102. ADAPAZAR: STATEMENT, DATED 24th SEPTEMBER, 1915, BY A FOREIGN RESIDENT IN TURKEY; COMMUNICATED BY THE AMERICAN COMMITTEE FOR ARMENIAN AND SYRIAN RELIEF.
On the 1st August the beating began in the church. The object of this was to force the people to bring in any ammunition and firearms they might have. Most of the people accepted their fate in silence, but one man said boldly: “You must answer to God in heaven for these things.”
“What do I care for your God in heaven? He says you are good people and I must not beat you; but he is not good, we must kill him.”
A mother threw herself in front of her consumptive son, and herself received the stripes. A German woman tried to save her Armenian husband. “Get out of the way or I will beat you,” cried the Beast. “I don’t care for the Emperor himself; my orders come from Talaat Bey.”
Some Armenian ladies came to intercede with the Beast, and for a day or two the beatings were less vigorous.
Then came the awful Saturday, the day of darkness and horror. Women came to our house saying: “They are beating the Armenian men to death, and they are going to beat the women next!” I ran to a neighbour’s house and there found men and women crying. The Protestant brethren had gotten out of the church and were telling their story. “They are beating the men frightfully,” they cried. “They say they will throw us into the River Sakaria; they will send us into exile; they will make Mohammedans of us; they will beat our women next; they are coming to the house.”
“Come to the school and I will put up the American flag,” I said. Soon after, more women came to the school to find out if I could do something.
“We will go to the mayor; we will go to the Beast,” said they, “and we are all losing our heads!”
Then our woman doctor came, crying frightfully. She had been down to the church to care for the wounded. Then the trustee came. “I want you to take my money and give it to my son if I die,” said he. Then he sat down and wept, the tears rolling down his face.
At last I could endure it no longer. “I am going to the church; I do not care what you say,” I exclaimed. I did not know the way and every one was afraid to show me, but I found it by inquiring. One man said: “You are going to the church? It is hell there.” I arrived and walked past the guards at the gate without looking at them, and came to the door and lo, one of the trustees came to meet me. We walked up and down the church together and he remarked: “I think the police do not like to see you.” I said: “They had better not; I am going to America to tell of all these things.” He said there was one Turkish soldier outside the church in tears. He said he had been crying three days and nights because of the awful treatment of the Armenian people. Some of the people were shut up ten days in the church, but special favour was shown to the Protestants; none were beaten, and they had more liberty to go in and out. During all this time the Armenian shops were closed, and Armenians were not allowed to go to market to buy food or even to their gardens to gather their fruits, so that many were on the verge of starvation.
Three days after this the beating ceased and we were beginning to take courage again; a few Armenian shops were opened; but the next morning early, which was Sunday, news came that all the Armenians in Adapazar, numbering about 25,000, were to be sent into exile. They were to go to Konia by freight train, if they could pay their passage, and then to Mosul by carriage—on foot a journey of weeks and months. Such awful stories came to us about things that had happened to those who went on foot, that people sold their last possessions to get enough to pay their train passage. They were afraid to take money with them. The poor had none to take; the rich must leave all their property behind. If they took money they feared violence. By Wednesday there were no goods trains to send them by, as so many had gone, but all the people were turned out into the streets to await their turn—many for several days—except the Protestants, who were allowed to come to the Protestant church to wait, while some of the wealthy people remained in their houses. The Protestants, in Adapazar especially, were in good favour with the Government, and their condition is somewhat hopeful.
A card has been received, written three weeks after the exile began, from Eski Shehr, telling how some of the Protestants in the hotel there were allowed to have their church services on Sunday and were being well treated. They thought it possible that they might be able to rent houses and remain there. If this is indeed true it will be a very great blessing.