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I remember, when a boy, seeing one of Offenbach’s comic operas entitled “The Princess of Trebizond,” the plot of which, I supposed, was pure fiction; but, since looking into things, it seems entirely probable that the main incidents actually occurred when Trebizond was an empire and a despot known as the “Grand Comnenus” ruled over that quaint, little, old town and the country that surrounds it. The ruins of the palaces the rulers occupied and the fortifications which they built to defend their capital still remain, and it is difficult to conceive anything more picturesque than the ancient walls and towers covered with ivy and other creeping vines. The Turks have utilized a good part of them, and from the deck of the ship we saw the ugly mouths of cannon yawning at us from the top of a castle that is at least one thousand, and perhaps fifteen hundred years old. The central part of the little city, where the Moslem population lives, is still partly enclosed by the old wall, while the Christian population live outside.

Trebizond is older than Rome. It was founded by a colony of Greeks from the neighbouring town of Sinope in the year 756 B.C., while Rome was not founded until three years later, in 753. But even the good people of Trebizond will admit that Rome is a little ahead of their own town at present. After the Romans drove out the Greeks the emperor Trajan made Trebizond the capital of the province of Cappadocia, and Hadrian built the harbour, which wasn’t a very good job, for the anchorage is so unsafe that in stormy weather the ships have to pull up anchor and run to Platena, seven miles westward, for safety. There is an unfinished pier and custom house, which our captain said had been building a hundred years and would not be finished for another hundred, according to the way the Turks do things. Just now passengers and cargo are handled at a small iron pier extending beyond the breakers, and it is a nasty place for people to land.

The Roman emperor, Justinian, built the original castle and gave the city its water supply, but most of the ruins date from the empire which was founded in 1204 by Alexius I, grandson of the Byzantine emperor, Andronicus I, who assumed the title of “Grand Comnenus.” Alexius had twenty successors and the empire lasted until 1461. In the meantime Trebizond, according to the historians, “was famed for its magnificence, the court for its luxury and elaborate ceremonials, while at the same time it was frequently a hotbed of intrigue and immorality.” The imperial family were renowned for their beauty, and the princesses were sought as brides not only by the Byzantine emperors, but by the Moslem rulers of Persia and the chiefs of the Mongols and Turkomans. The Grand Comneni were patrons of art and learning; the library of the palace was filled with valuable manuscripts; and the city was adorned with splendid buildings. The writers of that time speak with enthusiasm of its lofty towers, of the churches and monasteries in its suburbs, and especially of the gardens, orchards, and olive groves.

It is difficult to believe all this, but the ruins are there, and the mute walls of crumbling stone would probably confirm the statements if they could speak. There is an enormous monastery in ruins at the top of a hill, which is said to have played an important part in the history of the city and was the scene of a crisis which ended the empire. There is an old church in the suburbs which dates back nearly a thousand years and contains the tombs of several of the emperors of Trebizond and a monument to Solomon, one of the early kings of the neighbouring state of Georgia, now a Russian province.

About two miles west of the town is the Church of St. Sophia, which was built eight hundred years ago, and must have been a magnificent structure, judging from what remains. It has been a mosque for several centuries, but is seldom used these days. The pavement of many-coloured marble is very beautiful, and the walls are decorated with pictures in mosaic, like those in the mosques of Salonika, although the vandals have covered them with whitewash because they represent Christian saints and martyrs. In the vestibule, until 1843, was a fine fresco representing the emperor Alexius, his mother, the dowager Irene, and his wife, the empress Theodora, all clad in their imperial robes, but it mysteriously disappeared while the church was being repaired and has never been recovered. There are other relics of ancient times which one would like to know more about, but there was no one to tell us, and the archæologists have neglected this part of the world.

To a historical student, perhaps, the most interesting fact about Trebizond is that it was the end of the masterly retreat of the famous “Ten Thousand” under command of Xenophon, a newspaper man, whose story is told in the Anabasis. Every school-boy who has ever studied Greek knows more or less about it.

Darius, the great king of Persia, had two sons, Artaxerxes and Cyrus. The latter was not satisfied with the division of the kingdom and 400 B.C. organized an army in Greece and marched against his brother at Babylon. Xenophon accompanied the expedition as a war correspondent. When Cyrus was killed, his barbaric troops scattered, leaving ten thousand Greek mercenaries who had accompanied him to look after themselves in a desert between the Tigris and the Euphrates Rivers. Their commanders became rattled and lay down, whereupon Xenophon showed what newspaper men are capable of doing when responsibility falls upon them, by assuming command, reorganizing the force, and leading it back through an unknown country with marvellous skill. He had never served as a soldier, but like every other newspaper man was a master of the science of war.

The retreat of the “Ten Thousand” is one of the greatest military achievements in history, for, although he had no supplies and was compelled to forage on the people, and no knowledge of the geography or topography of the country, Xenophon conducted the “Ten Thousand” across Armenia and over the mountains to Trebizond, where the settlers received him with generous hospitality and assisted him to obtain boats to carry his soldiers back to Greece.

The American consul at Trebizond has a beautiful house with a terrace, and a view that is worth a fortune, and our government ought to buy it while it is possible, because there are very few houses suitable for a consulate in Trebizond and they are in great demand. Other nations own the houses that their consuls occupy and the United States ought to be equally prudent. The present consul is Dr. Milo A. Jewett, who was born in Turkey, the son of an American missionary, but was educated and practised medicine in Massachusetts until he came into the consular service many years ago.

There is an American school there also, in charge of Dr. L.S. Crawford of North Adams, Mass., who is doing great work under the direction of the American Board of Foreign Missions by educating young Trebizonians. All the students obtain a good knowledge of English, and their advanced courses are taken through the medium of that language.

Trebizond was the first mission station occupied east of Constantinople on the Black Sea. Thomas P. Johnson, the first American missionary, took up his residence there in 1835. The nearest mission station is at Erzroom, six days’ journey to the south, over extensive ranges of mountains and on one of the upper branches of the Euphrates River. The territory directly connected with this important city has a population of about 800,000 Mohammedans, 120,000 Greeks, and 32,000 Armenians. The city itself has a population of only 56,000, being now nearly four times as large as it was seventy-five years ago.

No large educational institution or important medical work has been built up in Trebizond, not because of the want of need or opportunity, but because it has not been possible to find a force sufficient for the other missions. The work carried on by Doctor and Mrs. Crawford, in the city itself, has been largely among the Armenians, while Ordoun, a large city on the Black Sea, west of Trebizond, has been the headquarters of a mission for the Greeks. As Trebizond is so near the Russian border and so accessible by water for all that part of Russia, there has been a most urgent call during the last few years for institutions there to meet the demands of the Russian young men who are seeking a modern education, but have no facilities for it in their own country. Many Russians go to the mission high school in Trebizond and it is evident that if a strong educational institution could be started there, it would have a wide patronage from the Russian coast of the Black Sea and from the Caucasus.

The city of Erzroom is situated on a high plateau six days inland from Trebizond. It stands at an elevation of some six thousand feet above the sea, and at the same time is surrounded by mountains rising a thousand or more feet above the plain. The most northerly branch of the Euphrates River rises to the eastward and flows down through the plain a little below the city. In times of drought this is only a trickling stream, but in the wet season it becomes a river of no small proportions. The city is one of the most important in the Turkish Empire, in that it is only about twelve hours’ journey from the Russian border. At the time of the Russo-Turkish war in 1878, it was occupied by the Russians for some time, until, through the pressure of the Powers, they were compelled to withdraw, and to their great disappointment the line between the two countries was established to the eastward and left it still a part of Turkey.

The mountains about the city are fortified by the Turks, and the city itself is enclosed in earthworks, the entrances being through guarded passage ways and heavy gates, to be shut in times of attack. Because of the strategic importance of the post, the Turkish governor is usually a man of large military experience. It is believed that should war break out between Turkey and Russia, and it may happen at any time, Erzroom would be the first point of attack. For the same reason the great European Powers maintain in Trebizond consuls of unusual ability, and not infrequently these consuls have had extensive military experience.

Erzroom, like most of the large cities of interior Turkey, is the centre of a great number of smaller cities and villages scattered over the far-stretching plain and into the ravines of the mountains. There is a large Kurdish population to the south and east of Erzroom, which presents in itself a considerable problem. Erzroom itself has for many years been the headquarters of an army corps of the Turkish Empire, maintained there particularly to keep order among the various antagonistic races, especially the Kurds, and particularly to guard the frontier against undue aggression on the part of Russia.

The people of Erzroom and vicinity, like mountain people generally, are unusually hardy and vigorous, with a large degree of independence. The city itself, so far as wealth is concerned, is hardly surpassed by any of the interior cities of Turkey. Its merchants go all over the empire, and as a centre of trade with Persia as well as with Europe Erzroom holds a unique place.

Since the city was occupied as a mission station in 1840, many distracting events have occurred, such as the war of 1877–78, when it was taken by the Russians and, following the siege, was sorely afflicted by the plague. One of the American missionaries, Rev. Royal M. Cole, D.D., then in Erzroom, went to the front with the army to care for the wounded and the suffering, and gave himself wholly to this work so long as the war lasted, devoting himself to the sick after the Russian troops had withdrawn. Two of his own children died from the plague at that time. Again in 1895 Erzroom came within the massacre belt and suffered greatly from the attacks upon the Christians by the Turks and Kurds.

Beside the evangelistic activity, two lines of work have been developed at Erzroom that have had great influence and won the approbation of Turkish officials: namely, education and medical relief for both men and women. An American nurse, left in charge of the missionary hospital in the absence of the missionary physician who went home on furlough, was invited by the military authorities to take charge of the military hospital, which she did, and was there brought into direct contact with Turkish soldiers. This is the first time, to my knowledge, that a Christian missionary nurse, at the invitation of army officials, was ever identified with the staff of a Mohammedan hospital or given unhampered freedom in contact with Mohammedans. Her ministrations were most gratefully received and by her example she removed from the minds of many Moslems deep-seated prejudices against Christianity.

Mrs. Dr. Stapleton, a trained lady physician of unusual skill and tact, has had access during many years to the homes of the high Turkish officials, where she meets with a cordial welcome. She has no hospital, but does her medical work almost wholly by visitation in the homes, and largely the homes of the officials. It takes time to break down the prejudices of honest Mohammedan believers, many of whom have a conviction that Christianity is an inferior religion and that those who profess it lack the moral virtues. These opinions cannot be changed by argument or by preaching, and only by that close personal contact that a physician may have with his patients in their homes during periods of protracted illness. This, of all the methods of missionary work, is most effective. It does not show results that can be tabulated; but nevertheless is far-reaching in its influence and power, and ultimately will accomplish much by changing the attitude of those who have believed that there is nothing good in Christianity.

The school work in Erzroom does not differ from that at Sivas and Trebizond. There are boarding-schools for both young men and young women, always separate, as they must be in the Turkish Empire. The importance of the boarding-school as a missionary force can hardly be over-estimated. Into these schools young men and young women are brought, often from rude homes and not infrequently from homes that exert a demoralizing and harmful influence upon the children. The boarding-school is so arranged that it becomes a new home to the pupils. They are surrounded by wholesome influences. Their minds are constantly stimulated to activity and they are led unconsciously to adopt American methods and helpful ideas. Children coming from a distance often remain the entire year under these influences before returning to their homes. Sometimes employment is given them during the vacation months so that they stay longer. One can readily imagine the change that takes place in a young man or young woman who has never before been out of one of the rude villages after a year or two of this refining experience and inspiring instruction.

When these young people return to their homes the change that has taken place in them makes a profound impression upon the entire village. The value of education is promptly recognized, and often one pupil from a district in the interior of the country will be the means of bringing dozens of others to the school, sent by parents who, ambitious for their children, wish for them the same kind of education and to see in them the same advance that has appeared in the child of a neighbour. One does not need to use his imagination to see how the entire villages and communities are elevated through a single pupil who has spent, it may be, no more than a couple of years in an American mission boarding-school in some remote city and who, upon his return, not only exercises a silent influence for education and morals, but may at once open a school for the children of his own village.

This represents, in a simple way, something of the influence and power of the missionary boarding-school upon the region in which it is located. While time is required for the full exercise of this influence, and while the lines can only in the remotest degree ever be traced, it is found that they are far-reaching and fundamental. These schools also prepare students for college. The graduates of the two high schools at Erzroom have gone chiefly to the colleges at Harpoot, Marsovan, and Constantinople.

The city of Sivas, in Asia Minor, was occupied by the Americans as a mission station in 1851. It is located on the old caravan road extending from Samsoun, through Tokat and Amasia, an eight days’ journey by camel, but now covered easily in six days by the Turkish Arabs. It is on the route of the proposed American railroad now under discussion, which is expected to extend eastward into Mamurettaul-Aziz, in the vilayet of Harpoot, and so on southward.

Sivas is noted among archæologists for its ruins of the Seljuko, an ancient Persian dynasty, some of which reveal in their fragments the splendour of the structure of which they formed a part. The city is in the midst of a large and fertile plain, and is the central market for a wide area. It was selected as a location for missionary work because of its strategic position on the caravan road, and its large and thrifty population, which is composed of Turks, Kurds, Greeks, and Armenians.

One of the first missionaries sent into that country was a physician, Doctor West, who, by his successful practice, and, to them, astounding surgical operations, won a reputation which stands to-day unsurpassed even so far as the remote villages of the mountains of that district. The natives still tell of the miracles which Doctor West performed with his surgical instruments, and one can rest assured that these stories have lost nothing as they have passed on into the second generation and are still doing service in support of scientific medicine. They made it difficult for a modern physician to live up to the reputation of the first missionary doctor seen in that region. As might be expected, this work, at once recognized as of such importance, has been maintained and an American physician is now located at Sivas with a hospital and dispensary.

At the time of Doctor West there were no missionary hospitals, and the dispensary usually consisted of a cupboard in a corner of the doctor’s office, or more frequently of saddle bags from which he drew according to his needs on his journeys up and down the country. The first missionary physicians were itinerants with no office hours, but ready whenever and wherever called to render relief to the sick and suffering to the limit of their power. Under the changes that have taken place since those days, the physician naturally and rightfully demands a place in which he can care for patients who are seriously ill or after surgical operations, until danger is passed.

There was no hospital in Sivas until six years ago, when a small house was hired with four beds in it. After passing through various changes, it is now equipped with twenty beds, with a royal permit from Constantinople which puts it upon a legal and recognized basis. The physician in charge, Charles E. Clark, M.D., has a trained nurse as an assistant. The patients who avail themselves of their services range all the way from the beggar on the street to the wealthy government official. Turkish Moslems, Circassian soldiers, Kurds, Armenians, all come to the American doctor and the American dispensary and hospital, when suffering. The hospital is crowded to such extent that it must be enlarged to accommodate not only the hospital patients, but the clinics in the dispensary. The demands which press upon the physician cannot be met with the present equipment. Over five thousand patients were treated in the year 1910.

Several of the colleges administered by American missionaries in Turkey have passed out of the first period of their history, that of laying foundations, and have entered on a period of expansion. One hundred and thirteen high schools and boarding-schools which are the feeders for the colleges, have hitherto lacked the attention and the money necessary for their best development, but now that they are firmly established more attention is being given to the lower schools, without which the colleges cannot do their best work. Several of these high schools are the educational centres of territory larger in extent and containing a greater population than some of our American states.

The Sivas Normal School, located in the heart of Sivas, a city of 65,000 people, and the capital of the ancient Seljuks, is a good example, and until recently was unique in Turkey in the attention it gives to training teachers for the common schools.

More than twenty-five years ago, the American missionaries, because of the increasing need of more and better prepared teachers, decided to strengthen a common school which was being carried on under their direction and to raise the standard to that of a high school. The name Sivas Normal School was given to it at that time to represent the consciousness of the need and the purpose. Those who laid the foundations were Rev. Henry T. Perry, who is still connected with the school, and Rev. Albert W. Hubbard. Whatever has been accomplished since in making the school a more effective and wider agency for Christian education has been built on the foundation which they laid.

About fifteen years ago, when a striking increase of interest in education began to appear in the Sivas field, two men of exceptional ability as teachers became associated in its management. Mr. Baliosian, a graduate of the normal school, returned after completing his course of study in Central Turkey College, and soon Mr. Kabakjian came from Anatolia College to join him. Many good ideas and influences from these two strong colleges were thus introduced into the normal school and it was due in no small degree to the coöperation of these two men that it began to progress rapidly. The number of students grew in a few years from twenty-five to one hundred and thirty, greatly overcrowding the building which had been enlarged to its fullest possible capacity.

The educational system which has been developed by the missionaries in Sivas now includes about four thousand pupils, of whom nine hundred are in the city under their direct care; two thirds are in the lower grades; four hundred and thirty are boys, of whom about one hundred are in the normal school.

The Turkish officials are making strenuous efforts to establish a thorough compulsory educational system for all classes of Ottoman subjects. They are having the same difficulty that China experienced a few years ago when that government set about to build up a comprehensive system of education for her people and could not find teachers competent to do the work required. There has been a great reaction in China for that reason, and New Turkey is now facing exactly the same problem. The minister of public instruction and his associates are convinced that there must be a system of general education in Turkey in order to make constitutional and representative government safe and stable. And how are they to secure teachers with proper training to make them competent for the work? The Turkish schools hitherto have not provided them, and the American colleges, although filled with students for the last twenty years, have not been able to turn out more than a fraction of the number required to supply the Turkish national schools, to say nothing of the demands of private institutions.

To aid in meeting these demands a normal school has been established at Sivas and is preparing to give a thorough modern training to young men who are fitting themselves for the profession of teacher. For all such there is a future full of promise. The American Board purchased a fine site just outside the city and is now endeavouring to secure funds to complete a commodious and attractive building to accommodate the number of ambitious students knocking at its doors. If this school were equipped to train a thousand young men and to send out annually two hundred graduates with the most complete normal training that could be given them in a course of five years, it would not begin to meet the demand that New Turkey is placing upon it at the present time.

You must not forget that a large proportion of the people of Turkey are villagers, uneducated and unambitious, but full of possibilities if properly trained. It is to meet the needs of this intelligent but untrained village population that the normal school exists. It is expected that the government schools will take all the graduates and set them to work as rapidly as they can be prepared for it. Wherever these teachers are sent in the villages of Turkey, they will be the best educated men of the entire region, and their influence will be tremendous for peace, order, progress, education, and for the building up of a new society on the basis of Western Christian civilization. School committees in these villages, priests and bishops of the old churches, are clamouring for teachers. The success of constitutional government depends upon raising the general level of thought and character, and all this depends upon the supply of proper teachers.

The studies provided are the ordinary American course for normal training, including the theory and practice of teaching and school management, lectures on the common branches by speakers of experience, and a considerable amount of practice teaching under proper supervision. A year’s course in pedagogy is also given.

American missionaries tell me that the education of women has been a critical subject of discussion among the inhabitants of Sivas and that part of Turkey. In the interior provinces it has been the common belief that women cannot learn to read under the most favourable circumstances; in intellectual ability it was customary to class them with animals. Not infrequently in conversation with men of the last generation the statement would be made that a girl could no more learn to read than a donkey, and at any rate, of what possible use in the world could a reading woman be? It was often asserted that, if women learned to read, the whole fabric of Turkish society would be overturned, since they would become independent, would be liable to talk back when beaten by their husbands, and make trouble for the family and the community. It was the general opinion that it was safer to leave women in ignorance, even if the point should be conceded that they were capable of learning anything under the most favourable conditions.

The first missionaries who went into the country fought these theories down, largely by hiring girls to attend school in order to demonstrate the fact that they can learn to read. The girls of Turkey are as bright as those of any country, and generally the languages of Turkey are easier to learn than English, so that in every case the missionary won. He was careful to select bright girls for the tests, and in no instance was there a failure. They demonstrated that it was possible for a girl to learn to read and that in very quick time. A little group of ten girls was gathered into a school in Sivas away back in 1864, and from that time to this the education of this sex has not been neglected. In two years that little school had thirty-two pupils. It became so popular that the Armenian bishop twice anathematized the school and its teachers, but that only tended to advertise it and the number of pupils rapidly increased.

The present High School for Girls, which had only four pupils in 1874 and was located in an old native house, has attained extensive influence and power, not only through the pupils themselves, but through the five hundred and sixty girls in various other schools in the city, all of which are affiliated with this high school, and those in other cities, like Gurum, Tokat, Divrik, Endires, Zara, etc., where all the teachers are its graduates. What is perhaps of equal importance is that the Gregorian priests have founded and are now carrying on similar schools for girls in many of the centres of population in the vilayet, in which the American methods have been adopted, American courses are taught, and American ideas about the education of women are accepted and are in practical operation. This recognition of missionary methods is as sincere as it is general; an imitation is the most genuine endorsement.

In addition to the medical and educational work it has been necessary for the American missionaries, especially in the interior towns of Turkey, during the last fifteen years, to open orphanages for the accommodation of the great number of children that have been left wholly destitute by the frequent massacres. This began in 1895, at the time of the great massacres which swept over so much of the Turkish Empire, when more than three hundred children were gathered into an orphanage in Sivas. Our missionaries were aided by helpers sent out from Switzerland under a Swiss committee, so that the work has become international in its character. These children have been given comfortable Christian homes and a modern education. It became necessary to introduce many forms of industry for them that they might not be idle and to enable them to bear at least a part of the expense of their support and schooling. Later this work was enlarged somewhat to include relief for widows.

As missionary enterprises, all these lines of work are connected with general Christian instruction in no way hostile to the belief and thoughts of the people. The instruction given has been constructive and helpful rather than destructive and combative.

Trebizond is the terminus of the northern caravan route from Persia, and about 30 per cent. of the commerce of the city is carried back and forth on camels. The road over which the caravans travel is the same that Xenophon followed in the retreat of the “Ten Thousand,” and it has been kept in fairly good condition all these centuries, although it is scarcely fit for vehicles. In former years about twenty thousand camels arrived annually at Trebizond, each carrying from four hundred to five hundred pounds. So much of the trade has been diverted through the Caucasus by the new Russian road from Teheran to Rescht and the railway through the Caucasus, that not more than eight thousand to ten thousand camels are employed at present.

The distances between the principal points along the caravan route are as follows:

	Miles
From Trebizond to Erzroom	198
Erzroom to the Persian frontier	156
Persian frontier to Tabriz	162
Tabriz to Teheran	344
Total distance from Trebizond to Teheran	860

The caravans usually take sixty days for the journey each way, twenty-four days from Trebizond to the frontier and thirty-six days from the frontier to Teheran.

Formerly travellers for Teheran used to go that way and made the journey upon swift-moving camels in about twenty days. The route to Persia via the steamers on the Black Sea to Batoum, the railway across the Caucasus, and steamers on the Caspian Sea is quicker, shorter, and cheaper, and hence the trade goes that way.

The caravans stop at a khan (as the old-fashioned hotels are called where entertainment is given to both man and beast), just outside of Trebizond, and we went down there to see the camels and their drivers. Two hundred camels had just arrived from Persia after a journey of thirty days, bringing twelve hundred bags of rice. I talked with the boss driver, a gigantic Persian with a broad, cheerful face, who told me that he had never been anywhere but along the same route between Tabriz and Trebizond, and had travelled that regularly two or three times a year for more than twenty years. Caravans often went to Tibet and as far as China, he said, but he had never been that far.

The camels used on this line are a common species of dromedary with only one hump, and cost all the way from $50 to $150 each, according to age and condition. There is no regular system of camel-breeding in Asia Minor, although that animal is the only beast of burden and is absolutely indispensable. Most of the animals used here come from Arabia, where they are bred by the Bedouins, and at the age of three years are broken to load. The strength of a camel begins to decline at twenty years, and after he reaches twenty-five he is not worth much. An ordinary caravan is made up of groups of seven camels in charge of one man, who leads them, feeds them, and cares for them from the time he is twenty years old until they all die together. A camel driver has no home. He is a nomad. He never has anything but the clothes he wears. He sleeps with one of his camels for a pillow, and it might be said that he eats the same food, which consists of straw and beans. A caravan is usually led by a little donkey, for camels, as well as human beings, will follow donkeys wherever they may go, in a most mysterious manner.

A camel is never relieved of its load from the beginning to the end of a journey. It eats, sleeps, and travels under its burden, often for weeks at a time, and will carry six hundred pounds without a murmur. When the load is off, the driver rides, but when the load is on he walks by the side of his charge.

Camels are used for all kinds of purposes, the same as horses. They are broken to saddle and to wagon. They are hitched to plows and haul saw logs out of the forests. They can go for ten days over a desert without water. Their stomachs are divided into compartments and the contents are digested in order, one after the other, as the system needs nourishment. And it is often said that a “fifth stomach” is kept as a reserve for an emergency.

Our word caravansary comes from the Turkish term caravanseria, which means literally a bower for caravans, or a resting place where the animals are fed and the camel driver eats his bread and drinks his wine. He gets nothing and pays for nothing except space, shelter, and protection against robbers and thieves. These caravanserias are found in every town along the caravan roads. They are distinguished from khans—which are usually square enclosures or court-yards paved with stone, with rooms opening upon them, where travellers can store their goods, and often a gallery and a second floor, where the better class can obtain lodgings. These khans may be found in Constantinople and in every other Eastern city, and in the day-time are busy places, the freighters loading and unloading and merchants showing their goods to customers. At sunset the gates are closed, the donkeys and the animals lie down to sleep, and their drivers lie down beside them.

There is a long range of snow-clad mountains along the southern coast of the Black Sea reaching almost the entire distance from Trebizond to Rizeh, the next stopping place, and between them and the water side are low foothills covered with farms. The new wheat was a vivid green that lights up a lovely picture. There is no more beautiful sea coast. Indeed, there is nothing to surpass that landscape in the Alps, or the Pyrenees, or the Andes, or the Rocky Mountains, or anywhere else, owing to the great variety of scenery that lies between the water and the snow-capped crags. In May, when we were there, nature is all smiles. Both the woods and the fields are alive with glory. The foliage is perfect; rhododendrons and azaleas hide the scars in the rocks and creepers drape the rugged cliffs with a profusion of garlands that artificial decorations cannot compare with. Here and there the farming land is broken by a lofty precipice rising a thousand feet or more directly out of luxuriant vegetation, just as an artist would put some bold figure into a picture to offer a contrast to the peaceful, cultivated slope. And the lofty mountain peaks look bolder and sterner because they rise so near the wheat fields, the gentle valleys dotted with white villages, and the sombre forests that are so thick and so green.

We were told that the finest oranges, cherries, and other fruits in the world come from the slopes that line the shore of the Black Sea. We were told, too, that cherries got their name from the town of Kerasun, which was called Cherryson by the Greeks. We were too early, of course, for all the fruits except oranges, but the captain said that in the summer and fall cherries, grapes, plums, peaches, pears, and melons, finer than can be found in Paris, “can be bought for almost nothing.”

The people of the villages on that part of the coast, and particularly those of the town of Rizeh, are sailors and fishermen. They are wild, reckless, handsome fellows, wearing short open jackets of scarlet or blue, with zouave trousers, purple or yellow sashes bound around their waists, and a knotted black turban with the tasselled ends hanging down over their shoulders. Most of the seamen on the Turkish cruisers and gunboats come from that town and the neighbouring villages.

“Rizeh is the most beautiful place on the Black Sea,” said the captain with a shrug, “but everybody carries a knife, and would not hesitate to kill a stranger for his hat or his handkerchief.”

And we learned afterward that there were two hundred murderers serving sentences of from fifteen years to life in the prison that day. We saw several of the short-sentence men at the windows as we passed the prison, and somebody was standing on a tomb in the cemetery under the windows talking to them in a loud tone. The people on the street did not appear to pay any attention to him, although he was very much in earnest.

Near by was a more interesting crowd. Our steamer brought the mail from Constantinople and fifty or sixty citizens of Rizeh were gathered in a compact body around the steps of the post-office, while some gentleman read the news aloud to them. We were told it was a regular practice every time a mail came in. Most of the population are illiterate, but they are intensely patriotic and partisan, and keep close tab on political events at Constantinople and elsewhere.

They must be very superstitious, also, judging by the precautions they adopt to protect their houses and fields from the evil eye and other uncanny influences. The skull of a goat or a sheep, with a bunch of red peppers attached to it, was hanging from the corner of the eaves of almost every dwelling. We saw similar amulets in the gardens, orchards, and fields to protect the fruit and the crops. An old shoe and a bunch of garlic are equally efficacious, we are told, if you haven’t the skull of a sheep. The peasants in the country believe in miraculous cures, in witchcraft, and all such things, and often sacrifice animals at the shrines of saints to fulfil vows they have made in times of danger or distress. On a certain day in summer they splash water over each other; in the spring every woman releases a pigeon she has kept during the winter, and in some places the women go out to welcome the storks which fly in here at a certain time of the year. A new baby is always passed over a flame and young girls leap through fire to insure good husbands.

The patriarchal system prevails very generally among the farmer peasants, and the father, or after his death the eldest son, is the head and dictator of the family. A newly married couple always go to live in the house of the groom’s father, and the bride is condemned to perpetual silence in the presence of the family until her first child is born or until another marriage takes place in the same house. A young wife is not permitted to speak to any one save her own husband, and to him only when they are alone. But after her first baby is born she is considered worthy of sufficient respect to be recognized as a member of the household.

Although this practice doubtless would not be encouraged by the Daughters of the Revolution or the suffragettes, nevertheless, every one will admit that it has its advantages. I have read the wise comments of a certain Baron Haxthausen, a learned German who spent some time in that country forty or fifty years ago and saw many things to approve. The herr professor must have had some painful matrimonial experience, for he commended this custom as tending to increase the peace of a family as well as conjugal devotion. He is very positive that its adoption in other countries would reduce the business of the divorce courts and promote the peace and happiness of mankind.

Group of Lazis, Armenia, ready for a dance

“Imagine five or six women living together in the same house,” he says, “and a new member added to the company with the pride and vanity which are usually felt by a bride. Should we not anticipate continued dissension which the authority in the head of the family is unable to prevent? Much unhappiness and quarrelling arise from the use of women’s tongues, and what is so certain a cure as silence? It is only in the rarest cases that a bride submits gracefully to the opinion and the authority of her mother-in-law. She usually enters the family with a disposition to assert her independence, and if her freedom of speech is restrained, this cannot be done to an extent that will be offensive. Indeed, I cannot imagine a more wholesome custom than that which restrains the conversational powers of a young woman entering a new family.”

It must be distinctly understood that the above opinions are in quotation marks, and those who do not agree with them are not compelled to act upon the recommendations. And, notwithstanding these precautions, you will remember that the prison at Rizeh is full of murderers. How many of them are women and how many are brides is not stated.

These people are called Lazis, and this part of Armenia is known as Lazistan. They belong to the Georgian race and came there from Georgia, which lies a little farther along, west of the Caucasus Mountains, in order to escape persecution from their neighbours because they accepted the Mohammedan faith. It sounds refreshing to hear that a Mohammedan has been persecuted on religious grounds. It is the first case of the kind I have ever known, and the Lazis showed their good sense by coming over into a Mohammedan country after accepting that religion. And they are said to be very fanatical about it, as converts often are, and will stab a man for a difference of opinion on theology, as soon as cut his throat for his purse. At the same time, they are the most highly skilled gardeners in all the Ottoman Empire and are conspicuous, under ordinary circumstances, for their quiet, orderly behaviour, for their industry, honesty, and fair dealing. We can testify to the last fact, because we always made a bargain with the boatmen who took us ashore from the steamer at every port we stopped, and those at Rizeh are the only ones that did not demand more money than they had agreed to accept.

With all these virtues, they have been known to dodge their religious obligations. During the Mohammedan Lent, which is called Ramazan, every faithful member of that faith is bound to abstain from all kinds of nourishment, stimulants, and pleasures between sunrise and sunset; but the Lazis continue to smoke all day long on the pretext that tobacco was unknown to the prophet Mohammed, and therefore its use could not have been forbidden by him.

And so far as persecution is concerned, they have proven very handy when a massacre has been ordered, and no pious Moslem ever cut the throat of a Christian or burned his home with so much zeal as they have shown on several occasions. Nearly all of the Armenian population has been driven back into the country by the fanatical outbreaks of the Lazis, and the Greeks, who were the original settlers and civilizers of that coast, have been driven across to the Russian side of the Black Sea, where they can worship in their own way without being interfered with. But the whole world will be glad to learn that it is believed that religious persecution is at an end in Armenia. No people have ever suffered so much or have ever shown greater loyalty and tenacity to the faith which they profess.

During the thirteenth, fourteenth, and part of the fifteenth centuries the Venetians controlled this coast, and their rivals in the Genoese Republic continually attempted to drive them out. Every port was protected by a formidable castle and every town was surrounded by a high wall. The Venetian castle at Rizeh has been almost entirely obliterated, although its site is marked by a pile of débris, and one can trace the foundations upon the summit overlooking the bay. The city wall is quite perfect in places and can be followed for half a mile or more on one side of the town. The Venetian influence appears in a striking manner in the architecture. There are several distinctly Venetian houses that contribute to the charming picture which this little city embowered in foliage presents from the deck of a ship. And the cottages are unique in their designs and methods of construction, suggesting the familiar Elizabethan school so common in English villages. The walls are made of cross pieces of wood with the spaces between them filled in with masonry, broad roofs, overhanging eaves, narrow windows, and loggias.

Everybody seems to be fond of brilliant colours, which makes the place look gay, although the women keep their faces hid and envelop their bodies in large cotton shawls. They select the gayest patterns they can find, which, of course, makes them all the more conspicuous. The guide book says that Rizeh is a great place for linen and other fabrics, and that the women weave their own shawls, but the fashion must have changed since the book was written, because we inquired at several of the shops and found that all of the dry-goods offered for sale were made in Germany, in imitation of the old home-made patterns.

Batoum, the Colchis of the ancients, where Jason and the Argonauts captured the golden fleece, is the only seaport of the Russian province of the Caucasus and the only outlet for the trade of that vast and productive area. It is the terminus of nearly all the lines of steamers on the Black Sea, and, therefore, a place of great importance. There is a railway across the Caucasus between the Black and the Caspian Seas, a pipe line for conveying oil from Baku and special docks for loading tank steamers with that kind of freight.

Batoum was a part of Turkey until the year 1878, and was awarded to Russia by the Treaty of Berlin, in which the European Powers all participated, as part of the price which Turkey was compelled to pay for peace. Since the cession the place has been strongly fortified by the Russians, notwithstanding a stipulation in that convention against it. There is a population of about thirty thousand, very cosmopolitan. All the Turkish clans are represented and there are about six thousand Greeks. There is an old and a new town. The former is a duplication of one hundred small Turkish cities with bazaars, mosques, cafés, and khans, where travellers and caravans find accommodations for themselves, their animals, and their merchandise. All of the labour is done by Armenians, Georgians, Greeks, Turks, and Circassians and representatives of a dozen other races, each of which adheres tenaciously to its native costume as well as its native customs.