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.