# The Nestorians and their Rituals/Volume 1/Chapter 3

CHAPTER III.
Oct. 10th.—We left Tocât at 8 a.m., accompanied by two guards sent with us by the governor, and travelled over a wild and rugged district until we reached a Derbend called Coord Beli. It snowed much all the morning, and our journey was rendered more difficult because Mrs. Badger and I had taken the winter in preference to the summer road, the former being the shorter of the two. We reached the Derbend, which is situated in a mountain pass, at 11 a.m., where we alighted to await the remainder of our party. Here we were welcomed by the guards, who put fresh fuel to the fire round which they were seated, and then busied themselves in drying our cloaks, which were thoroughly wet. The Tatar, who had a good appetite and seldom forgot to carry with him a supply of provisions, had brought a leg of mutton from Tocât slung to his saddle. This was soon artistically cut up, the ramrod of a musket served as a spit, and in a short time we were regaled with a good luncheon of cabâb, and a draught of sour milk, which the guards kept preserved in a bladder, and which when diluted forms an agreeable beverage. The hut was built of logs and mud, and was furnished with a couple of rough stone divans, several pieces of old carpeting, a few cooking utensils, and a bed quilt or two. The room itself was not more than twelve feet square, and yet ​six guards, two large Coordish dogs, and a sheep, seemed to find a comfortable shelter under its roof. The walls were hung with matchlocks, swords, pistols, and other weapons of defence, and the novelty of the scene as well as the good humour and cheerful songs of the weather-beaten soldiers soon made us forget the fatigue of our morning ride.
We left the Derbend at 1 p.m., and in two hours came in sight of the lofty Yulduz Dagh, or Mountain of the Star, which rises like an immense pyramid from the surrounding plain. The heavy clouds which were being fast drifted by the wind occasionally hid its snowy summit from our view, and then ever and anon sparkled gloriously in the rays of the sun, which shone forth from an expansive field of blue. Yulduz Dagh is within a few miles of the large Mohammedan village of Ghirkhen, which we reached at 5 p.m.
Oct. 10th.—Our road from Ghirkhen, from whence we started at half-past 6 a.m., lay over a high table land, which stretches almost to the entering of Siwâs. The only object of interest in a long nine hours' ride was a copious spring, six inches in diameter, which literally gushed out of the soil into an adjoining stream. The country around was only partly cultivated, and though we saw some villages in the distance, a solitary Derbend was the only human habitation in the direct road.
The entry to Siwâs we found dirty in the extreme, arising chiefly from the narrowness of the streets and the numerous streams which flow through the environs. A good wall and two citadels built, as an existing inscription informs us, by Aboo'l Fettah, a.h. 621, and rebuilt by order of Sultan Mohammed, the son of Moorad Khan, in the year 861 of the same era, once surrounded the town, but like the town itself are at present in a most dilapidated condition. The pasha of the province, who resides here, allotted us a lodging in the house of a respectable Armenian, who received us kindly, gave us a good supper, and gladly chatted with us about the affairs of his church and people till near midnight.
Cabira, the treasure city of Mithridates, and the ancient name of Siwâs, was first changed by Pompey into Diopolis, and afterwards into Sebastia, from whence the modern appellation is derived. At the time of Justinian it became the capital of ​Lesser Armenia, but in 1080 it reverted to the Byzantine empire, from which it was shortly after taken by the Seljukians. It finally fell into the power of the Osmanlis under Mohammed I., who wrested it from the Turcomans in 1415.
One-fourth of the population of Siwâs consists of Armenians, who number here 1050 families, with three churches, several priests, and a bishop. The Papal Armenians do not amount to more than fifty persons, and hold their services in a private house. The Greeks, who reckon but twenty families, have a small church and a priest.
Siwâs is renowned for its excellent honey. Its chief export is wool, which is also manufactured here into hose, gloves, &e., and sent to all parts of the empire.
Oct. 12th.—Accompanied by six mounted guards we left Siwas, at 8 a.m., and in one hour crossed the broad bed of the Kizzil Irmak, the ancient Halys, over a bridge of eighteen arches. The road now led over a continuation of the same high table land that we had traversed yesterday, and at half-past 10 a.m. we reached a pass in the hills called Tcifté Kardash, or the Couple of Brothers, consisting of two narrow pathways separated by a mass of rock, and which, according to tradition, derives its name from two brothers having crossed without meeting, whilst one was on his way from Constantinople to visit his brother, and the other journeying from Baghdad to the capital for the same purpose. In a valley beyond this is a salt spring, from which large quantities of salt are procured during the summer season by evaporation. After travelling over an uninteresting route for five hours and a half we reached the village of Oolash, containing about sixty Armenian families, engaged principally as agriculturists and shepherds. The mud hovels of these Christians were dirty and comfortless, and the poor and oppressed people themselves seemed equally miserable. There are three priests and a small church in the village, and I was informed that an American Independent missionary, who had preceded me by a few days on his way to Mosul, had distributed numerous tracts among the villagers.
Oct. 15th.—Started from Oolash at 6 a.m., and in four hours reached Delikli Tash, or the Riven Rock, inhabited entirely by Moslems, where we changed horses and guards. The place ​derives its name from an adjacent cliff containing two natural apertures, through which the superstitious villagers believe it impossible for a criminal to pass, and that if any one succeeds in entering in at one and coming out at the other he is sure to obtain a good wife when he is in need of one.
After resting an hour we travelled over a wild and barren country, and at 3 p.m. put up at Kangal, a village containing twelve Armenian and twenty Mussulman families. The former have lately rebuilt their little church, and invited a priest from a large monastery about four hours distant to reside among them. On account of the heavy falls of snow in this district the houses are built very low and partly under ground. They generally consist of one room, which is shared by the villagers and their cattle. The poor people willingly resigned to us their portion of the apartment, but as they could not dislodge their animals we had to pass the night in close contact with sheep, goats, mules, and asses.
Oct. 14th.—After going six hours over a barren country we reached the miserable Mohammedan village of Alaja Khan, the limit of the pashalic of Siwâs. The day after we traversed a district called Soofoolalloo, cultivated by Kizil-bash Turcomans, the followers of Hussim, and in seven hours reached Hasan Tcelebi, where we put up for the night. Wishing rather to spend Sunday among Christians than among Mussulmans, we left the latter place very early in the morning, and in four hours came to Hekim Khan. To our great disappointment we heard that most of the Christians had been obliged to quit the village on account of the continued tyranny and oppression of their Mohammedan neighbours. Only twelve out of forty Armenian families now remained in the place, and their abject condition bespoke the harsh treatment which they had received from their infidel masters. Poor people! they looked up to us with hopeful interest, and entreated that we would do something to relieve their misery.
Towards the evening, we visited their little church: it was such a place as we may imagine the early Christians to have worshipped in, when they were obliged to resort to caves and dens of the earth, to conceal their persons and sacred rites from the fury of their heathen persecutors. Like the rest of the ​buildings, it was partly under ground; and receiving no light from without, we were obliged to crawl through a narrow passage, which led into the interior, with tapers in our hands. The body of the church was about eighteen feet square, and seven feet high, the roof was supported by four upright beams, a few rough boards separated the sacrarium from the nave, on each side of the altar hung a tolerable painting, and in a corner was a chest containing the shattered remains of their rituals. One priest continues faithful to his flock, and it was a touching spectacle to see how the poor people loved and revered him. To my great surprise all the children were able to read, and I heard from them that the missionary already alluded to had left them a few tracts when he passed through their village. The priest offered to sell me several Roman coins which he had picked up in the vicinity, and he literally wept as he parted with his little treasure. The villagers being unable to support him, he is obliged to work in the fields like a common labourer. He informed me that Hekim Khan was within the diocese of the Armenian Bishop of Cesarea, who has a Chorepiscopos at Malatiyah.
The Mohammedans here have a mosque, and I was informed, that over the gateway of what served now as a khan, there was a long Greek inscription.
Oct. 17th.—Eleven hours' travelling brought us to the Moslem village of Tahir-kieui, and it took us about the same time to reach Kabban Maaden on the following day. For the sake of brevity, as well as not to weary the reader with such like repetitions, T must refer him to the map for the general features of the country over which we passed. Before reaching the town, we crossed the Euphrates, which at this place, is about one hundred yards wide, in large open boats resembling in form a huge slipper. Into these our horses and mules entered without any ado, and in a few minutes, we were all comfortably lodged in the house of a respectable Armenian.
Kabban Maaden appears to be in a very flourishing condition, and we remarked that the Christians here did not complain of oppression. The town contains twenty families of the Greek rite, with two churches and a Bishop, besides a monastery in the vicinity. The Armenians, who are under the Bishop ​of Siwâs number four hundred families and possess two churches.
We paid a visit to the smelting furnaces, of which there are two in the town, one worked by Greeks, which produces daily ten pounds of mixed metal, and the other by Germans and Hungarians, which produces double that quantity. The silver is separated from the lead at a different furnace, worked exclusively by natives, and from this is forwarded to the capital. The whole business is under the superintendence of a Frank overseer.
Oct. 19th.—Six hours after leaving Kabban Maaden, we reached the Armenian village of Arpaoot, where we had hoped to remain for the night; but finding that a troop of Albanians had been quartered upon the poor Christians for the last fifteen days, and were still eating up their scanty provisions like a flight of locusts, we continued our journey for an hour longer, and put up at the Mohammedan village of Pelté. Here we had some difficulty in obtaining a lodging in a filthy hut from which we were driven by swarms of vermin, so we finally spread our carpets for the night under an open shed.
Oct. 20th.—Three hours after leaving Pelté we reached Mezraa, where we were obliged to halt in order to change horses. On our way, we passed the large village of Koolverk, near which is a monastery, both inhabited by Armenians. The pretty plain in which Mezraa is situated reminded us of some country places in our native land; but how different is the condition of the villagers who inhabit those little dwellings, from which the curling smoke is ascending towards an azure sky, and whose labour it is that renders the scene around so gay and beautiful, from the husbandmen of happy England! The heart sickens at the contrast, which only those can enter into who have witnessed the baneful effects of a despotic and infidel government.
Mezraa is situated on the plain immediately below the large town of Kharpoot, which stands upon a rocky hill about two miles distant, and is the residence of a Jacobite Bishop, whose diocese joins that of Urfah, and includes five hundred Syrian families.
Whilst resting at the post-house, we witnessed the entry of a new Pasha into Kharpoot. The number of officials of all ranks from the towns and villages, the large assembly of Coordish ​chiefs, Moollahs, and Oolema; as well as the immense crowd of merchants and tradesmen who had met together, clad in their gaudy oriental apparel, to greet the new comer, made the spectacle at once gay and attractive. A troop of Albanians in their rich dresses, and a company of Turkish infantry were drawn up to salute his Excellency as he passed, whilst two cannon kept up a constant fire in honour of the event. But amidst all this pageantry, one could not help reflecting how much misery this new appointment had already occasioned, and how much it was still destined to occasion to the unfortunate subjects. At whatever town or village a Pasha and his suite, (in this instance it consisted of three hundred mounted followers), put up during their journey, the poor inhabitants are obliged to supply all their wants gratuitously, and not unfrequently get abuse and stripes into the bargain. This is the third appointment to the pashalic of Kharpoot during the current year; and as every new governor generally attains to office by a large bribe, he naturally seeks to make good his advance with interest during his uncertain continuance in office; and to come at this, the poor subjects are ground to the dust by the fresh exactions of each succeeding tyrant who is sent to rule over them. They may talk of the Hatti Shereef, that vain chapter of privileges, in London or Paris, and praise the toleration and justice which it awards to all classes of the Sultan's subjects; but beyond the immediate eye of the ambassadors, this far-famed Magna Charta is no better than a mockery.
Four hours after leaving Mezraa, we reached the small Mohammedan town of Moollah-kieui, where we found it difficult to obtain shelter, as every house was occupied by Albanian troops.
Oct. 21st.—Left Moollah-kieui at 4 a.m., and after ascending the rugged hills beyond, we came in sight of the Geoljik Barmaz Ovasi lake, just as the sun rose from behind the mighty Taurus, shedding a grandeur over the mountain scene which no language can adequately describe. The lake, which appeared to be about twelve miles long and five wide, is hemmed in by gigantic rocks, and presents the appearance of a huge basin. After crossing its northern extremity, we entered the Anti-Taurus, and having forded one of the sources of the Tigris, we ​rested awhile at a khan, before beginning the most fatiguing part of our journey, which still lay before us.
We then began the ascent of the Taurus, winding our way now through valleys, and now over the sloping sides of precipices, in continual danger of being precipitated from the narrow foot-path into the deep gorges below. The mountains here as well as for miles around are almost barren, having been stripped of their wood to supply fuel for the mines at Arghana Maaden; but still the scenery is grand and even beautiful, and the traveller can hardly help feeling as he traverses these majestic heights, how insignificant man is, and how infinite must be the power of Him Who created these gigantic masses of earth, enriched them with never ending stores of wealth, fashioned them at His pleasure, and fixed them so that they cannot be moved by a power less than almighty.
On reaching the summit of the Taurus, we commenced the difficult descent to Arghana Maaden, a small town situated on two sides of a deep gorge, and so shut in by the encompassing hills that our entrance into it was as sudden as it was welcome. We had travelled for thirteen hours over a toilsome road in heat and cold, and Mrs. Badger, who had hitherto borne up against fatigue, fainted as soon as she left the saddle.
There are at Arghana Maaden 150 Moslem, 200 Greek, and 190 Armenian families. The Greeks have a church, four priests, and a school in the town, which is the only place on our road where we found this people speak their own native language; those we had met with hitherto spoke Turkish, which they write in Greek characters. They are reckoned within the diocese of Kabban Maaden. The Armenians, who also have a church here, are under the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Arabkir. As might have been expected, they knew nothing of the English Church, and had only heard of us as being Lutherans.
Most of the inhabitants of the place are engaged in working the copper mines in the vicinity, which are generally let by government to a company of native merchants, who are supplied with fuel, and receive ten twelfths of a penny for every pound of metal which they remit to the refiners at Tocât. There being scarcely any wood left in the vicinity, the poor Coords are obliged to bring it from a distance of seven days' journey for a ​mere trifle. No less than nine furnaces are kept constantly at work, which produce from 2,800 lbs. to 3,000 lbs. of metal in twenty-four hours.
Excellent wine is made here from the grapes which grow almost wild in the mountains around.
Oct. 22nd.—We left Arghana Maaden at 6 a.m., and after travelling about five miles crossed another tributary of the Tigris over a good bridge. In three hours we reached Arghana, situated on the sides and summit of a high hill, and inhabited by 400 Armenian and 200 Mohammedan families. There are two churches in the town, and a large monastery built upon a craggy eminence, and commanding an extensive view of the wide plain which stretches to the south so far as the eye can reach. Our guard from the mines was here exchanged for two of the most miserable apologies for soldiers that can be imagined. One was armed with an old rusty sword without a scabbard, and the other carried a musket, but no ammunition. The poor fellows, who were almost naked, had evidently been pressed into our service from the streets; but they trudged on cheerily, keeping up with our horses for five long hours over an arid waste, till at 4 p.m. they delivered over their charge in safety to Bektash Agha, the chief of a branch of the Omeryân Coords, who with about one hundred followers was encamped in the plain. The Agha received us kindly, and ordered one division of his large tent to be prepared for our reception. We had scarcely seated ourselves when Osman Pasha, with about thirty Turkish horsemen, arrived on his way to greet the new pasha of Kharpoot. These gentry soon made themselves at home, ordered forage for their horses, and sat down to devour the repast which the Coords had prepared for themselves. Osraan Pasha was accommodated in a division of the tent adjoining ours, and hearing that an Eaglish traveller was his near neighbour, he begged me to dine with him. He sat in the tent with his watch in hand, now looking towards the west, then at the dial-plate, anxiously awaiting the legal hour to break the fast of Ramadhân. He then set to in good earnest, and after going through his ablutions begged that I would amuse myself until he had performed his devotions. A lesson this worthy the imitation of Christians.
​Whilst my host was dilating on his attachment to the Franks, and especially to the English, a flock of geese approached within a few yards of us, and set up a most dinning cackling. "Do you hear those birds?" said my unprejudiced companion: "such are the notes of the unbelievers in hell."
Oct. 23rd.—Five hours' ride from the encampment over the same plain which we had crossed yesterday, brought us to the gates of Diarbekir, where we were quartered by the governor in the house of a papal Syrian who bade us welcome, and hospitably entertained us during our short stay.