CHAPTER XVI

EDGMIATSIN AND THE ARMENIAN CHURCH

At five o'clock in the afternoon of the 4th of October we set out for

Edgmiatsin. It is a drive of about thirteen miles across the plain. Our

luggage was consigned to a waggon of the post, and we ourselves enjoyed

the luxury of a light victoria, drawn by four horses abreast. They

covered the distance in an hour and forty minutes, although the road

is in many places a mere track.

What a drive! It is so well within reach of Europe that it ought to

be included, like the journey to Italy, in the programme of a liberal

education. The railway will before long arrive at Erivan, and then the

pilgrimage will be still easier to undertake. Not all the tourists in

the world will disturb the harmony of this landscape; the screeching

trains, the loud hotels, the Babel of tongues will be lost, like

a flight of starlings, in this expanse. It is here that the spirit

of Asia is most intensely present--an inner sanctuary to those outer

courts through which the traveller may have wandered and never crossed

the threshold of this plain. And it is a spirit and an influence which

arouse deep chords within us and send them sounding through our lives.

The landscape at once combines and accentuates the salient features of

the Asiatic highlands. There is the plain which was once the bed of an

inland sea. It stretches west and east without visible limits; and this

evening it has all the appearance of water. In the west it is mirage

which produces this effect. The long north-western slope of the Ararat

fabric assumes the character of a dark and narrow promontory rising

on an opposite shore. From the east, beyond the train of the Little

Ararat, a cold mist--may it be from the Caspian?--is slowly wafted over

the steppe, and the illusion is complete. Into those liquid spaces

sweep the basal vaultings of Alagöz--the boulder-strewn declivities

which we keep on our right hand, and which seem to embody on a typical

scale that quality of hopeless sterility which is characteristic of

vast portions of the continent. But the same vague distance receives

the Zanga, diffused into many channels, and lost beneath luxuriant

foliage. For over a quarter of an hour after leaving Erivan we pass

at a rapid trot between the walls of orchards; and in places the water

gushes from the conduits across the road. Once outside this intricate

zone the track wanders over the idle soil, skirting the stony slopes

in the north. In the opposite direction the plain blooms with fields

of cotton and rice, sustained by a small canal which pursues a westerly

course before it falls into the Araxes, if indeed it flow so far.

And there are the mountains of Asia--the volcanoes with their vaulted

summits, as well as those long ridges with their serrated outline

which represent the operation of less impetuous forces through longer

spaces of time. To this second category belongs the fine chain on the

west of Ararat which gains in definition as we proceed. It stands

a little back and behind the fabric of Ararat, and volcanoes too

have built themselves up upon this wall. But its rugged and tumbled

appearance is the feature which predominates, in striking contrast

to the symmetry of the mountain of the Ark. That giant overpowers the

lesser Ararat and appropriates their common base. One stands in wonder

at the force which could have rent that massive pedestal and opened

the yawning chasm which fronts the plain. Night creeps into those

recesses, where the blaze of a Kurdish camp-fire calls attention to

the extraordinary transparence of the air. The snow-fields, bare and

cold above the amber of the sunset, are already free of their coronal

of cloud. One full-puffed vapour still floats behind the uppermost

pinnacle; another clings to the bastion on the north-west. While we

admire this stately scene, made more impressive by the heavy silence,

a grove of trees rises from the steppe on our point of course. Two

little conical shapes just emerge above their outline, and are

recognised as the domes of Edgmiatsin.

We pass through the thin plantation, sustained by runnels derived from

Alagöz, and come to a halt before the doorway of a lofty mud wall with

round towers at intervals. It might belong to a Persian fortress; but

it is the outer wall which surrounds the cloister with the cathedral

of St. Gregory. The massive gate is closed, and we thump and thump for

some time in vain. The parapet with its crumbling surface betrays no

sign of the life within. But there is just sufficient light to reveal

the surroundings of the fortified enclosure--a straggling village of

above-ground houses, outlying churches, poplars, dust. [130]

At last the hinges creak and the porter appears. We are ushered

into a court, like that of a college at Cambridge, adjoining the

great gate which is in the south wall. It is known as the pilgrims'

court (Fig. 47). Low buildings, rudely built, with a continuous

wooden verandah, compose the quadrangle. The windows are all lit up

behind a line of young trees of which the foliage rustles in the night

air. Several figures may be discerned on the steps of a basin of water

in the centre of the court. The place is all bustle and stir. Every

room, so we are told, in the whole monastery is occupied by as many

people as it will hold. Quarters have been reserved for us in the

principal court; but we are not expected until to-morrow. Sooner than

disturb the peace of evening we retire to a room in the village where

we erect our camp beds. It is quite a dormitory. My immediate neighbour

speaks English and is a correspondent of the Daily News. He is an

Armenian gentleman who has come all the way from Tabriz, partly in the

capacity of delegate of his countrymen in the Persian city, and partly

as the representative of the London newspaper. He talks incessantly;

his companions do the same. The great event of the coming days will

form an epoch in their lives, and every incident will be indelibly

imprinted upon their memories. A thrilling and detailed narrative

will be despatched to London, where it will filter through the brain

of the sub-editor and issue in the form of a paragraph in small type.

But the newspaper will be to blame; for it is an event, this

consecration of the latest pontiff of the Armenian Church. It is

an event both by reason of the personality of the new katholikos and

because within recent years the fact has slowly dawned upon Europe that

the politics of Western Asia must react upon the Western peoples,

and that in those politics the Armenians are destined to play a

part. The Church is at the present day the only native institution

which has been preserved to that people. All their aspirations as

human beings desirous to live as human beings are focussed by that

single organisation. The broad democratic basis upon which reposes

the election of the patriarch invests him with a representative

character. Moreover he is not chosen by a section of his countrymen but

by the nation as a whole. The Armenians of Turkey and of Persia as well

as those within Russian territory contribute their suffrages. It is

therefore only natural that, in the absence of secular institutions,

the head of the Church should be much more than a merely spiritual

ruler, and should reflect and in no small measure be expected to

instruct the temporal hopes and fears of his flock.

The Russian Government have not been slow in recognising this fact;

nor does the anxiety with which it is regarded in official circles

date from the contemporary prominence of the Armenian Question. In

the heyday of their relations with this Christian nation which hailed

them as liberators, and which was placed in the very centre of the

Mussulman peoples over which they were slowly establishing their sway,

the Russians lavished favours upon Edgmiatsin; [131] and rightly or

wrongly they are now accused by their Armenian allies, become their

subjects, of having excited hopes which, when they had served the ends

of Russian policy, were rudely and almost brutally suppressed. It

is certain that the Armenian inhabitants of the provinces which now

belong to Russia favoured the Russians in their campaigns against

Persia and Turkey at the risk of reprisals on the part of their

Mussulman masters. They smoothed the way for the extension of the

Russian Empire from the valley of the Kur to that of the Araxes. The

first great step in this direction was effected at the commencement of

the present century, when the kingdom of Georgia was organised into

a Russian province. The acquisition of Georgia afforded the Russians

a foothold upon the tableland, and brought them into direct contact

with the Persians and with the Turks. Their first battle against the

Persians was fought on the 20th of June 1804, and resulted in the

repulse of the Shah's forces, which were led by his son, the famous

Abbas Mirza. This action took place in the immediate neighbourhood of

Edgmiatsin, and on the same day upon which was celebrated the annual

festival of St. Ripsime, one of the saints who are the special glory

of the cloister. The Armenians did not disguise the direction of their

sympathies, and attributed, the Russian victory to the intervention

of their Saint. [132] Ten years later, when the monastery was visited

by Morier, the patriarch was wearing a high Russian order, of which

the star glittered on his purple robe. [133]

In 1828 Edgmiatsin was annexed to Russia after the capture

of Erivan from the Persians and as a result of the Treaty of

Turkomanchai. Throughout the wars which ensued with Turkey the

Armenians espoused the Russian cause; and one cannot doubt that

their assistance was of considerable benefit both to Paskevich

during the campaigns of 1828-29, and to Loris Melikoff, himself of

Armenian origin, in that of 1877. [134] Little by little a certain

bitterness becomes appreciable in these honeymoon relations. The

origin or perhaps the reflection of this new feeling may be found

in the provisions of the important statute which defines the status

of the Armenian Church in Russia and regulates the constitution of

Edgmiatsin. This statute, which is generally known as the Polojenye,

is headed by the signature of the Tsar Nicholas and bears the date

of March 1836. It was translated for me by one of the monks. In

some respects it deals most liberally with the national Church. Her

congregations are accorded full liberty of worship, and her clergy

are relieved from all civil burdens. The principle of the election of

the katholikos by the whole Armenian people professing the national

religion is expressly recognised. The method of his election is

minutely prescribed. The national delegates assemble in the church

of St. Gregory, and submit two names to the Emperor, who makes the

appointment. [135] On the other hand, in true Russian fashion, what

is given with one hand is taken away with the other. The synod of

Edgmiatsin is an ancient institution which, according to Armenian

traditions, advises the katholikos, and may even resist him should he

desire to effect changes in matters intimately affecting the national

faith. [136] The Polojenye emphasises and develops the constitutional

importance of this body, and places it under the titular presidency

of the Emperor. The decrees of the synod are headed "By order of the

Emperor of Russia"; and they are submitted to a Russian procurator,

resident at Edgmiatsin, who examines into their validity. In matters

of a purely spiritual nature the katholikos takes counsel with the

synod, but need not necessarily accept its recommendations. But in

all the general business of the Church, as well as of the cloister,

it is the synod which has jurisdiction subject to the approval of

the Minister of the Interior. In the synod, which consists of eight

priests resident at Edgmiatsin, the katholikos has no more than a

casting vote. It is true that he might act by Bull. But such action,

were it contrary to the resolutions of the synod, would, as matters

now stand, be revolutionary. In this manner the katholikos is put

into leading strings, of which the ends are held by the officials on

the banks of the Neva, duly instructed by a professed and resident spy.

Nor are the remaining provisions of this double-faced instrument

calculated to shed balm over the wounded dignity of the head of the

Church. It is the Emperor who appoints the members of the synod,

although the katholikos is entrusted with the important function of

submitting two names for the Imperial choice. It is not legal for

the pontiff to punish a member of the synod without the Imperial

consent. The same authority is necessary should he desire to suspend

a bishop. He may not leave the cloister for more than four months

except with the sanction of the Tsar. When a bishopric falls vacant he

submits names to the Emperor, with whom the appointment rests. Should

the bishop desire to go abroad for more than four months, application

must be made to the same high quarter. But perhaps the most serious

because the most insidious weapon against the independence of the

national Church is the provision which enacts that a year shall

elapse between the death of a katholikos and the election of his

successor. This clause was accepted with singular want of foresight

at a time when travelling was even slower than it is at the present

day, and when it was difficult to collect the delegates from Turkey

and Persia within a lesser period. In practice it is not easy for

the new katholikos to take up his duties until some time subsequent

to his election; and, should further delay be of advantage to the

Government, the Tsar can always defer confirming the choice of the

representatives. Thus a vacancy in the Chair is always accompanied by

a long interregnum, during which the Government plays off one party

against the other, and succeeds in obtaining whatever concessions

may have been resisted during the preceding pontificate.

An English traveller who visited Edgmiatsin the year after the

conclusion of this enactment found the synod with its Russian

procurator in full swing. The katholikos was at once reduced to

a position of president of the synod, and the synod to one of

subservience to Russian policy. [137] Von Haxthausen speaks of the

procurator as a Russian and quite an autocrat; this was in 1843. [138]

At that time the pontiff Nerses was in occupation of the Chair, and

his conspicuous abilities were regarded with suspicion by the Russian

authorities. His schemes for the higher education of the Armenians had

come to nothing owing to Russian opposition. But the hardest blow was

reserved for the year 1885, when the Katholikos Makar was appointed by

the Emperor in defiance of the expressed sentiments of the delegates of

the nation. It was then realised that the independence of the Church

was at an end. The ukase of investiture confirmed this pessimist

view. Instead of the usual wording "upon the recommendation of the

Armenian people," the appointment was based "upon the recommendation

of the clergy." Instead of the pictures from Armenian history which

adorned the ukase of the pontiff George, Russian insignia and coats

of arms enlivened the scroll. The constitutional phrase has been

restored to the ukase confirming the present pontiff, but not the

patriotic pictures! [139]

Still, in spite of the fetters which have been imposed upon the actions

of the katholikos, as much by the manner in which the Polojenye is

worked by the Russian bureaucracy as by the provisions which that

statute contains, the average Armenian and especially the lower

classes are immensely interested in the event of the coming days. At

Batum, at Kutais, at Alexandropol, at Erivan--wherever we have been

in the society of Armenians, talk has centred upon the triumphal

journey and the approaching consecration of His Holiness Mekertich

Khrimean. It is not only the ancient ceremony, and it is not merely

the assembling of delegates from all parts of the Armenian world

that appeals to the heart of the nation. It is the personality and

reputation of the man. The people forgets, but it does not change. The

imagination of the race still sees in the holder of the pontifical

office not alone or so much an archbishop or katholikos--the keystone

of the edifice of the Church--as a high priest in the old Biblical

sense. Khrimean is the ideal of a high priest. He is a figure which

steps straight out from the Old Testament with all the fire and all

the poetry. At the ceremony of his consecration it seemed as if at

the foot of Ararat the ancient spirit were still alive, and that

the holy oil which descended upon that venerable head from the beak

of the golden dove anointed a law-giver to the people who announced

the Divine Word. This impression was in part derived from the Semitic

cast of his features. The large brown eyes and aquiline nose above a

long and full beard, are characteristics which we associate with the

Jewish nation, but which are not uncommon among the Armenians. What

is more rare among this people is the spirituality and refinement

which is written in every line of this handsome face (Fig. 48). But

the whole character of the man would seem to have been moulded upon a

Biblical model rather than upon that of the Christian hierarchy. He

is the tried statesman to whom the people look for guidance in the

abeyance of the kingly office. With him religion and patriotism

are almost interchangeable terms; and the strong reality which he

has given to the old Armenian history may be illustrated by an act

which those who lack sympathy with such a character might almost

regard as childish. In the cloister of Varag near Van, over which

he has presided for many years, are buried the remains of Senekerim,

king of the Van country, who abdicated his kingdom in favour of the

Byzantine emperor, Basil II., and retired to the town of Sivas in Asia

Minor, which he received in exchange. Over his tomb a wooden canopy

had been erected and decorated in a manner befitting royal rank. But

such honours, paid to so unworthy a monarch, shocked the keen sense

of the patriot in Khrimean; he stripped the frame of its trappings

and ornaments, and the structure stands bare to this day. The simple

surroundings among which his life has been passed recall the setting

of a Bible story. At a later stage of our journey, when we arrived

in the town of Van, I was shown the house where he had resided and

which he has now devoted to a school for girls. As I alighted to visit

the school a man with the appearance and dress of a peasant stepped

forward to hold the reins of my horse. Yet this individual was none

other than the nephew of the Katholikos, and the brother of Khoren

Khrimean, who has accompanied his uncle to Edgmiatsin, and who does

the honours of the patriarchal household with so much dignity and

natural grace. During our stay in Van, his native province, we were

afforded an instance of the magnetic influence which through a long

life Mekertich Khrimean has exercised upon his countrymen, and which

takes the form of superstitious veneration among the humble and the

poor. As we were winding up the slopes of Mount Varag on our way to

the ancient monastery where he lived so long, teaching in the school

which he had founded within its walls, and often taking this very path

from the cloister to preach in the little church of Hankusner, on the

outskirts of the gardens of Van, our attention was called to a spot

where an assassin had lain in wait for him, deputed by his enemies to

kill him as he rode unaccompanied towards the town. The story is told

that when the man perceived him and raised his rifle to his shoulder,

a sudden fear seized his limbs, his arm shook like a wand; and he

fell upon his knees before his victim, whose look he had been unable

to bear. As a writer Khrimean has expressed through the vehicle of a

prose which is full of poetry and emotion conceptions of Scripture

and thoughts upon the troubles of his time which might have sprung

from the warm imagination of the early Christians in the East. He has

often suffered for the fire of his sermons, and he possesses both the

style of the consummate orator and the personal charm which keeps an

audience under a spell. He has for many years been in the forefront

of the Armenian movement; and it was he who pleaded the Armenian cause

at the Congress of Berlin. A people whose spirit has been crushed and

whose manhood has been degraded gather new life from such a teacher

and learn to become men. But perhaps the most striking quality in

a character which is at once complex and clear as the light of day

is the ever-welling kindness and open-armed sympathy with which he

shares the troubles of his fellow-men. As the throng press round him,

the holder of their highest office, and endeavour to kiss his hand or

gain a glimpse of his face, the mind travels back to that solemn scene

in which the Greek king receives his stricken and distracted people:

"O my poor children, known to me, not unknown is the subject of your

prayer; well am I aware that you are sore afflicted all; yet, though

you suffer, there is not one among you who suffers even as I. For

the grief you bear comes to each one alone--himself for himself he

suffers--and to none other else; but my soul mourns for the State

and for myself and you." [140]

Side by side with personal relations of greater freedom than I had

anticipated towards this remarkable man, there grew up at Edgmiatsin

and during the course of subsequent travel a fairly intimate

acquaintance with the events of his life. He was born on the 5th of

April 1820; and it is therefore in his seventy-fourth year that he

ascends the throne of St. Thaddeus and of St. Gregory. His father and

uncle were well-to-do citizens of Van, who had come to be known under

the name of Khrimean because of a trade which they had conducted with

the Crimea. The young Mekertich had a single brother and no sisters;

and he appears to have been educated with some care by his uncle. His

youth and early manhood were devoted to secular pursuits. For five

or six years he acted in the capacity of an overseer in a weaving

business. But already in 1841 he had become a traveller and a

thinker; in that year he made a journey in the province of Ararat

and visited Edgmiatsin. At the age of twenty-five he married and in

due course became a father; but his wife died after giving birth to a

daughter who only lived to be six or seven years old. To a layman of

intellectual tastes among the Armenians of Turkey there is scarcely

any other profession open than the honourable but ill-paid calling

of a teacher. Shortly after his marriage Khrimean proceeded to the

capital and earned his living by private tuition. His first book

appeared in 1850, and consisted of a description in poetry of his

travels in Ararat. The period of his residence in Constantinople was

diversified by further journeys; to Jerusalem and the Holy Land,

of which he published an account; and to Cilicia, the seat of the

latest Armenian dynasty, where he remained some time as a teacher

in the convent of Sis. In 1854 he returned to his native city, and

in the following year took orders and became a vardapet or monastic

priest. It is at this date that the more conspicuous portion of his

life may be said to have commenced. The pulpit gave full scope to

his natural eloquence; while the qualities of the student and writer,

which he had carefully cultivated, were displayed in the columns of a

journal which he founded about 1856 and named the Eagle of Vaspurakan,

or of the province of Van. The proceeds of the sale of this periodical,

which was at first printed at Constantinople, whither he had returned

in 1855, enabled him to purchase an instrument of great rareness in

Turkey, which the Armenians prize with the same childish affection

and reverence as the Persian highlanders value a rifle or sporting

gun. Khrimean re-entered Van with the title of abbot of the famous

monastery which overlooks the landscape of the city and the rock

and the waters from the slopes of Mount Varag. He came the proud

possessor of a printing press, with which to conquer the sloth of

the faint-hearted among the laymen and edify the crass ignorance of

the priests.

In the good old times in Turkey one might read or write what books one

liked, and the freedom which was enjoyed by the average individual

might have excited the envy of the citizens of some of the European

states. When the abbot of Varag cast his stone into the stagnant

waters, the report woke little echo beyond the borders of his native

province and the ranks of his countrymen. But the waves which he set

in motion have never yet subsided; and who can tell upon what shore of

promise or disappointment they are destined to break and disappear? If

ever there was a good cause, such was the cause which he championed,

and no advocate could be more pure-minded than himself. His avowed

object and real aim was the elevation of the Armenians and their

preparation for the new era which he foresaw. That era he conceived

as one of national activity in the rapid decline of the Mussulman

peoples and the approach of new influences from the West. If we tax

him with having resuscitated a realised and played-out ideal--that

national ideal which is still the bane of our modern Europe, but which,

except perhaps in the case of some paradoxical German Professors,

has lost its hold upon educated minds, he might reply that it is the

only talisman with which to touch the Armenians, the most obstinate

nationalists which the world has ever seen. He might further point

to the almost hopeless condition of the Ottoman Empire, and under

his breath he might suggest that the methods of Russian despotism

were not such as to excite the enthusiasm of a strongly individual

people capable of assimilating Western culture at first hand. Lastly,

he might dwell upon the fact that the Armenians have a long history,

and that their progress, to be solid and permanent, must be based on

a revival of consciousness in the dignity of their past.

But the inculcation of such doctrines in the minds of his countrymen

was sure to produce a ferment among a people who have been regarded as

the inferiors and almost as the slaves of the Mussulmans for upwards

of eight hundred years. It was imputed to him that he was working to

revive the old Armenian kingdom--a consummation which a sensible Turk

should regard with equanimity, since the time necessary to attain

this end would far exceed all possible limits which he might assign

to his solicitude for posterity. But sensible people are a minority

of the inhabitants of this globe, and they are not numerous in the

governing circles of the Ottoman Empire. The great activity of the

Abbot of Varag, who trained his youths in the school of the cloister to

conduct unaided the redoubtable magazine, slowly aroused the suspicion

of the authorities. His own party in the Church supported him with much

zeal, and another monastery, still more famous, that of Surb Karapet

above Mush plain, was added to his spiritual administration. No

sooner was he installed than a second printing press was set up

and another school founded. The Armenians of the plain of Mush were

edified by a new local journal, the Little Eagle of Taron. In 1869

he was elected Patriarch of Constantinople, a dignity which he only

held for four years. The Turkish Government had become alive to his

great and growing popularity, and it was found expedient that he

should resign. Then came the tribulations of the Russo-Turkish war,

during which the new movement among the Armenians cost them several

little massacres and untoward events. When the Congress met at Berlin

the ex-patriarch, who had been busy with literature, undertook, in

concert with an archiepiscopal colleague, a mission on behalf of his

nation to the German capital. This was his first visit to the West,

and he extended his journey to Italy, France and England. The result

of his efforts and of those of Nerses, Patriarch of Constantinople,

was the insertion of the well-known clause in the Treaty of Berlin

pledging Europe to supervise the execution of reforms in the Asiatic

provinces of Turkey inhabited by Armenians. Khrimean returned to his

native country the object of the resentment of the Ottoman authorities;

much of this portion of his life was spent in Van. But Armenian

discontent was spreading; the alarm of Government was increasing;

and in 1889 the eloquent preacher was sent to Jerusalem in honorary

exile. In the month of May 1892 he was elected to the primacy of the

Armenian Church. The Russian bureaucracy perhaps reflected that their

safeguards at Edgmiatsin were quite sufficient to bridle the vigour

of a septuagenarian. These shrewd diplomats therefore humoured the

Armenians in the matter, and the election was allowed to stand. The

Sultan raised difficulties about releasing the exiled prelate from

his Ottoman nationality and oath of allegiance. When this objection

had been overcome his consent was qualified by the condition that

the katholikos-elect should not pass through Constantinople. A year

elapsed in these parleyings. For two years the Armenian Church had been

without a head. During that period it had been ruled by the Russian

procurator. Now in the autumn the elect of the nation is at length

presented to the delegates who have assembled from all parts of the

Armenian world. And he comes from Russia, from the north, released

from exile in Turkey at the pressing instance of the Tsar. One must

admire the extraordinary cleverness of these Russian bureaucrats!

The sun was already high when we sallied forth from our lodging,

having with great difficulty prepared our breakfast in the crowded

room. We passed down the long and dusty street of the village, which

is dignified by the historical name of Vagharshapat. Nothing remains

of the capital of King Tiridates, which was built upon this site or

in the immediate neighbourhood. You are shown the remains of an old

bridge which spanned the Kasagh, or river of Vagharshapat, some little

distance north-west of the present settlement. The river has changed

its course since it was erected. But the character of the masonry

is rather that which was prevalent in the Middle Ages--conglomerate

piles, faced with carefully hewn and jointed blocks of stone. Several

shops bestow a modern appearance upon the street, having windows and

being disposed as in Europe. A commonplace edifice with many windows

and standing in private grounds recalls an Institute in one of our

provincial towns. It is the Academy or Seminary. We entered the

cloister from a door on the north, through which we issued into an

open space on the west of the great court. A covered way conducted

us to the quadrangle, in the centre of which rises the cathedral

(Fig. 49, taken from south-west).

Imagine the Old Court of Trinity College at Cambridge without the

gateway, the hall and chapel, and with a church of some size placed in

the centre where the fountain stands. All four sides of the figure are

defined by low buildings, resembling the dwellings which constitute

two sides of the Cambridge court. I had always understood that our

quadrangle at Trinity was the largest in the world; although I believe

some American university was building one a few inches bigger not

so very long ago. But the great court of Edgmiatsin perhaps already

makes the record; it has a length, from west to east, of 349 feet

6 inches, and a breadth of 335 feet 2 inches. These measurements I

took myself, much to the astonishment of the crowd which assembled;

they were at a loss to find a theory which might explain so strange

an act. The length will be very much increased in a short while,

when the condemned east side has disappeared. A fine row of stone

buildings is in course of erection, which will enlarge that dimension

by many yards. Our cousins across the Atlantic must bestir themselves.

The western side of the court on the south of the covered way is

devoted to the residence of the Katholikos, while the block on the

north of the same passage is occupied by the bishops. There is no

style or pomp about the pontifical dwelling; and it would bear the

same relation to the Master's Lodge at Trinity as a four-roomed

cottage to a mansion. At the back is a little garden. The north

side consists of the rooms inhabited by the monks, and a terrace,

raised on pointed arches, extends from end to end. The building on

the east is in process of demolition, and, like its fellows on the two

sides which have already been described, is composed of comparatively

fragile material. I was given to understand that it had once housed

the seminary and printing press; a little bakery still occupies

the junction with the buildings on the south. These are constructed

of stone, and, although very plain, lend an air of solidity to the

entire quadrangle. Beginning on the west of this block we have first

a long refectory on the ground floor. Its dimensions are a length of

155 feet, and a breadth of 16 feet 6 inches. But it is a very humble

place when compared to the magnificent dining halls at Cambridge,

and it is not more than 14 feet in height. The ceiling is vaulted,

and like the walls is whitewashed over; the apartment is well lit

and is cool in summer. Two rows of narrow tables extend down it,

and on the west side is the throne and the canopy of the Katholikos,

both in carved wood. Should he join the monks at dinner, his table is

spread beneath the canopy. Parallel with this refectory and facing the

outhouses on the south is placed a similar chamber for the servants,

a part of the space upon the east being occupied by the kitchen. The

storey above the refectories is tenanted by the library, while the

eastern portion of the buildings is taken up by granaries and store

rooms both on the ground and upper floors.

Except for the pilgrims' court, with adjacent structures, and

the garden of the Katholikos--the one on the southern, the other

on the south-western side--the space between the outer wall and

the great court is for the most part vacant ground. What edifices

there have been raised within it are of an unsubstantial character,

and may have been allowed to fall into ruin. The fine sites which

are thus forthcoming are being rapidly utilised, and I have already

referred to the row of buildings which will extend the great court

upon the east and which at the time of our visit were approaching

completion. In a line with this new block, in which red and grey

stones diversify the masonry, is situated further south the house

which lodges the printing press, a solid stone structure. The

transformation of Edgmiatsin from a residence of ignorant monks

into a seat of education, the home of cultured men, is proceeding

year by year; and it is even possible that the bricks and mortar,

or, to speak more correctly, the excellent masonry is in advance

of the needs which it is intended to supply. Wealthy Armenians are

fond of endowing the famous cloister, for which they do not need the

incitement of meetings at some Devonshire House. But the form of gift

dearest to them is the erection of a building, which stands there

so that all may see. This preference for the concrete and visible

is deeply ingrained in them, and they are able to gratify it owing

to the great skill of the Armenian masons. Plans were shown me which

provided a palace for the Katholikos and the rebuilding of the north

side of the quadrangle. These, I believe, have already been decided

upon, one of our party at the private table of the Katholikos having

provided the greater part of the funds. I was also invited to look at

some very elaborate drawings for the enlargement and adornment of the

church. No sooner had they been handed round than one of the guests

of His Holiness expressed his readiness to defray the cost. Speaking

as one who came fresh to Edgmiatsin, I did my best to dissuade the

acceptance of this last project. To enlarge the church would be to

dwarf the fine proportions of the court; indeed the contrary course

would be well-advised. One would not very much regret the abolition

of the portal, while the excrescence on the east, containing the

treasury and room of relics, should certainly be pulled down. His

Holiness favoured the idea of erecting a new church outside the walls,

to supplement the space available in the present building.

We were assigned a room in the condemned block on the east of the

quadrangle, wherein we spread our rugs and erected our camp beds. It

was 26 feet square, with a lofty wooden ceiling, supported by two

pillars of the same material. The adjoining apartment was in process

of demolition, but, although without a roof, it served admirably as a

kitchen, while the flooring provided fuel for our fire. When all was

in order we should not have exchanged the results of our improvisation

even for the creations of the Cambridge upholsterer, mellowed in the

hands of the Cambridge bedmaker; while, as for living, was it not

preferable to possess the whole of our scapegrace cook than to share

the services of the most virtuous of gyps? Each day as we mounted our

staircase, which exactly recalled its sad Cambridge counterparts, I

was struck by the resemblance of my new surroundings to those among

which I had grown up in the Old Court of Trinity, with the sky and

the fountain and the adjacent cloister, where the glory of the foliage

and lawn and river is spread in mystery beyond the trellis screens.

Even beneath this tropical sun the mind of man has surpassed his

difficulties; and just as the Cam has been converted from a melancholy

ditch into a brimming waterway, threading a landscape of lawn and

forest, so the Kasagh has been impressed into the service of an

artificial lake, bordered by shady avenues. Extremely pleasant is the

stroll round this spacious basin, which is due to the refinement of

Nerses V. (1761-1857). It is situated just outside and south of the

cloister; and while from one side the view discloses the dome and a

cupola of the cathedral (Fig. 50), on the other it is the vault of

Ararat and the pyramid of the Lesser Ararat that are outlined above

the soft foreground of water and trees (Fig. 51). It was a pleasure

to instance this work to General Frese and my Russian acquaintances

as bearing testimony to the sense of security inspired by Russian

rule. The cloister and even the bazar are surrounded by walls worthy

of a fortress, a relic from the old Persian times. The Russians

appear on the scene, and the imprisoned monks disport in the open,

which they make to bloom with luscious groves.

On the morning following a restful day which introduced us to our

new environment I was invited to visit His Holiness. He had arrived

within the walls of the cloister during our sojourn on Ararat, and it

appeared that he had scarcely been able to leave his apartments owing

to the enthusiasm of the humbler among his admirers, who could not be

restrained from pressing round him whenever he walked abroad. This

enforced seclusion had developed a tendency to asthma; but with

this exception I found him in excellent health. Even the garden

had been invaded by the peasants, who would wait hour after hour to

catch a glimpse of their Hayrik--a term of endearment, signifying

little father, under which Khrimean is very generally known. Two

footmen in scarlet robes with blue sashes stood upon the flight of

steps or busied themselves with errands. I was ushered into a long

apartment, modestly furnished in European style, where I was received

by an Armenian gentleman, of the handsome aquiline type of face,

who addressed me in fluent English. He had been interpreter to the

delegates to the Berlin Congress, and more recently had been much in

the society of the Katholikos, residing at Jaffa (Jerusalem). Baron

Serapion Murad--the first name is the equivalent of Mr.--holds a

position of the first importance in the counsels of His Holiness

at this juncture in his career. He is the shrewd man of the world,

who weighs you in the balance with a single glance of his intelligent

eyes. I appear to have emerged on the right side of the scale; for his

formidable scrutiny rapidly relaxed into an amiable smile. We passed

from this outer room into a chamber with a daïs at the further side;

and presently the Katholikos entered and mounted the daïs, begging

us be seated on two chairs which were placed on the floor below,

but quite close to his own arm-chair.

I do not remember having ever seen a more handsome and engaging face;

and I experienced a thrill of pleasure at the mere fact of sitting

beside him and seeing the smile, which was evidently habitual to

those features, play around the limpid brown eyes. The voice too is

one of great sweetness, and the manner a quiet dignity with strength

behind. The footmen and the daïs and the antechamber were soon

forgotten in this presence--forms necessary to little men and perhaps

useful to their superiors, though they are always kicking them off

when they are not stumbling among their folds. Happily the temperament

of His Holiness is averse to all baubles; the cross of diamonds was

absent from his conical cowl, and his black silk robe, upon which fell

a beard which was not yet white, was unrelieved by the star of his

Russian order. These ornaments are strangely out of place on such a

figure, and their formulas out of keeping with this character. I was

closely questioned upon all the incidents of our climb on Ararat;

nor was it doubted that we had reached the summit. In the old days

such a pretension would have been met with a smile. Then we passed

to his sojourn in England, and I asked his opinion of Mr. Gladstone,

with whom he had enjoyed some intercourse. He had been impressed, like

so many others, with the theological cast of that supple mind. The face

contracted when we came to speak of his life in the Turkish provinces;

and he laid stress upon the terrible reality of the sufferings of the

Armenian inhabitants. All the struggles and hopes and anguish of his

strenuous days and sleepless nights seemed to rise in the mind and

choke the voice. Then he sank back, with a sigh which seemed to regret

them. "I have come," he said, "to the land of Forgetfulness."--And

from the quadrangle came the sound of a slowly-moving Russian anthem,

and the measured step of a detachment of Russian soldiers.

His Holiness invited me to take my meals in his private dining-room,

and expressed his regret that he would not be present himself. It

happened to be a fast day, and nothing was offered but lentils and

peas. But on the day following quite a banquet was spread before

us--salmon trout from Lake Sevan, delicious dolmas of minced meat

and rice bound together by tender cabbage leaves, and the usual

not very tasty chickens. At the head of the table sat the vicar or

substitute of the Katholikos, with M. Pribil on a special mission

representing the Emperor on his right hand, and General Frese on his

left. One or two Armenian notables were of the party, which, however,

consisted for the most part of bishops resident at Edgmiatsin. All

wore their black silk cowls during the meal. As one looked down the

line of clerics the aquiline type of face predominated--fine human

animals they seemed, with their pronounced features and limpid eyes

and the long beards which keep their colour and speak of a mind at

ease. One of the monks present spoke French fluently; but he had been

imported from the Crimea by the present Katholikos. His name was Khoren

Stephaneh. Many a pleasant talk I had with him, but not during dinner;

they have too much respect in the East for their food and cook to

divert the tongue at such a time from its proper function. What little

ripples of conversation diversified the natural sounds of the meal

were due to that restless spirit of the West, which is always asking

questions and living several hours in advance of the actually present

time. I do not know that either of the high Russian functionaries

were much troubled by this particular product of Western culture;

but, if they were, they must have suffered from the inability of

their hosts to comprehend their language. The wine of the cloister

flowed freely, and was supplemented by European liqueurs. Then the

restless spirit broke bounds, attacking first the taciturnity of the

Governor of Erivan. The formula I had heard so often was the first to

take wing; and "How long are you staying here?" came across the table

in a somewhat loud voice. It was not the least unkindly meant. Next

the same little sprite perched upon M. Pribil, and extracted several

questions, which it let fly. When we rose from table he engaged me

in a discursive conversation which ranged freely over the Armenian

Question. He affirmed that the Armenians did not compose more than

one-fifth of the population of the Russian provinces south of Caucasus.

The apartment was soon empty, every one retiring to their siesta; but

I strolled out and made my way to the humble monastic buildings which

adjoin the lonely church of Saint Gaiane. There I found a new friend

whom I had learnt to value, a young monk recently ordained. Mesrop

Ter-Mosesean belongs to the new school of clerics who will before

long remove that stigma of crass ignorance which still attaches to

the bulk of the Armenian priesthood. Men like Khrimean have long

perceived that in matters of education Germany occupies the first

position among the nations of the world. With greater insight than

the Turks, who send their young men to Paris--the very worst school

for the full-blooded Oriental--they encourage their promising scholars

to study in Germany, and find the necessary funds. The monk of Gaiane

had just returned from the German University, and he does credit to the

solid attainments which it supplies. He is a splendid physical example

of his race. Tall, with the bold features of the handsome type which

I have described, with a massive forehead and teeth white as snow,

he combines with these outward advantages a manner which is most

winning and a simple, straightforward character. Hours I spent in his

little sitting-room during my sojourn, and I was always sorry to come

away. He occupies the post of librarian at Edgmiatsin, and he is now

busy with the compilation of a new and comprehensive catalogue. [141]

On this occasion we walked across to the library, and found it full of

people. It is entered from the side of the Katholikos' garden. I was

shocked by the spectacle of valuable manuscripts lying open on a long

table, and being fingered by a promiscuous crowd. Such was the license

of this national festival. I noticed among them a New Testament of

the tenth century, bound in richly carved ivory sides. The type and

pose of the Christ in the centre of the one panel recalled that of a

Roman emperor. [142] Beautiful manuscripts of the thirteenth century

and a minutely illuminated missal of the seventeenth figured among

the treasures which any hand was allowed to soil.

Evensong was at hand, and my companion and myself entered the

dimly-lit church. The Katholikos was already seated in the throne

with the canopy, attired in a rich white satin robe. The cross of

diamonds flashed from his cowl. Bishops and monks composed two rows,

extending to the daïs of the apse; they wore robes of yellow silk,

embroidered with coloured garlands of flowers. The congregation was

very numerous, but clustered in groups about the Katholikos; there

was no order or assignment of places, as with us. They sat or knelt

upon the floor. On either side of the lines of clerics were gathered

the choir, in gorgeous dresses, holding large and cumbrous books

of Armenian music. The priests conducting the service stood upon

the pavement of the church with their backs to the daïs. Above them

rose the shapes of crosses and gorgeous eikons, held aloft by their

attendants. Incense was scattered at intervals. I noticed that His

Holiness twice changed raiment, although I was at a loss to discover

when and where the transformation had taken place. The strongly nasal

chants hurt my unaccustomed ear, and I found it impossible to educate

my sympathy into communion with this show.

An hour or two later symbols and eikons and tight little formulas

were all blissfully asleep; and the great court flooded over with

good, healthy human spirits, released from the restraints of the

day. Bonfires were lit within it, from which the leaping flames shot

into the shadows of the church of the Illuminator and revealed the

circles of the dancers. From many a brightly-lit room, given over

to the pilgrims, came the shrill sounds of the flute and the beats

of the small drum. Hai-this and Hai-that--the refrain and burden

of every song celebrated the glories of the sons of Hayk. In the

street of Vagharshapat our friends the musicians from Alexandropol

were reaping a golden harvest. Was there ever collected together a

more motley crowd? They must have come great distances. There were

ladies from Akhaltsykh, with the pretty fillets across the brow;

there were frock-coats and uniforms. The bright calicoes of peasant

women enlivened the scene; some of the men, the poorest class, wore

their rough sheepskin hats, while the better-to-do had donned low

caps with a peak, like that of a naval officer. Long before midnight

quiet had settled upon the great quadrangle, and nothing was heard

but the plash of the fountain. But sombre patches marked the spots

where whole families were encamped; while the steps all around the

church and every niche and doorway were black with the forms of

serried human beings in every attitude of slumber.

Next morning, the 8th of October, popular excitement was at its

highest, the central event which they had come to celebrate being

imminent. From the earliest dawn throngs of sheepskins and peak hats

and coloured calicoes had been busy reconnoitring the most suitable

positions; and, when the hour approached, all the roofs which commanded

a view of the portal, and a good part of the quadrangle enjoying the

same advantage, were densely packed with spectators. Rows of Russian

soldiers kept clear the approaches to the western or principal entrance

of the church. They wore dark green uniforms with shoulder-straps

of a faded pink, and peaked caps of white canvas. Wesson and I

made our way with difficulty to the residence of the Katholikos,

where, in the private room of Baron Murad, we set up the camera

right in face of the scene of the approaching ceremony. It had been

decided to perform the rite of consecration upon a daïs in front

of the portal. This improvised wooden structure was covered with

carpets and costly embroideries. Over the doorway of the portal

were emblazoned large Armenian letters upon a ground of cloth or

canvas. The inscription reminded us that we were assembled upon the

actual site where Jesus Christ is believed to have descended from

heaven. The name of the cloister and cathedral is said to signify

"The Only-Begotten has descended"; and the text over the doorway

may be translated "The Only-Begotten has descended from the Father,

and the light of glorification with Him." Upon a higher plane, from

the tower of the belfry, was suspended a banner, embroidered with the

device of the Katholikos and with the eagle of Vaspurakan (Van). The

device consisted of a mitre, surmounting the figures of two angels,

one carrying a cross and the other a pastoral staff. These emblems

crossed one another, and at the intersection was placed an ornament

of diamond shape peculiar to the Katholikos. The eagle with the wings

outspread was purely personal to Khrimean, recalling the many links

which attach him to Van. The scroll was to the following effect:--"O

God, the knower of hearts, protect for long years our chief of

shepherds (Hovapet) Mekertich Hayrik." Left and right of the daïs,

in niches of the façade of the portal, were exhibited two eikons,

or religious pictures, richly framed, of which that on the left--a

Virgin and Child--was a painting of very high merit, said to be of

Byzantine origin.

At a quarter to nine the procession is formed, and proceeds from

the pontifical residence down the avenue of soldiers to the church

door. The service which is held within the cathedral of the Illuminator

lasts for over an hour. The party assembled in our upper chamber spend

the time with conversation and in gazing down upon the multitude. It

consists of a nun from Tiflis, a frock-coated teacher in a school

of that city, and a pretty woman of the rich Armenian bourgeoisie of

Tiflis, attired in a dress of Parisian model. The nun is a charming

woman, and we make great friends. She informs me that she is almost

an unique specimen of her order; the convent at Tiflis is perhaps

a solecism. Nunneries are not popular with the Armenians. I think

my reader may appreciate the magnificent robes which belong to

her office, and of which, by her kindness, I am able to supply an

illustration (Fig. 52). I notice that among the women assembled in the

quadrangle the Armenian national dress is not often seen. The Georgian

head-dress--a band of black velvet, embroidered with beads or jewels,

across the temples, and a white silk kerchief over the head--appears

to predominate. This fact would show that the greater number of those

present have come from Tiflis and the northern districts.

Just as we are getting a little bored with the finicking architecture

of the portal there is a movement and a rustle, and the procession

issues from the church. First to appear are the high Russian officials

in Court dress--M. Pribil, General Frese and the rest. They take

up position on the floor of the quadrangle in front of the crowd,

and face the still vacant daïs. Between them and this central

object room is left for the choir and deacons, who are presently

introduced. Hats are doffed in spite of the fierce sun. A brief,

intense pause, and the twelve bishops [143] in gorgeous attire mount

the daïs from behind. They escort the venerable form of the Katholikos,

over whose head two attendants support a canopy of crimson material,

embroidered with gold lace. For a short space the aged patriarch fronts

the multitude in a standing posture; then sinks on the carpet with his

feet beneath his body in Eastern fashion. Erect beside him, a bishop

reads from a heavy volume. From time to time you detect a movement of

the deeply-bowed head of the seated figure, as a particular passage

is recited. Next a bishop advances, bearing in his hands the image

of a dove, wrought in gold. It is the receptacle of the holy oil. In

the southern apse of the cathedral stands a chest containing a vase,

in which is preserved oil blessed by St. Gregory. It is nothing, they

say, but a mass of dry material. Of this substance they take a pinch

and mix it with consecrated oil, specially prepared and scented with

essence of flowers. Such is the liquid which is allowed to flow from

the beak of the dove upon the head of the father of the nation. The

bishops gather round, and each with his thumb spreads the oil over the

scalp, making the figure of a cross at the same time (Fig. 53). Then

a mass of wool is applied to the crown of the head, in the folds of a

muslin veil which is adjusted to fall over the face. The Katholikos

rises after a brief interval, places his feet in his embroidered

slippers and with the bishops re-enters the church. The ceremony has

occupied a quarter of an hour.

Some little time elapses, and the same procession leaves the building,

accompanying the anointed pontiff to his residence. The choir sing

from their great books the old Armenian chants [144] with their loud

lamentations and long shakes. The band of the Russian regiment play a

slow and solemn music, of which the sweetness puts to shame the nasal

choristers. They are mostly Armenians in this band. These strains

bring the rite to a conclusion, and we all disperse to our various

amusements or occupations.

The dinner "in hall" upon this festival of the consecration was a very

interesting incident. We were all to dine in the refectory. When

I entered, the long apartment was crammed. The scholars of the

Academy partook of the meal in the parallel chamber. The bishops,

the monks, the delegates composed a sombre assembly, stretching

in rows of long perspective down the tables. A single exception to

this dark apparel was furnished by a delegate from Karabagh, who was

seated next myself. He wore his national dress--a spare black tunic,

fastened at the neck, displaying the front and sleeves of a light blue

silken vest. His face was large and expressive of great resolution,

especially the chin, which, like the cheeks, was shaved. The bronze

complexion heightened the whiteness of the bold moustache. One was

reminded of the best type of peasant proprietors in Europe; and,

indeed, a view of the faces round one confirmed that favourable

impression which one receives from the society of Armenians in

their native country. There is depicted a striking union of force of

character with intelligence. In the midst of these reflections the

Katholikos enters the building, and we all rise from our seats. He

sits on his throne beneath the canopy, and a monk ministers to his

needs. On either side stands a scarlet footman with a blue sash;

the choir are drawn up behind. After the first course His Holiness

rises, wearing his cowl and the glittering cross, and proposes the

toast of the Emperor. It is a delight to hear him speak. He has all

the personal fascination of Mr. Gladstone. Dinner proceeds as the

catalogue of toasts is gone through, and between each toast European

melodies are sung by the choir, and songs by an Armenian tenor of

repute. The health of the Emperor is received with cries of Oura;

but the remaining toasts without exception with the Armenian cheer of

Ketsze! the equivalent of the French Vive! In proposing the health of

M. Pribil His Holiness recites the various occasions upon which that

functionary has come to Edgmiatsin to attend the consecration or the

funeral of a Katholikos. Turning to his guest with a winning smile,

he begs him to defer his next ceremonial visit until after the lapse

of a moderate interval.

In the evening the whole quadrangle was illuminated with strings of

coloured glasses containing candles. They made a very pretty show. At

intervals huge firebrands threw a lurid light upon the buildings. The

numerous choir of the Academy was marshalled in the court, including

many ladies. The programme comprised several cantatas and some

concerted music, and the standard was fairly high. But it appears

difficult to eliminate the nasal pronunciation. The music-master

was a great swell with his inspired look and flowing hair. The

band discoursed the waltzes of the immortal Strauss. Before eleven

all sound was hushed save the plash of the fountain, and darkness

unrelieved had settled upon the scene. I made my way to the rooms

of His Holiness and ascertained that he would receive me in spite of

the lateness of the hour.

I found him reclining on a wooden couch in a bare white-washed

apartment; a single rug was suspended upon the wall beside the

couch. Such is the bed and such the furniture natural to the object

of all this pomp, which I do not doubt is profoundly distasteful to

such a character. He took my hand in his, and we sat together for

some time, the office of interpreter being, I think, performed by

Dr. Arshak Ter Mikelean. Our talk ranged over many subjects; but

I should have preferred to sit still, look in those eyes and hear

that voice. I think we both felt that we were very near each other;

and religion is a subtler thing than can be defined in creeds and

dogmas or embodied in what the world calls "views."

On the following days the state of tension was gradually relaxed;

the cloister settled down to ordinary life, and it was possible to

examine the churches at one's ease. These are actually four in number,

although in Mohammedan times the district was known under the name

of Uch Kilisa, or Three Churches. [145] Their origin is bound up

with a legend which plays such a considerable part in the history of

the Armenian Church that, before passing to a description of them,

it may not be inappropriate to instruct or amuse my readers with this

curious story. [146]

Towards the close of the third century, while Tiridates was on

the throne of Armenia, the Emperor Diocletian (284-305), [147]

in search of a beauteous spouse, sent artists into all parts of

his empire to depict the charms of suitable candidates for the

imperial embrace. Now there happened to be in Rome a convent of

nuns of austere life, of which the superior was called Gaiane. Under

her charge was a virgin of surpassing beauty and of royal lineage,

whose name was Ripsime. The artists entered her retreat by force,

committed her lineaments to their tablets, and sent the portrait with

several others to their master. The emperor had no sooner gazed upon

the image of the high-born virgin than he fell violently in love. No

pains were spared to hurry forward the preparations for the marriage,

and the wretched bride was in despair. Her vow of chastity and the

hatred she felt for the persecutor of her sect encouraged her to

adopt the counsels of despair. She took to flight, attended by Gaiane

and a numerous company of the nuns; and after many wanderings the

band arrived upon the banks of the distant Araxes, in the outskirts

of the Armenian capital of Vagharshapat. There they discovered a

secluded retreat in a place which served as a store for vats, the

city possessing extensive vineyards. One of their number was versed

in the art of the manufacture of glass objects; she made glass pearls,

and their price defrayed the cost of their daily sustenance.

Meanwhile the emperor had despatched messengers in every direction,

and a Roman ambassador arrived at the court of the Armenian king. He

was the bearer of a letter to that monarch from his master, who related

how the Empire was suffering from the misdeeds of the Christians, and

in particular how a beautiful virgin whom he himself had desired to

marry had been abstracted by her infatuated co-sectaries and taken into

the territory of his Armenian ally. The emperor begged his beloved

colleague to track the party out, and, with the exception of the

wondrous virgin, to put them all to death. As for the lovely fugitive,

it would only be necessary to send her back; but the missive added,

with an amiability truly worthy of an emperor, that the king might

keep her if overcome by her charms.

As might be expected, no time was lost on the part of Tiridates to

institute and elaborate the search. The band was found; the beauty

of Ripsime needed no identification; and the fame of it attracted a

multitude of all ranks--princes and nobles, shoulder to shoulder with

the common people, closing round her under the sting of licentious

desire. The nuns raised their hands to heaven and drew their veils

about their faces; and perhaps this display of modesty averted their

ruin. Early on the following morning there arrived from the palace

magnificent litters and costly robes, the design of the king being

to take to wife the Christian maiden and make her queen of the

Armenians. But at this juncture a peal of thunder carried terror

into all hearts, and a voice was heard descending from the sky. It

was the voice of the Saviour, adjuring the nuns to take courage and

remain firm for the glorification of His name among the peoples

of the north. "Thou Ripsime," it proceeded, "hast been cast out

(exerriphthês) with Gaiane and thy companions from the realm of death

into that of eternal life." Meanwhile the thunder had caused a panic

among the assembled people, and the king's officers hastened to the

royal presence, bringing a written report of all they had heard. But

the monarch hardened his heart, and, since she refused the pomp he

offered, gave orders that the maiden should be taken by force and

brought to the royal apartments.

These directions were executed, but not without difficulty; the pious

virgin was of stalwart frame, and the soldiers were obliged to drag

her along the ground, or carry her struggling in their arms. When they

had placed her in the king's chamber, and it was announced that the

king had entered, the people outside the palace feasted and danced

and sang. But their rejoicings were premature; for the intrepid Roman

maiden was more than a match even for the powers of so redoubtable

an antagonist. Tiridates was widely famed for physical strength and

deeds of prowess; yet, although he persisted in his suit for not less

than seven hours, he was at last compelled through sheer exhaustion to

give in. The offices of Gaiane were invoked; she consented to speak,

but her counsels were addressed to confirming the courage of her

companion. Her Latin speech was understood by some among those present;

they took stones and tore her face and broke her teeth. After a brief

repose the king returned, and again endeavoured to overcome the girl's

obstinacy; but after a long struggle the inspired amazon was a second

time victorious; she threw the king (erripsen), destroyed his diadem,

and dismissed him from the chamber, fainting and gathering around

him his tattered robes.

A tender respect for the honour of women is a virtue of Christian

origin, which the romance of Western chivalry converted into a cult of

the fair sex. But the king of Armenia was an Oriental, a heathen and

a barbarian; nor had he been instructed in the code which precludes

the sentiment of humiliation in the vanquished where the victor is

possessed of a female form. His passion as a lover was overcome by

his fury as a thwarted despot; the virgin had fled from the palace,

but his savage emissaries were soon on her track. The unfortunate

maiden directed her steps to the retreat where the vats were stored,

and gave the alarm to her companions. All those present, excepting one

who was stricken with illness, accompanied her flight. But when they

had reached some rising ground near the road which led to Artaxata,

they were overtaken, bound with cords and put to death with great

cruelty. With Ripsime there perished thirty-two of her attendants,

while the poor nun who had been left behind presently met the same

fate. The martyrdom of Gaiane and of two companions took place on the

following day and was attended with tortures which I should shudder

to commit to paper.

Not many days after this tragedy its author was visited by the

vengeance of heaven; a demon entered his body, and, like his

prototype of Babylon, the king of Armenia was turned into an animal

eating grass. In the form of a wild boar he resisted all attempts to

confine him; and similar punishments overtook the royal family and

attendants. At length the sister of the king, by name Khosrovidukht,

beheld in the watches of night a vision. A man with a radiant face

appeared and addressed her, to the effect that the only remedy was

to send to the town of Artaxata and summon thence a prisoner named

Gregory. When she related the vision people shook their heads,

and attributed it to the incipient madness of the princess. For

Gregory, who was once an honoured servant of King Tiridates, had been

cast by the tyrant into a deep pit, on account of his profession

of Christianity, not less than fifteen years ago. Would even his

bones be forthcoming from such a place? But when several times the

vision had been repeated, and the princess renewed her insistence,

a great noble was despatched to the place where the pit was situated,

near the town of Artaxata. A rope was let down into the cavern; and,

to the astonishment of all, there emerged a human form, blackened to

the colour of coal. It was none other than St. Gregory.

The saint was met by the king and nobles, foaming and devouring their

flesh, as he approached the city along the road from Artaxata. Sinking

on his knees, he obtained from heaven the restoration of their reason,

although not of their human forms. His next care was the burial of

the martyrs; he found their bodies, lying where they fell, and still

untouched by corruption after the lapse of nine days. No dog or beast

or bird had approached the remains. St. Gregory took them with him

to the place where the vats were stored; and for sixty-six days he

sojourned in that place, instructing the king and nobles. After the

lapse of that period he related to them a vision which he had beheld

during the middle watches of the night. The royal party had come at

sunrise to prostrate themselves before the holy man.

During his vigil, while his mind was revolving the recent acts of

Divine grace, a violent peal of thunder, followed by a terrible

rumbling sound, had fallen upon his startled sense. The firmament

opened as a tent opens, and from the heaven descended the form of a

man, radiant with celestial light. The name of Gregory was pronounced;

the saint looked upon the face of the man, and fell trembling to the

ground. Enjoined to raise his eyes, he beheld the waters above the

firmament cloven and parcelled apart like hills and valleys, extending

beyond the range of sight. Streams of light poured down from on high

upon the earth, and, with the light, innumerable cohorts of shining

human figures with wings of living flame. At their head was One of

terrible face whom all followed as the supreme ruler of the host;

He bore in his hand a golden mallet, and, alighting on the ground in

the centre of the city, struck with His mallet the crust of the broad

earth. The report of the blow penetrated into the abysses below the

earth; far and near all inequalities of the surface were smoothed out,

and the land became a uniform plain.

And the saint perceived in the middle of the city, near the palace

of the king, a circular pedestal made of gold and of the size of a

large plateau, upon which was reared an immensely lofty column of

fire with a cloud for capital, surmounted by a flaming cross. As he

gazed he became aware of three other pedestals. One rose from the spot

where the holy Gaiane suffered martyrdom; a second from the site of the

massacre of Ripsime and her companions; and the third from the position

occupied by the magazine of vats. These pedestals were of the colour

of blood; the columns were of cloud, and the capitals of fire. The

crosses resembled the cross of the Saviour, and might be likened to

pure light. The three columns were equal in height one with another,

but a little lower than that which rose near the royal palace. Upon

the summits of all four were suspended arcs of wondrous appearance;

and above the intersection of the arcs was displayed an edifice with

a dome, the substance being cloud. On the arcs stood the thirty-seven

martyrs, figures of ineffable beauty attired in white robes; while the

crown of the figure above the edifice was a throne of Divine fashioning

surmounted by the cross of Christ. The light of the throne mingled

with the light of the cross and descended to the bases of the columns.

When Gregory had related this vision he bade all present gird up

their loins and lose no time in erecting chapels to the martyred

virgins, where their remains might be deposited. Thus the saints

might intercede for the afflicted king and people and assist them to

become healed. Forthwith the multitude set to work, collected stones

and bricks and cedar-wood; and, under the guidance of the saint,

constructed three chapels after a prescribed design. One was placed

towards the north and on the east of the city, on the spot where

Ripsime and her companions met their death. The site of the second

was further south, where the Superior Gaiane was massacred; while

that of the third was close to the magazine of vats. These they built

and adorned with lamps of gold and silver, with candelabra of which

the flames were never quenched. Coffins were made for the remains

of the martyrs; but no man was suffered to touch these relics, for

none had been baptized. The saint himself and in solitude consigned

the bodies to their receptacles. And when this was done he fell on

his knees and prayed for the healing of the king, that haply the

king might share in the work. The prayer was granted, and the horn

fell from the royal hands and feet. To the monarch was assigned the

task of digging tombs in the chapels to receive the coffins of the

martyrs; and his consort, the queen Ashkhen, together with his sister

Khosrovidukht, were associated with him in the work. The return of his

vigour was signalised on the part of the king by a labour worthy of

the patriarch Hayk. He made a journey to the summit of Ararat, which

the compiler rightly observes would occupy seven days. [148] When he

had completed this feat, he was seen bearing upon his shoulders eight

blocks of stone of gigantic size which he had taken from the crest

of the mountain. These he placed before the threshold of the chapel

of the martyred Ripsime in expiation of the unholy battle which he

had waged. [149] In this manner all was accomplished according to the

vision of St. Gregory; while, as for the locality where had stood the

column of fire on the golden pedestal, it was surrounded by the saint

with a high wall and heavy gates; the sign of the cross was erected

within it, that the pilgrims might there worship the all-powerful

God. Upon his return from Cæsarea, and after the baptism of king and

people, St. Gregory completed his task by building the cathedral upon

this site.

Such is the legend which, with variations, has supplied the patent

of the famous monastery, and invested the pilgrimage to the church of

Christ descended and to the chapels of the martyrs with the character

at once of a religious and of a patriotic act. The first of these

edifices stands in the centre of the great quadrangle of the cloister,

and, as we have seen, is believed to have been originally raised by

St. Gregory the Illuminator, to whom the Armenians attribute their

conversion to Christianity. The spot where the Saviour alighted and

struck the broad earth with the mallet is situated about the middle

of the building; and in the old days was indicated by a slab of hewn

stone, 3 feet square and 5 feet in thickness. [150] This stone was

said to have been substituted for the original marble slab which

was reputed to have been due to St. Gregory himself and to have been

carried off by Shah Abbas. [151] In the first quarter of the eighteenth

century, during the pontificate of Astvatsadur, an elaborate altar

was placed upon this hallowed site, and still stands there beneath

the dome. It is surmounted by a canopy supported by four pillars of

Tabriz marble, and is well seen in my illustration of the interior

(Fig. 55). It appears to have replaced one of simpler design erected

by the Katholikos Eleazar.

I cannot invite my reader to admire the architecture of this

cathedral, although the interior, with its spacious body,

central dome and four apses, one at each point of the compass,

is sufficiently remarkable. Much the same design is seen in

the church of St. Ripsime; but in that building it underlies

important developments which probably argue a later date. The

original form of the exterior is rather difficult to unravel

owing to the excrescences, of which I may safely say that none

are improvements, that have been added at various times. But let

me briefly undertake the work of demolition, addressing myself

to the illustration, which was taken from the south-west (Fig. 49).

The portal on the left of the picture is a work of the seventeenth

century; it was commenced by the Katholikos Philip and completed

by his successor Jacob in 1658. It is probably due to the mania

for portals prevalent in Armenia at that period and not to a

feature of the earlier plan. Just east of and adjoining the

balcony of this structure is seen a window with a richly carved

column in the centre, surmounted by a cross and supporting two

ornamental arches. This window and the upper portion of the

building to which it belongs are in subservience to the portal,

with which they are in architectural harmony, and which they link

with the main edifice. The lower part, including the frieze or

quasi-classical moulding, which runs right round the church,

is in a different style and of a different form of masonry,

being indeed an integral member of the body of the church. You

have only to remove the window and pointed roof, build up the

wall above the cornice and cover it with a flat roof, and you

obtain precisely the same projection which the picture shows on

the south side and which is necessitated by the south apse.

We have now obtained the figure of a body with four projecting

members, each of which represents an apse. The roof would appear

to have been always built at a very low angle; it is, as usual,

of stone. But we have yet to disencumber the apse on the east,

which is completely hidden by the stupid building which contains

the treasury and room of relics--an annexe which from outside

lengthens and perverts the original edifice. We owe this feature

to the Katholikos George IV., who died in 1882. This apse had a

lesser projection than its fellows from the wall of the church,

owing to the incidence of the two indispensable side chapels,

which were small and merely entailed a slight advance of the

rectangular walls. Over each apse it has been customary to have

a belfry; when the portal was added this feature of the apse on

the west was transferred to that structure. The open cupolas

with belfries which are at present seen over the three apses

were built in the year 1682 by the Katholikos Eleazar. They are

of bright red stone, of which the hue contrasts in a displeasing

manner with the dull grey of the body of the church.

The central dome, which is supported on piers in the interior,

consists of a polygonal drum with a window in each face surmounted

by a conical roof. A false arcade with slender columns and pointed

arches enriches, together with a carved cornice, the simplicity

of the design. This dome is believed to date from the seventh

century, and to be the work which the Katholikos Komitas (617-625)

erected in place of an earlier structure in wood. If this be the

case we have an example of this form of dome in Armenia a hundred

years before the time when it is supposed by Fergusson to have

been developed. [152] It is a pity that some vandal has daubed

it over with plaster and paint, which invests it with a grotesque

appearance. Above each window is a medallion containing the head

of a saint, and I saw traces of spiral carving on the columns. An

almost flat-roofed building with this dome in the centre, with

four projecting apses, one at each point of the compass and each

surmounted by a little belfry--such would appear to have been the

original exterior of the edifice which we see at the present day.

An ingenious traveller, whose judgment was influenced by the

cornice of the building, and perhaps too by certain stone slabs

with Greek inscriptions which are inserted in the walls, has

conjectured that this exterior, with the exception of the dome and

belfries, dates at least in part from the reign of King Tiridates

(end of the third and commencement of the fourth century). [153]

He has gone so far as to present us with an illustration,

showing what he conceives to have been the original form. [154]

We know from Moses of Khorene that this monarch erected at Garni

in the district of Erivan a building of surpassing beauty to his

sister Khosrovidukht; and it is almost certain that the remains

of a purely classical building which have been seen by modern

travellers upon that site belong to this monument or to one of

the same period. [155] The presumption of Dubois is therefore

justified that a building of the reign of Tiridates would be likely

to display classical features and ornaments. But his conjecture

as regards this particular church must at present be considered

to belong to the realm of hypothesis. The presence of the slabs

with the Greek inscriptions would prove nothing; they may have

been taken from an earlier building, or they may quite well be

later in date than the invention and use of the Armenian alphabet

in the fifth century. Dubois indeed is inclined to ascribe them

to a period earlier than the conversion of Tiridates, and to see

in them memorials of a Christianity practised in Armenia prior to

the preaching of St. Gregory. This conjecture, which is adopted

with complacency by Ritter, is probably quite baseless. The

inscriptions have quite recently been subjected to the critical

scrutiny of a scholar in Byzantine lore. I may refer my reader to

his work. They are incised upon two slabs inserted in the wall,

rather high up and a little east of the northern apse. The slabs

are close together. I was unable to decipher the writing with the

aid of my glasses, as the stone has been much worn. The slab with

the figures of Paulos and Thekla is attributed by this scholar

to the fifth or the sixth century, and its companion to about

the same date. His opinion is based upon internal evidence. [156]

It would take too long to pursue a study relying on this kind of

testimony into the approximate date of the cathedral. It must

suffice to have placed my reader in possession of the leading

facts. As regards the evidence of literature as to restorations

and additions it is summarised in the accompanying note. [157]

If the essential features of the present building be due to

the restoration of Vahan Mamikonean (A.D. 483), it will be a

work anterior to Justinian. At that time the Armenian architect

would not have enjoyed the advantage of studying the designs of

the several churches which, according to Procopius, that emperor

erected in Western Armenia. [158] It would appear preferable to

ascribe these features to the restoration under Komitas (618), if

we were obliged to choose between the two. But this and kindred

questions respecting the origin of the church and monastery are

wrapped in obscurity. At what date did Edgmiatsin become the

residence of the katholikos? This cardinal question still remains

without a certain answer. We know that he transferred his seat from

Vagharshapat to Dvin in the year 452, and that he did not return

until 1441. We also know that the seventh century was a period of

building activity; after Komitas we have the Katholikos Nerses

III. (640-661), surnamed the builder, who erected a magnificent

church in close vicinity to the churches of Edgmiatsin and buried

the relics of St. Gregory beneath its four colossal pillars. [159]

There is no reason to doubt that the four Byzantine capitals which

are preserved in the Academy belonged to this edifice. [160]

The independence of the national church, so jealously guarded

by the Armenians, was intimately bound up with the Edgmiatsin

legend; and the pontiffs appear to have spared no pains during

the earlier centuries to maintain the holy places and prevent

them sharing the fate of the temporal capital, Vagharshapat.

The entrance from the portal to the church is through a rather

low doorway, conducting you into the apse-formed projection

on the west. The stone panels about and above this doorway are

richly carved and show traces of gilding (Fig. 54). In the south

wall of the building you are shown an old door, long walled up,

which is supposed to date from a hoar antiquity and is called

the door of Tiridates. Lastly you will probably be taken to the

belfry above the portal and be shown the famous Tibetan bell. It

bears the thrice repeated legend Ôm a hum, the mystic formula of

the Buddhists. [161] Before the portal are several tombstones,

commemorating deceased pontiffs, and among them that of the

enlightened Nerses V. One in marble is raised over the remains

of Sir John Macdonald, British envoy to the court of Persia. The

bald inscription contrasts with the eloquence of the situation

under the shadow of this St. Peter's of distant Armenia and among

the graves of the highest dignitaries of her national church. [162]

Passing now to the interior (Fig. 55 and plan), it is the form

which is impressive--the quadruple apse with a canopy altar in

each of these recesses, except that on the west. In the centre,

beneath the dome, stands the altar which I have already described;

there are therefore four altars in this church. In front of the

apse on the east rises the parapet of the daïs, as usual; but

the higher level of the floor in those on the north and south is

approached by steps which extend from wall to wall. The lateral

chapels on the east, which are so constant a feature in Armenian

churches, are scarcely noticeable in this building, being, I think,

incorporated in the additions which were made by George IV. at

the back of the church. The space on the floor of the edifice

is railed off in two places from north to south. There is of

course no pulpit, and there are no pews. The light falls from

twelve little windows in the spacious dome upon a scene which is

rendered dim by the darkness of the mural paintings, and which

serves to enhance the flashing ornaments on the central altar. I

am told that there are in all no less than thirty-five windows;

but they are small and insignificant. Their distribution is not

subordinate to any plan. The paintings on the walls are of no

merit; they represent Biblical subjects, and while some are in

fresco, others are on canvas applied to the stone. They must have

been added at a comparatively recent date; for we are expressly

told by Chardin that in his time the interior was quite bare. The

dome has been pleasantly decorated in the Persian style with

coloured arabesques. These and the various frescos are attributed

to an Armenian artist who lived during the reign of Nadir Shah

(1736-47). [163]

The church is large if compared to other ancient Armenian temples,

but small if judged by a Western standard. The area enclosed must

be rather less than in the case of the cathedral at Ani, although

the dimensions are about the same when the four projections are

included. The measurements of the interior, which I took myself,

give an extreme length of 108 feet 4 inches, and an extreme breadth

of just over 98 feet. Each apse has a depth of about 15 feet 3

inches--a dimension which I have included in my totals. [164]

In the south apse stands the chest containing the vessel with

the holy oil, and beside it a little lamp which flickers night

and day. The recess of its opposite counterpart is adorned with

mural paintings representing eight full-length portraits of the

pillars of the Armenian Church. They are identified as St. Gregory,

with his sons Aristakes and Verthanes, and his grandson Grigor;

as Yusik, Nerses the First, Sahak and Mesrop. The ceremony of

ordination of bishops takes place in this northern apse. A cistern

has been sunk below the floor in front of the recess to serve in

time of siege. Two thrones are conspicuous in the body of the

church, both of which may be discerned in my illustration. The

first, which adjoins the central altar, is inscribed with the

name of Petros Katholikos (Peter II. 1748) and is said to have

been a present from the Pope. [165] The second, situated further

east, is that which was occupied by the Katholikos during the

service which I attended. It is the gift of Armenians during the

pontificate of Astvatsadur (1715-25).

The treasury and room of relics contain many interesting

objects. To these chambers is allotted the building on the east of

the church. Both are entered from the interior and through doors

in the east wall, that on the north of the apse communicating

with the treasury, and that on the south with the apartment

containing the relics. Among the treasures are several objects

which deserve the attention of the student of art, examples of

mediæval Armenian craft being, I imagine, none too frequent. I

observed a crystal cross, said to belong to the Bagratid period,

and some other crosses reputed to have come from Ani. A gold

crown, inlaid with jewels, is ascribed to King Tiridates, and,

whatever its origin, is a very interesting object. The same may

be said of a silver saucer with repoussé figures dating from

the pontificate of Nerses IV. (1166-73). There are a quantity

of jewelled mitres and embroidered stoles and ornaments for the

church. There are seals of the pontiffs and coins of the Rupenian

(Cilician) dynasty. Some store is set upon a head of Dionysus which

is believed to be of Egyptian origin. The monastery has become

possessed of a most curious object in the shape of a huge caldron,

standing on three legs, and having as handles four tigers in the

act of climbing. It was found not many years ago in a cloister

near Tiflis; buried within it was a bell. An inscription round the

rim gives the date of the Armenian era 781 or A.D. 1331. In the

chamber of relics are preserved a fine collection of episcopal

staves surmounted by a cross above a knot of hissing serpents'

heads (Fig. 56, Nos. 1 and 2). Many are of exquisite workmanship.

The principal relics are the hand and arm of St. Gregory, preserved

in a silver gilt case; the head of the holy spear, reputed to

possess the power of staying epidemics; [166] a fragment of the

Ark, to which is attached a jewelled cross; the head and arm

of St. Thaddeus, the apostle; the hand and arm of St. Jacob of

Nisibis; a panel carved with a crucified Christ, said to be the

work of St. John the Apostle and to have been procured by Ashot

Patricius; finally a box containing relics of St. Ripsime.

The chapels of the martyrs, which are churches rather than chapels,

are situated within short walks from the monastery. Thus St. Gaiane

is not more than about a quarter of a mile distant in a southerly

direction. St. Ripsime is a little further, say three-quarters

of a mile; it is placed to the east of Edgmiatsin and is the

first building which you see as you drive from Erivan, on the

very outskirts of the trees and greenery. Shoghakath is a near

neighbour of Ripsime on the side of the great cloister.