I feel that I owe an apology to my reader for this long excursion into Armenian history. But my endeavour has been to encompass a double purpose, that of presenting in a sufficient narrative the capital events in the annals of Ani, and that of sketching in from various and scattered sources the larger history of the Armenian kingdom of the Middle Ages. The attention of the traveller, no less than that of the statesman and the man of culture, is frequently directed to that neglected but fascinating subject, which indeed explains the present condition of the Armenians and which conducts us to the threshold of our own era. We cannot learn much from the long intervening spaces of time during which Tartars and Turkomans, and Ottoman Turks and Persians ruled in a country which was forgotten by the West. A deep sleep settles on the land, given over to shepherds, from which it scarcely awakes at the distant calling of the modern epoch. The natural development of the Armenian people was suddenly arrested by the Seljuk conquest, and the abler among them were forced to seek new homes. Some stout spirits established themselves in the mountains of Cilicia, where they founded a petty kingdom which endured for nearly three hundred years (A.D. 1080–1375). The obstinacy of their race was made manifest by the long resistance of this colony to the spiritual guidance of the popes of Rome. The friends of the Crusaders, they were at length overwhelmed by the Turks, who suppressed the dynasty. Their descendants still maintain themselves about their adopted seats, secure in their mountain fastnesses. But perhaps the most remarkable outcome of this dispersal was the emigration of the inhabitants of Ani to Poland, Moldavia and Galicia, to Astrakhan on the northern shore of the Caspian, and thence to the Crimea. Many of these colonies have endured to the present day. Some among them were permitted to retain their own laws; and the jurisprudence of the Armenian kings figures in the code of the colony of Lemberg, which was administered by the Armenian notables with the express sanction of the Polish kings and which has been preserved to the curiosity of our own age.[68]
My reader is now in possession of an outline of the history of the deserted city before the walls of which he stands. He is also familiar with the large surroundings which overpower this elegant architecture—in the distance the pile of Alagöz and the dome of Ararat; far and near the undulating upland plain, deeply cañoned by the sinuous course of the Arpa Chai. But the site of Ani calls for some particular description.[69] It has been built within the fork described by the meeting of two ravines which have been eroded by the action of water to a considerable depth below the level of the plain. In the more westerly of these ravines flows a small stream coming down from the Alaja Dagh (p. 330), which was known to the old priest by its older name of Tsaghkotz,[70] but which some travellers have called the Alaja Chai. The more easterly is occupied by the Arpa Chai, the ancient Akhurean. Near the confluence, the two streams are only separated by a narrow spit, and their waters hiss at the base of crags composed of lava. But the greater portion of the site consists of a spacious platform, flanked on two sides by the ravines. At a distance of about a mile above the junction of the waters two small side valleys descend into the principal depressions from within the area which they enclose. The one is directed towards the west and joins the trough of the Alaja; the other pursues a south-easterly course to the chasm of the Arpa Chai. The heads of these two side valleys are separated from one another by a considerable stretch of unbroken ground. It is on that side only and along that space that the site is weak. And it is there that the double line of walls have been erected, fronted in ancient times by a moat (Fig. [70]).[71]
Fig. 71. Ani: Bas-relief on the Inner Wall of the Gateway.
The character of this double wall and the appearance of the towers are exhibited in my illustration, which was taken from outside, in front of the principal gateway. The long line of fortifications is seen extending towards the east. Such walls are composed at Ani of an inner core of solid conglomerate, faced on either side with rectangular blocks of hewn stone. One admires the exquisite art with which the masonry is disposed and the minute fitting at the joints. We enter the enclosure between the two parapets, and walk for a short distance in an easterly direction. Above us, upon the face of the inner wall, is placed a fine bas-relief of a lion (Fig. [71]); and almost immediately we arrive at the inner gateway, just west of the great tower. A somewhat effaced inscription is seen above the arch. It has been copied, but the interpretation and date are obscure.[72] We know that these walls were originally built by King Sembat the Second (A.D. 977–989);[73] but they must have been restored and towers added at later dates. The earliest inscription which has been discovered was found on a round tower not far from this entrance. It is in Cufic character, and records that the tower was erected by Manuchar the son of Chawir, or Abulsevar. We have already seen that Manuchar was the first ruler in Ani of the Kurdish family of the Beni-Cheddad (A.D. 1072). Other inscriptions belong to the latter half of the twelfth century and the commencement of the thirteenth. They are in Armenian and establish the fact that some of the towers were constructed by private persons as memorials to themselves.[74]
Fig. 72. Ani: The Cathedral from South-East.
Once within the archway through the inner wall, the interior of the city is displayed in a long perspective to our gaze. But we might have to mount upon one of the parapets, in order to survey the irregularities of the large triangular space as far as the citadel at its further and narrow end. This north-easterly or broader portion of the site is covered with the débris of the private dwellings, not one of which has remained erect. They must have been packed together in a most uncomfortable manner, and they were probably built for the greater part of inferior material.[75] It is as though a Persian runner had swished them away with his long cane to open the view to the noble monuments which still stand. Behind us, as we proceed, the long barrier of the fortifications opens out on either side. The inner walls of many of the towers have fallen in, and their vaulted interiors are laid bare. They suggest the appearance of a series of apses as they soar up into the sky.
Directing our steps towards the cathedral, the largest of the buildings, we pass the scattered fragments of an octagonal tower (No. 11 on the plan), which must have succumbed at a comparatively recent date. It has been seen while still perfect by my predecessors, who have described it as a minaret. It may have also served as a watch-tower. One huge block of masonry which has held together still displays the large proportions and the form of the structure. The remains of a spiral staircase engage the eye, and one is impressed with the excellence of the masonry. Two inscriptions have been found upon this pile. One in Persian bears the date Heg. 595 or A.D. 1198–99, and is to the effect that one Kei-Sultan of the Beni-Cheddad family “forbids the sale of sheep and camels in front of this mosque of Abu-l-Mamran.” The other is in Armenian and without date or personal sanction, being a mere exhortation to obey the order. One must suppose, in the absence of evidence to the contrary, that the minaret belonged to a mosque which has disappeared.[76]