It is all cheery, home-like and delightful out here after my lonely life in Alexandropol and Kars. I began to take an interest in all my surroundings once more. When I waked up next morning my first thought was, “Can it be true, or is it only a dream that I have my husband to myself?” and I almost cried for joy when I was quite sure it was true.
March 16th.—Life in Erzeroum is an Elysium after my lonely life in Alexandropol and Kars. I am in such a radiant mood that I think everything I see is perfect. I have nothing left to wish for and am able to allow myself the luxury of a piano, a lovely saddle-horse, and all sorts of nice things. Our house is one of the biggest in Erzeroum; it looks palatial after my lodgings in Alexandropol and Kars. From the top of our terrace-roof one can see the whole town from a bird’s eye view, with its sixty-six minarets rising to the sky, its imposing citadels and floating flags over different Consulates. In the far distance there is the encircling chain of the Palantek mountains, with glittering snow-peaks. The houses are low, with balustrades round them like those in Biblical pictures. There are about 15,000 inhabitants in Erzeroum; the majority are Turks, then come Greeks and Armenians. After sunset the town looks gloomy, only soldiers can be seen in the streets. As for the population, it is represented only by a multitude of errant dogs, the usual street-sweepers of Turkish towns. I hear every evening the voices of the muezzins (Turkish priests) calling to prayer: “Alla huac bar, Alla huac bar!” (God is great.)
I had a nightmare last night, and with a loud scream I woke up. I dreamt that Sergy was ordered to the war and clung to him, fearing to be parted again. Sergy held me close to him and kissed away my tears, assuring me that nothing and nobody could part us now, and that I shall be with him always, night and day. He succeeded at length in calming my fears. I felt safe again under his wing and fell peacefully asleep.
March 17th.—My arrival caused the greatest excitement among the Christian inhabitants of Erzeroum. They are all singing my praises for having come out here by those shocking roads, and they say that I certainly deserve a medal as a reward for my bravery.
Was it curiosity to see a European woman, or was it a desire to show devotedness to the Russians? Perhaps both reasons together made visitors overflow our drawing-room. All the big wigs of the town came to pay their respects to me. To-day, for instance, I received the family of George Effendi, one of the richest Greek merchants of Erzeroum. His wife wore a splendid silk dress interwoven with gold and silver, and a small velvet cap adorned with gold spangles and tassels. Her daughter-in-law, a woman of fourteen, of childish stature and appearance, was obliged to keep the most absolute silence in her presence, whilst her own daughter chatted in very bad French all the while. After them came the family of Antoine-Effendi Schabanian, the most noted Armenian inhabitant of the town, who had come to present his respects to me the day before.
The native Christian women, being under the dominion of Turkish rule, find themselves here in such a state of degradation, that their husbands consider it unsuitable to appear with them anywhere. Antoine Effendi speaks very good English for a foreigner; he has been a correspondent of the Times during the Russo-Turkish war. Other guests came in quick succession, amongst them the French Consul, M. Gilbert, with his wife, a charming young woman, so bright and winsome. Mme. Gilbert seems very friendly; she has put her books and music at my disposal. We propose to see each other often, and to take long walks together. During the Gilbert’s visit an old Pasha came in. That ancient fanatic, more than eighty years of age, didn’t venture to look into my face, but kept his eyes fixed chastely on the carpet, murmuring sotto voce something I didn’t understand. Mme. Gilbert, who speaks Turkish, explained that the aged mussulman was making oriental compliments to me. Just before dinner an Australian doctor came in, holding a stick and a Scotch cap in his hand. That young physician is summoned away to Constantinople and has come to ask Sergy for a passport. He is the son of a rich cattle-breeder residing in Melbourne. I saw on his arm a white band with a red crescent and the letters S.H.S. on it, indicating that he belonged to the “Stafford House Society.” There is a great number of European doctors attending the Turks in Erzeroum; nearly all the nations have sent their contingents of medical men. These Christians in the Turkish service produce rather a painful impression on me.
A telegraphic office is just opened. No telegram can be sent without my husband’s permission as censor. Heaps of telegraphic despatches are brought to him every day. The first telegram was sent by Sergy to Ismail-Pasha, the former governor of Erzeroum, in which he congratulated the Turkish warrior on the inauguration of the telegraph.
March 18th.—To-day my husband gave a grand dinner in honour of a dozen officers belonging to the Turkish army who happen to be staying here at present. A military band announced the arrival of our Turkish guests by a loud march. The dinner was a very gay and long one, consisting of twelve courses. Our guests, not being fanatics, did ample honour to the champagne. I sat opposite Sergy, between Houssein-Pasha and Daniel-Bek, a smart young officer of the Turkish staff, aide-de-camp to the celebrated Moukhtar-Pasha. This young Turk wore his fez jauntily on one side, and looked quite European, having been educated in Paris. He has been military attaché at the Turkish Embassy at St. Petersburg for three years and speaks perfect French and Russian. Daniel-Bek surveyed me with appraising eyes and set himself to be charming to me all through the meal. I found him most amusing, and was soon chatting away to him as if I had known him for years. Houssein-Pasha teased me all through dinner by insinuating that his subordinate was paying court to me too openly.
March 19th.—It is Sunday to-day. We have attended mass at the Greek Cathedral. Though it is situated far away from the centre of the town, we proceeded thither on foot, escorted by Hamid-Bey, an officer attached to the person of my husband, a dragoman, a Turkish zaptieh, and about a dozen Cossacks. The attitude of the Armenian inhabitants that we met on our way was most cordial and sympathetic towards us, but the Mussulmans showed open hostility by the glances full of hatred that they cast upon us. By these glances it was easy to distinguish the Turks from the Armenians, notwithstanding the similitude of their garments.
The Greek Cathedral was erected in honour of St. George the Conqueror. There is a throne in the middle for the Archbishop who said mass, arrayed in his sacerdotal vestments; he wore on his head an immense mitre adorned with the Byzantine Eagle. The prayers were sung in Greek with a very nasal sound. Our Russian officers have made a present to this church of the image of St. George with the following dedication: “In commemoration of the sojourn of the Russian army in Erzeroum in the year 1878.”
We didn’t remain till the end of the service, for on that same morning a requiem was sung in the Armenian Cathedral for the repose of the soul of General Shelkovnikoff, my husband’s predecessor. I aroused much curiosity and attention at church, where an enormous congregation had gathered. The Cathedral appeared very imposing with all the wax lights and chandeliers ablaze, and the Metropolitan looked magnificent, clad in a robe that was stiff with gold embroideries. About a hundred chanters, in black and red surplices, sang melodious hymns; from time to time choristers shook big silver disks with much noise. The loud voice of the Metropolitan was suddenly drowned by a deafening uproar above in the choirs. A loud squabble arose among the Armenian women, who protested loudly at seeing me down in the nave of the church where they were not allowed to penetrate. As soon as the service was over the Metropolitan delivered a long sermon of which we couldn’t make out a word. It proved to be an ovation in favour of the Russians, as well as a demonstration against the Turks. I fear that he will have to pay dearly for his eloquence as soon as we leave Erzeroum. After service the Metropolitan invited us to have a cup of tea. During our visit Sergy asked him the reason of the women’s screams in the choirs, and he explained to us that it was quite natural that the liberty given to European women had created an animosity between these recluses, who protested against it in that noisy way.
We have spent the afternoon in paying calls in a victoria belonging to General Heimann, the only carriage in all Erzeroum. After our visit to Mme. Gilbert, we went to George Effendi, where we were received with effusive cordiality. As soon as we were seated on a low divan, Turkish coffee without sugar, and different sorts of preserves were served to us. Oriental politeness required us to take a very small quantity of jam and to drink a whole glass of water after it. When we got up to say good-bye, George Effendi threw upon my shoulder a shawl of great price that I had just admired, and his daughter undid her beautiful necklace of heavy coins and clasped it round my neck. Of course I refused both presents outright, but I was told afterwards that it was an Oriental custom to offer as a present the object just praised. I will certainly abstain from admiring anything in the future, because the natives say directly: “It is yours, take it!” and that is very embarrassing.
When we got home we found an old Turk at our door who held a paper in his hand. He was robbed the previous night and came to complain to my husband. I had hardly time to take off my hat when three French sisters of mercy were announced. After that came the Persian Consul, accompanied by his interpreter. The Consul is a honey-tongued personage, who made graceful speeches to me; flattering phrases came so readily to his lips, and I did not particularly like him.
March 20th.—My riding habit of dark-blue cloth and a jacket made after the style of a Turkish uniform, have just been brought to me. When I appeared for the first time in that costume, Hamid-Bey saluted me in military fashion because the sleeves of my habit were made with gold embroideries like those of a pasha.
I spend much of my time in the saddle, accompanied by my husband and a large suite. Such freedom given to the young “giaour,” is incomprehensible to the inhabitants of Erzeroum, who find it very improper. I have stirred up a stormy discussion in many Christian families; newly married women begin to protest against the ancient order of things, and the old ones, on the contrary, faithful to the ancient traditions, show themselves indignant against European, liberal customs.
The Persian Consul has sent me this morning a large basket of fresh oranges and lemons, which came from Trebizond, and Erzeroum is still buried in snow. I had another present to-day, a splendid roasted turkey-cock sent to me by the wife of the President of the Turkish Municipal Council, who warned me of her visit, so as to be quite certain of meeting no man in our house.
This evening about twenty doctors of Russian, English and Turkish nationalities came to debate upon the indifferent sanitary conditions of the town. During this winter about 1500 Russian soldiers have been buried here; their graves were of such small depth that when the melting of the snows had begun, many tombs were exposed to view and it was necessary to fill them up once more. Doctor Remmert, the chief physician of the army of the Caucasus, sent up to Erzeroum in order to inspect the military hospitals, was agreeably surprised to see the town so clean and so well arranged. The innumerable canals have been cleaned out and the slaughter-houses banished from the town. The heaps of snow, of more than three metres in height, that encumbered the streets, are completely cleared away. The inhabitants, seeing the Russian workmen occupied with the improvements of the general state of health of their own town say: “How funny these Russians are to spend so much money for an affair that a month later nature would do for nothing!”
In returning from our ride this morning we saw a group of mollahs assembled before our house. They had come to complain against the Russian police that had arrived to take an inventory of all their goods, and had begun to make an account of their wives and cattle, it proved to be the Sanitary Commission who were obtaining necessary information. My husband took immediate measures to calm the population.
The Armenian-Catholic Archbishop, Melchisedec, called before dinner. Though he is suavity itself, there is something about him which gives me a feeling of distrust. He pretends to be very happy that the Russians still occupy Erzeroum, and dreads our departure, fearing cruel treatment from the Turks towards the Christian population.
March 21st.—My husband introduced an American clergyman to me this morning, who is working as a missionary in Erzeroum. He has come to ask Sergy to give him a large supply of bread and money, but Sergy said that he could give him but a small sum. The Russian government has, in fact, assigned a monthly subsidy for the poor population of Erzeroum, not only for the Protestants, but for all the indigent, independent of their religion or nationality.
Later on came Ibrahim Bey, one of the dignitaries of the town of Khnyss, who had to proceed further on to Ernzindjane, the head-quarters of Ismail Pasha. This Turk kissed the lappets of my husband’s coat slavishly, and drew backwards towards the door, putting his hand to his forehead and heart. As an example of Turkish barbarism I shall note an exploit that he related to Sergy and of which he boasted, a truly disgusting story. At Khnyss some Kurdes dug up the corpse of a Russian soldier and stripped him of his clothes and boots. As a punishment for their sacrilegious misdeed, Ibrahim Pasha obliged the Kurdes to eat these boots, chopped up into small bits.
March 25th.—On account of ill-health, General Loris-Melikoff, by his own request, was released from the command of the main army, which was given over to General Heimann.
The contents of the political telegrams received to-day are rather alarming; England decidedly plots a war afresh, and a rumour of the approaching breaking of peace has spread in the town. We must be prepared that the Turks will assail us at any moment.
This morning a soldier of the light infantry, belonging to the Malakani sect, desiring to embrace the Orthodox religion, came to beg me to stand Godmother to him. This soldier made a vow to be baptised if he escaped war safely; he has been in all the fights without having received the slightest wound, and thinks it proper now to fulfil his promise, I of course consented willingly.
March 26th.—The baptism of the Malakan soldier took place to-day in the Armenian cathedral, which was so crowded that the “cavasses” had to clear a way for us to pass. The Metropolitan officiated in Greek and addressed himself continually to me in that language. As I couldn’t understand a word, I didn’t know how to answer and what to do, and was very comic, I am sure, in repeating aloud the Greek phrases that he dictated to me. Mr. Popoff, an officer of the light-infantry, acted as Godfather. Our Godson had to be completely undressed, which took place behind a screen, and then brought in to us covered only with a white sheet. I didn’t know where to cast my eyes whilst he was being dipped in the font, which was no other than the big soup-boiler of the brigade to which our Godson belonged. I did not dare to glance at Sergy and pressed my lips together, trying not to shake with laughter, and drew a breath of profound relief, when I realised that the ceremony of baptism was over.
From church we went to visit the bride of Egueshi, our Armenian interpreter. The walls of her sitting-room were all hung up with her drawings, amongst which we saw the portrait of our Emperor painted by our hostess in the space of two days, during the time when the Christian inhabitants of Erzeroum expected their town to be invaded by the Russians. Dreading to see our soldiers enter their homes by force, in order to plunder them, they put out big wooden crosses before their houses in the hope of mollifying the hearts of our soldiers, trusting to escape thus from the general fate. Our hostess told us candidly that she concealed that picture when the Turkish officials visited her house, but during our visit the portrait of His Majesty occupied the place of honour.
To-day my husband has ordered Shefket Bey, one of the oldest members of the Ottoman officers left in Erzeroum, to fire a cannon from the citadel at twelve o’clock precisely, employing for that purpose a Turkish gun and Turkish powder. Ten of our soldiers have been appointed for that special service by Sergy. Shefket Bey was obliged to submit, swallowing his wrath. He took it with outward meekness, whilst his eyes gave a flash, and answered humbly, “Pek-ei.” (I’ll obey you.)
Amongst the Turkish telegrams that my husband received this morning there was one to Ismail Pasha with a complaint against Sergy for having forbidden the Ottoman flag to be hoisted over the tower of the principal citadel of Erzeroum. In answer to this telegram Ismail Pasha gave orders that every command given by the Russian authorities should be strictly executed.
Among the representatives of the different churches here it is only the Mussulman “moufti” who has not presented himself to my husband. Yesterday evening a group of Turkish inhabitants came to ask permission to hoist their flag on Fridays, but Sergy told them that they interfered with things that didn’t concern them, and that it was their “moufti” who had to solicit this permission. The “moufti” arrived to-day accompanied by a great number of white-bearded and white-turbaned “imams” (Mahometan priests) dressed in long furred robes. This time my husband has given them the permission to hoist their standard on Fridays, and has been warmly thanked for it.
We had two interesting guests at dinner to-day, a young Persian prince, nephew of the Shah, who serves as dragoon officer in the Russian army, and is attached to the policemaster of Erzeroum for the present, and Daniel Effendi, a Turkish bureaucrat, who was sent to Constantinople last year as member of the new Turkish Parliament. After dinner, as we sipped our coffee on the roof-terrace, Egueshi, with a rather scattered expression, came up to Sergy and led him away, whispering something into his ear. Later on I was informed that there had just been an earthquake, and as the second shock is generally stronger than the first one, Egueshi came to advise my husband to make us all come out into the street. Some years before there had been such a terrible earthquake in Erzeroum that the inhabitants were forced to camp out in the open air for a whole month. After to-day’s earthquake one of the walls in the citadel has partly fallen down, and a great number of houses have cracked. It’s very strange that I haven’t felt anything at all, not the slightest shock. In order to prevent accidents in Erzeroum, where earthquakes are frequent, big beams are put into the masonries of nearly all the buildings. Two great shocks and some slight ones have succeeded each other during the night, and this time I felt them. It’s my first experience of an earthquake, and my last one, I hope.
March 28th.—The weather being comparatively fine, we have taken a long walk this afternoon in the direction of the Tap-Dagh, a beautiful valley situated at the foot of a high mountain from whence one discovers the source of the Euphrates, the famous Biblical river. Behind the Tap-Dagh, according to Armenian traditions, Adam’s Paradise was situated, with the two rivers mentioned in the descriptions of Elysium. This is where fate has brought me. The scenery is said to be exquisite, the vegetation luxurious.
The future is already brightened. The terms of the treaty of peace have finally been signed at San-Sebastiano on the 1st of February. This glorious piece of news has reached us only to-day in this out-of-the-world place.
April 1st.—Mr. Kamsarakan, our Prefect of the Police, is a very jolly fellow, fond of playing jokes on his friends. To-day, for instance, he has invited to dinner all his acquaintances belonging to the Russian colony whom he met in the street, promising them a splendid Russian cabbage-pie. His guests rejoiced beforehand at the thought of partaking of that famous national dish, but as they began to arrive, there was no sign whatever of any preparations for dinner, and Kamsarakan’s servant announced that his master was out and would probably not dine at home to-day. The guests’ countenances expressed the blankest dismay; being far from their fatherland no one had remembered that the first of April was the day of traditional mystifications. As for Kamsarakan, he went at the same time to Mr. Eritzeff’s, one of his invited guests, and asked the servant to give him something to eat. He devoured all the supper, and when poor Eritzeff returned home dismissed from Kamsarakan’s house, he found himself deprived both of his dinner and his supper.
April 2nd.—The Catholics celebrate to-day their Palm-Sunday. We went to their cathedral where Capuchin monks, in brown garments, wearing a cord instead of a girdle, officiated. After mass we visited the school directed by the French Sisters of Mercy. The Turks had shown themselves very uncivil to these Sisters when they arrived at Erzeroum, but they got accustomed to them afterwards, and begin now to esteem the good sisters for their attendance on the sick and wounded.
April 4th.—Our Tartar servant Housnadine has arrived from Kars. He has made that journey in sixteen days, being upset several times. Housnadine has brought me different indispensable articles. Until now my wardrobe was in a shocking condition; a small portmanteau contained all my belongings.
We walked down to the ramparts this afternoon with the Gilberts, and rambled over the old fort, surrounded by high massive walls through the embrasures of which cannons are to be seen. During all these eight years of their sojourn in Erzeroum the Gilberts are entering this citadel for the first time, it had been terra prohibita to all strangers up till now. Pushing forward we climbed up a high tower by a narrow winding staircase; my long habit was dreadfully in the way and I stumbled over it continually. The citadel is now occupied by the Russian regiment of Bakou and three or four scores of Turkish soldiers entrusted to watch over the warehouse, who presented arms to my husband. There is a great bond of sympathy between these Osmanlies and our soldiers; though not one of them can speak a word of Turkish, they explained themselves quite easily in a highly fantastic language of their own. Maksoud Effendi, the chief of this small Turkish detachment bewitched us by his amiability and led us to admire the edifice of Chifket-Minaret, a beautiful Arabian building of the ninth century, with two formidable pillars of the Byzantine style at the entrance. According to what the Armenians say a saint of their nationality reposes in that minaret, but the Mussulmans pretend that it is the burial place of one of their most celebrated “imams.” For the moment this mausoleum, as well as the innermost recesses of that edifice, are encumbered with guns, bombs, shells and other objects of but little religious character.
April 6th.—The officers of the rifle battalion invited us to come and take tea in their camp. At our approach a military band struck up a march. The musicians were surrounded by a red-fezzed mob, and the natives, generally lank and thin, looked contemptible little pieces of humanity beside our tall portly soldiers. We were invited to dismount and entered a great tent where we sat down at a long table. Our hosts who were awfully nice to us, proposed a little refreshment and drank our health.
April 7th.—Our landlord, an Italian chemist named Ricci, has transformed himself into a famous physician here, his daughters go to the French school and wear “tchartchaffs,” when they start out of doors. Eleonora, the eldest Signorina Ricci, came in this afternoon to announce to me the visit of the wife of the President of the Town Council; I ran to the window and saw an araba (a Turkish chariot,) covered inside with red cloth approaching our house. The araba was drawn by a pair of beautiful white bullocks, a red-fezzed boy of about twelve was following behind mounted on a tiny pony, and two male servants were running on each side of the vehicle. When the carriage stopped at our door, three women, wrapped up in black veils, stepped out of the chariot and entered our drawing-room. The President’s wife, an outrageously painted young woman, was followed by her little son and two female slaves, a white one and a negress; Turkish ladies of fashion never go out without their attendants. The negress in her scarlet vestment with large printed black flowers reminded me of “Asucena” the Troubadour’s mother. She has been brought over from Stamboul where her mother still resides in the Sultan’s harem. This black Venus was bought by the President’s wife for the sum of a thousand francs. Through Eleonora as interpreter, I was able to carry on a conversation with my Turkish guests, in which harem life was the only topic. The Mussulman women are incapable of seeing anything beyond it, their souls are asleep, they are dull and unimaginative, without any keen interests, and deplorably ignorant; most of them never turn the leaves of a book or trace a word upon paper. The President’s wife told me that she was surnamed “Blue Hanum” on account of her blue eyes. She paid me a lot of compliments and appeared very astonished that my husband allowed me to associate with men and that he permitted me to appear before them unveiled. She plagued me with childish questions about my sentiments towards my husband, and in her turn she related to me the sensations that she experienced at the time when her husband had two wives; both consorts cried bitterly each night when their Pasha gave his preference to the rival spouse. She told me with a smile of satisfaction that her rival died a few years ago, leaving her an undivided sovereignty over her husband. Harem slavery begins at the age of twelve, till then Turkish girls are as free as European children, but on her twelfth birthday the girl becomes a woman, she adopts the “tchartchaff” and is condemned to see the world darkly through a veil. Henceforth she is a prisoner in the harem.
The negress slave proposed a nigger-boy to me, when suddenly the idea struck her that I should wish to appropriate her little son, and she hastened to warn me that he was a mulatto and not a thoroughbred nigger; she told me that I could order one from Diarbekir, and that he wouldn’t cost more than five hundred francs, and added that I could also procure for myself from that same place a splendid young negress who could speak several languages, but she warned me charitably that these learned negresses were often unprincipled, and dangerous to keep, on account of their propensity to seduce the master of the house! I replied laughingly that in that case I should certainly prefer to buy a nigger boy. When coffee was brought in, the negress and the slave sat down on their heels upon the floor to sip it, they daren’t do it otherwise in the presence of their mistress. After a while the negress asked permission to go and smoke in the corridor; it was only a pretext to have a peep at Sergy and his aide-de-camp, who were just then in the next room. In leaving our house the President’s wife, who had severely remonstrated with the negress for her improper curiosity revealed to her by her little son, could not resist the temptation of stealing a glance at the imprisoned gentlemen through the chink of the door. She invited me to come and see her soon, promising to show me the best dancing girls (bayadères) in Erzeroum.
Now, to turn to the other side of the medal, I must say that during our stay at Erzeroum our roses weren’t entirely without thorns. The typhus-fever continued to rage, and mowed down whole ranks of our soldiers. Every day there were new victims. The Russian cemetery is quite full now, and we are obliged to bury our soldiers in a common grave. Nearly every morning I see sinister waggons carrying away the unfortunate victims of this dreadful epidemic to their last dwelling-place. I shudder when I think of it!
We are warned that a fanatic society under the name of “Avengers” (Christian haters) is newly organised, and that we run great risks during our rides through the bazaars and Turkish quarters.
April 8th.—To-day we revisited the camp of the light-infantry, desiring to see my godson, the newly converted Melakani soldier, who by the way, is several years older than his godmother. I was horrified to hear that he had just been sent to the hospital. Presently, amongst our soldiers, the comparatively healthy ones are only those who have recovered already from the typhus-fever; it is pitiful to see their pale and meagre faces. Mr. Popoff told me that the sight of a Russian woman would help them to forget, for a moment at least, that they find themselves in a strange and hostile land, so far away from their native country.
April 12th.—To-day is Maundy-Thursday. The Catholic Archbishop has invited us to assist at the ceremony of the washing of the feet of twelve little boys belonging to the best Armenian families of Erzeroum. These children dressed in long white garments and wearing crowns of flowers on their heads, had taken their seats on a long bench, covered with red cloth. After having each one bared the right foot, one of the priests poured some water into a golden dish and the Archbishop, in rich sacerdotal vestments, knelt before each of them on one knee, took the bared foot, washed it and dried it with a towel. After this he offered each child a lighted wax-taper and a box of bonbons tied with a green ribbon.
In the evening a service was held in the dwelling of General Heimann, who was in Kars at the present moment, dangerously ill. The reading aloud of the twelve Evangelists by our Russian priest, in this foreign land, to a mass of Russian officers each holding a wax-light, produced a great impression upon me. After the second Evangelist an officer came into the room, a telegram in his hand, and gave it over to my husband who perused the despatch with an air of consternation, and whilst it passed from hand to hand, I noticed the troubled expression of the faces about me. This telegram announced the decease of General Heimann, carried off in five days by the typhus. Is then the prediction of one of our friends going to be realised? He said that we should all die here, and that none of us should see his native land again; the turn of each one is the only thing unknown to us. After the reading of the twelve Evangelists, a requiem was sung for the peace of the soul of General Heimann.
April 13th.—The Russian colony at Erzeroum decided to celebrate the Easter-night ceremony with great pomp; a rather difficult thing to do in this Mussulman country. An attempt was made to illuminate the streets leading to the Greek cathedral, but the inhabitants hadn’t the slightest idea how to do it, and it was our house only which was lighted with lanterns taken from “mosques.” When my husband had put on his uniform and red ribbon, we proceeded to church on horseback, in complete obscurity, with a dozen Cossacks and zaptiehs to protect us. It is very sad to feel oneself in a Mussulman country on this great Christian feast. Nothing recalls to mind the customary animation of that holy night; the streets are so dark and silent! On approaching the cathedral we saw a detachment of Russian soldiers standing under arms. The church was illuminated a giorno and filled with officers, soldiers and Christian inhabitants, the latter take off their fezzes now in church, which they didn’t dare to do before the entry of the Russians into Erzeroum. In a corner of the cathedral lay heaps of painted eggs and Easter-cakes brought by our soldiers to be blessed. Cannons were fired; the first shot was at midnight precisely. After mass, my husband invited all the Russian colony to supper. Our guests left us only at five o’clock in the morning.
April 14th.—On waking this morning I heard men’s voices singing in chorus “Christ is risen!” It was a group of Cossacks who had come to congratulate us with Easter-Sunday. Later on, from ten o’clock, visitors of different nationalities continued to arrive until dinner-time.
It is reported that the Turks circulate exaggerated rumours about the pitiful state of our troops and say that the moment for revenge against the Christians has come. What troublesome times we are living through, good God!
The Mussulmans had the custom of firing guns through the whole night during the eclipses of the moon, but my husband has forbidden this now, in order not to frighten the Christians.
April 17th.—It is the birthday of our Emperor to-day. After a Te Deum in the Greek cathedral, there was a great review of our troops on the square; four military bands executed our national hymn, whilst our soldiers acclaimed their sovereign enthusiastically. The square was crowded with lookers-on. Egueshi caught the drift of a dialogue between an Armenian and a Turk; the Turk announced, pointing to the citadel from whence discharges were heard: “The Russians are unable,” said he, “to frighten us with their cannon-shots, one sees directly that these cannons are not Turkish ones for they make too little noise.”
“You are much mistaken,” broke in the Armenian. “They are precisely Turkish cannons, and it is Maksoud Effendi who has procured the gunpowder.”
“Ah! now I see the reason why we are able to hear these cannon-shots, for if they were Russian guns, they would not be heard at all from the citadel,” concluded the Osmanlie, not a bit disconcerted.
In the afternoon the members of the Town Council came in to congratulate my husband on the occasion of to-day’s solemnity; their President, Mehamet-Ali-Bey was accompanied by a group of white-turbaned “mollahs.” Sergy made a long speech to them, translated by Egueshi. He thanked them for their activity, for the order that they maintained in the town, and promised them to express to Ismail-Pasha his gratitude for having chosen such worthy members for the municipal council; he ended his speech by telling them that the Russians occupied Erzeroum by the will of God, and that it was the duty of all the inhabitants to submit to their destiny and to strictly obey our authorities. My husband made a rich present to Ali-Effendi in the name of the Russian government; he gave him a beautiful gold snuff-box, adorned with diamonds which cost 4000 francs.
I didn’t go out to-day, having to superintend the preparations for the official dinner that Sergy gave to the Russian and Turkish authorities. The table was richly decorated with flowers and fruits brought from Tartoum, where they are admirably preserved; last year’s pears are still quite fresh. At about six o’clock the musicians mounted on to the roof of the opposite house by a ladder against the wall one after the other; street-lads climbed up after them in such numbers that one was obliged to turn them out for fear of the roof falling in. Another band was placed in the street just under our balcony. From my window I saw the Persian Consul approaching on his beautiful white Arab; in a few moments our drawing-room was full of guests. My husband placed himself at the centre of the table, having on one side the Metropolitan and on the other the Armenian Archbishop; I was sitting opposite. The dinner was very animated, much champagne was drunk. Maksoud-Effendi consumed this stimulating beverage more than anyone; he embraced his neighbour, Prince Tchavtchavadze, and exclaimed in a transport of tenderness: “If war had continued, I would have killed you, perhaps, but now I kiss you with all my heart!” My husband gave the first toast and drank to the health of our Emperor; everybody stood up crying out “Hurra!” After that Sergy exclaimed: “I drink to the duration of peace between Russia and the friendly powers, France, Turkey and Persia, as well as to the health of their representatives here present!”
The Metropolitan pronounced a long discourse in Armenian that Egueshi translated to us; he said that the Emperor of Russia had always been regarded with deep love and respect by the whole Christian population of Asia, and that he, consequently, proposed a toast to the health of our Monarch in the name of all the Armenians. Ali-Effendi, taking offence, proposed to drink the health of our Emperor in the name of all the Asiatic nationalities, without distinction of religion, as he could not admit any difference between them. The Metropolitan, wishing to expiate his awkwardness, held up his glass to Ali-Effendi, but the offended Osmanlie feigned not to notice it, and removed his glass. Never will the Koran and the Gospel, evidently, live in peace in Asia! Mons. Gilbert, in his turn, after having spoken of the sympathy that existed between France and Russia, exclaimed, “Long live Russia!” and my husband replied immediately, “Long live France!” The Catholic Archbishop said something very eloquent but rather incomprehensible. The last toast was drunk by Sergy to the prosperity of Erzeroum, whatever fate should befall it. After dinner we went out on the balcony and listened to the different potpourris on Russian national airs executed by our military bands. At our appearance hundreds of voices exclaimed, “Long live the Emperor of Russia!” It was night when the musicians returned to their camp, playing marches all the time. They were followed by a throng of street boys who carried their cymbals and their rolls of music.
April 18th.—On waking this morning I saw the street covered with snow, which continued to fall in big flakes, and it is spring in Russia now! Country, people, climate, everything is so gloomy out here!
In the afternoon I went on horseback to return my visit to the wife of the President of the Town Council. Mme. Gilbert followed with Helena in a cart procured by our ambulance people. Eleonora had entreated her father to allow her to accompany us, but he refused outright, saying that if the question was of visiting an Armenian or Greek family, he would have willingly given his consent, but he would certainly never allow his daughter to enter a Turkish harem.
The President’s wife met us at the entrance door and led us into her private apartments, furnished in Turkish style with low sofas all round the walls, on which sat, cross-legged, five Bayadères dressed in green and pink robes; their faces were painted white and red, and their nails dyed with henna juice. After a slight collation, which consisted of coffee and different sorts of preserves served in silver vases, the Bayadères began to dance, clinking castanettes. Four music-girls sat on the floor and played the daira, a sort of cithern. Brandy and champagne was offered to the Bayadères to put them into still more depraved spirits, and they began to dance unlike anything I had ever seen. The master of the house who sat in the next room with a score of male friends left his door ajar, and the sight of these men inflamed the dancing-girls still more, and they took such liberties that I didn’t dare to raise my eyes from the carpet. When the Bayadères approached Helena, making indecent gestures, my poor old nurse pushed them back, her eyes flashing indignantly. Her speechless horror amused me enormously, and it was a mercy that from the place where I sat I hadn’t Mme. Gilbert to exchange glances with, or I couldn’t have remained serious. Our hostess seemed astonished at Helena’s repulse and asked why she did it, and if it was contrary to her religion? Anyone who reads this will suppose that I am describing a house of ill fame, but, on the contrary, it is one of the most respectable houses in Erzeroum, and all these enormities are of the exigencies of harem life. The little son of our hostess, aged twelve, an awfully vicious brat, was incapable of concealing the ardour with which he was gazing upon the contortions of the Bayadères; he hardly heard when he was spoken to.
Dinner was served à la franca, but there were knives and forks for us only, our hosts did very well without them, helping themselves with their fingers. The meal consisted of a score of meat and sweet dishes intermingled. I did not know what I was eating, but was compelled to taste everything, to refuse would be a great offence to our hostess, and I resigned myself to swallow all sorts of nasty things. Our hostess, according to the custom of the country, tasted every dish before it was served to her guests, in order to prove that it wasn’t poisoned. During the meal the son of our hostess behaved abominably. He tyrannised over the poor little mulatto, the son of the negress slave, and was awfully rude to his mother, daring to call her in our presence kiopek, which means dog in Turkish. After dinner a large copper basin was brought in to wash our hands, after which the dances were renewed. The face of one of the Bayadères was completely veiled. I was told that this woman had formerly been a prostitute. She is married now, but all the same she is obliged to cover her face in remembrance of her bad life. When the time came to bid good-bye to our hostess, I wanted to give a bakshish (a tip) to the dancing-girls, but she objected to this and told me that I had far better invite them to come and dance in our house. I promised to do it one of these days. I could not possibly imagine that our hostess’s son, the perverse little despot, could show himself such a gallant cavalier towards me. In parting he wanted absolutely to kiss me, and declared that at first he had detested the Russians, but now he had seen me, he liked me so much that his most ardent wish was that the Russians would remain for ever in Erzeroum.
April 23rd.—To-day is the feast of the sapper battalion. Their chief, Prince Toumanoff, begged me to assist at the Te Deum performed on their camp, telling me that my presence would be a great treat to his officers and soldiers. I couldn’t refuse his friendly invitation, and proceeded on horseback to the camp. When prayers were over, the officers invited me to partake of their repast served in a big tent. After Prince Toumanoff had drunk my health, I took my courage in both hands and gave a toast to the hospitality of our amiable hosts. An awful uproar arose, the officers called for three cheers for me and the soldiers cried “Hurra,” throwing their caps in the air. A small bazaar was just opposite the tent, with nuts, plums, apples and different sweetmeats; Sergy bought the whole contents and dealt them out to the soldiers.
At seven o’clock the sappers gave a banquet in the apartments of the deceased General Heimann. I begged for Mme. Gilbert to be invited to that dinner, so as not to be the only woman at that festival. Again numerous toasts were given. Doctor Reitlinger, a thorough Dorpat student, stood on a chair and gave a long discourse in praise of Erzeroum. When he had ended, Prince Toumanoff exclaimed that he had forgotten to mention in his panegyrics the most important point of all, namely, that Paradise happened to be only a few miles off from here. Everybody laughed, for the neighbourhood of Paradise was not perceptible in Erzeroum as we dabbled in mud and snow close by this Paradise, whilst it was already spring-time in Russia.
When we got home I went directly to bed, and was just falling asleep when the sounds of a march playing under our windows awakened me. It proved to be a group of sapper officers who had come to serenade me for having taken part at their festival.
April 30th.—I have been unwell all these days and was obliged to remain in bed. Yesterday I felt well enough to leave my room, and Mme. Gilbert hastened to call on me. She threw her arms round my neck and nearly strangled me with kisses, having been awfully anxious about me, for when one falls ill in this blessed country, one is sent beforehand ad patres.
April 31st.—I called to-day on Signora Lavini, a curious specimen of a Turkified European woman. She is the wife of an Italian druggist, who has lived here for many years. Their daughter was born and educated in Erzeroum, of which one is easily aware by her moral development. Nevertheless her parents seem very proud of their offspring; they called her up to exhibit her musical accomplishments before us. The young virtuose betook herself to the piano, and first played some scales on the elderly instrument shockingly out of tune, toiling up and down the piano, and giving her wrist and arm a tremendous jerk every time it was her thumbs turn to go under. She ended her musical performance by the traditional Cloches du Monastère.
Profiting by the improvement of the roads, a great number of Turkish officers hasten to Erzeroum to see their families.
As soon as the pasture grounds were covered with grass, bands of brigands, belonging to the Kurdish tribe, began to appear. The Ottoman administration has tolerated the exploits of these highwaymen till now, especially the deeds of a well known bandit named Mirza-Bek, who carried in his expeditions his favourite wife, a young Circassian dressed in masculine clothes; but we cannot maintain the same indifference to be sure! Last night there was a robbery connected with murder in a village near Erzeroum; the villains were immediately found and arrested. I saw them this morning brought up to my husband, under a great escort. Oh, how awful-looking they were! All in rags, with dark vicious faces and rapacious glances resembling those of the hyena who dreads daylight and human beings. We have been warned that a band of Kurds are going to assault the cloister of “Kermirvank”; my husband has sent a dozen Cossacks there and the would-be brave highwaymen hastened to run away. It seems that the Kurds venture upon robbery-expeditions only when they are sure of their grounds.
May 1st.—Our policemaster Kamsarakan organises all sorts of amusements for me; to-day, for instance, in honour of the 1st of May, he arranged a picnic out on the side of the Tap-Dagh. The Cossacks made a great fire and we roasted potatoes and boiled water for our tea, after which we sat down on carpets and did full justice to the contents of our luncheon baskets. Crowds of people from the surrounding villages had gathered around, and a mob of Armenian peasants organised a village-dance. We followed their example, trying our feet in a waltz on the uneven ground, the train of my long habit being very much in my way. A functionary of the intendance, an enormous giant, looked so comic waltzing with a tiny officer, who was scarcely up to his shoulder; it seemed all the time as if he wanted to swallow up his undersized partner, or to jump over his head. A group of Armenian urchins, armed with sticks instead of guns, appeared under the command of a little chief, wearing a Russian cap on his head and paper epaulettes; they looked like small lead-warriors taken out of a toy box. These boys executed all sorts of military evolutions, mimicking the training of our soldiers.
On our way home we visited a Turkish Coffee house. We entered a paved courtyard with a fountain basin in the middle, surrounded by big yellow flowers. The customers were sitting around the basin on low cushions; some of them were sipping their coffee and others smoked their narghile, passing it by turns from neighbour to neighbour. Thus occupied, the Turkish smokers pondered meditatively, whilst the Greeks and the Armenians argued about their commercial affairs. This coffee-house consists of several lofty rooms. In one of them the proprietor was sitting proudly behind his bar; a quantity of narghiles of all dimensions, richly adorned with gold and silver ornaments, lay in rows on the shelves fixed all around the wall. In the next room a barber worked, shaving a greater number of skulls than beards.
May 5th.—A Russian employer has been insulted this morning by an individual serving in the Persian Consulate, who called him a lot of bad names. The man came to complain to my husband just when the Persian Consul was announced. The culpable Persian was speedily sent for and brought in under the escort of a Russian gendarme and a Turkish kavass. The interview was not pleasant. Sergy told the Persian that it was only out of regard to his Consul that a severe punishment was not imposed upon him by the Russian authorities; he was handed over entirely to the discretion of his Consul.
May 8th.—Yesterday we went to a ball given at the Casino, the building of the ancient “seraglio,” where all the festivities were organised before, being now transformed into a hospital for the Turkish wounded soldiers. This ball was to be a grand affair, the arrangements were splendid; the ball-room was fitted up as a big Turkish tent, decorated with plants and flowers. I had to sign a large packet of invitations for that ball, printed on gilt-edged paper, which indicated a long sojourn in the shop by its yellowish colour. This ball sowed discord in many Armenian families; the fair sex wanted to assist at it but the unfair protested energetically. Bulerian, one of the richest Armenians of Erzeroum, had proclaimed publicly that his compatriots who dared to conduct their families to that ball would have to pay dearly for it when Erzeroum was given back to the Turks. Bulerian was responsible for his reckless speech; after having been smartly lectured for it, he has undergone the most infamous Asiatic punishment, which was, being forbidden to mount his horse for a whole month.
The ball was a great success, and the whole entertainment went off admirably. Many Christian inhabitants brought their families to this ball; elderly Armenians and Greek matrons, gorgeously dressed, sat against the wall, and watched our dancing. Supper was served for two hundred persons, and continued till very late. We returned home at dawn, escorted by a military band. We had two Turks at dinner to-day, Ismael-Bey and Maksoud-Effendi. I could hardly keep from laughing in looking at the desperate efforts that they made in serving themselves with their knives and forks; how gladly they would have thrown away these instruments of torture to be able to tear their meat with their fingers!
May 30th.—This afternoon we made an excursion to the banks of the Euphrates. After having made about five miles on horseback, we arrived at a sort of paved dike, which seemed to have been built by giants; the stones are so enormous that it is quite incomprehensible how human beings could handle them. For many centuries whole generations have gone over this ancient dike without its being necessary to mend it. The Euphrates is very broad in this part, and in full rise just now. Frogs were croaking around us, and whole flocks of wild geese dived about ten steps from us; their tranquillity, as it seems, is rarely troubled by musket-shots. On the middle of the river a boatman was rowing his yawl, cut out of the trunk of an enormous tree, with a long perch.
On our way home we stopped at “Kian,” a small village where we created a great sensation, and were stared at as if we were beings from another world. The women crowded around; one of them determined to examine me closely grasped my arm exclaiming, “I have touched her, she is alive!” (Did she suppose that I was a wax-doll?)
May 11th.—This morning a Turkish woman, holding a small boy dressed in the uniform of a pasha by the hand, has come with a petition to my husband. She began to relate different exploits of her ancestors, and concluded her long narrative by requesting Sergy to procure her means to return to Constantinople, her native town. Sergy tried to explain to her that the services rendered by her forefathers had nothing to do with the Russian government, but she continued to beg, and having received the sum that she requested, she whispered something to her little son, who came up to our interpreter and announced to him that he too, wanted a bakshish.
We went to visit the Christian schools in the afternoon. In the Catholic school one directly sees the active intervention of the clergy. The Archbishop Melchisedec takes a great part in the education of the children; the director and the tutors are all priests. The best scholars are sent to Rome and Venice to finish their studies. The pupils repeated compliments of welcome to us in French, and expressed their gratitude to our Emperor for the protection that His Majesty accorded to the Christian inhabitants of Erzeroum. The Greek school is also considered as a part of the church, but the priests do not assist in the teaching. The director of this school showed us his establishment in detail. It contains two hundred scholars of both sexes. Till the age of twelve boys and girls study together; they are taught both Greek and Turkish. This school being of the Orthodox creed, received a monthly subsidy of fifteen francs before the beginning of the war, now my husband has offered the sum of four thousand francs yearly as a support to the school. In the evening the Greek deputy came to thank Sergy for this rich offering; they told him that the remembrance of his generosity would remain for ever in their hearts as also in the hearts of their children.
May 14th.—My husband has received an important despatch from Constantinople, a circular of orders from the “Grand Vizir” to the high Turkish functionaries. Sergy thus acts the part of an Ottoman Pasha, which amuses me greatly.
After dinner we rode over to Abdurakman-Kazi, an antique mosque containing the mausoleum of a renowned Turkish saint and also a score of rooms for pilgrims. This monastery, on the mountain side looks splendid.
May 15th.—Yesterday on our way home from the cloister of Abdurakman-Kazi, we saw on our way some bomb shells. This morning, a little shepherd turned over one of these shells, which exploded and tore the poor lad to pieces.
May 17th.—Striving to invent all sorts of distractions in order to raise the drooping spirits of our Russian colony, horribly depressed by the epidemic of typhus-fever, we have organised races on a track of three miles. To-day a large crowd of inhabitants surrounded the racing-place. There were seven concurrent events—five Cossack and two native. When they started I followed them attentively, fearing to see our Cossacks outridden by the Turks. To my great joy a young Cossack gained the first prize, the sum of four hundred francs. He mounted a tiny insignificant-looking horse that he had bought at Khiva for forty francs. The Cossack was accompanied up to town in triumph by a big crowd, and two military bands.
May 21st.—The benediction of the common tomb of the soldiers of the regiment of Bakou, killed during the assault of the fort Azizie, took place this morning. A year has glided away, the fate of Erzeroum has changed, and this same regiment of Bakou holds garrison now in this fort.
Egueshi related to us the cruelties committed by the Mussulmans during that siege. He pointed out a Turkish woman who had cut the throats of many wounded Russian soldiers, thus avenging herself for the death of her husband on the battle field. The enormous tomb has been done up with stones, and a big wooden cross is fixed in the middle.
During the Requiem, at which I assisted on horseback, all the soldiers knelt down and prayed fervently for their comrades, the brave warriors who are sleeping their eternal sleep in this Mussulman ground.
After dinner we arranged an expedition to the monastery of Loussavoritch-Vank, situated about six miles outside the town. This monastery, built on the top of a high mountain and surrounded by a stone-wall, resembles a castle of the middle-ages. Three sides of this cloister are perpendicular and the fourth one, by which one mounts, is planted with a row of fine trees, an agreeable contrast to the rocky scenery all around. Two monks composed the whole establishment; one of them, at our approach, began to toll a bell, whilst his companion came out to meet us, holding a big silver cross in his hand. He led us into the church, where he performed a Te Deum and made us descend afterwards into a dark dungeon where, according to a legend, Saint-Gregory, the propagator of Christianity, had taken refuge during the persecution of the Christians. We also visited an antique underground church, making our way to it by narrow dark passages. I drew a long breath when I found myself in the open air once more. On our way home we were overtaken by a terrible thunderstorm, which didn’t last long, but was followed by a dreadful shower of rain. We put on mackintoshes with caps, which made us look like highwaymen, but we all got a thorough drenching, nevertheless.
May 27th.—The snow in the mountains transforms itself when thawing into big clouds, and it pours with rain nearly every day. The top of the “Palantek” is a capital weather-prophet; when there are no clouds on the summit, even if the sky is heavy all around, it will not rain that day, and vice versa. From our sitting-room one can watch the mountains, and this barometer is of great use to us during our rides.
There was an awful storm last night; the wind shook our house to its very foundation, it seemed as though it must be caught up and hurled headlong. I’ve never seen such dazzling flashes of lightning before, nor heard such formidable thunderbolts reverberating loudly with an echo in the mountains. I was in a terrible fright all the time lest the flag-staff, put on the top of our roof, would be struck by lightning. The rain came in through the ceilings; I can well imagine what was taking place in the other houses in Erzeroum which had no clay roofs like ours.
May 28th.—A very disagreeable incident occurred last night, a musket-ball whizzed close past the sentry on duty near the guard-house. Investigations were made and the inhabitants handed over a Turkish solider this morning, who said that in jumping over a wall he had awkwardly let fall his gun, which fired itself. The culprit is arrested.
During our evening ride along the line of the fortifications, a bullet flew past me and made my horse start. The misunderstanding explained itself. The Cossacks of our escort were ready to retaliate, when it proved to be simply a Russian officer who, shooting at a target, did not perceive that his bullets passed over the ramparts. All the same it is evident that I stood in imminent danger of being shot through the body, and feel myself trained up in war now, having experienced the baptism of fire, which is a very peculiar feeling, indeed!
May 29th.—Troubles have arisen again. There has been a fresh underhand musket-shot which took place in town this morning. This time the ball lodged itself in the wall of a house inhabited by one of our functionaries. A group of “imams” from different parts of Erzeroum were gathered, and the order was given to them to find out the culprit, under the threat of making the whole Mussulman quarter responsible for his misdeed, and to deliver him immediately into the hands of the Russian authorities, as also all the fire-arms that the Turkish government had dealt out to the inhabitants during the blockade of Erzeroum. The “imams” listened woefully to the proclamation of that severe decree, and presented, a few hours later as culprit, the single Christian inhabitant of their quarter; it is quite evident that they accuse him wrongfully.
There came a telegram to-day which announced that a ratification of peace was going to be opened in Berlin on the 12th of June. That’s a new gleam of hope that we shall soon leave Erzeroum.
I have often heard military bands playing in the streets of Erzeroum, but they generally executed funeral marches, whilst platoons of soldiers accompanied their chiefs, victims of the terrible epidemic, to their last dwelling-place, and one can easily conceive my joy when I perceived from my window the first detachment destined to reinforce our army, entering Erzeroum this morning, preceded by a military band. The Mussulmans must be very much annoyed to see our troops increasing, as up till now the number of our soldiers diminished every day.
May 30th.—The Persian Consul presented Sergy with the portrait of the Shah and a piece of poetry which states that this portrait is given to the Russian governor of Erzeroum in token of gratitude for his kindness to the Persian inhabitants.
Though the sky was perfectly clear this evening, Egueshi warned us, pointing to the “Palantek,” that there would be a shower before long, but we, all the same, started on our habitual ride, but had not gone half a mile when there came the rumble of thunder from afar; a flash of lightning shot across the sky and the rain came down in torrents. We galloped at full speed towards the village of Shakk, not far off, and took refuge under the roof of an old Armenian priest. On the walls of his parlour hung a whole gallery of pictures cut from French illustrated papers, representing chiefly heroes of the Russo-Turkish war, a present left for our host by a Russian officer who had put up at his house for a time. I wonder if the originals of these portraits will ever know that their visages adorn the walls of a humble cottage situated in one of the remotest parts of Asia Minor. On our way home we admired the beautiful growth of the wheat; the plain of Erzeroum being abundantly irrigated, the harvests are usually splendid, everything looks so green and fresh.
May 31st.—Storm clouds gathered again on the heights of the “Palantek” this evening. We had scarcely reached the camp when large drops began to fall and the storm came down in rolling thunder and lashing rain. Sergy hurried me into a great coat but nevertheless I got wet through. In an instant the whole camp, situated on a declivity, was furrowed by the impetuous torrents, and the water rushed in streams over the ground. When we reached the riflemen’s camp, we dismounted and ran into Mr. Popoff’s tent for shelter until the storm should clear away. In returning we had to go over gutters, which was difficult on account of their being full of foaming water. We saw a drove of cattle returning from the pasture grounds which found itself in great trouble before a usually dry ditch transformed for the moment into a torrent. The shepherds, mounted on donkeys, tried by gestures and voice to force the cattle to enter the water, in order to reach the other bank, but it was no easy matter; the cows ended by obeying, but the donkeys resisted energetically and nothing could be done with them.
The proprietor of the house inhabited by Eritzeff, a Persian who was noted for his vanity, stinginess, and cowardice, was determined to obtain a Russian decoration. He was a fearful bore to his tenant, repeating to him at every favourable moment his desire to be useful to the Russian government. Eritzeff lost his patience at last and determined to play him a trick; he announced confidently to him that he was sent on a serious mission to Bagdad and offered him to be his interpreter; Eritzeff also warned him that he was to fit himself suitably for that long journey. The Persian was delighted and replied that the expenses of equipment would not be a drawback, and in fact he delivered himself, in spite of his stinginess, to mad prodigalities; he bought a horse, a new saddle, a white mackintosh and a pair of yellow jack-boots. His family could not understand whither he was starting, but submitted to Providence, and when the day of departure arrived, they all kissed and cried over him.
A dinner for the sham-parting was given to Eritzeff in the Mussulman monastery of Abdurakman-Kazi, after which our would-be travellers were to start. During the meal a Cossack was to appear and hand over to Eritzeff a counter-order of departure. Unluckily someone had the awkwardness of revealing that plot before the repast began, nevertheless the guests were immensely amused. In fact, the poor Persian was such a picture to look at, equipped in his great mantle, his seven-leagued boots, furnished with gigantic spurs that reached well up to his calves, and armed up to the tip-top, sword and pistols in his sash; he was literally the personification of “Don Quixote.” The poor creature looked as if he wasn’t quite sure at first whether he was standing on his head or on his heels, but he soon controlled himself and bore his disappointment with serene resignation. Trying to put a good face on the matter, he regaled everyone with the big oranges that he had crammed into his pockets to quench his thirst during his long journey, and calling to mind a Persian song named, “I went in three days to Bagdad,” he said good-humouredly. As to me I have made the trip much quicker!
This Persian was the hero of a new pleasant adventure. Last night, returning home, he perceived at the corner of his house someone smoking behind the fountain; only the tip of a lighted cigarette could be seen. “Hello! who goes there?” he challenged the mysterious smoker loudly, but got no answer. “What are you doing there behind that fountain?” Complete silence again. “Brigands for sure!” vociferated the valiant Persian, and dashing into his house he returned reinforced by his servant, provided with a pistol which he pointed at the would-be malefactor, who continued to smoke peacefully. The fact is that there was no brigand whatever; it proved to be simply the tip of a lighted cigarette laid down on the border of the fountain by some nocturnal passer-by.
June 1st.—General Lazareff has come to Erzeroum to replace General Heimann. The Armenian inhabitants awaited him with impatience, very proud that he was the second commander of the main army of their own nationality. From early morning the whole town was put into a fluster; the native women established themselves upon their roofs at daybreak, wishing to see the new Russian mouchir enter Erzeroum. As I also wished to be present, I accepted readily the Gilberts’ invitation to come on their balcony which looked out into the square where the Guards of Honour, and a great number of officers in grand uniform, had assembled. Towards ten o’clock we heard the clamour of hurras and soon perceived a crowd of inhabitants coming up, followed by two hundred Cossacks with big banners; behind them rode General Lazareff, accompanied by a numerous suite.
June 5th.—Kirkor-Effendi Schabanian gave an evening-party to-day. We remained in his fantastic garden, illuminated with many coloured lanterns, till late, admiring the gorgeous costumes of his Asiatic guests who promenaded round a marble fountain full of goldfish. It was all like a scene from the Arabian nights.
June 9th.—This morning we have visited the mill of Kireh-Bulak, the prettiest spot in the neighbourhood, situated in a narrow pass about eight miles from town. We brought our luncheon with us, hard boiled eggs, biscuits and salt in an envelope, and ate it with great appetite in this nice, cool resting-place. Large trees grow all around and a rapid torrent falls from high cliffs in a roaring cascade white with foam; the noise of the mill at work sounded close by.
June 10th.—To-day a gala banquet was given at the Casino by Ali-Effendi. The most cordial union seemed to reign between the Russians and Mussulmans, but was it all very sincere? At the end of the repast, when the champagne had loosened the tongues and quickened the spirits, Maksoud-Effendi came up to the Persian Consul, glass in hand, and proposed to drink to his health, but the Persian, a water-drinker, like every good Mussulman, refused the toast, at which Maksoud-Effendi took offence, and flying into a passion, dashed the contents of his glass into the face of the astounded Persian and vociferated with furious eyes and face aflame: “Ah, you wouldn’t drink to my health by mere politeness, well, do it now by mere force!” The Consul started up wiping his face and his clothes, muttering a prayer to be purified from the stains of wine.
June 12th.—To-day passing before the Casino, M. Gilbert witnessed a completely unusual event. He saw a mounted Cossack officer climbing up the steep wooden staircase leading into the Casino; after having made a tour through all the apartments that officer returned the same way, without having run against anyone or anything. This equestrian prank made a strong impression upon a group of Turks who were standing in the street, they said that only a Cossack officer was capable of such a wild deed, because in their opinion all the Cossacks were possessed by the schaitan (the devil).
A fancy took me to drive with Mme. Gilbert to the monastery of Abdurakman-Kazi in an araba, a cart drawn by a pair of oxen, for thousands of years the unchanged mode of conveyance in Turkey, a mode of locomotion more comfortable than dignified, to be sure. The araba was furnished with carpets and cushions, and the oxen adorned with flowers and ribbons. I undertook to perform the part of driver, and succeeded to put my phlegmatic bullocks into a sharp trot.
June 20th.—Last night we visited the village of Laouk, inhabited by Christians and Mussulmans. My husband asked a white-bearded “imam” if the Armenians and the Turks lived on good terms with each other, and that old Osmanlie for answer, in order to prove his affection, tenderly embraced an Armenian priest who stood by. I wonder if these individuals will kiss each other when the Turks have re-entered Erzeroum!
June 22nd.—About a hundred fierce-looking men, who had formerly belonged to the brigand band of the famous Mechrali, assembled before our house after dinner with their chief, Temir-Aga, who is seventy years old but still as brisk and nimble as a young man. He had previously been chief of a band of highwaymen who had spread terror through all Anatolia about twenty years before. The Turkish Government could find no other means to subdue him than to appoint him chief of one of the districts in the province of Erzeroum. Temir-Aga profited by every available occasion to assure my husband of his entire devotedness. Sergy sent for these men to ascertain that they had received their soldiers’ pay regularly. They were not pleasant men to meet in a dark lane, and are to be watched closely all the time, in order to prevent them from troubling the peace of the citizens.
July 4th.—There has been a conflict between a band of Kurds and Turks about twenty miles from Erzeroum; about a dozen Kurds were wounded and the rest of them made prisoners. Temir-Aga, who captured these highwaymen, brought them over to my husband this morning. I saw them advancing slowly towards our house, between a body-guard of Turkish soldiers, with their hands fastened behind their backs, having awfully ferocious expressions.
July 6th.—This morning we heard the welcome tidings that a private agreement had been decided upon between Russia, England and Prussia. God grant war won’t begin anew!
To-day, in spite of the peaceful issue of the Congress in Berlin, a violent fighting broke out in Erzeroum between the Christian and Mussulman street-boys. The Armenians fought energetically and knocked down their adversaries, shouting, “Long live the Emperor of Russia!”
Time is going on and we are still in Erzeroum, and though the certitude that war won’t begin anew tranquillises me, still the ignorance in which we find ourselves about the time of our departure is very hard to bear.
The Catholic Archbishop invited us to assist at the distribution of prizes at his school. After we were seated at the head of a long table, the Sisters of Mercy presented to us the pupils deserving prizes, and I had to adorn them with crowns of flowers. After that the pupils played on the piano to us and recited French and Armenian poetry; then the Archbishop led us into his library which contains rare and curious books, amidst which we saw a manuscript of the Lord’s prayer written in fifty different languages.
July 10th.—The influence which the Russians exercise on the outward life of the Christian population is so great that the Armenian inhabitants have decided to organise a theatre in Erzeroum, an ignored luxury at the time of the sovereignty of the Turks. A stage with a score of boxes has been built in a spacious cart-house; the curtain represents an allegory of Armenia amidst a heap of ruins. In these amateur performances all the women’s parts are played by men.
August 1st.—According to a Turkish legend, the eclipse of the moon proceeds from a “Flying Dragon” attempting to swallow up that planet. In order to prevent the monster from realising his sinister project, the native women climb on to their roofs and make a dreadful noise with different brass instruments to frighten the “Dragon” away, whilst the men discharge a number of musket-shots. Yesterday, for instance, there was an eclipse, but this time the inhabitants were strictly forbidden to shoot.