A vast plain lay before us, level as water, to the floor of which the ground declines on every side. A single mountain, which has the appearance of a gigantic bank of soil, is drawn in a long horizontal outline along its southern verge. This outline is the dominant feature in the scene, extending from north of east to south of west (Fig. [23]). The heart and highest points of the volcanic elevation are situated in the easterly portion of the mass; they are represented by the jagged profile of the broken outer side of a crater, and they gleam with perpetual snow. Some conception of the stupendous proportions of the mountain may be derived from a rough measurement of its protraction in a latitudinal sense. On the east the volcanic emissions have been arrested by the barrier of the border ranges; on the west they have descended from the central or subordinate points of eruption to the valley of the Arpa Chai. From that valley, in the neighbourhood of Ani, to the road which passes between the volcano and the meeting slopes of the border chain is a distance of over 40 miles. Throughout this space the bulk of the giant is thrown across the landscape, his head and body resting against the framework of the border ranges, his feet extended to the margin of the historic stream.
Such a prospect is the rich reward of the traveller; we paused to admire and to realise the scene. It was difficult to believe that those snowy peaks were over 30 miles distant; yet a glance at the map brought home to us this fact. The floor of the plain has an elevation of some 5000 feet, while those peaks are 13,000 feet high. Between us and the base of the mountain no meaner object disturbed the view, which ranged uninterrupted across dim tracts of earth and stone, tinted with shades of ochre in the burnt grass and scanty stubble, but treeless, without verdure of any kind. In the east the limit of the plain is the outline of the border ranges, of which we were touching the skirts; they describe a wide curve, concave towards the expanse, and appear to pass over into a meridional direction before the point of intersection with the volcanic mass. Their sides are bare of vegetation, as are those of the volcano, and they are much broken into hummock forms. From north-west descend the slopes of the Chaldir system, of which the base is inclined towards the plain. In the west the eye is unable to discern a boundary to the misty distance of flat or undulating ground. A little to the right of the white summits in the south your attention is directed to a slender line of grey—a low relief upon the surface of the plain. It is Alexandropol; such is the first view of the site of the city, backed by Alagöz. We made rapid progress across the level interval and arrived in the town at a quarter before one.
CHAPTER IX
AT ALEXANDROPOL
The city and district of Alexandropol are included in the administrative division of the Government of Erivan. Yet they are separated from the capital and territory of that name by a natural barrier of vast extent. The mass of Alagöz, which one may compare to a gigantic shield with a central boss, interrupts communication with the valley of the Araxes. It must be turned and cannot be crossed. In a geographical sense the province of Alexandropol unites more naturally with that of Kars; while, if we measure its importance by the populousness of its principal town, it deserves to enjoy a position of primacy in the Government of which it may form part. The city has double the number of inhabitants as compared to Erivan, if I can trust the figure given me by the governor and corroborated by the leading notables—a round total of 30,000 souls.[1]
Its extreme youth and the fact that it is almost exclusively peopled by Armenians are the most remarkable features about Alexandropol. At the commencement of the nineteenth century the site was partly vacant and partly tenanted by an insignificant village called Gümri. The district formed part of the outlying province of Shuragel,[2] which belonged to the Georgian kingdom at the time of the annexation of Georgia by Russia in 1801. The Cossacks who came to take over this important piece of territory appear to have established a camp in the vicinity of Gümri; the place was early developed into a frontier station on the side of Turkey, and in 1817, when it was visited by an English traveller, was already occupied by a considerable Russian garrison.[3] In the war between Russia and Turkey, which broke out in the spring of 1828, this partially fortified position served the Russians as an advanced base. It was on the line of advance or defence on the side of Gümri that the Russian military authorities placed the greatest store. There the Russian possessions were most open to attack; but, on the other hand, it was through Gümri that they could take the offensive with the greatest advantage, since it enabled them to cut off Akhaltsykh and the northern provinces from Erzerum and those upon the west. How Turkey could have permitted her powerful neighbour to acquire this strip without an appeal to arms can probably best be explained on the ground of Oriental fatalism. When Marshal Paskevich had taken Erivan and concluded the war with Persia by the Peace of Turkomanchai (February 1828), his hands were free to cut large slices from the Ottoman empire; and it was at Gümri, overlooking the Arpa Chai, the boundary against Turkey, that he effected the concentration of his troops. From Gümri he set out in person at the head of his army on the 26th of June 1828. The outcome of this war was the capture of Kars and Erzerum, and the permanent acquisition by Russia of Akhaltsykh and the northern districts under the Treaty of Adrianople (1829). The restoration to the Sultan of the two first-named strongholds increased the strategical value of the station on the Arpa Chai. Gümri was slowly but persistently converted into a first-rate fortress, the necessary timber for the constructions being supplied to his hereditary enemies by the Pasha of Kars from the forests of the Soghanlu Dagh. In 1836 the place was visited by the Emperor Nicholas I. in person, who inspected the works, which, however, were only in an inchoate state.[4] The inhabitants date the prosperity of their town from the Imperial visit, which at once inaugurated an era of rapid expansion and transformed the village of Gümri into the city of Alexandropol. Since Russia has become possessed of Kars, the fortress on the Arpa has somewhat declined in importance; but it is still occupied by a considerable garrison, and the strength of its defences should enable it to give a good account of itself in time of war.
Fig. 24. Alexandropol from the Armenian Cemetery.