So at last I was really to go to Persia. About that there could
be no question. For I had long determined to go if I got the
chance; and now, not only had the opportunity come, but, in
view of the probability that the University would soon require
a resident teacher of Persian, I was urged by my friends at
Cambridge to spend the first year of my fellowship in the way which
would best qualify me for this post. Yet, as the time for my
departure approached, a strange shrinking from this journey
which I had so much desired--a shrinking to which I look back
with shame and wonder, and for which I can in no wise account
--took possession of me. It arose partly, I suppose, from the
sudden reaction which unexpected good fortune will at times
produce; partly, if not from ill health, at least from that lowering
of the vitality which results from hard work and lack of exercise
and fresh air; partly also from the worry inseparable from the
preparations for a long journey into regions little known. But,
whatever its cause, it did much to mar my happiness at a time
when I had no excuse for being otherwise than happy. At
length, however, it came to an end. Bewildered by conflicting
We had booked our passage, as I have said, to Batoum, intending
to take the train thence to Baku, and so by the Caspian to
Resht in Persia. For this route, unquestionably the shortest
and easiest, I had from the first felt little liking, my own wish
being to enter Persia through Turkey, either by way of Damascus
and Baghdad, or of Trebizonde and Erzeroum. I had suffered
myself to be persuaded against my inclinations, which, I think,
where no question of principle is involved, is always a mistake,
for the longer and harder way of one's own choosing is preferable
to the shorter and easier way chosen by another. And so, as
soon as I was withdrawn from the influences which had temporarily
overcome my own judgment and inclination, I began to repent of
having adopted an uncongenial plan, and to consider whether
even now, at this eleventh hour, it was not possible to change.
The sight of the Turkish shore and the sound of the Turkish tongue
(for we stayed two days at Constantinople, whence to Trebizonde
the deck of the steamer was crowded with Turks and Persians,
There was a heavy swell in the open roadstead, and the wind,
which rolled back the rain-clouds on the green, thickly-wooded
hills, seemed to be rising, as we clambered into one of the clumsy
boats which hovered round the steamer to go ashore. Nor had
the gruff old captain's answer to my enquiry as to how long the
steamer would lie there tended to reassure me. "If the wind gets
up much more," he had said, "I may start at any time." "And
if we are on shore," I demanded, "how shall we know that you
are starting?" "Vous me verrez partir, voila tout," he replied,
and, with a shrug of his shoulders, walked off to his cabin. So
I was somewhat uneasy in my mind lest, while we were conducting
our enquiries on shore, the steamer might put out to sea,
bearing with it all our worldly goods. This disquieting reflection
was dispelled by the shock of the boat striking against the little
wooden jetty. We stepped out, and found ourselves confronted
by one of the Turkish police, who demanded our passports.
These had not been presented, as theoretically they should have
been, at Constantinople for a fresh visa, and I feared we might
consequently have some trouble in landing. However, I assumed
an air of confident alacrity, produced the passports, and pointed
to the seal of the Turkish Consulate given in London. As the
visa--"bon pour se rendre a Constantinople"--to which this was
attached was in French, the officer was not much the wiser, and,
after scrutinising the passports (which he held upside down) with
a critical air, he returned them and stood aside to let us pass.
Guided by a boy belonging to our boat, we ascended through narrow, tortuous streets to the British Consulate, where, though unprovided with recommendations, we received from the Consul, Mr Longworth, that courteous and kindly welcome which, to their honour be it said, Englishmen (and, indeed, other Europeans, as well as Americans) resident in the Turkish and Persian dominions seldom fail to give the traveller. In reply to our enquiries, he told us that the road to the Persian frontier was perfectly safe, and that we should have no difficulty in hiring horses or mules to convey us to Erzeroum, whence we could easily engage others for the journey to Tabriz. He also kindly offered to send his dragoman, an Armenian gentleman, named Hekimian, to assist us in clearing our baggage at the custom- house. So we returned to the steamer to bring it ashore. As we pushed our way through the deck-passengers to the side of the ship, some of my Persian acquaintances called out to me to tell them why I was disembarking and whither I was going, and, on learning my intention of taking the old caravan-road through Erzeroum, they cried, "O dear soul, it will take you three months to get to Teheran thus, if indeed you get there at all! Why have you thus made your road difficult?" But the step was taken now, and I paid no heed to their words.
The custom-house, thanks to the aegis of the British Consulate,
dealt very gently with us. We were even asked, if I remember
right, which of our packages we should prefer to have
opened. H---'s Wolseley valise was selected; but we forgot
that his rifle had been rolled up in it. The Turkish excisemen
stroked their chins a little at this sight (for fire-arms are
contraband), but said nothing. When this form of examination was over
we thanked the mudir, or superintendent, for his courtesy, gave
a few small coins to his subordinates, and, with the help of two
Next morning our preparations began in earnest. Hekimian was of inestimable service, arranging everything and accompanying us everywhere. The Russian paper-money with which we had provided ourselves for the earlier part of the journey was soon converted into Turkish gold; tinned provisions and a few simple cooking utensils and other necessaries were bought in the bazaars; and arrangements were concluded with two sturdy muleteers for the journey to Erzeroum. They on their part agreed to provide us with five horses for ourselves and our baggage, to convey us to Erzeroum in six or seven days, and to do what lay in their power to render the journey pleasant; while we on our part covenanted to pay them 6 1/4 Turkish pounds (3 pounds down, and the remainder at Erzeroum), to which we promised to add a trifle if they gave us satisfaction.
There remained a more important matter, the choice of a
servant to accompany us on the journey. Two candidates presented
themselves: an honest-looking old Turkish Kavvas of the
Consulate, and a shifty Armenian, who, on the strength of his
alleged skill in cookery, demanded exorbitantly high wages.
We chose the Turk, agreeing to pay him one Turkish pound a
week, to guarantee this payment for six months, and to defray
his expenses back to Trebizonde from any point at which we
might finally leave him. It was a rash agreement, and might
have caused us more trouble than it actually did, but there
seemed to be no better alternative, seeing that a servant was an
absolute necessity. The old Turk's real name was 'Omar; but
having regard to the detestation in which this name is held in
Persia (for he whom Sunnite Muhammadans account the second
Caliph, or successor of the Prophet, is regarded by the sect of
This business concluded, we had still to get our passports for the interior. Hekimian accompanied us to the Government offices, where, while a courteous old Turk entertained me with coffee and conversation, a shrewd-looking subordinate noted down the details of our personal appearance in the spaces reserved for that purpose on the passport. I was amused on receiving the document to find my religion described as "English" and my moustache as "fresh" (ter), but not altogether pleased at the entries in the "head" and "chin" columns, which respectively were "top" (bullet-shaped) and "deyirmen" (round). Before leaving the Government-house we paid our respects to Sururi Efendi, the governor of Trebizonde, one of the judges who tried and condemned the wise and patriotic Midhat Pasha. He was a fine-looking old man, and withal courteous; but he is reputed to be corrupt and bigoted.
In the evening at the hotel we made the acquaintance of a
Belgian mining-engineer, who had lived for some time in Persia.
The account which he gave of that country and its inhabitants
* The repetition of the following curse on the three first Caliphs of the
Sunnis is accounted by Persian Shi'ites as a pious exercise of singular virtue:
"O God, curse 'Omar: then Abu Bekr and 'Omar: then 'Othman and 'Omar:
then 'Omar: then 'Omar!"
Although we were ready to start on the following day, we
were prevented from doing so by a steady downpour of rain.
Having completed all our arrangements, we paid a visit to the
Persian Consulate in company with Mr Longworth. In answer
to our enquiry as to whether our passports required his visa,
the Persian Consul signified that this was essential, and, for
the sum of one mejidiyye apiece, endorsed each of them with a
lengthy inscription so tastefully executed that it seemed a pity
that, during the whole period of our sojourn in Persia, no one
asked to see them. Though perfectly useless and unnecessary, the
visa, as a specimen of calligraphy, was cheap at the price.
Next day (Friday, 7th October) the rain had ceased, and at
an early hour we were plunged in the confusion without which,
as it would seem, not even the smallest caravan can start. The
muleteers, who had been urging us to hasten our preparations.
disappeared so soon as everything was ready. When they had
been found and brought back, it was discovered that no bridle
had been provided for H---'s horse; for, though both of us had
* Apart from the doubtful justice of judging a people by the idioms
of their language, it may be pointed out that, with regard to the two
last expressions, they are based on the idea that to swear by one's own
life or death would be to swear by a thing of little value compared to
the life or death of a friend.
It was quite dark before we reached Khamse-Kyuy, and it took us some little time to find a khan at which to rest for the night. The muleteers and baggage were far behind, and at first it seemed probable that we should have to postpone our supper till their arrival, or else do without it altogether. However, 'Ali presently succeeded in obtaining some bread, and also a few eggs, which he fried in oil, so that, with the whisky in our flasks,, we fared better than might have been expected.
At about 9 p.m. the muleteers arrived and demanded to see
me at once. They were very tired, and very angry because we
Looking back at those first days of my journey in the light of
fuller experience, I marvel at the discomforts which we readily
endured, and even courted by our ignorance and lack of foresight.
Bewildered by conflicting counsels as to equipment, I had
finally resolved to take only what appeared absolutely essential,
and to reduce our baggage to the smallest possible compass.
Prepared by what I had read in books of Eastem travel to endure
discomforts far exceeding any which I was actually called upon
to experience, I had yet to learn how comfortably one may travel
On the following morning we were up betimes, and after a
steep ascent of an hour or so reached the summit of the pass of
Zighana-dagh, which was thinly covered with a dazzling garment
of snow. Here we passed a little khan, which would have been
our second resting-place had we halted at Jevizlik on the
preceding day instead of pushing on to Khamse-Kyuy. As it was,
however, we passed it without stopping, and commenced the
descent to the village of Zighana-Kyuy, where we halted for
an hour to rest and refresh ourselves and the horses. Excellent
fruit and coffee were obtainable here; and as we had yielded to
the muleteers' request that we should not separate ourselves
from the baggage, we had our own provisions as well, and
altogether fared much better than on the previous day.
After the completion of our meal we proceeded on our journey,
and towards evening reached the pretty little hamlet of Kyupribashi
situated on a river called, from the town of Ardessa through
which it flows, Ardessa-irmaghi, in which we enjoyed the luxury
of a bathe. The inhabitants of this delightful spot were few in
number, peaceable in appearance, and totally devoid of that
inquisitiveness about strangers which is so characteristic of the
Persians. Although it can hardly be the case that many Europeans
pass through their village, they scarcely looked at us, and asked
but few questions as to our business, nationality, or destination.
This lack of curiosity, which, so far as my experience goes,
Our third day's march took us first through the town of
Ardessa, and then through the village of Demirji-suyu, on
emerging from which we were confronted and stopped by two
most evil-looking individuals armed to the teeth with pistols
and daggers. My first idea was that they were robbers; but, on
riding forward to ascertain their business, I discovered that they
were excisemen of a kind called dightaban, whose business it is
to watch for and seize tobacco which does not bear the stamp
of the Ottoman Regie. It appeared that some one, either from
malice or a misdirected sense of humour, had laid information
against us, alleging that we had in our possession a quantity of
such tobacco. A violent altercation took place between the
excisemen and our servant 'Ali, whose pockets they insisted on
searching, and whose tobacco-pouch was torn in two in the
struggle. Meanwhile the muleteers continued to manifest the
most ostentatious eagerness to unload our baggage and submit
it to examination, until finally, by protestations and remonstrances,
we prevailed on the custom-house officers to let us pass.
The cause of the muleteers' unnecessary eagerness to open our
baggage now became apparent. Sidling up to my horse, one of
these honest fellows triumphantly showed me a great bag of
smuggled tobacco which he had secreted in his pocket. I asked
him what he would have done if it had been detected, whereat
he tapped the stock of a pistol which was thrust into his belt
Continuing on our way, and still keeping near the river, we passed one or two old castles, situated on rocky heights, which, we were informed, had been built by the Genoese. Towards noon we entered the valley of Gyumish-Khane, so-called from the silver mines which occur in the neighbourhood. This valley is walled in by steep and rocky cliffs, and is barren and arid, except near the river, which is surrounded by beautiful orchards. Indeed the pears and apples of Gyumish-Khane are celebrated throughout the district. We passed several prosperous-looking villages, at one of which we halted for lunch. Here for the first time I tasted petmez, a kind of treacle or syrup made from fruit. In Persia this is known as dushab or shire; it is not unpalatable, and we used occasionally to eat it with boiled rice as a substitute for pudding. Here also we fell in with a respectable-looking Armenian going on foot to Erzeroum. Anyone worse equipped for a journey of 150 miles on foot I never saw. He wore a black frock-coat and a fez; his feet were shod with slippers down at the heels; and to protect himself from the heat of the sun he carried a large white umbrella. He looked so hot and tired and dusty that I was moved to compassion, and asked him whether he would not like to ride my horse for a while. This offer he gladly accepted, whereupon I dismounted and walked for a few miles, until he announced that he was sufficiently rested and would proceed on foot. He was so grateful for this indulgence that he bore us company as far as Erzeroum, and would readily have followed us farther had we encouraged him to do so. Every day H--- and myself allowed him to ride for some distance on our horses, and the poor man's journey was, I trust, thereby rendered less fatiguing to him.
During the latter part of the day our course lay through a
most gloomy and desolate valley, walled in with red rocks and
Our fourth day's march was very dreary, lying for the most part through gloomy ravines walled in with reddish rocks, like that which we had traversed at the end of the previous day's journey. In addition to the depressing character of the sccne, there was a report that robbers were lurking in the neighbourhood, and we were consequently joined by several pedestrians, all armed to the teeth, who sought safety in numbers. Shortly after noon we halted at a small roadside inn, where we obtained some cheese, and a not very savoury compound called kawurma which consists of small square lumps of mutton imbedded in fat. At 3 p.m. we reached the solitary khan of Kadarak, which was to be our halting-place for the night. A few zabtiyyes were lounging about outside, waiting for the post, which was expected to pass shortly. As it was still early, I went out into the balcony to write my diary and contemplate the somewhat cheerless view-- but I was soon interrupted by our Armenian fellow-traveller who came to tell me that the zabtiyyes outside were watching my proceedings with no favourable eye, and suspected that I was drawing maps of the country. He therefore advised me either to stop writing or to retire indoors, lest my diary should be seized and destroyed. Whether the Armenian spoke the truth, or whether he was merely indulging that propensity to revile the ruling race for which the Christian subjects of the Porte are conspicuous, I had no means of deciding, so I thought it best to follow his advice and retire from the balcony till I had completed my writing.
Our fifth day's march led us through the interesting old
Our sixth day's march commenced soon after daybreak. The early morning was chilly, but later on the sun shone forth in a cloudless sky, and the day grew hot. The first part of our way lay near the river which flows through Baiburt, and the scenery was a great improvement on anything that we had seen since leaving Gyumish-Khane. We halted for our midday rest and refreshment by a clump of willow trees in a pleasant grassy meadow by the river. On resuming our march we entered a narrow dehle leading into the mountains of Kopdfigh. A gradual ascent brought us to the summit of the pass, just below which, on the farther side, we came to our halting-place, Pasha-punari. The view of the surrounding mountains standing out against the clear evening sky was very beautiful, and the little khan at which we alighted was worthy of its delightful situation. We were lodged in a sort of barn, in which was stored a quantlty of hay. How fragrant and soft it seemed! I still think of that night's sleep as one of the soundest and sweetest in my experience.
Early on the morning of the seventh day we resumed our
march along a circuitous road, which, after winding downwards
amongst grassy hills, followed the course of a river surrounded
by stunted trees. We saw numerous large birds of the falcon
kind, called by the Turks doghan. One of these H brought
down with his rifle while it was hovering in the air, to the great
delight of the muleteers. At a village called Ash-Kal'a we
purchased honey, bread, and grapes, which we consumed while
halting for the midday rest by an old bridge. Continuing on our
way by the river, we were presently joined by a turbaned and
genial Turk, who was travelling on horseback from Gyumish-
Khane to Erzeroum. I was pleased to hear him use in the course
of conversation certain words which I had hitherto only met
with in the writings of the old poet Fuzuli of Baghdad, and
which I had regarded as archaic and obsolete. The road gradually
became more frequented than it had been since leaving Baiburt,
and we passed numerous travellers and peasants. Many of the
The eighth day of our march, which was to conclude the first portion of our journey, saw us in the saddle betimes. after riding or four hours through a scorched-up plain, we arrived about 10.30 a.m. at the large village of Ilija, so named from its hot springs, over which a bath has been erected. From this point the gardens and minarets of Erzeroum were plainly visible, and accordingly we pushed on without halting. Fully three hours elapsed, however, ere we had traversed the weary stretch of white dusty road which still separated us from our goal; and the sun was well past the meridian when we finally entered the gate of the city, and threaded our way through the massive fortifications by which it is surrounded.
Erzeroum has one hotel, which stands midway in the scale of
development between the Hotel d'Italie at Trebizonde and an
average caravansaray. Were these two towns connected by a
railroad, so as to bring them within a day's journey of one
another, this institution might perhaps form a happy transition
between the West and the East. As things are at present, it is
too much like a caravansaray to be comfortable, and too much
like a casino to be quiet.
On alighting at this delectable house of entertainment, we
were met by a young Armenian representing the bank on which
our cheque was drawn, who informed us in very fair French
that his name was Missak Vanetzian, and that his principal, Simon
Dermounukian, had been apprised of our coming by letter from
Trebizonde, and instructed to give us such help as we might need
After a brief conversation in the balcony of a coffee-room
thronged with Turkish officers and enlivened by the strains of
a semi-Oriental band, he departed, inviting us to visit his chief
so soon as we were at leisure.
We now requested an attendant to show us our room, and were forthwith conducted to a large, dingy, uncarpeted apartment on the first floor, lighted by several windows looking out upon the street, and containing for its sole furniture a divan covered with faded chintz, which ran the whole length of one side, and a washing-stand placed in a curtained recess on the other. It was already occupied by a Turkish mudir, bound for the frontier fortress of Bayezid, whom the landlord was trying to dislodge so that we might take possession. This he very naturally resented; but when I apologised, and offered to withdraw, he was at once mollified, declared that there was plenty of room for all of us, and politely retired, leaving us to perform our ablutions in private.
Just as we were ready to go out, an officer of the Turkish
police called to inspect our passports, so, while H--- went to
visit Mr Devey, the acting British Consul, I remained to entertain
the visitor with coffee and cigarettes--an attention which
he seemed to appreciate, for he readily gave the required visa,
and then sat conversing with me till H--- returned from the consulate.
We next paid a visit to our banker, Simon Dermounukian, called
by the Turks "Simun Agha," a fine-looking old man, who only spoke
Turkish and Armenian, and whose appearance would have led one to
suppose that the former rather than the latter was his native
tongue. After the ordinary interchange of civilities, we drew
a cheque for three or four pounds, and returned to the hotel to
settle with the muleteers. On the way to Erzeroum these had
frequently expressed a wish to go with us as far as Teheran;
but since their arrival they had been so alarmed by fabulous
accounts of the dangers of travelling in Persia, the inhospitality
of the country, and the malignant disposition of the people,
that they made no further allusion to this plan, and on receiving
the money due to them, together with a small gratuity, took leave
of us with expressions of gratitude and esteem.
Next day our troubles began. The news that two Englishmen
were about to start for Persia had got abroad, and crowds of
muleteers--Persians, Turks, and Armenians--came to offer their
services for the journey. The scene of turmoil which our room
presented during the whole morning baffles description, while
our ears were deafened with the clamour of voices. It was like
the noisiest bazaar imaginable, with this difference, that whereas
one can escape from the din of a bazaar when it becomes
insupportable, this turmoil followed us wherever we went. An
Armenian called Vartan demanded the exorbitant sum of 5 pounds T.
per horse to Tabriz. A Persian offered to convey us thither in
a mighty waggon which he possessed, wherein, he declared, we
should perform the journey with inconceivable ease. This statement,
which I was from the first but little disposed to credit was
subsequently denied in the most categorical manner by our
friend the mudir, who assured me that he had once essayed to
travel in such a vehicle, but had been so roughly jolted during
the first stage that he had sworn never again to set foot in it
and had completed his journey on horseback. Any lingering
regrets which we might have entertained at having renounced
the prospect of "inconceivable ease" held out to us by the
owner of the waggon were entirely dispelled some days later
by the sight of a similar vehicle hopelessly stuck, and abandoned
At length, partly because no better offer seemed forthcoming, partly from a desire to have done with the matter and enjoy a little peace and quietude for the remainder of our stay in Erzeroum, we accepted the terms proposed by a Persian muleteer called Farach, who promised to supply us with five horses to Tabriz at 2 pounds T. and 2 mejidiyyes a head; to convey us thither in twelve days; and to allow us the right of stopping for two days on the road at whatever place we might choose.
I now flattered myself that I should be allowed a little peace, but I found that I had reckoned without my host. No sooner had I satisfied myself as to the efficiency of Farach's animals, agreed to the terms proposed by him, and accepted the peh (a pledge of money, which it is customary for the muleteer to place in the hands of his client as a guarantee that he will hold to the bargain, and be prepared to start on the appointed day), than our ears were assailed on all sides with aspersions on the honesty and respectability of the successful candidate. Farach, so I was assured, was a native of the village of Seyvan, near Khuy, and the Seyvanlis were, as was well known, the wickedest, most faithless, and most dishonest people in Persia. In this assertion all the muleteers present agreed, the only difference being that while the Persians rested content with the reprobation of the Seyvanlis, the non-Persians further emphasised it by adding that the Persians were the wickedest, most faithless, and most dishonest people in the world.
At first I paid no attention to these statements, but my
suspicions were in some degree aroused by Farach's disinclination
to go before the Persian Consul, and by the doubts expressed
by Vanetzian and Simun Agha as to his honesty and trustworthiness.
With Vanetzian I was somewhat annoyed, because he, being present
when I engaged Farach, had withheld his advice till it was too
late to be useful. I therefore told him that he should
Finally Vanetzian desisted from his attempts to annul the contract, and indeed retracted to some extent the objections which he had raised against it. What motive impelled him to this change of front I cannot say, and I am unwilling to credit an assertion made to me by Farach a few days later, to the effect that the Armenian's sole object in these manoeuvers was to extort a bribe from the poor muleteer, and that having obtained this he was content to withdraw all opposition.
Although these annoyances, combined with a temporary indisposition (due, probably, to the badness of the water-supply) somewhat marred the pleasure of our stay in Erzeroum, the kindness shown us by Mr Devey, the British Consul, and Mr Chambers, an American missionary, and his wife, rendered it much more agreeable than it would otherwise have been. Before leaving we paid a visit to the Persian Consul, who received us very courteously, and gave us a letter to Pasha Khan of Avajik the Persian Warden of the Marches, from whom, he added, we should receive an escort to conduct us to Khuy, should this be necessary. Beyond Khuy the country was perfectly safe, and no such protection would be required.
The consul next enquired whether we were travelling with
our own horses or with hired animals, and, on learning that the
latter was the case, insisted on summoning the muleteer to
admonish " him. Knowing that Farach was unwilling to appear
before the consul, I ventured to deprecate this proceeding, and
made as though I had forgotten the muleteer's name. The consul
however, insisted, and at once despatched some of his servants
to make enquiries. These returned in a surprisingly short space
of time, bringing with them the muleteer, whose appearance
On Monday, 17th October, we quitted Erzeroum. In consequence
of the difficulty of getting fairly under way, to which I have
already alluded, it is usual to make the first stage a very
short one. Indeed, it is often merely what the Persians call
"Nakl-i-makan" (change of place), a breaking up of one's
quarters, a bidding farewell to one's friends, and a shaking one's
self free from the innumerable delays which continue to arise
so long as one is still within the walls of an Eastern town. We
therefore did not expect to get farther than Hasan-Kal'a, which
is about three hours' ride from Erzeroum. Before we had
finished our leave-taking and settled the hotel bill (which only
reached the modest sum of 108 piastres--about 1 pound sterling--
for the two of us and 'Ali for three days) the rest of the caravan
had disappeared, and it was only on emerging from the town that
I was able to take note of those who composed it. There were,
besides the muleteers, our friend the mudir and his companions
and servants, who were bound for Bayezid; a Turkish zabtiyye,
who was to escort us as far as Hasan-Kal'a; and three Persians
proceeding to Tabriz. Of these last, one was a decrepit old man;
As we advanced towards the low pass of Deve-boyun (the Camel's Neck), over which our road lay, I was much impressed with the mighty redoubts which crown the heights to the northeast and east of Erzeroum, many of which have, I believe, been erected since the Russian war. Beyond these, and such instruction and amusement as I could derive from our travelling companions, there was little to break the monotony of the road till we arrived at our halting-place about 3 p.m. As the khan was full, we were obliged to be content with quarters even less luxurious; and even there the mudir, with prudent forethought, secured the best room for himself and his companions.
Hasan-Kal'a is, like Ilija, which is about equidistant from
Erzeroum on the other side, remarkable for its natural hot
springs, over which a bath has been erected. The mudir was
anxious to visit these springs, and invited us to accompany
him. To this I agreed, but H -, not feeling well, preferred to
remain quiet. The bath consists of a circular basin, twenty-five
or thirty feet in diameter, surrounded with masonry and roofed
in by a dome. In the summit of the dome was a large aperture
through which we could see the stars shining. The water, which
is almost as hot as one can bear with comfort, bubbles up from
the centre of the basin, and is everywhere out of one's depth
After a most refreshing bathe, we returned to our quarters.
Next day we started about 6 a.m., and were presently joined by a Turkish mufti proceeding to Bayezid, with whom I conversed for some time in Persian, which he spoke very incorrectly and with great effort. He was, however, an amusing companion, and his conversation beguiled the time pleasantly enough till we halted about midday at a large squalid Armenian village called Kumasur. Our Turkish fellow-travellers occupied the musafiroda, or guest-room, and intimated to us that they wished to be left undisturbed for their midday devotions, so we were compelled to be content with a stable. As the rest of the caravan had not yet come up, we had nothing for lunch but a few biscuits and a little brandy and water, which we fortunately had with us. Several of the Armenian villagers came to see us. They were apathetic and dull, presenting a sad contrast to the Armenians of the towns. They talked much of their grievances, especially of the rapacity of the multezim, or tax-gatherer, of the district, who had, as they declared, mortally wounded one of the villagers a few days previously, because he had brought eight piastres short of the sum due from him. They said that the heaviest tax was on cereals, amounting to I in 8 of their total value, and that for the privilege of collecting this the tax-gatherer paid a certain fixed sum to the Government and made what profit he could.
Quitting this unhappy spot as soon as the rest of our caravan
appeared, we again joined the mudir's party, which had been
further reinforced by a chawush (sergeant) and two zabtiyyes, one
of whom kept breaking out into snatches of song in the shrillest
voice I ever heard. For some time we succeeded in keeping up
with these, who were advancing at a pace impossible for the
baggage animals, but presently our horses began to flag, and we
were finally left behind, in some doubt as to the road which we
should follow. Shortly after this, my horse, in going down a hill
to a river, fell violently and threw me on my face. I picked
myself up and remounted, but having proceeded some distance,
Here we obtained lodgings in a large stable, at one side of which was a wooden platform, raised some two feet above the ground and covered with a felt carpet. On this our host spread cushions and pillows, but the hopes of a comfortable night's rest which these preparations raised in our minds were not destined to be fulfilled, for the stable was full of fowls, and the fowls swarmed with fleas. There were also several buffaloes in the stable, and these apparently were endowed with carnivorous instincts, for during the night they ate up some cold meat which was to have served us for breakfast. At this place I tasted buffalo's milk for the first time. It is very rich, but has a peculiar flavour, which is, to my mind, very disagreeable
On starting the next day, we found that the mudir, who had
obtained quarters elsewhere in the village, had already set out;
neither did we again overtake him. Soon after leaving our
halting-place we entered a magnificent defile leading into the
mountains and surrounded by precipitous crags. On the summit
of one of these crags which lay to our left was a mined castle
said to have been formerly a stronghold of the celebrated bandit-
minstrel, Kurroghlu. The face of the rock showed numerous
cave-like apertures, apparently enlarged, if not made, by the
About noon we reached a Kurdish village, situated amidst grassy uplands at the summit of the pass, and here we halted for a rest. Most of the male inhabitants were out on the hills looking after their flocks, but the women gathered round us staring, laughing, and chattering Kurdish. Some few of them knew a little Turkish, and asked us if we had any munjas to give them. This word, which I did not understand, appeared to denote some kind of ornament.
On quitting this village our way led us through fertile uplands covered thinly with low shrubs, on which hundreds of draught camels were feeding. The bales of merchandise, unladen from their backs, were piled up in hollow squares, in and around which the Persian camel-drivers were resting till such time as the setting of the sun (for camels rarely travel by day) should give the signal for departure.
A little farther on we passed one of the battlefields of the
Russian war, and were shown an earthwork close to the road,
where we were told that Farik Pasha had been killed. Soon after
this, on rounding a corner, the mighty snow-crowned cone of
Mount Ararat burst upon our view across a wide hill-girt plain,
into which we now began to descend. During this descent we
came upon a party of Kurdish mountebanks, surrounded by a
crowd of peasants. In the midst of the group a little girl, in a
bright red dress, was performing a dance on stilts, to the sound
of wild music, produced by a drum and a flute. It was a pretty
sight, and one which I would fain have watched for a time; but
the muleteers were anxious to reach the end of our day's journey,
and indeed it was already dusk when we arrived at the village
of Zeyti-Kyan. The inhabitants of this place were, as we entered
it, engaged in a violent altercation, the cause of which I did not
ascertain; while a few Turkish zabtiyyes were making strenuous
efforts to disperse them, in which they eventually succeeded. It
Next day's march was both short and uninteresting. At 2 p.m. we reached the large squalid village of Kara Kilisa. As the day was still young, and the place far from attractive, we were anxious to proceed farther, but this the muleteers declined to do, answering, after the manner of their class, that they had agreed to take us to Tabriz in twelve days from Erzeroum, and that this they would do; but that for the rest we must allow them to arrange the stages as they thought fit. Farach concluded the argument by making me a propitiatory gift of a melon, which he had just received from a fellow-countryman whom he had met on the road; and, half amused, half annoyed, I was obliged to acquiesce in his arrangement.
We obtained wretched quarters in the house of a very ill-favoured and inquisitive Armenian, and, after allaying our ill-humour with tea, strolled through the village to see the yuz-bashi or captain of the police, about securing a zabtiyye as an escort for the morrow. From him we learned that our friend the mudir had not forgotten us, for on his way through the village that morning he had left instructions that we were to be provided with a zabtiyye, should we require one. The dustiness of the streets, combined with the inquisitiveness of the inhabitants, soon drove us back to our lodging, where a night disturbed by innumerable fleas concluded a miserable day.
In spite of our desire to quit so unattractive a spot, we did
not start till 7.45 a.m. (a much later hour than usual), partly
because we knew that the stage before us was a short one, and
had no reason to anticipate better quarters at the end of it than
those we were leaving; partly because 'Ali's whip had disappeared
and could not be found till our host was informed that no money
About 1 p.m. we reached our halting-place, Tashli-Chay, and
found lodgings in a gloomy hovel, which served the double
purpose of a resting-place for guests and a stable for buffaloes.
The people, however, were better than the place. Our host was
an old Persian with henna-dyed beard and nails, who manifested
his good feeling towards us by plunging his hand, with an
introductory "Bismi'llah," into the dish of poached eggs which was
set before us for luncheon. His son, a bright handsome lad of
sixteen or seventeen, made every effort to enliven us, and, on
my enquiring whether there were any fish in the river, offered to
conduct us thither, and show us not only where they were, but
how to catch them. Having collected several other youths, he
commenced operations by constructing a dam of stones and turf
half across the river, at a point where it was divided into two
branches by a bed of shingle. The effect of this was to direct the
bulk of the water into the left-hand channel, while the depth
of that which remained in the right-hand channel (at the lower
end of which a boy was stationed to beat the water with a stick,
and so prevent the imprisoned fish from effecting their escape)
sunk to a few inches. Having completed these preparations, the
operators entered the water with sticks in their hands, struck at
the fish as they darted past, thereby killing or stunning them, and
Although our lodging was not much superior, in point of
cleanliness and comfort, to that of the preceding night, it was
with something like regret that I bade farewell to the kindly folk
of Tashli-Chay. Farach had started on in front with the baggage,
leaving his brother Feyzu'llah, of whom we had hitherto seen but
little, to bear us company. This Feyzu'llah was a smooth-faced,
narrow-eyed, smug-looking, sturdy rascal, whose face wore
a perpetual and intolerable grin, and whose head was concealed
rather than crowned by the large, low, conical, long-haired
papak which constitutes the usual head-dress of the peasants
inhabiting that region which lies just beyond the Turco-Persian
frontier. We were also accompanied by a Turkish zabtiyye, who
proved to be unusually intelligent; for when we were come
opposite to the village of Uch-Kilisa, which lies on the farther
side of the river, he told us that there was an old Armenian church
there which was worth looking at, and that we should by no means
neglect to pay our respects to an aged Armenian ecclesiastic,
entitled by him the "Murakhkhas Efendi," who, as he assured
us, enjoyed such influence in the neighbourhood that, were he
to give the command, a hundred men would escort us to Tabriz.
We therefore turned aside from our course (to the infinite
disgust of Feyzu'llah, whose only desire was to reach the end
of the stage as soon as possible), and first proceeded to the
church. This was a fine old building, but it had suffered at the
hands of the Kurds during the Russian war, and the beautiful
designs and paintings with which it had before that time been
It was with a sense of comfort and encouragement that we
parted from the venerable and reverend old man; but this feeling
was presently changed to one of indignation against Feyzu'llah,
who had urged the length of the stage as a reason for hastening
on, when not much after 1.30 p.m., we arrived at the wretched
town of Diyadin, where we were to sleep for the last time on
Turkish territory. A more desolate spot I do not think I have
ever seen; the dirty, dusty town, which scarcely contains two
respectable houses, stands in a barren, treeless waste, and is half
encompassed by a vast crescent-shaped chasm with precipitous
sides. Heaps of refuse lie about in all directions, both before the
doors of the miserable hovels which compose the town, and
amongst the graves of the extensive and neglected cemetery
which surrounds it. Of the two respectable houses which I have
noticed, one belongs to the governor, the other is the post-office.
To the latter we paid a visit, and conversed for a while with the
postmaster and telegraph-clerk (for both functions were united
in one individual), who was a Turk of Adrianople. He complained
bitterly of the dullness of Diyadin, where he had been for two
years, and to which a marriage contracted with a Kurdish girl
had failed to reconcile him. On returning to our lodging we
found that the aperture in the roof which did duty for window
and chimney alike admitted so much wind and dust that we were
compelled to cover it with sacking; while to add to our miseries
Next morning (23rd October), the seventh day of our departure from Erzeroum, we were in the saddle by 6 a.m. My spirits were high, for I knew that before sunset we should enter the land which I had so long and so eagerly desired to behold. The zabtiyye who accompanied us (remarkable for an enormous hooked nose) took pains to impress upon us the necessity of keeping well together, as there was some danger of robbers. Presently, on rounding a corner, a glorious view burst upon us. Ararat (which had been hidden from us by lower hills since we first saw it from the heights above Zeyti-Kyan) lay far to the left, its snowy summit veiled in clouds, which, however, left unconcealed the lower peak of little Ararat. Before us, at the end of the valley, perched midway up the face of a steep, rocky mountain, lay the town and fortress of Bayezid, which keeps solitary watch over the north-east frontier of the Turkish Empire. This we did but see afar off, for, while two or three hours' march still separated us from it, we turned sharply to the right into the valley leading to Kazil-Dize, the last village on Turkish soil. At this point we left the telegraph wires, which had, since our departure from Trebizonde, kept us company and indicated the course of our road.
Soon after mid-day we reached Kazil-Dize, and, leaving our
baggage in the custom-house, betook ourselves for rest and
refreshment to a large and commodious khan. The custom-house
officials gave us no trouble; but as soon as we were again on the
road Farach informed us, with many lamentations, that they had
exacted from him a sum of forty-five piastres, alleging, as a
pretext for this extortion, that whereas he had brought seven
horses with him on his last journey into Turkey, he was returning
with only five; that they suspected him of having sold the two
The hook-nosed veteran who had accompanied us from Diyadin
had yielded place to a fresh zabtiyye, who rode silently
before us for two hours, during which we continued to ascend
gradually through wild but monotonous hills, till, on reaching
a slight eminence over which the road passed, he reined in his
horse, and, turning in his saddle, said, "Farther I cannot go with
you, for this is our frontier, and yonder before you lies the Persian
land."
|