112. Q.: LETTER, DATED Q., 25th NOVEMBER, 1915, FROM DR. E. TO MR. N. AT CONSTANTINOPLE; COMMUNICATED BY THE AMERICAN COMMITTEE FOR ARMENIAN AND SYRIAN RELIEF.
Profiting by a medical call to Bozanti to see the family of a railway employee, I have at last had a chance which I have been waiting for for some time, namely, to investigate the conditions to the south-east of us. The journey there and back was very tedious and disagreeable; the locomotives burn only wood, and the trains take just about twice the ordinary time to cover the distance. About every three or four hours the train has to stop to load wood on the tender, and when it comes to a steep grade the train has to be divided into two, the locomotive taking up half of it and then returning for the other half. There is still transportation of Armenians going on, but most of the movement is in the other direction, great numbers of raw Arab recruits being brought from Syria and the Hauran and sent on to Eski Shehr and Constantinople. The men are of the wildest type, thinly clad, many of them having neither shoes nor stockings. They suffer greatly from the cold, which is already becoming severe, and are treated with great brutality by their officers, whom I saw beating and stoning and cursing them all along the way.
Leaving on Sunday, the 21st, I spent the next day at P. There were about 2,000 exiles there, of whom about a third had permission from the Government to remain on account of being artizans or, in the cases of women and children, of being members of soldiers’ families. The remainder were more or less under the ban, and were dragging out a wretched existence dodging the police, but preferring such a life to the fate of being sent on into the mountains to starve. The artizans above-mentioned were receiving a loaf of bread a day from the Government and being forced to work for nothing; also the soldiers’ families were receiving rations, but in no case sufficient. I heard many stories of how the Armenians had been refused transportation by train, and had been forced to hire wagons at exorbitant rates, ten liras and more from P. to Tarsus, or else had been driven off on foot, leaving most of their belongings behind them. I saw great piles of baggage heaped up at the station, at least five or six hundred pieces, that had been abandoned, and was told that probably there had been three thousand in all. Most of this property had been confiscated as “metrouk” (abandoned) and had been partitioned among the officials or sold, while a good deal had been stolen by the Turks in the town. About a hundred children had been abandoned on account of sickness or of their being too young to walk. The Turks had taken all but about twenty of these and adopted them as Moslems, and I found the remainder of them in the care of a poor Armenian woman, who with the help of some of the Armenians in the town was trying to look after them. They were all in a dark, wretched room, about nine by twelve feet—miserable specimens of humanity they were. Seven of them in that room actually looked sick, and all of them pinched and pale and insufficiently clothed. The kind-hearted woman in charge was not only nursing a baby of her own but actually trying to make her small supply of milk suffice for two of the littlest refugees as well, who were sick and for whom there was no cow’s milk to be had. Being in such wretched condition they were not much in demand, but from time to time, she told me, the Turks would come round to see if there were any worth taking off, especially girls. The Government was doing absolutely nothing for these children.
Deportation in P. was still in progress, about a hundred wagon-loads of people having been driven off a few days before I arrived. One of the parties, consisting of husband, wife, two boys and one girl, had been set upon near BE. by robbers. Upon some resistance being offered by the man, the whole party was stabbed to death, the little girl of six years having first been foully outraged. This story is authentic, and the Government is now making investigation and promises to punish the “guilty” when they are found.
Near the station I found about two hundred people who had been driven out of the town, and were crowded into a couple of abandoned and tumble-down houses, in filth and misery indescribable. I started to look at the sick, but gave it up as a bad job, as almost all were sick and no medicine would make them well as long as they were obliged to live under such conditions. There were a few tents spread outside on the frozen ground, and the condition of the people in them was about the same as that of those in the houses. In the evening, when I took the train, some of the people were trying to buy tickets, when I saw an officer deliberately pulling them away from the window and beckoning to Turks to take their places and to their friends to crowd about the window, apparently with the intention of delaying the Armenians so that they should miss the train, which now takes passengers only once a week. I managed to crowd in and buy tickets for four of them, the officer meanwhile telling the rest of them that there were no tickets for them that night. Fortunately the train was so late that I think all must have eventually gotten tickets. This in itself is a small incident, but is a sample of the continual nagging and harassing that is going on when there is no opportunity to do something worse. The regular resident Armenians of P. have for the most part been allowed to remain, through the goodwill of the Kaimakam, but are, of course, subjected to constant nagging. They are frequently invited to become Moslems, and even J. Effendi, who is a Protestant, is nagged by one of the Turkish officials, who is trying to get his youngest daughter to marry him. All Armenians there are in great anxiety and fear, and I could see that they were nervous about being seen with me, so that I had some difficulty in seeing and hearing what I wanted. In Q. they seem to take a great deal of comfort in our presence in the city and in being able to apply to us in a way that does not excite suspicion. Also, some of the police are our friends and refrain from making trouble.
Going on to Bozanti, I found only about 250 refugees. These were scattered along the long valley that leads towards Tarsus, and were altogether the most wretched of the exiles that I have yet seen. They are the remnants of the vast encampment that has been there during the past months, and are all too poor to hire any conveyance to Tarsus, eighteen hours away, while their women and children are too feeble to attempt the journey on foot. About two-thirds of the people had wretched tents of some description, and the rest had no shelter at all. They had sold what had not been stolen from them, and many were half-naked. All were famished and wretched, with despair written on their pinched and haggard faces; a large number were sick, and I counted five corpses in half-an-hour. Of the latter, two were still stretched out in the tents, one was being buried, and two had been thrown out by the roadside. There is no available shelter for these people in Bozanti, even if they had permission to use it. The Government sends some bread to them from time to time, but with no regularity. Most of them were villagers, but some from good families. I found a pretty young girl with her mother in one of the tents, whom I recognised as having seen in Q. The girl had been in danger of being abducted by the police while here, so her mother had hurried her on to Bozanti; but there the money gave out, and they had nothing left but some scanty bedding, a few dishes, a little clothing and three medjidias. Beside their tent were two others, whose occupants, like them, were people of some breeding and refinement, but in similar destitution, and with only women and children in all the three tents. In another tent I found a young girl who had been carried off by the gendarmes but rescued by the station employees at Bozanti. I was told that she had been a bright and attractive girl, but when I saw her she was thin and emaciated and had become idiotic. The valley was strewn with graves, and many of them had been torn open by dogs and the bodies eaten. I was told that considerably over a thousand people had died at Bozanti, and about the same number at P.—how many thousands all along the way from Constantinople to Mesopotamia, no one can tell. People coming from that region say that not one person in ten ever reached Zor, and that those people who have gotten there have nothing but starvation before them. From the statements of railway officials and others I should think that not less than 500,000 people must have passed through Bozanti.
At P., in addition to distributing some money, I left 30 liras to be spent for the people by J. Effendi and the Armenian Beledié physician there (a first-rate and very capable fellow), paying especial attention to the waifs above mentioned. At Bozanti I bought a donkey-load of bread and distributed it to the refugees, gave out a considerable amount of cash in small sums, hired several camels and horses that were then available to take some of the people on to Tarsus as soon as possible, and left 20 liras with my host to hire wagons next day and send on more of the people (wagons there can now be hired quite cheaply). If we get word that they reached Tarsus safely, I think we can arrange to send on the rest. Tarsus is at least warmer and better in every way than the bleak mountains among which they are staying now, and we can only hope that things may take a turn for the better before they are driven into the desert. The Vali here is now very friendly, and assures us that at least all Protestants will be allowed to remain here and will not be molested, but that others will be sent off soon to the towns (kazas), though not to the villages. We all breathe easier with the chief of police and his cronies now no longer in Q.
113. KONIA: RESUMÉ OF A LETTER[[153]] DATED KONIA, 2nd/15th OCTOBER, 1915; APPENDED TO THE MEMORANDUM (DOC. 11), DATED 15th/28th OCTOBER, 1915, FROM A WELL-INFORMED SOURCE AT BUKAREST.
Immediately after the recall of the Vali, Djelal Bey, who had left the exiles’ tents with tears in his eyes, more than 80,000 Armenians—men, women and children—were driven away from their tents and directed towards the south, beaten along with whips and clubs. It was a heart-rending sight. The poor people, who were already in rags, had to abandon what blankets or clothes they possessed and start on foot. Parents had lost their children, women were looking for their husbands, but the wild gendarmerie flogged without mercy all those who cried or entreated. The tents were full of corpses, which dogs were devouring. More than thirty people died daily from hunger and cold. All along the railway line from Konia to Karaman, Eregli and Bozanti (the rail-head), hundreds of thousands of Armenians were herded along by the gendarmes. Tired and hungry, they begged bread from the passengers and the railway officials. The few families that had managed to remain in Konia at the cost of great sacrifices, have also received the order to leave the town. The Government has published a report on alleged crimes committed by the Christians, and especially by the Armenians, against the Moslems. By such means it deliberately exasperates the Turks more and more. On the journey the number of deaths goes on increasing.
[153]. Name of writer withheld.
114. BAGHDAD RAILWAY: DIARY OF A FOREIGN RESIDENT[[154]] IN THE TOWN OF B., ON A SECTION OF THE LINE; EDITED BY WILLIAM WALTER ROCKWELL, ESQ., PH.D., AND PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN COMMITTEE FOR ARMENIAN AND SYRIAN RELIEF (1916).
30th June, 1915.
The skies are dark here, and people have been in and out all day—these of all classes, and every one with the same question: “What of the night?” The news from BV. was not encouraging. A few influential Turks here want to help, but dare not. Some women went by carriage to see an influential man and his family in a vineyard; were well received. Each had her part; —— was assigned that of shedding tears, but I do not think she did so alone. It has been like a funeral here. Several families have been notified to be at the station with all their members and their beds on Monday next, when they would be told their destination. P.’s brother and Q. head the list; the others are poorer people. They are working for a week of grace in which to settle business affairs. Isn’t it awful—and all are asking: “Who next?” Such drawn and tired faces as we have seen all day.
Half the town want to “store” things here, to be ours if they never return; rugs, coppers, etc.—but we may be blown up, who knows?
1st July.
Times here are lively. In B. people get two orders at once, and then ask which one they must obey? Conditions in BV. are hard. The Vali’s brother is against the Armenians. People of all sorts and conditions come from morning until night to ask questions and to weep. The conditions here are far from cheerful.
4th July.
Several families go to-morrow (only one of them a Protestant). The Government says they will go a few at a time. I doubt their sending widows, and, for all their positive assertions, I still feel it in my bones that there will be modifications of the order. People come from morning till night to talk.
I am giving up the room downstairs for a store-room. —— says he has 5,000 liras’ worth of mortgages and farms, etc., which he can’t store. The R.’s have eight times as much out among the ruling race. I suspect that leading families are to go first. Every one trembles.
We had a comfortably full chapel both morning and evening, and two beautiful sermons suitable for the time. Many Greeks and Gregorians present. The Greeks are being sent from Constantinople. —— urged upon the people their going away in a right spirit, remembering the blessings of the past, opportunities as a nation for education, business and church life, to pay their debts to Moslems, to help the poor among them, to go as evangelists in faith and courage. It was comforting and inspiring.
18th July.
Eighty-three men from Kaisaria (without their families), the most influential man in the Protestant community among them, came to-day en route for Aleppo. They say that spies are everywhere now-a-days. What days these are, and when will they end?
20th July.
Last night the city districts across the river were notified to be ready. The Commissaire (chief of police) is registering families all over the city, and says they are to go at least fifty at a time and that vigorous measures will now be taken, etc. These are miserable, anxious days for everybody.
23rd July.
One does not know what to say of the situation here. There seemed to be a holding up yesterday. Some who went to be registered were sent home to wait till called for. In the meantime, Arab women were going through —— Agha’s district (where word had been given the previous evening to pack up and leave), and were buying all sorts of things, rugs, coppers, etc., at one-third or one-fifth their value. Things worth a lira[[155]] sometimes went for a mejidia[[156]], etc. There is trouble in every family.
I’ve been out in the market getting cloth so as to give sewing to some poor women, and also to get the news. I met the Armenian priest at S.’s store. He is pretty certain there is no help for the people. However, he is going through his congregation and making out a list of all the lame and halt and deaf and blind and old and soldiers’ families, to lay before the Government as exceptions. He had a hope of gaining their case.
A few wretched people from Zeitoun are in the churchyard. They were left behind somewhere, but are now here, and I hear that one woman was likely to be confined last night.
Streets are full of Moslem women of the common sort, buying freely, talking loudly, and, I fear, getting goods “charged.” Merchants do not seem glad to see them.
Some say that Armenians in BV. have paid £10,000 (Turkish) to buy exemption; others say forty families are to leave soon.
I made several calls and saw many in the streets. It was pitiful to find the gateways blocked by crowds of Moslem women demanding what there was for sale; even pushing into houses after hearing there was nothing for sale. In one house of our congregation is a woman with three little children. The mother had sold her few decent clothes, bought coarse flour and made a pile of the hardest and poorest thin bread I’ve seen for many a day. She needed her clothes badly enough, but, with hungry children, she needed money more. I gave her a medjidia.
T.’s wife was at home selling and packing, quite cheerful, but says T.’s old mother mourns the years of labour given to the vineyard, etc. (naturally). Her neighbours had torn some sheets of corrugated zinc from their roofs to sell. The Government forbade it.
28th July.
Many people actually left on Monday, so that in all over forty families have gone, and many more are to go next Thursday. Our baker went on two hours’ or less notice. He left bread in the oven, and gathered up wheat that was drying. He has a lame wife and three children, and his half-blind mother went also. There seems to be no help. (N.B.—The poor baker died soon on the way.)
A few families have left BV. and several men have left AE., with families to follow. The poverty and distress of the people is heartbreaking. The poor family from BM., which you gave help to and who have seven daughters, are to go next Monday. This intense heat has pulled the eldest daughter down so that she is confined to her bed. I fear it is tuberculosis. Doctor says so. The family will ask delay. There isn’t much chance of their getting it.
—— (the Moslem doctor) examines people and says to the sick, “You can go,” and gives a stimulant. The mother of the R. brothers is to go on Monday. I hope we can keep the boys here.
I’ve bought a cow for which I paid three liras (fifty-four shillings). Others would not have paid so much, but it means food and money for the journey.
Wages in the factory have been cut down, as people are willing to work at any price if they can escape exile.
2nd August.
Over forty more families left this morning. Most of them were very poor, and it was a sad sight to see them going to the station on foot, loaded down with small children, jugs, baskets and bundles. They were not laughing or talking at all; some of the children were crying; better off people went to the train by carriage, but looked no happier. Thus far soldiers’ families seem to be exempt.
Sixty men from AE. were on the train as exiles this morning; more are to follow. The train runs now for military and exile service from AE. I can’t even write letters, my mind is so upset.
4th August.
School is still an open question. The Turks are taking note of stock in shop to-day.
One of the —— boys, about twelve years old, was returning home to the vineyard and was robbed and wounded a little. After the murder of young —— last week, we are thankful this boy was not seriously hurt. The incident shows the spirit of the times.
7th August.
Miss —— has just come from AE. She saw the AE. people being loaded into carts sent by the Government, and carriages hired by themselves, to be deported. Seventy families came as far as B. in the night. ——’s family got a day longer. George was summoned in the night to help them. He went on horseback, and hasn’t returned. Many are to leave here on Monday.
8th August.
Such a full day; people coming, coming, a constant stream, to deposit things, to get eye-medicine, salve for sores, to ask for help, to beg all manner of things, shoes, money, tents and so on. I did something for each asker, but not much. There was a mad rush to the station—one stream of vehicles of all descriptions, carrying goods to the station, families on top in most cases. The regular passenger train pulled out sometime before — o’clock. The live freight was so overfull that many were left until to-morrow—among them ——, who has been ill for weeks. Their goods are at the station, and their house locked and sealed; —— is lying under an empty goods-truck, very weak and miserable.
The people in BW. are now threatened with deportation. There are scarcely half-a-dozen mature men left in the village since the last massacre, but plenty of women and children.
A group of people from Talas have come. The women have been robbed, and some of the girls in their party had suffered terrible things. The party had sons in military service, and others in business in America.
9th August.
Miss —— went to BV. to-day. We saw the people (put by themselves) off for AG. Besides many B. people we know, there were fifty carriages full of AE. people, including Protestants and many big Armenian families. Seventy families came up a few days ago. ——’s shop was shut up and sealed so quickly that they got only three packages out before the Government was on hand to close up. Little —— even left his coat in his haste. Between 800 and 900 liras’ worth of goods were in the store. Their house is new, and newly furnished. They were to have come on last night, but six days more were granted, because of new-born baby and wife’s being too weak.
There has been an uprising of Armenian runaways and Kurds, and a meeting in conflict near Marash. A few soldiers killed. This event has disturbed still more the minds of the Turks. The sea-coast towns are to be emptied in two weeks, they say. Turks will go to the mountains.
11th August.
There seems to be a holding up of deportation to last until after Bairam at least, and we hope longer. There is no hold up for AE.
14th August.
Dr. L. arrived here from AC. He said there was no place as quiet and safe as this region! In AC. a thousand families have been told to leave, and among them are the families of all their teachers. So there was no hope of opening the College unless something very unexpected occurred soon. There have been extensive massacres all through that region, at Malatia, Besné, Adiaman, etc. The Marash region is all afire—runaways stirring up to wrath and revenge being taken by massacre, the Turks wanting an excuse to do their worst. Nothing has been heard from Marash for some time. He knows of special trouble and killing at Fundadjak (five hours from Marash). Ourfa region is all excitement, people being exiled and made away with en route. He mentioned many killed that we knew.
One thousand Zeitoun people have died in exile, they say. The city is full now with exiles from Adapazar and that region. The son of ——- of Talas died in Osmania. The family were exiled, and the hardships of the journey were too much for the professor.
Many Zeitoun people are wandering about the streets of B. They say they were driven from the Konia Vilayet. They reported to the Kaimakam here, who said he had no orders about them and would not meddle, they might do just as they pleased. (Later they were driven on). Dr. L. appealed personally to U. Pasha for permission to do general relief work. He was flatly refused. U. said the Government would attend to its own business. Dr. L. says they will do so, and are doing so in regions to the east, and people are dying in many ways; it’s a part of the policy.
Dr. L. says the Arabs at Der-el-Zor (where Armenians are exiled) are kindly, and treat women well. The climate is hot and dry, and warm river-water is all there is to drink, and he fears cholera and typhoid, as bodies are continually seen floating down the rivers (massacre victims).
16th August.
Crowds of Zeitoun people, sent away from Sultania, went on to-day towards BM. I fear they go to death. Between 600 and 700 have died already of hardship and illness.
I made some Bairam calls on Turks and was well received, but one cannot be at all sure of the heart of any one these days.
Have just returned from the priest’s house. I went to get a girl’s story. The girl was a day-pupil of Miss V.’s[[157]] at X., about fifteen years old. Officers came to many houses and said they were to be exiled, but school-girls were to be excepted, and they took the girls “back to school;” not to their own school, though, but to a Turkish barracks, where they were on exhibition and chosen as the property of certain officers. This girl was claimed by one; the others, over a hundred, were carried in automobiles to Constantinople. Fifteen of them were this girl’s friends. This girl was brought here with exiles from somewhere. She refused the attentions of the officer claiming her. The priest heard of her and went to investigate. The officer complained that not one smile had she ever given him. The priest said she would never smile on him, and left him to think over-night on the matter. In the morning he said he didn’t want her against her will. The priest secured the girl, and the officer has gone his way on to Aleppo. The priest can’t afford to keep her, and I have written to the BV. school about her. Perhaps we here can raise 10 liras for her and send her to school. She left her mother two months ago. Her family were exiled at once.
W., X.’s sister and her child were here an hour ago, en route from the north (where the Zeitoun people were first sent). She tells dreadful tales. What will be the end of it all? The streets are full of exiles begging for bread. —— and relatives are all here, and Partani’s sister. I am buying ——’s bed to lighten her luggage and fill her purse. She tells of babies left to die on the roadside, as the mothers could carry them no longer. Many tell me this.
A young man from —— was just in. Two hundred and fifty families are en route from there. The city swarms with exiles, and many are at ——.
19th August.
Our —— boys and families are also in the procession. The Nigdé people have begun to move on from here. The Adapazar people are à la franca and some of them very rich. Thirty more carriages from AE. last night.
Robberies are common, and girls carried off, and three Armenians killed at BY.
20th August.
The stream of arrivals continues to flow into B. The poor people on foot simply drop down utterly exhausted, and many are dying of hunger and fatigue. Three quite large children died in the Gregorian churchyard yesterday; another is badly off with smallpox; a middle-aged man there is dying. —— Hodja has been over there this morning to minister to him. A crowd of those ill were carried off to the Turkish hospital yesterday. —— and his family are still here from BV., waiting for the rest of his family—mother and brothers and their families. The advance line has arrived and tell him that his relatives lost almost everything from their homes. Plunderers threw their goods from the windows, and partners carried off rugs, bedding, &c. and some money they had. His brothers had been in prison.
I helped yesterday a blind man (led by his wife) who had been driven from Bor; also an old woman with snowy white hair who was hungry and penniless. I got Y. to make up a dress for a young woman, and Z. made a skirt for another young married woman whose clothes were in tatters. A crowd are in our churchyard. I sent them soap for a wash and bath, and shavings, &c., for fuel.
There has been a pause in the B. deportation, waiting for the present crowd to pass on. AE. people are again on the move. I hear that only five Armenian families will be left in AE. One is the dealer in iron for the Railway, and the others are employed for business dealings with the Government.
People here are dealt with very gently as compared with treatment received in northern districts and to the east.
22nd August.
B. presents a strange sight these days with literally thousands of strangers in our streets. These are from places all the way up to Adapazar, and they are of all types and degrees of civilisation, “some in rags, and some in tags, and some in velvet gowns.” The church was full this morning.
I went by the Gregorian church yesterday and looked into the yard. Such a sight! Such a pandemonium of noises! In that crowd there are deaths every day, from disease, hunger and exhaustion. I sent money to help a few, but any help any of us can give is but a drop in an ocean of misery.
According to a wire from our Ambassador, Catholics and Protestants are excused from exile. It seems to be true. I suppose our people in AG. will be called back now. Now for the red tape to get a full and correct list of the Protestant villages and strangers!
I have written for some relief money. One poor Zeitoun woman is too ill to travel, but her husband has been driven on—forced to leave her here. She is at the church. Some people are in our churchyard, some in hans, and some have rented houses in which to rest for a few days. The Zeitoun people are “free,” but are driven from place to place. They are, as a whole, ragged, dirty and covered with vermin, and hungry, and afraid of the purpose of the Government.
Same Evening.
There is danger of cholera breaking out. Two died in the churchyard who had symptoms of it. The Government is trying to drive away the poorest of the people, chiefly Zeitoun people. They say there is cholera in Aleppo. Was there ever a year like this?
A lot of people from Nigdé were called from our service by the police to start on, this afternoon. The Government is not quite pleased over the new order for exemption of Protestants and Catholics. The Zeitoun people are watched closely, and one must not help them.
26th August[[158]].
——’s letters do not—cannot—exaggerate it. The state to which things have come is indicated by ——’s very casual remark last night: “Well, to-morrow we’ll first go out and see who has died.”—“I hope that woman in the church has.”—“I wish that child would, but I’m afraid she won’t.”
Yesterday and the day before, most of those in the open—those absolutely too sick to move along being excepted—were driven out with whips. We fear they have but gone to BZ. (outside the town), to suffer still worse. Many have been even deprived of their bedding, or at least separated from it and forbidden to hunt it up. There is never a day but some die.
Those able to hire houses have escaped from being driven on, by keeping out of sight, as the driving is done with much cruelty but no system.
In our church a very à la franca family from —— had an addition the day they arrived. They have been given a few days’ grace.
I’ve been out to BZ., where conditions are still worse than in the city. Saw one old woman by the road, dying. People walked by her, lying out in the blazing sun, with scarcely a look. The sight is too common. Thousands are out there, and no shade or shelter of any kind, except such as the people themselves can manage to put up.
I go out with —— every day, and come back sure I’ve merely had a nightmare.
2nd September.
Streams of Yozgad people have come, and the word is that 10,000 are en route from Constantinople. Some Broussa people are here now—new-comers. Yesterday was a hard day, heart-breaking. I went to the train, a long one, to see over forty B. families off, and others besides. Among the B. people were ——, ——, AB., and his sick wife, taken from bed to go and almost carried aboard the train. ——’s sister and husband, her daughter Akabé and Akabé’s family go on Saturday, and our dear, kind, and just neighbour —— and his family. He looked white with pain at going, and his wife, well, she could talk, though far from happy. Notwithstanding ——’s assurances that —— and —— could remain as boarders, their boys were taken. The Kaimakam evidently had not been notified by the Vali. The Kaimakam seems to have a heart, but is hard pressed, I am told, by the rich and influential Turks in B., who are making life a burden for him.
Another of those wretched old women without money, food, friends, or bed, and ill, has finished her pilgrimage. Three remain in the Gregorian yard, and three men in the same hopeless condition. I do not see how they live. The old women raise a cry for water when I go. I sent —— with iced “iran” yesterday and to-day. The woman with a fever is better. Two girls, without beds, are now ill. I am getting excelsior beds filled for them to-day. The woman with a burnt arm has moved on. The train was to go to CD. From where will they be fed there?
3rd September.
Things get worse and worse. Mr. —— called last night and told me he saw a telegram from U. Pasha, saying: “Let not the Americans and consuls be seen helping the exiles or appearing with them at stations and public places.”
——’s name is down to go to-morrow. We are doing our best to save him. I’ve sent to Mr. AG. for help, and may have to go myself to the Kaimakam.
4th September.
—— went to AE. yesterday with a letter to Mr. AG. about our boys and teachers. I’ve little hope from that quarter, but give him his opportunity. Mr. AH. put ——’s case before the Kaimakam strongly yesterday, as our man. The Kaimakam is well disposed, but is under heavy pressure to send every Armenian without exception. Anyway, I may be able to save his family.
6th September.
Crowds of people went to-day. There was only one passenger carriage, for which people paid. All others were crowded en masse into goods-trucks, and driven with whips like so many cattle. One old man, who had spoken and prayed beautifully in our morning prayer meeting yesterday (a Protestant from Yozgad), turned, when the police called him, to call his townsman. He was struck with a stone and asked if it was his business to call people. He quietly accepted the rebuke.
At BV. the proclamation was given out on Saturday from the housetops all over the city that every Armenian of whatever church would leave BV. without delay.
No notice has been served on the Protestants here as yet. The Kaimakam accepted it that they were to remain. He has assured me that he will do his best to save —— as our teacher. But this morning —— was demanded by the police and taken from our yard to be sent at once. You may believe it, he was fairly wild. Said he couldn’t go at once, hadn’t change of clothes, and he would write and ask for a few days’ time. I signed his petition, and a boy ran to the Government while a policeman led him to the station. George gave him money and collected three blankets for him. The Kaimakam sent me greetings and the message that he would attend to the matter. At the station —— was arrested for coming so late, and thus attempting to be left behind. The train was still there but full, and he was rushed back and put into prison! I suspected that the Kaimakam was taking this way to secure delay, and I still think so. Hence I made no enquiries, intending to do so after the train pulled out. Some time later, —— returned all out of breath, saying he could stay until Wednesday, and he drove up to the vineyard to give his wife details. She knew nothing of the proceedings of the day.
Yesterday, after service, a nice looking middle-aged woman came to me with her arm in a sling and said it pained her, and could I do something for it. I took her upstairs and called Nurse ——, and we found a stab in her shoulder and dressed it. She said she and her son were stabbed by bashi bazouks on the way. To stop the bleeding they had stuffed in earth, and this and the blood had caked well.
I took Nurse —— to see some other patients. The old woman who usually raises herself and asks for water seemed unconscious, and didn’t answer even when I said “cold water” and put a few drops on her head. She was alive but getting cold, and died in the night. This morning the man in the corner was also released. He came only two days ago, and was in a most wretched condition.
The other night I found the woman with short grey hair just able to reach up and call: “Water, water.” An Armenian woman lifted her head and she drank, but fell back at once, and we found her hands icy cold, and saw she was dying. We straightened out her rags, and got an old pillow under her head. She was soon released.
This morning Nurse —— and I started out again for the churchyard. Sitting opposite the gate was the fat police commissioner who is so cruel. He called out to “Madame ——.” I stopped and explained that we were only looking after a woman who had met with an accident on the road. But I was told decidedly that I was not to go into that yard again; that the Government would send food! doctors! medicines! and foreigners were not to help or interfere. So I returned.
So many young women and pretty girls come to me here and in the street, asking with tears what is to become of them.
7th September.
The woman and her son with sword-cuts came this afternoon. No one was around, so the gate-man let them in and I dressed the wounds. Both doing well. I gave new bandages and other needfuls, so that, if they could not come again, or were driven on the road to-morrow, they could care for the wound. They were most grateful. They are Protestants, and intelligent; were robbed of money. I gave them a little for food—shall give more if I see them again. AC. got through; no trouble about keeping boys in the yard now. Little fellows run for all. Massacre near Yozgad; the air heavy with the odour of unburied bodies. Some of our travellers came by them. Dr. BB.[[159]] and the hospital still in X. when the exiles left, but things in a bad way generally. AD.’s postcard tells of AC. BM. seems quiet at present.
—th September.
The woman I was forbidden to nurse got over here yesterday leaning on a friend and by help of a cane. George was here, and we gave the heel a good dressing but couldn’t get all the broken bone out. The flesh is getting clean. The poor old woman cried and said she was hungry. I fed her and gave her a little money. She hopes to get here again to-morrow, but she suffers excruciating pain when her foot rests on the ground.
There will soon be a lull, I suppose, as the town is getting well emptied, not a Christian butcher left, and only two Moslems.
8th September.
The pot is boiling harder and harder. Another special train takes nearly all left of B. Armenians. —— and his family were all hustled off this morning as “a dangerous man who had tried to help exiles.” Talas people are here now (came last night) and tell sad tales.
10th September.
R. feels helpless and it looks that way now, as things get worse every day. The powers that be have their own plans and listen to no one. On all sides one hears a wail of distress. Every man, woman, and child has come from ——, leaving most of their possessions behind. Even their preacher is here, and is ordered to “move on.” I have “cabbaged” the three little fellows who were our pupils, and am keeping them here, as they were of our last year’s boarders. No one will look them up. Two little orphan boys (new ones) were offered from these, but I couldn’t take them. They too must “move on.”
To what straits all are now reduced! The woman with a broken heel was here this morning and I took two more pieces of crushed bone from it. She bears it well. I think the loose pieces are about all out now. I did it up and made a sort of burlap outer covering as a protection. I gave her some food, for she cried and said she was dying of hunger. Only the helpless (and a few others) are now left here. The —— people are at the station. Crowds of people have been shipped off. AE. people are coming now. Poor —— is still in prison.
11th September.
We are nearly crazy with difficulties. I hardly think AJ. will be sent, but no one knows. AF. is here from BV., and reports that some five days ago a telegram was received from some German “sefer” ordering that every Armenian should stay where he was, whether at home or abroad. In BV. the Government hurried people off all the more, but now the order has leaked out, and probably is known here, as there was a lull to-day, and the Vali passed last evening to —— and saw the Kaimakam en route. —— and —— are to leave on Thursday. Circassians are to take the houses of the common people, and officers those of the wealthier ones.
—— reports that Marash Protestants were called back—almost compelled to come. In Adana it looks as if the deportation were an alternative for a massacre. Exiles are not wanted anywhere.
12th September.
No Christians left in Bor. Zeitoun was burned by the runaways and Fundadjak is in ruins; also Deré Keui and another neighbouring village.
14th September.
BV. is being emptied of every Armenian, and the foreigners fear they also may have to go, if there is an invasion on the coast. I do not think conditions are as bad here.
17th September.
Dr. —— says we must not think of Red Cross work as the Society has not the funds, but must let the Turks run things on their own responsibility. The Turks expect an invasion and are sending their families away.
Some rich Samsoun people here to-day. —— says that the three families among whom she is are to go to Konia.
A stranger priest died here yesterday from exhaustion and heart-break, etc.
19th September.
No exiles to-day; there seems to be a calm for a few hours.
—th October.
Life is getting fuller and fuller of problems here. Affairs here are in a very critical condition.
[154]. Mother of the “Miss B.” of Sect. I., Doc. [8]
[155]. 18s.
[156]. 3s. 2d.
[157]. The “Miss A.” of Sect. [XI].
[158]. Note by Dr. Rockwell:—This letter, by a man, is inserted here to reflect the situation from a man’s point of view.
[159]. See Section XI.