in the most tragic style of
those awful days of fighting; of the surrender of the church in which
the Christians had sought refuge; of her discovery of some relatives
after having wandered about alone in her flight to the church; of
passing out through files of soldiers; of God’s wonderful protection so
that not a Turk or Kurd looked at her or her children for evil; then,
with home and property all gone, finally comes the dangerous journey
here and a shelter with her poor old mother-in-law, and our supply for
her immediate wants.
“A company of women from Palu came in, who fled from that place of
horrors, because defenseless women and girls are constantly being
carried off by Turks and Kurds and men are turning Moslem from fear.
One poor woman, thin and white, her face almost covered with her veil,
in true Palu style, but shivering with cold and nervousness, told of
the death of her two-weeks-old baby on the road. The little thing was
frozen!
“A woman from a village on the opposite side of the plain is brought,
just rescued from the house of a Kurd, where she had been held captive
during the three weeks since the assault. She now works in our rooms
and we have tried to do all we can to comfort her for her murdered
husband and that awful three weeks, but never a smile lights up her
face. More pitiful still was the case of two little girls, sisters, who
had been carried off in the same way. A brother, fearfully wounded,
their only protector, and he was not able to save them from the bitter
experience so common in these days of lawlessness. More than one mother
has brought her daughter to this city to be under our protection as far
as possible, fearing greater evils than death.
“An Oriental woman thinks more of her head-covering than of any other
part of her attire. What rags of black kerchiefs now cover the heads
which bend low before us until they kiss our feet to beg for charity.
Other city women who clothed themselves in silk dresses and sheets, now
appear in coarse, loose Turkish trousers and on their heads a common
old cloth. They dare not do otherwise, for, if they appear in a shawl,
some Turk is sure to say in passing, with a look of hatred, ‘Ha! you
still wear shawls, do you?’ The family comb, even, has gone in many
cases, and for many days there was an indiscriminate borrowing of this
useful article!
“Very many priests were slain in the massacres and those who have
escaped have been to us, from far and near, for bedding and clothing.
They are exiles from their homes at present, not daring to return, lest
they should be killed. To such we seek to deal most liberally, for we
hope to show the true spirit of gospel love and to break down the wall
of partition which has so long separated them from us. Henceforth we
wish the names Protestant and Gregorian to be merged in the one holy
title of Christian.
“One man from a village where we have long tried to find entrance, but
encountered bitter and unconquered opposition, pleaded for help most
persistently. Finally I said, ‘Brother, I do not know you; how can I
tell if you are really needy? If you were a Hulakeghli, (a native of a
village near, where we have had a flourishing church), I should be able
to tell your name and your circumstances and to trust your word. Now I
want to help you, but am puzzled; see what you have lost.’ I am glad
to say that we found a safe way of helping even that dark village, and
Mr. Gates was much pleased with the way money was distributed there by
their own people.
“Many have been the wonderful deliverances of our Protestant pastors
and preachers. The preacher at Palu was separated from his wife and
both were in the greatest peril. He was in hiding in a stable with his
wife at first, when the Kurds came in and attacked and killed the men
there. Baron Asdur, this preacher, was saved by clinging to two women
to prevent their separating enough from each other so that he could be
seen. Finally, during another attack there, they were all driven from
that spot and he received what was supposed to be his death-blow. His
poor little wife sat and wept over him awhile, then fled, alone, for
her life, from one spot to another. A Kurd seized her in the street
and said, ‘Now you are to be my wife!’ He dragged her off a little way
when she saw two soldiers. She pulled away from the Kurd, crying out,
‘I won’t go with this man!’ and placed herself under their protection
(?), half crazed with fear as she was. A well-known Turk in the city
saw her, picked up her shoes and veil and put them on, and took her
to his house with the assurance that she was to be his wife! Poor
child, she was joined there by many refugees and one of them who knew
her soon said, ‘Do you know that your husband is down stairs?’ She
hastened down to find him, pale and ghastly, standing in the hall of
the Turk’s house. The story of how they were ejected from that shelter,
as the Turk’s life was in danger if he protected them longer, of their
appeal to the Governor of Palu, of another kind Turk’s lending them
money to escape to Ichme (the wife’s native village, on this plain,
and a journey of eight hours), and of his flight from there here, clad
in coarse, old village clothes which he had picked up, is too long
to relate in detail. He was not safe in Ichme, since our pastor, the
priest, and many of the chief men had become martyrs and others left
alive had become Moslems. The sequel was that Sara followed him here;
we gave them clothing and bedding, and a small salary was continued.
A babe was born to them soon after they were nicely settled, but Sara
lived only a few days, and one of the works of relief done by willing,
sympathizing hands, was to buy cloth for the burial dress, and for the
lining to the outside and inside of the plain wooden box in which her
tired body was laid to rest. In a couple more days he buried his old
mother, who had fled from the fearful attack on Hueli, another village
on the plain.
“There is a famine of the Word of God in our field, for thousands of
Bibles and Testaments in cities and villages have been trodden under
foot, torn to shreds, or thrown into the fire to burn; and one of the
most touching questions asked us in our Relief Rooms is, ‘Haven’t you a
Bible to give me? We long for a Bible.’ We have to tell them that all
the great store we had of God’s precious word is gone and even Miss
Seymour and I have no English or Armenian Bible of our own, only each
a little Testament. So Miss Wheeler is superintending the printing by
hand of packages of texts of Scripture, which are distributed with the
work each day, and by Dr. Barnum and Mr. Gates to men who come to them.
The boys of the school do this printing to earn their schooling.
“I have said that we examined the cases carefully, to see if we were
warranted in giving relief. It is true that there are thousands of
cases we can never reach. It is also true that there is scarcely an
Armenian family anywhere that does not need help, for with merchandise
and tools plundered, with roads too dangerous for travel and public
confidence all gone, what is there in the present or future to awaken
hope? How are those who are in these circumstances to live? Another
grave problem is the difficulty of getting money as fast as it is
wanted. There is no credit. People cannot get their debts paid, or
drafts cashed. In Malatia, where 4,000 Armenians and perhaps 1,000
Turks were killed, the £50 we first sent was divided up among the most
needy and about 3½ piasters, or 14 cents, was given to each person,
or 22½ piasters to a family of six persons--that is, about 90 cents.
Remember that everything is gone, houses, bedding, clothing, stores of
food, shops and merchandise. It is said that widows and orphans wander
about the streets begging, even going into the market-place in their
desperation, and there the Turks often stand and throw out handfuls of
nuts, or crumbs of bread, and laugh to see the poor creatures scramble
after them.
“A party of travelers coming from Palu saw a company of people
coming down from a mountain toward them. They proved to be plundered
Christians, driven out of their homes into hiding-places in the
mountains, where they were subsisting on green stalks of wheat and
such herbs as they could find. They begged piteously for bread. Who
can describe the anguish of this land! ‘O Lord, how long!’ we cry.
May God, in His mercy, move multitudes of hearts to give with rare
liberality for these suffering ones. If we get these poor widows and
orphans through the winter, what means of living have they for the
future? Can we be too bold in our pleading that, for Christ’s sake, all
who enjoy the comforts and luxuries of life will give until they feel
it, for so pitiful a case? Do you wonder, as we think of the blighted
hopes for our homes and work, that we say, ‘Is the past a dream, or, is
it the present which is the dream, and shall we wake to find the dear
old rooms, the mementoes, conveniences, and old, loved paths of duty?’
Whichever it is, I tell you that we are content, and only know, more
and more surely, that ‘for us to live is Christ and to die is gain.’”
This story is simple fact, told by a woman whom the author knows well.
He has been a guest in those Harput homes, and in the villages, has
traveled over those roads, has shared with those pastors the services
of God’s house. Let his own most earnest testimony emphasize every word
of this record of devotion and of suffering, and add what force he can
to the plea for help--help ere it be too late.