Armenia Travels and Studies Volume 2 of 2

335 Pages·2021·2.65 MB·English

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Armenia (Volume 2 of 2), by H. F. B. Lynch

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.

Title: Armenia (Volume 2 of 2)
Travels and Studies

Author: H. F. B. Lynch

Release Date: November 21, 2016 [EBook #53568]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARMENIA (VOLUME 2 OF 2) ***

Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net/ for Project
Gutenberg (This file was produced from images generously
made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

Newly Designed Front Cover.

[Contents]

Original Title Page.

ARMENIA

TRAVELS AND STUDIES

VOL. II

[Contents]

[Contents]

Lake Van with Sipan from Artemid.

LAKE VAN WITH SIPAN FROM ARTEMID.

Frontispiece, Vol. II.

ARMENIA

TRAVELS AND STUDIES

BY

H. F. B. LYNCH

Nature’s vast frame, the web of human things.

Shelley, Alastor.

Who can foretell our future? Spare me the attempt. We are like a harvest

reaped by bad husbandmen amidst encircling gloom and cloud.

John Katholikos

Armenian historian of the Xth century Ch. CLXXXVII.

[Contents]

IN TWO VOLUMES

WITH 197 ILLUSTRATIONS, REPRODUCED FROM

PHOTOGRAPHS AND SKETCHES BY THE AUTHOR,

NUMEROUS MAPS AND PLANS, A BIBLIOGRAPHY

And a Map of Armenia and Adjacent Countries

VOL. II

THE TURKISH PROVINCES

LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.

LONDON: 39 PATERNOSTER ROW

NEW YORK AND BOMBAY

1901

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

Descend into Turkish Territory

CHAPTER II

To Lake Van

CHAPTER III

Across Lake Van

CHAPTER IV

Van

CHAPTER V

From Van to Bitlis

CHAPTER VI

[v]

[Contents]

PAGE

1

11

25

38

116

Bitlis

CHAPTER VII

From Bitlis to Mush—Mush

CHAPTER VIII

From Mush to Erzerum

CHAPTER IX

Erzerum

CHAPTER X

Return to the Border Ranges—Θάλαττα, θάλαττα!

CHAPTER XI

Revisit Armenia

CHAPTER XII

Across the Central Tableland to Khinis

CHAPTER XIII

From Khinis to Tutakh

CHAPTER XIV

Down the Murad to Melazkert

CHAPTER XV

From Melazkert to Akhlat

CHAPTER XVI

Akhlat

CHAPTER XVII

Our Sojourn in the Crater of Nimrud

CHAPTER XVIII

Round Nimrud by Lake Nazik

CHAPTER XIX

Ascent of Sipan

CHAPTER XX

Back to the Central Tableland

CHAPTER XXI

145

160

174

198
[vi]

225

237

245

254

264

276

280

298

314

326

340

Our Sojourn on Bingöl

CHAPTER XXII

Home across the Border Ranges

CHAPTER XXIII

Geographical

CHAPTER XXIV

Statistical and Political

APPENDIX I

National Constitution of the Armenians in the Turkish Empire

APPENDIX II

Chemical Constitution of some Armenian Lakes

BIBLIOGRAPHY

INDEX

LIST OF PLATES

Lake Van with Sipan from Artemid
Plain of Alashkert from the Slopes of Aghri Dagh
Group of Kurd Hamidiyeh Cavalry
Group of Karapapakh Hamidiyeh Cavalry
The Kuseh Dagh from the Plain of Alashkert
Yusuf Bey of Köshk
Kurd of Köshk in Gala Dress
Sipan from the Plain of Patnotz
Van from the Slopes of Mount Varag
Van: Interior of the Mosque of Ulu Jami
Van: Frieze in Ulu Jami
Van: Cuneiform Inscription of Meher or Choban Kapusi
Van: Mount Varag from the Heights of Toprak Kala
Akhtamar: Church from South-East
Akhtamar: Church from North-West
Church at Akhtamar: Sculptures on North Wall
Crater of Nimrud as seen on the Road from Garzik to Bitlis
Bitlis from Avel Meidan
Kerkür Dagh from the South: Nimrud Crater in the background
Young Kurd Woman at Gotni, Mush Plain
Well-to-do Inhabitant of Khaskeui, Mush Plain
Monastery of Surb Karapet from the South
Church of Surb Karapet from South-West
View South from the Terrace at Surb Karapet
The Two Chapels at Surb Karapet
The Akh Dagh and the Plain of Khinis from the South
The Central Tableland, Bingöl in the distance, from near Kulli
Kargabazar, across the Plain of Pasin, from the southern margin of the Central Tableland

Erzerum from the Roof of the British Consulate: the Citadel in the middle distance and
Eyerli Dagh in the background

359
[vii]

379

383

408

445

468

471

497
[ix]

[Contents]

Frontispiece

To face page 2
Back to page 4

5

To face page 10

16
17
19
53

Back to page 106

107

To face page 112

113

Back to page 130

131

To face page 132

142
145
161
163
166

Back to page 176

177

To face page 178

180
186
191

193

208
[x]

Erzerum: Chifteh Minareh
Looking East-South-East from near the Kop Pass
Castle of Kalajik, Upper Kharshut
Monastery of Sumelas
Tekman and the Bingöl Dagh from near Khedonun
Khamur from the Pass between Ali Mur and Khinis
Melazkert from the North: Sipan in the background
Akhlat: Iki Kube—(the Kala, or Ottoman City, in the background)
Akhlat: Isolated Tomb
Akhlat: The Kharab-Shehr, or Site of the Ancient City
The Nimrud Crater from the Promontory of Kizvag
Sipan: View from the Western Summit over the Summit Region
Hamidiyeh Cavalry at Gumgum
Armenian Village of Gundemir: Bingöl Cliffs in the background
The Bingöl Cliffs with the Head Waters of the Bingöl Su from the Village of Chaghelik
The so-called Crater of Bingöl from about the centre of the Moraine from Kara Kala
View from the Western Summit of Bingöl
Panorama from the Hill of Gugoghlan

ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT

Caravan on the Black Sea—Tabriz Trade Route
Karakilisa from South-West
Akantz
Ruins of Arjish from the North
Ruins of Arjish from the South
Our Boat on Lake Van
Scene on the Island of Ktutz
Doorway of the Church at Ktutz
Bronze Shield from Toprak Kala
Bronze Fragment from Toprak Kala (British Museum)
Ornament from Toprak Kala (British Museum)
House of an Armenian Merchant at Van
Interior of Haykavank from the East
The Rock and Walled City of Van
Street in the Walled City
The Crag of Ak Köpri
Monastery of Yedi Kilisa (Varag)
Interior of the Church at Yedi Kilisa
Van on the Road to Bitlis
Mountain Range along South Coast of Lake Van
Island of Akhtamar
Promontory of Surb (on the left the back of the Sheikh Ora Crater; in the distance Nimrud)

Bitlis: Fortified Monastery
Tunnel of Semiramis
Looking down Valley of Bitlis Chai
Nimrud Crater from the Volcanic Plateau
Armenian Village of Khaskeui, Mush Plain
Terrace of Lava resembling Human Fortifications
Looking down the Valley of the Upper Araxes from below Mejitli
Erzerum and its Plain from the South
Armenian Youths
Armenian Maidens
Five Generations of an Armenian Family
Range North of Ashkala
On the Banks of the Chorokh above Baiburt
Armenian Cemetery at Varzahan
Kurdish Dancing Boy at Gopal
Piece of Seljuk Pottery from Akhlat
Tombstone at Akhlat
The Lake in the Crater of Nimrud
Village of Uran Gazi with Sipan
Grave on the Summit of Khamur

To face page 211

230
236
239
247
252
269
285
290
292
298
334
357
359
360
369
373
373

[Contents]

PAGE

8
10
26
28
29
30
33
34
62
63
63
81
102
104
105
111
114
[xi]

115
116
119
130

140
155
156
157
161
165
189
192
207
215
216
221
229
232
234
254
285

291
302
332
340

LIST OF MAPS AND PLANS

Plan of Van
Bitlis and Environs
Plan of the Ancient Fortifications of Melazkert
Plan of Akhlat
Interior of the Nimrud Crater
Nimrud and Surroundings
Plan of the Summit Region of Sipan
The Bingöl Dagh on the North
The Bingöl Dagh on the South

CHAPTER I

DESCEND INTO TURKISH TERRITORY

October 24.—The track which we were following winds for some distance along the spine of the
range. You cross and cross again from the one to the other watershed, overlooking now the open
spaces of the southern landscape, now the narrow and encumbered cañon of the Araxes below the
adjacent cliffs of the tableland. The rocky parapets and gloomy valleys appear to extend from basin
to basin, at right angles to the axis of the chain. West of the crags about us, and isolated from them,
rose a shapely mass with black but snow-streaked sides. Darkness was falling when we descended
from this lofty position into one of the valleys of the southern slopes. In its recesses we came upon
a little Kurdish settlement, which seemed to promise shelter during the night.

Kurtler—Kurds! No sooner have we crossed the frontier than we find ourselves in their midst. The
mountains of Kurdistan are more than 100 miles distant; yet these parasites fasten upon the
countryside. Still their presence is appropriate and is not unwelcome, so long as they are confined
to alpine solitudes like those which surround the village of Chat. Tufts of grass, interspersed with an
endless crop of stones, were the only pasture which we had seen for some time. Yet the shepherds
were in possession of a considerable stock of hay, against the approach of a winter season which
can scarcely lack rigour at an elevation of 6700 feet above the sea. Their habitations just protrude
above the level of the ground; and, once within the doorway, you proceed through narrow
passages into the very bowels of the earth. In the darkness you stumble upon the forms of cattle or
wake a ragged child. We took up our quarters in one of the largest of the subterranean chambers,
lit our candles, and spread our carpet on the bare soil. We were surprised to discover that the roof
of the apartment was artificial—layers of mud and straw, held together by laths of wood, and
supported by huge beams. The walls, too, were built up of rough stones, plastered together; it was
evident that the room was only three-parts buried, and that it communicated directly with the outer
air. In fact we could see an aperture, the rude counterpart of a window, above the opening to the
winding passage through which we had come. On the side opposite this only entrance a square hole
in the face of the wall nourished a smouldering fire. The smoke wreathed upwards to a vent in the
roof, or was sucked inwards towards the tunnelled approach.

When morning broke we were glad to issue from the fetid atmosphere of this human burrow into
the pure mountain air. A few gaunt figures were standing upon the higher stages of the eminence
which had provided a suitable site for these underground operations, and which rose like a large
ant-hill from the waste of stone. Women squatted before the doors of the straggling tenements,
weaving the bright rugs for which their race is famed. We proceeded down the glen, along the
banks of a little stream. It finds an easy exit from the heart of the mountains, threading the trough of
one of the meridional valleys. After riding for an hour and a half, we opened out the southern
landscape from some high ground above the village of Amat (Fig. 108).

[xii]

[Contents]

To face page 81

147
271
296
305
312
336
366
378

[1]

[Contents]

[2]

Ala Dagh Murad (invisible) Passage of Murad Kilich Gedik

Fig. 108. Plain of Alashkert from the Slopes of Aghri Dagh.

FIG. 108. PLAIN OF ALASHKERT FROM THE SLOPES OF AGHRI DAGH.

The great plain of Alashkert was outspread before us, bounded on the further side by the snow-
capped mountains of the Ala Dagh, which stretched across the horizon from the east. Just before
us, this lofty range was seen to recede into the misty background, the outlines bending away
towards south-west. But the barrier was resumed at no considerable interval by a chain of hills, less
distant, although of humbler proportions, called Kilich Gedik, or the sharp sword. We could just
descry the site of Karakilisa, backed by the recess of the Ala Dagh. We knew that the Murad must
be flowing through that nebulous passage in the opposite bulwark of the plain. The surface of the
ground below us was level as water; the expanse was greatest in the west. In that direction the
spurs of the range upon which we stood plunged by a succession of promontories into the floor of
the plain. We were reminded of the valley of the Araxes in the neighbourhood of Erivan. Both
depressions have the appearance of inland seas at the foot of the mountains, the one on the
northern, the other on the southern side. But that of Alashkert is much more elevated (5500 feet),
and less sheltered; you miss the presence of those extensive stretches of orchard and verdure which
soften the landscape through which the Araxes flows. The eye wanders out over dim, ochreous
tracts, broken by patches of fallow, and seamed by white rivulets. Just below the Armenian
settlement we reached the margin of the level ground, and cantered along, almost on a compass
course. We saw several insignificant villages; but the district was wild, the soil for the most part
unreclaimed. Flocks of duck and geese took wing at our approach; cranes, with their long necks,
sailed across the sky. In the course of an hour and a half we reached the street of Karakilisa, a
distance from Amat, measured direct, of 9 miles.

A motley crowd collected round us as we enquired for the government quarters; a hundred curious
faces were upturned towards us, and our ears were greeted with the cry of Ferengi! Ferengi!
passed like a shuttlecock from mouth to mouth. The little town was full of stir; new shops and
houses were in course of erection; it was evident that trade and traffic were on the increase. We
had almost crossed it from end to end, when we were ushered into a modest building, of which the
hall or outer chamber was thronged with people, for the most part peasants; while an old servitor
or usher, with white beard and a flowing robe, was marshalling the rows of slippers by the
threshold of an inner door. At our approach he drew aside the quilted curtain which screened this
sanctuary, and turned the handle and bade us pass within. The low divan, which on three sides
followed the walls of the apartment, was already occupied by a full complement of seated figures;
they appeared to be engaged in deliberation when we broke in upon their séance. A little man with
vivacious eyes was directing the conversation; he sat on the only chair behind a table covered with
faded baize. Although we could scarcely doubt that our arrival had been announced beforehand,
we seemed to take these notables by surprise. The little man rose from his chair; the assembly
huddled together in order to give us place on the divan. Compliments were exchanged; coffee and
cigarettes were provided; the discussion was adjourned by tacit consent. One by one, after
satisfying without displaying their curiosity, the councillors stole from the room.

[3]

Fig. 109. Group of Kurd Hamidiyeh Cavalry.

FIG. 109. GROUP OF KURD HAMIDIYEH CAVALRY.

Meanwhile the figure at the table—it was the Kaimakam, or district governor—had examined our
numerous and weighty credentials, and had directed a billet to be provided and prepared. Our
effects, which arrived later, were not subjected to examination; no excisemen or policemen dogged
our steps. Such officials are almost unknown in this happy country! so we reflected with a sense of
immense relief. The way they worry the people in the neighbouring empire passes the capacity of
the uninitiated to realise. The Greek poet was certainly wrong when he gave expression to the
sentiment that anarchy is the greatest of human ills. Here we were, enlightened observers,
exchanging order for disorder with rapturous delight! We were free to wander as we willed, to
enjoy a British liberty without so much as the restraint of roads and walls. Coming from Russia, the
contrast was indeed startling; independence is far preferable to feeling reasonably certain that you
will not be knocked on the head by a Kurd.

The Kaimakam escorted us to the adjacent barracks, in which a whitewashed room had been
made ready to receive us. It belonged to the quarters of the superior officer—with the rank of
Miralai—a Turk of great stature and broad shoulders, to whom we were introduced. He wore a
dark blue military tunic of European pattern and material; but he had forgotten to fasten the lower
buttons of this imposing garment, as well as the upper ones of the trousers beneath. His mouth and
ears and nostrils were of unusual proportions; the expression of the face was kind, and denoted a
childlike, buoyant nature—de bonne bête humaine, as one might say. In him we found an
agreeable and a sensible companion. He bustled about the place, was accustomed to shave each
Friday; he settled every difficulty with eh, wallah! accompanied by a hearty laugh. From time to
time the troops were visited by the Liva, or commandant, an aged figure with a beard of snow. He
had been at Plevna, and had made the campaign of Bulgaria; but nothing remained of him now but
a worn-out body, made doubly infirm by an inveterate habit of getting drunk.

The peculiar care and constant plague of these high officials were the newly-enrolled regiments
which, under the name of Hamidiyeh, flatter the vanity but sap the throne of the reigning Sultan.
Am I guilty of indiscretion when I say that the prevailing opinion of them in official circles is one of
contempt, not unmixed with alarm? Your high-placed Turk will quote at their expense his favourite

[4]

[5]

proverb, the fish begins to stink from the head. The young men are the sons of their fathers, who
are Kurds and brigands; the example of the fathers is transmitted to the sons. Something might be
done, if the process were arrested—if the recruits were removed from their homes. When I
objected that the Tsar’s Cossacks presented in some respects a hopeful analogy, I would be met
by the reply that the Russian autocrat employed strong measures, the like of which the Turkish
Government was too mild to enforce.

Fig. 110. Group of Karapapakh Hamidiyeh Cavalry.

FIG. 110. GROUP OF KARAPAPAKH HAMIDIYEH CAVALRY.

Perhaps my reader is already aware that the Hamidiyeh are irregular cavalry, who owe their origin
to the endeavour of the Sultan Abdul Hamid to emulate the example which gave to Russia her
Cossack troops. They are recruited for the most part among the Kurdish tribes; the name of
yeomanry expresses the nature of their military service, but cannot be applied to the class to which
they belong. The force is still undergoing the initial process of organisation. At the time of our
journey it afforded the principal topic of conversation. Yuzbashis, or sergeants, of the regular army
were being poured into the country, and distributed among the villages, to instil into the shepherds
the rudiments of drill. Depots of arms were being established in convenient centres; and it was the
intention of the authorities to keep the weapons under lock and key, except when they should be
required for the annual trainings in spring. Hundreds and thousands of suits of uniform were arriving
in the principal towns, loaded on bullock carts. Each regiment had been allowed to exercise its own
fancy upon the choice of a distinctive garb. The result was an incongruous mixture of the braids and
gold lace of Europe with the Georgian finery of a serried row of silvered cartridge cases, banded
across the breast of a skirted coat. How proud they seemed, and how insensible of their ridiculous
appearance in our eyes—the long-beaked Kurds, the swarthy Karapapakhs, masquerading down
the street of Karakilisa in these strange creations of the tailors of Pera or Stambul! They did not
require pressing to consent to be photographed—a group of Kurds (Fig. 109), a group of
Karapapakhs (Fig. 110). Some of the principal officers of either regiment are represented in my
illustrations; and I would beg my reader to observe the seated Kurd in the Georgian dress—it is
Eyub Pasha with his son and nephew. Behind him stands his principal henchman, who, although a
Kurd, has seen service with regular troops.

[6]

In the caza, or administrative subdivision, of Karakilisa three regiments of Hamidiyeh have been
enrolled. Two are recruited from Kurds of the Zilanli tribe; the third from Karapapakhs. This
people—who take their name from their caps of black lambskin—are found on either side of the
Russo-Turkish frontier, and are no doubt related to the Tartars of Azerbaijan. The Kaimakam
informed me—but I question whether his statement, even if true, can apply to more than a small
number—that the fathers of those among them who inhabit this district were followers of the
famous Shamyl. According to his account they were at that time settled in Daghestan, whence they
removed to their present seats. He added that their villages were 8 in number in this caza; that their
regiment had a strength of 800 men; and that they had branded no less than 650 horses with the
military mark. Their chief, Ali Bey, is a man of hideous features, whom we recognised as the same
individual who had been seated in the place of honour, when we broke in upon the deliberations of
the Kaimakam. I now learnt the purport of their lively discussion; it had been a question of fixing a
price for grain. Months ago Ali Bey had made a contract with the Kaimakam to supply the cereal
for Government purposes at a stated price. The time had just arrived for delivering it into the
granaries; but the price had risen, almost to famine rates. In the drawer of the green baize table was
securely buried the precious document, behind a lock of which alone the Kaimakam possessed the
key. How great was the dismay of the wretched official to find that it had been abstracted, and to
recognise that the robbery might cost him his place! His despoiler felt quite safe behind his
Hamidiyeh uniform and his paper figures of 800 men-at-arms.

But the Kaimakam was not the man to go to sleep beneath an injury; he possessed both energy and
brains. He and the Miralai would each evening repair to our quarters, and discuss the events of the
day over coffee and pipes. On one occasion, in company with the Miralai, we had awaited to a late
hour the arrival of the Kaimakam. When at last he made his appearance, his clothes were covered
with dust and he was wearing his long top-boots. His eyes were bright with excitement as he
narrated in vivid language the story of his day’s work. Kurds from Lake Balük had made a foray
into his district, and had plundered the village of Mangasar, inhabited in equal numbers by
Armenians and Mussulmans. He had proceeded in person to the scene of their depredations, and
at the head of his motley followers had forced them to retire after a sanguinary fight. What was the
origin of this man whose animated face and supple character contrasted strangely with the wooden
figures of officers and notables who attended his divan? He told me he was an Albanian; he was, of
course, a Mohammedan; but his whole appearance stamped him a Greek. Compared with Kurds
like Eyub Pasha, with their resemblance to big birds, he stood on the opposite pole of human
development. Although in point of years the youngest of the group, he led them all by the nose. A
situation had scarcely been stated when he had already discovered the solution; he shared the
feelings as well as the thoughts of the individual to whom he was lending his ear. I have no doubt
that he was far the superior of Ali Bey in the successful practice of every kind of deceit. He
professed himself my friend; I am sure he took a pleasure in abusing the confidence which I was
obliged to affect. We had almost exhausted our stock of money when we arrived in Karakilisa;
between us and the town of Van, where we might hope to replenish it, lay the wildest districts of
Asiatic Turkey. Semi-civilised communications are entirely wanting in those regions; it was even
impossible to hire a caravan. It was necessary to purchase horses; three days were consumed in
finding the animals; having selected four, at an average price of £6 apiece, we were without funds
to defray our expenses in the town. The Kaimakam might no doubt have advanced the few pounds
in perfect safety; but he had cast longing eyes upon my gun. Alleging that he had already spent the
last instalment of his allowance, he insisted that the usurers, who would supply him with the money,
required that I should leave the weapon in his charge. It was arranged that, the moment the debt
had been recovered, he would despatch the valuable pledge to Erzerum. No sooner had we
reached Van than I contrived to send him the amount by way of Bayazid. Weeks later, upon my
arrival in the capital of his provincial government, the gun had not yet come to hand. The Vali, or
Governor-General, was recently dead; no successor had been appointed; the fact that I was an
Englishman was scarcely worth recalling to the petty authorities, daily witnesses of the feebleness of
the British Government, and full of contempt for the British Power. When my property was at last
restored to me through the good offices of Mr. Graves, the whole winter and part of the spring had
gone by. The Kaimakam had wreaked his revenge; the weapon came in broken pieces, and the
barrels bore the marks of heavy blows.

[7]

[8]

Fig. 111. Caravan on the Black Sea—Tabriz Trade Route.

FIG. 111. CARAVAN ON THE BLACK SEA—TABRIZ TRADE ROUTE.

I was unable to ascertain with any accuracy the number of the inhabitants, whether of the district or
of the town. The Kaimakam, although extremely communicative on other subjects, professed to
have been forbidden to make them known. According to the most recent official statistics, the caza
contains no less than 58 villages, and possesses a population of 5377 Mohammedans and 1902
Armenians. For the town in particular I have not had access to any information; but I should judge
that the residents might be put down at 1500 to 2000, of whom the Armenians would be nearly
two-thirds. With the exception of the shops, the houses are in general little better than the usual
village tenements, half buried beneath the ground. But Karakilisa is increasing in importance day by
day, being situated on the great avenue of communication between Persia and the Black Sea.
Strings of camels, with their finery of coloured tassels, were continually passing at a stone’s throw
from our door (Fig. 111). They were bearing the multitudinous wares of Europe for distribution
among the Eastern bazars. They proceed by way of Trebizond, Erzerum, and Bayazid to the city of
Tabriz. The place has also the advantage of being both a military and an administrative centre; there
is always something going on. The fashionable amusement of the day were the Hamidiyeh. A
luxurious coffee-house had just been built for their delectation; their name was on every tongue.

It was whispered in fear and terror by the poor Armenians. I visited their bishop, and found him in
a state of blank despair. He was afraid to receive me, and sent me excuses—which, however, I
refused to accept. After some parley with intermediaries he made his appearance—a stout figure, a
thick-lipped, common face. He refused to listen to the simple questions which I addressed to him,
and burst out into abuse. Europe, and especially England, had played the part of swindlers towards
his miserable race. Their hopes had been incited by delusive professions, which had only served to
alarm the Sultan and let loose the Kurds. Nor could they look to Russia, the arch-offender, fanning
the agitation for ends of her own. The poor man continued in this strain until he was nearly beside
himself; I was obliged to leave him to his rage. His diocese embraces the districts between Zeidikan
and Bayazid, and extends southwards to the borders of the vilayet, or Government, of Van. His
church at Karakilisa is little better than four stone walls. An ignorant priest imparts instruction in a
wretched little building which can scarcely be dignified by the name of school.

Fig. 112. The Kuseh Dagh from the Plain of Alashkert.

FIG. 112. THE KUSEH DAGH FROM THE PLAIN OF ALASHKERT.

One afternoon we made an excursion to the point where the Murad changes direction, and flows

[9]

through the gap towards the south. Between the barracks in which we were lodged, on the extreme
outskirts of Karakilisa, and the river, flowing placidly over the plain, there extends a considerable
tract of marshy ground and low covert, the home of plover and innumerable water-birds. We
crossed a stream which, coming from Aghri Dagh, passes just beneath the barracks to join the
Murad a little further west (Kör Su), and made across the marsh in the direction of a little Armenian
village which stands on the left bank of the principal body of water, almost due south of the town.
Just below this settlement, called Küp Keran, we forded the Murad, which was winding at the foot
of a gentle eminence of the southern border through a pebbly and many-channelled bed. Either
shore was quite a museum of living wildfowl; in especial we admired a beautiful species of golden
duck of which the wings were flaked with white bands. Avoiding the swamp on the opposite
margin, we followed this bank for some distance: and a little later crossed back to the northern
side. About a mile and a half below Küp Keran the river describes a beautiful curve, and enters the
spacious passage of the hills. It is pushed southwards by rising ground at the base of the Kilich
Gedik barrier; but the higher outlines of that range, as well as those of the snowy Ala Dagh in the
east, are several miles removed from its shores. It flows towards grassy hills, among which you lose
the silver thread which the eye has followed as far as a village, named Dombat. The breadth of the
Murad at the bend, where its errant waters had issued from the marsh, did not appear to us to
exceed thirty yards. The intense stillness of the scene was in harmony with the quiet sunset which
shed radiance over mountain, river, and plain. From the lofty bulwark of the northern chain, beyond
the lake-like surface of the steppe, rose the form of a single summit, overtowering its neighbours—
the shapely dome of the Kuseh Dagh (Fig. 112). The fantastic profile of the system was drawn
across the horizon in hues of opal to the far east. In that direction we could clearly see the
magnificent bastions of Ararat, mounting the sky behind these heights. The snowfields were flushed
with a delicate madder; we noticed that from this side they appear to gather to a single peak, the
eminence upon which we had stood. We remarked the convex modelling of the lower slopes of the
system along the opposite margin of the plain. A shorter way was shown us for the return to
Karakilisa (Fig. 113), which leaves the river and crosses the head of the marsh.

Fig. 113. Karakilisa from South-West.

FIG. 113. KARAKILISA FROM SOUTH-WEST.

CHAPTER II

TO LAKE VAN

The principal artery of traffic in Turkish Armenia crosses the land from west to east. It follows the
direction of a series of depressions: the plains of Erzerum, of Pasin and of Alashkert. It consists of a
carriageable track, or rough road of unequal quality. The bulk of the transit trade between Europe
and northern Persia is conveyed on the backs of camels along this route. The wall of protective
duties which has been reared by the Russian Government compels this commerce to flow through a
Turkish port and to adhere to Turkish soil. It has been stimulated by the efforts of a series of British
consuls, resident at Erzerum. Robberies have been punished with great severity; and, at the present
day, the traffic is seldom, if ever, interrupted, although it passes through the Kurd-inhabited districts
about Bayazid, and the lawless border of the Persian and Turkish empires.

South of this beaten avenue are situated regions which, in spite of the researches of individual
travellers, are still but imperfectly known. The lake of Van remains a centre of agriculture and
primitive industry; yet it lies beyond a zone of feebly governed country which, year by year, is
becoming more difficult to cross. The pest of Kurds has settled firmly upon these richly favoured

[10]

[11]

[Contents]

territories, destroying agriculture and banishing trade. What caravans there are travel in large
bodies, and every man is armed to the teeth. Between Erzerum and the town of Van they choose
between two routes according to the season of the year. In summer they cross the mountains
behind the northern capital, and proceed by the plain of Khinis, crossing the Murad at Melazkert.
During winter they make the round by way of Pasin and Alashkert, deviating on the confines of the
latter district, and passing the river at Tutakh. The approach through the town of Mush is used only
once a year, when the pilgrims journey from Erzerum to the cloister of Surb Karapet. On that
occasion the caravan, according to my informants, continues its course as far as Van. By the two
first routes it is usual to follow the eastern shore of the lake, which is reached near the little town of
Akantz.1

We set out from Karakilisa on October the 29th, mounted on our newly-purchased horses, and
accompanied by a zaptieh or gendarme. Our objective was this same Akantz; the principal
intermediate stations were Tutakh and Patnotz. I had thought it possible to accomplish the ride in
the course of two days; our friends laughed at the idea. I decided therefore to start in the afternoon,
with the hope of arriving on the evening of the third day. At a quarter-past three o’clock we were
making our way along the marsh to the point where the Murad leaves the plain. After reaching the
bend, we proceeded down the passage which receives the river, towards Dombat and the grassy
hills which I have already mentioned. On our left hand, at an interval of about 500 yards from the
left bank, rose the first gentle slopes of the Ala Dagh system; this high land was answered on the
right bank, at about a similar distance, by the outworks of the Kilich Gedik. The Murad pursues its
course between these two blocks of mountain, and, a little lower down, forces its way through the
narrowing gap. Near Dombat both banks are of considerable elevation, and the ridges appear to
cross the direction of the stream. Before arriving opposite the village we crossed the Sharian Su, a
tributary which collects the drainage of the western portion of the plain, and which appeared to us
to have a volume scarcely less than that of the principal branch.

After passing Dombat—which was said to be inhabited by Kizilbashes—we sank to a valley in
which is situated the Kurdish village of Zado, and ascended the ridge on its opposite side. From the
summit we commanded a prospect towards Karakilisa, and were impressed by the serpentine
course of the river, flowing towards us in a pebbly bed which it threaded by several channels. We
were placed at a height of some 250 feet above its waters. On a hillside further south we could
now discern our evening station, the little village of Avdi. It was signalised by a green patch, due to
vegetable gardens; its surroundings were bleak and bare. Arriving at half-past five, we selected the
best of the fifteen tenements as quarters for the night. We were surprised to find a sergeant of the
regular army established in this miserable place. He had come to recruit Kurds for the Hamidiyeh,
and bitterly cursed his fate.

Next morning we were anxious to reach Tutakh before mid-day in order to pass the night at
Patnotz. At a quarter to eight we were in the saddle; it had rained during the night, and heavy
clouds hung over the hills. As we rose up the slope, we caught glimpses of the mountains which
bound the plain of Alashkert upon the north. The plain itself had long been lost; we were at some
distance from the river; we looked across high hills, which engulfed the invisible waters, to the
summits of the Ala Dagh. The doubtful track commenced to wind between grassy slopes, strewn
with boulders—a belt of country well adapted to guerilla warfare, and reputed the favourite haunt
of Kurdish robbers. Horsemen would no doubt be completely at their mercy in the blind recesses
of these irregular valleys. At a quarter to nine we approached the Murad, still high above it; the hills
rose from either bank. In another half hour we obtained our first view of the cone of Sipan, a
gleaming object in the south. Some two miles further the landscape opened, and assumed the
character of a vast steppe of broken and uneven ground. Distant ranges encircled the expanse with
dim outlines; Sipan alone was clearly defined against the sky. From the Kurdish village of Köshk
we obtained a fine view over this country, with its waving surface featured by shadows from the
clouds. We had got behind the barrier of the Kilich Gedik; and the whole segment of the circle
from north-west to south-west was filled by comparatively level land. We observed a prominent
shape in the mountains of the furthest distance, which we identified with the Khamur Dagh. Beyond
the Mussulman village of Okhan, the river, which had left us, took a sharp bend, and joined our
course. We made our way along it at a rapid trot and reached Tutakh a little after eleven o’clock.

The little township does not possess more than about a hundred houses; yet it is the seat of a
Kaimakam whose administrative area includes Patnotz, and meets the boundary of the vilayet of
Van. It stands on rising ground, at some little distance from the bank of the river, facing the lofty
hills which rise on the opposite shore, and push the Murad towards the west. It is about equidistant
from Karakilisa and from Patnotz, a ride of some twenty-three miles from the first, and of twenty-
eight miles from the second. The inhabitants are for the greater part Karapapakhs, imported into
the district after the last Russo-Turkish war. They can now boast of some 400 houses in the caza,
or a population of about 3000 souls. Agriculturists by profession, and by temperament robbers,
they appear to be in an extremely prosperous state. Their aged chief conversed with me, and
imparted several particulars which I had not known before. He told me that they had emigrated
from the province of Chaldir, being dissatisfied with the Russian Government, who had not treated

[12]

[13]

[14]