Armenia, Travels and Studies (Volume 2 of 2) / The Turkish Provinces

by H. F. B. Lynch

CHAPTER II

TO LAKE VAN

The principal artery of traffic in Turkish Armenia crosses the land from west to east. It follows the direction of a series of depressions: the plains of Erzerum, of Pasin and of Alashkert. It consists of a carriageable track, or rough road of unequal quality. The bulk of the transit trade between Europe and northern Persia is conveyed on the backs of camels along this route. The wall of protective duties which has been reared by the Russian Government compels this commerce to flow through a Turkish port and to adhere to Turkish soil. It has been stimulated by the efforts of a series of British consuls, resident at Erzerum. Robberies have been punished with great severity; and, at the present day, the traffic is seldom, if ever, interrupted, although it passes through the Kurd-inhabited districts about Bayazid, and the lawless border of the Persian and Turkish empires.

South of this beaten avenue are situated regions which, in spite of the researches of individual travellers, are still but imperfectly known. The lake of Van remains a centre of agriculture and primitive industry; yet it lies beyond a zone of feebly governed country which, year by year, is becoming more difficult to cross. The pest of Kurds has settled firmly upon these richly favoured territories, destroying agriculture and banishing trade. What caravans there are travel in large bodies, and every man is armed to the teeth. Between Erzerum and the town of Van they choose between two routes according to the season of the year. In summer they cross the mountains behind the northern capital, and proceed by the plain of Khinis, crossing the Murad at Melazkert. During winter they make the round by way of Pasin and Alashkert, deviating on the confines of the latter district, and passing the river at Tutakh. The approach through the town of Mush is used only once a year, when the pilgrims journey from Erzerum to the cloister of Surb Karapet. On that occasion the caravan, according to my informants, continues its course as far as Van. By the two first routes it is usual to follow the eastern shore of the lake, which is reached near the little town of Akantz.[1]

We set out from Karakilisa on October the 29th, mounted on our newly-purchased horses, and accompanied by a zaptieh or gendarme. Our objective was this same Akantz; the principal intermediate stations were Tutakh and Patnotz. I had thought it possible to accomplish the ride in the course of two days; our friends laughed at the idea. I decided therefore to start in the afternoon, with the hope of arriving on the evening of the third day. At a quarter-past three o’clock we were making our way along the marsh to the point where the Murad leaves the plain. After reaching the bend, we proceeded down the passage which receives the river, towards Dombat and the grassy hills which I have already mentioned. On our left hand, at an interval of about 500 yards from the left bank, rose the first gentle slopes of the Ala Dagh system; this high land was answered on the right bank, at about a similar distance, by the outworks of the Kilich Gedik. The Murad pursues its course between these two blocks of mountain, and, a little lower down, forces its way through the narrowing gap. Near Dombat both banks are of considerable elevation, and the ridges appear to cross the direction of the stream. Before arriving opposite the village we crossed the Sharian Su, a tributary which collects the drainage of the western portion of the plain, and which appeared to us to have a volume scarcely less than that of the principal branch.

After passing Dombat—which was said to be inhabited by Kizilbashes—we sank to a valley in which is situated the Kurdish village of Zado, and ascended the ridge on its opposite side. From the summit we commanded a prospect towards Karakilisa, and were impressed by the serpentine course of the river, flowing towards us in a pebbly bed which it threaded by several channels. We were placed at a height of some 250 feet above its waters. On a hillside further south we could now discern our evening station, the little village of Avdi. It was signalised by a green patch, due to vegetable gardens; its surroundings were bleak and bare. Arriving at half-past five, we selected the best of the fifteen tenements as quarters for the night. We were surprised to find a sergeant of the regular army established in this miserable place. He had come to recruit Kurds for the Hamidiyeh, and bitterly cursed his fate.

Next morning we were anxious to reach Tutakh before mid-day in order to pass the night at Patnotz. At a quarter to eight we were in the saddle; it had rained during the night, and heavy clouds hung over the hills. As we rose up the slope, we caught glimpses of the mountains which bound the plain of Alashkert upon the north. The plain itself had long been lost; we were at some distance from the river; we looked across high hills, which engulfed the invisible waters, to the summits of the Ala Dagh. The doubtful track commenced to wind between grassy slopes, strewn with boulders—a belt of country well adapted to guerilla warfare, and reputed the favourite haunt of Kurdish robbers. Horsemen would no doubt be completely at their mercy in the blind recesses of these irregular valleys. At a quarter to nine we approached the Murad, still high above it; the hills rose from either bank. In another half hour we obtained our first view of the cone of Sipan, a gleaming object in the south. Some two miles further the landscape opened, and assumed the character of a vast steppe of broken and uneven ground. Distant ranges encircled the expanse with dim outlines; Sipan alone was clearly defined against the sky. From the Kurdish village of Köshk we obtained a fine view over this country, with its waving surface featured by shadows from the clouds. We had got behind the barrier of the Kilich Gedik; and the whole segment of the circle from north-west to south-west was filled by comparatively level land. We observed a prominent shape in the mountains of the furthest distance, which we identified with the Khamur Dagh. Beyond the Mussulman village of Okhan, the river, which had left us, took a sharp bend, and joined our course. We made our way along it at a rapid trot and reached Tutakh a little after eleven o’clock.

The little township does not possess more than about a hundred houses; yet it is the seat of a Kaimakam whose administrative area includes Patnotz, and meets the boundary of the vilayet of Van. It stands on rising ground, at some little distance from the bank of the river, facing the lofty hills which rise on the opposite shore, and push the Murad towards the west. It is about equidistant from Karakilisa and from Patnotz, a ride of some twenty-three miles from the first, and of twenty-eight miles from the second. The inhabitants are for the greater part Karapapakhs, imported into the district after the last Russo-Turkish war. They can now boast of some 400 houses in the caza, or a population of about 3000 souls. Agriculturists by profession, and by temperament robbers, they appear to be in an extremely prosperous state. Their aged chief conversed with me, and imparted several particulars which I had not known before. He told me that they had emigrated from the province of Chaldir, being dissatisfied with the Russian Government, who had not treated them well in the matter of lands. The Sultan had received them back, settled them in these fertile regions, and allotted to them as much ground as they required. I questioned him with some care about the original seats of his tribe; he was emphatic that they had always lived in Chaldir.[2] Taylor tells us that they became possessed of the villages and lands in that province, and in the neighbouring province of Kars, which had been abandoned by the Armenians who followed the army of Marshal Paskevich upon his evacuation of Turkish territory in 1829. According to the chief, their original possessions in Transcaucasia extended from Daghestan to Chaldir. The tribe supplies a regiment of Hamidiyeh for this caza; the head men were resplendent in their new uniforms, of which they seemed very proud. Both here and at Karakilisa I was impressed by the diversity of type which is found among them. Mingled with physiognomies of purely Tartar or Persian character were faces which, with their lighter hair and fairer complexion, might have belonged to a group of Circassians. With the exception of the shops, single-storeyed stone buildings, the houses in Tutakh are the usual loose agglomerations of earth and rough stone. The great majority of the population in the caza are Kurds; a scattering of Armenians are entirely at the mercy of their rapacious Mussulman neighbours.

Our baggage animals, which had started from Avdi with us, arrived at one o’clock. They were in charge of a second zaptieh, to whom I had given instructions to find his way to Akantz as best he could. A little before two we were again in the saddle, making for the adjacent ford across the Murad. The river is fairly broad just opposite the town, having a width at this season of about 100 yards. It had spread beyond its average dimensions in this region, and the water did not reach higher than the horses’ knees. We admired the clear, blue current, sweeping past us—a stream neither sluggish nor impetuous, as befits the beginning of a great river. From the opposite bank we proceeded at right angles to its direction, up the side of the line of high hills. At eighteen minutes after two we had wound our way to the summit; we stood on the surface of rolling downs. A little later, when I thought we had reached the highest point of these uplands, I took the reading of my aneroid. We had reached a level of 5800 feet, or of 560 feet above Tutakh. The exhilarating air, the easy ground, the magnificent prospects rendered our ride most enjoyable. Behind us was the outline of the Kilich Gedik, running from east to west. We could just see the crest of the Kuseh Dagh beyond it, the summit of the dome. Towards the south rose the irregular mass of the Khamur, and the beautiful landmark of Sipan. That graceful mountain stood disclosed to three-quarters of its height. Such are the rewards which Armenia bestows upon the traveller, and which Man is powerless to destroy.