Chapter XIII: In Persia and Turkey--Tabreez to Tokat and the Tomb

On the evening of September 2, 1812, Henry Martyn left Tabreez for Constantinople, on what he describes as 'my long journey of thirteen hundred miles.' The route marked out for him by Sir Gore Ouseley, who gave him letters to the Turkish governors of Erivan, Kars, and Erzroom, and to the British Minister at Constantinople, as well as to the Armenian Patriarch and Bishop Nestus at Etchmiatzin, was the old Roman road into Central Asia. Professor W.M. Ramsay describes it as clearly marked by Nature,[85] and still one of the most important trade routes. It was the safest and speediest, as well as the least forbidding. 'Sir Gore, wishing me not to travel in the same unprotected way I had done, procured from the Prince a _mehmandar_ for me, together with an order for the use of _chappar_ horses all the way to Erivan.' Thence he was passed on to Kars similarly attended, and thence to Erzroom. He took with him 'near three hundred _tomans_ in money,' or about 130_l._ On the eve of his departure he wrote: 'The delightful thought of being brought to the borders of Europe, without sustaining any injury, contributed more than anything else, I believe, to restore my health and spirits.'

But travelling in Persia and Asiatic Turkey, even at the best and for the strongest, is necessarily a work of hardship. The _chappar_, or post-stations, occur at a distance of from twenty to twenty-five miles, measured by the _farsakh_, the old parasang in Greek phrase, of four miles each. What Mrs. Bishop has recently described has always been true: 'The custom is to ride through all the hours of daylight, whenever horses are to be got, doing from sixty to ninety miles a day.' Henry Martyn rode his own horses, and his party of two Armenian servants (a groom and Turkish interpreter), with the _mehmandar_, had the post-horses. Out of the cities he had to trust, for rest and accommodation, to the post-stations, which at the best were enclosures of mud walls on three sides, deep in manure, with stabling on two sides, and two dark rooms at the entrance for the servants. Occasionally an erection (_balakhana_) above the gateway is available for the master, but how seldom Martyn was lodged in any way better than the animals, will be seen from his _Journal_. He had travelled in this way, in the heats of two summers, from Bushire to Shiraz, and from Shiraz to Tabreez, the whole extent of the Persian plateau from south to north. He had nearly died at Tabreez.

Yet now, with his Persian New Testament ready for the press and his longing for Lydia, he again set forth, sustained by 'the delightful thought.' With intensest interest we follow him in every step of his march north-west through the Persian province of Azerbaijan, Armenia, and Eastern Asia Minor, the unconquerable spirit sustaining the feeble body for forty-five days, as Chrysostom's was fed in his southern journey to the same place of departure almost within sight of the Euxine Sea.

_1812, September 2._--At sunset we left the western gate of
Tabreez behind us. The horses proved to be sorry animals. It was
midnight before we arrived at Sangla, a village in the middle of
the plain of Tabreez. There they procured me a place in the
Zabit's house. I slept till after sunrise of the 3rd, and did
not choose to proceed at such an hour; so I passed most of the
day in my room. At three in the afternoon proceeded towards
Sofian. My health being again restored, through infinite and
unbounded mercy, I was able to look round the creation with calm
delight. The plain of Tabreez, towards the west and south-west,
stretches away to an immense distance, and is bounded in these
directions by mountains so remote as to appear, from their soft
blue, to blend with the skies. The baggage having been sent on
before, I ambled on with my _mehmandar_, looking all around me,
and especially towards the distant hills, with gratitude and
joy. Oh! it is necessary to have been confined to a bed of
sickness to know the delight of moving freely through the works
of God, with the senses left at liberty to enjoy their proper
object. My attendant not being very conversant with Persian, we
rode silently along; for my part, I could not have enjoyed any
companion so much as I did my own feelings. At sunset we reached
Sofian, a village with gardens, at the north-west end of the
plain, which is usually the first stage from Tabreez. The Zabit
was in his corn-field, under a little tent, inspecting his
labourers, who were cutting the straw fine, so as to be fit to
be eaten by cattle; this was done by drawing over it a cylinder,
armed with blades of a triangular form, placed in different
planes, so that their vertices should coincide in the cylinder.

The Zabit paid me no attention, but sent a man to show me a
place to sleep in, who took me to one with only three walls. I
demanded another with four, and was accordingly conducted to a
weaver's, where, notwithstanding the mosquitoes and other
vermin, I passed the night comfortably enough. On my offering
money, the _mehmandar_ interfered, and said that if it were
known that I had given money he should be ruined, and added:
'They, indeed, dare not take it;' but this I did not find to be
the case.

_September 4._--At sunrise mounted my horse, and proceeded
north-west, through a pass in the mountains, towards Murun. By
the way I sat down by the brook, and there ate my bread and
raisins, and drank of the crystal stream; but either the
coldness of this unusual breakfast, or the riding after it, did
not at all agree with me. The heat oppressed me much, and the
road seemed intolerably tedious. At last we got out from among
the mountains, and saw the village of Murun, in a fine valley on
the right. It was about eleven o'clock when we reached it. As
the _mehmandar_ could not immediately find a place to put me in,
we had a complete view of this village. They stared at my
European dress, but no disrespect was shown. I was deposited at
last with a Khan, who was seated in a place with three walls.
Not at all disposed to pass the day in company, as well as
exposed, I asked for another room, on which I was shown to the
stable, where there was a little place partitioned off, but so
as to admit a view of the horses. The smell of the stable,
though not in general disagreeable to me, was so strong that I
was quite unwell, and strangely dispirited and melancholy.
Immediately after dinner I fell fast asleep and slept four
hours, after which I rose and ordered them to prepare for the
next journey. The horses being changed here, it was some time
before they were brought, but, by exerting myself, we moved off
by midnight. It was a most mild and delightful night, and the
pure air, after the smell of the stable, was quite reviving.
For once, also, I travelled all the way without being sleepy;
and beguiled the hours of the way by thinking of the 14th Psalm,
especially the connection of the last three verses with the
preceding.

_September 5._--In five hours we were just on the hills which
face the pass out of the valley of Murun (Marand), and in four
hours and a half more emerged from between the two ridges of
mountains into the valley of Gurjur. Gurjur is eight parasangs
from Murun, and our course to it was nearly due north. This long
march was far from being a fatiguing one. The air, the road, and
my spirits were good. Here I was well accommodated, but had to
mourn over my impatient temper towards my servants; there is
nothing that disturbs my peace so much. How much more noble and
godlike to bear with calmness, and observe with pity, rather
than with anger, the failings and offences of others! Oh, that I
may, through grace, be enabled to recollect myself in the time
of temptation! Oh, that the Spirit of God may check my folly,
and at such times bring the lowly Saviour to my view!

_September 6._--Soon after twelve we started with fresh horses,
and came to the Aras, or Araxes, distant two parasangs, and
about as broad as the Isis, and a current as strong as that of
the Ganges. The ferry-boat being on the north side, I lay down
to sleep till it came; but observing my servants do the same, I
was obliged to get up and exert myself. It dawned, however,
before we got over. The boat was a huge fabric in the form of a
rhombus. The ferryman had only a stick to push with; an oar, I
dare say, he had never seen or heard of, and many of my train
had probably never floated before;--so alien is a Persian from
everything that belongs to shipping. We landed safely on the
other side in about two minutes. We were four hours in reaching
Nakshan, and for half an hour more I was led from street to
street, till at last I was lodged in a wash-house belonging to a
great man, a corner of which was cleaned out for me. It was
near noon and my baggage was not arrived, so that I was obliged
to go without my breakfast, which was hard after a ride of four
hours in the sun. The baggage was delayed so long that I began
to fear; at last, however, it arrived. All the afternoon I
slept, and at sunset arose, and continued wakeful till midnight,
when I aroused my people, and with fresh horses set out again.
We travelled till sunrise. I scarcely perceived that we had been
moving, a Hebrew word in the 16th Psalm having led me gradually
into speculations on the eighth conjugation of the Arabic verb.
I am glad my philological curiosity is revived, as my mind will
be less liable to idleness.

_September 7._--Arrived at Khok, a poor village, distant five
and a half parasangs from Nakshan, nearly west. I should have
mentioned that, on descending into the plain of Nakshan, my
attention was arrested by the appearance of a hoary mountain
opposite to us at the other end, rising so high above the rest
that they sank into insignificance. It was truly sublime, and
the interest it excited was not lessened when, on inquiring its
name, I was told it was Agri, or Ararat. Thus I saw two
remarkable objects in one day, the Araxes and Ararat. At four in
the afternoon we set out for Shurour. The evening was pleasant;
the ground over which we passed was full of rich cultivation and
verdure, watered by many a stream, and containing forty
villages, most of them with the usual appendage of gardens. To
add to the scene, the great Ararat was on our left. On the peak
of that hill the whole Church was once contained; it was now
spread far and wide, even to the ends of the earth, but the
ancient vicinity of it knows it no more. I fancied many a spot
where Noah perhaps offered his sacrifices; and the promise of
God, that seed-time and harvest should not cease, appeared to me
to be more exactly fulfilled in the agreeable plain in which it
was spoken than elsewhere, as I had not seen such fertility in
any part of the Shah's dominions. Here the blessed saint landed
in a new world; so may I, safe in Christ, out-ride the storm of
life, and land at last on one of the everlasting hills!

Night coming on we lost our way, and got intercepted by some
deep ravines, into one of which the horse that carried my trunks
sunk so deep that the water got into one of them, wetted the
linen and spoiled some books. Finding it in vain to attempt
gaining our _munzil_, we went to another village, where, after a
long delay, two aged men with silver beards opened their house
to us. Though it was near midnight I had a fire lighted to dry
my books, took some coffee and sunk into deep sleep; from which
awaking at the earliest dawn of

_September 8_, I roused the people, and had a delightful ride of
one parasang to Shurour, distant four parasangs from Khok. Here
I was accommodated by the great man with a stable, or winter
room, for they built it in such a strange vicinity in order to
have it warm in winter. At present, while the weather is still
hot, the smell is at times overpowering. At eleven at night we
moved off, with fresh horses, for Duwala; but though we had
guides in abundance, we were not able to extricate ourselves
from the ravines with which this village is surrounded.
Procuring another man from a village we happened to wander into,
we at last made our way, through grass and mire, to the pass,
which led us to a country as dry as the one we had left was wet.
Ararat was now quite near; at the foot of it is Duwala, six
parasangs from Nakshan, where we arrived at seven in the morning
of

_September 9._--As I had been thinking all night of a Hebrew
letter, I perceived little of the tediousness of the way. I
tried also some difficulties in the 16th Psalm without being
able to master them. All day on the 15th and 16th Psalms, and
gained some light into the difficulties. The villagers not
bringing the horses in time, we were not able to go on at
night, but I was not much concerned, as I thereby gained some
rest.

_September 10._--All day at the village writing down notes on
the 15th and 16th Psalms. Moved at midnight, and arrived early
in the morning at Erivan.

_September 11._--I alighted at Hosein Khan, the governor's
palace, as it may be called, for he seems to live in a style
equal to that of a prince. Indeed, commanding a fortress on the
frontier, within six hours of the Russians, he is entrusted with
a considerable force, and is nearly independent of the Shah.
After sleeping two hours I was summoned to his presence. He at
first took no notice of me, but continued reading his Koran, it
being the Mohurrum. After a compliment or two he resumed his
devotions. The next ceremony was to exchange a rich shawl dress
for a still richer pelisse, on pretence of its being cold. The
next display was to call for his physician, who, after
respectfully feeling his pulse, stood on one side: this was to
show that he had a domestic physician. His servants were most
richly clad. My letter from the ambassador, which till now had
lain neglected on the ground, was opened and read by a moonshi.
He heard with great interest what Sir Gore had written about the
translation of the Gospels. After this he was very kind and
attentive, and sent for Lieutenant M., of the Engineers, who was
stationed, with two sergeants, at the fort. He ordered for me a
_mehmandar_, a guard, and four horses with which a Turk had just
come from Kars.

_September 12._--The horses not being ready, I rode alone and
found my way to Etchmiatzin (or Three Churches[86]), two and a
half parasangs distant. Directing my course to the largest
church, I found it enclosed by some other buildings and a wall.
Within the entrance I found a large court, with monks cowled and
gowned moving about. On seeing my Armenian letters they brought
me to the Patriarch's lodge, where I found two bishops, one of
whom was Nestus, at breakfast on pilaos, kuwabs, wine, arrak,
etc., and Serst (Serope) with them. As he spoke English, French,
and Italian, I had no difficulty in communicating with my hosts.

Serope, considering the danger to which the cathedral-seat is
exposed from its situation between Russia, Persia, and Turkey,
is for building a college at Tiflis. The errors and
superstitions of his people were the subject of Serope's
conversation the whole morning, and seemed to be the occasion of
real grief to him. He intended, he said, after a few more
months' trial of what he could do here, to retire to India, and
there write and print some works in Armenian, tending to
enlighten the people with regard to religion, in order to
introduce a reform. I said all I could to encourage him in such
a blessed work: promising him every aid from the English, and
proving to him, from the example of Luther and the other
European reformers, that, however arduous the work might seem,
God would surely be with him to help him. I mentioned the awful
neglect of the Armenian clergy in never preaching; as thereby
the glad tidings of a Saviour were never proclaimed. He made no
reply to this, but that 'it was to be lamented, as the people
were never called away from vice.'

_September 13._--I asked Serope about the 16th Psalm in the
Armenian version; he translated it into correct Latin. In the
afternoon I waited on the Patriarch; it was a visit of great
ceremony. He was reclining on a sort of throne, placed in the
middle of the room. All stood except the two senior bishops; a
chair was set for me on the other side, close to the Patriarch;
at my right hand stood Serope, to interpret. The Patriarch had a
dignified rather than a venerable appearance. His conversation
consisted in protestations of sincere attachment, in expressions
of his hopes of deliverance from the Mohammedan yoke, and
inquiries about my translations of the Scriptures; and he begged
me to consider myself as at home in the monastery. Indeed, their
attention and kindness are unbounded: Nestus and Serope
anticipate my every wish. I told the Patriarch that I was so
happy in being here that, did duty permit, I could almost be
willing to become a monk with them. He smiled, and fearing,
perhaps, that I was in earnest, said that they had quite enough.
Their number is a hundred, I think. The church was immensely
rich till about ten years ago, when, by quarrels between two
contending patriarchs, one of whom is still in the monastery in
disgrace, most of their money was expended in referring their
disputes to the Mohammedans as arbitrators. There is no
difficulty, however, in replenishing their coffers: their
merchants in India are entirely at their command.

_September 15._--Spent the day in preparing, with Serope, for
the mode of travelling in Turkey. All my heavy and expensive
preparations at Tabreez prove to be incumbrances which must be
left behind: my trunks were exchanged for bags; and my portable
table and chair, several books, large supplies of sugar, etc.,
were condemned to be left behind. My humble equipments were
considered as too mean for an English gentleman; so Serope gave
me an English bridle and saddle. The roads in Turkey being much
more infested with robbers than those of Persia, a sword was
brought for me.

_September 16._--Upon the whole I hardly know what hopes to
entertain from the projects of Serope. He is bold,
authoritative, and very able; still only thirty-one years of
age; but then he is not spiritual: perhaps this was the state of
Luther himself at first. It is an interesting time in the world;
all things proclaim the approach of the kingdom of God, and
Armenia is not forgotten. There is a monastery of Armenian
Catholics at Venice, which they employ merely in printing the
Psalter, book of prayers, etc. Serope intends addressing his
first work to them, as they are the most able divines of the
Armenians, to argue them back from the Roman Catholic communion,
in which case he thinks they would co-operate with him
cordially; being as much concerned as himself at the gross
ignorance of their countrymen. The Archbishop of Astrakhan has a
press, also an agent at Madras and one at Constantinople,
printing the Scriptures and books of prayers: there is none at
Etchmiatzin. At Constantinople are three or four
fellow-collegians of Serope, educated as well as he by the
Propaganda, who used to entertain the same sentiments as he, and
would, he thinks, declare them if he would begin.

_September 17._--At six in the morning, accompanied by Serope,
one bishop, the secretary, and several servants of the
monastery, I left Etchmiatzin. My party now consisted of two men
from the governor of Erivan, a _mehmandar_, and a guard; my
servant Sergius, for whom the monks interceded, as he had some
business at Constantinople; one trusty servant from the
monastery, Melcom, who carried my money; and two baggage-horses
with their owners. The monks soon returned, and we pursued our
way over the plain of Ararat. At twelve o'clock reached Quila
Gazki, about six parasangs from Etchmiatzin. The _mehmandar_
rode on, and got a good place for me.

_September 18._--Rose with the dawn, in hopes of going this
stage before breakfast, but the horses were not ready. I set off
at eight, fearing no sun, though I found it at times very
oppressive when there was no wind. At the end of three hours we
left the plain of Ararat, the last of the plains of modern
Persia in this quarter. Meeting here with the Araxes again, I
undressed and plunged into the stream.[87] While hastening
forward with the trusty Melcom to rejoin my party, we were
overtaken by a spearman with a lance of formidable length. I did
not think it likely that one man would venture to attack two,
both armed; but the spot was a noted one for robbers, and very
well calculated, by its solitariness, for deeds of privacy;
however, he was friendly enough. He had, however, nearly done me
a mischief. On the bank of the river we sprang a covey of
partridges; instantly he laid his lance under him across the
horse's back, and fired a horse-pistol at them. His horse,
starting at the report, came upon mine, with the point of the
spear directly towards me, so that I thought a wound for myself
or horse was inevitable; but the spear passed under my horse. We
were to have gone to Haji-Buhirem, but finding the head-man of
it at a village a few furlongs nearer, we stopped there. We
found him in a shed outside the walls, reading his Koran, with
his sword, gun, and pistol by his side. He was a good-natured
farmer-looking man, and spoke in Persian. He chanted the Arabic
with great readiness, and asked me whether I knew what that book
was: 'Nothing less than the great Koran!'

_September 19._--Left the village at seven in the morning, and
as the stage was reputed to be very dangerous, owing to the
vicinity of the famous Kara Beg, my _mehmandar_ took three armed
men from the village in addition to the one we brought from
Erivan. We continued going along through the pass two or three
parasangs, and crossed the Araxes three times. We then ascended
the mountains on the north by a road, if not so steep, yet as
long and difficult as any of the _kotuls_ of Bushire. On the top
we found a table-land, along which we moved many a tedious mile,
expecting every minute that we should have a view of a fine
champaign country below; but dale followed dale, apparently in
endless succession, and though at such a height there was very
little air to relieve the heat, and nothing to be seen but
barren rocks. One part, however, must be excepted, where the
prospect opened to the north, and we had a view of the Russian
territory, so that we saw at once, Persia, Russia, and Turkey.
At length we came to an Armenian village, situated in a hollow
of these mountains, on a declivity. The village presented a
singular appearance, being filled with conical piles of peat,
for they have no fire-wood. Around there was a great deal of
cultivation, chiefly corn. Most of the low land from Tabreez to
this place is planted with cotton, _Palma Christi_, and rice.
This is the first village in Turkey; not a Persian cap was to be
seen, the respectable people wore a red Turkish cap. The great
man of the village paid me a visit; he was a young Mussulman,
and took care of all my Mussulman attendants; but he left me and
my Armenians, where he found us, at the house of an Armenian,
without offering his services. I was rather uncomfortably
lodged, my room being a thoroughfare for horses, cows,
buffaloes, and sheep. Almost all the village came to look at me.
The name of this village is Fiwik, it is distant six parasangs
from the last; but we were eight hours accomplishing it, and a
kafila would have been twelve. We arrived at three o'clock; both
horses and men much fatigued.

_September 20._--From daybreak to sunrise I walked, then
breakfasted and set out. Our course lay north, over a mountain,
and here danger was apprehended. It was, indeed, dismally
solitary all around. The appearance of an old castle on the top
of a crag was the first occasion on which our guard got their
pieces ready, and one rode forward to reconnoitre: but all there
was as silent as the grave. At last, after travelling five
hours, we saw some men: our guard again took their places in
front. Our fears were soon removed by seeing carts and oxen. Not
so the opposite party: for my baggage was so small as not to be
easily perceived. They halted therefore at the bottom, towards
which we were both descending, and those of them who had guns
advanced in front and hailed us. We answered peaceably; but
they, still distrusting us as we advanced nearer, cocked their
pieces. Soon, however, we came to a parley. They were Armenians,
bringing wood from Kars to their village in the mountain: they
were hardy, fine young men, and some old men who were with them
were particularly venerable. The dangerous spots being passed
through, my party began to sport with their horses: galloping
across the path, brandishing their spears or sticks, they darted
them just at that moment of wheeling round their horses, as if
that motion gave them an advantage. It struck me that this,
probably, was the mode of fighting of the ancient Parthians
which made them so terrible in flight. Presently after these
gambols the appearance of some poor countrymen with their carts
put into their heads another kind of sport; for knowing, from
the ill-fame of the spot, that we should be easily taken for
robbers, four of them galloped forward, and by the time we
reached them one of the carters was opening a bag to give them
something. I was, of course, very much displeased, and made
signs to him not to do it. I then told them all, as we quickly
pursued our course, that such kind of sport was not allowed in
England; they said it was the Persian custom. We arrived at
length at Ghanikew, having ridden six hours and a half without
intermission. The _mehmandar_ was for changing his route
continually, either from real or pretended fear. One of the Kara
Beg's men saw me at the village last night, and as he would
probably get intelligence of my pretended route, it was
desirable to elude him. But after all we went the shortest way,
through the midst of danger, if there was any, and a gracious
Providence kept all mischief at a distance. Ghanikew is only two
parasangs from Kars, but I stopped there, as I saw it was more
agreeable to the people; besides which I wished to have a ride
before breakfast. I was lodged in a stable-room; but very much
at my ease, as none of the people of the village could come at
me without passing through the house.

_September 21._--Rode into Kars. Its appearance is quite
European, not only at a distance but within. The houses all of
stone; streets with carts passing; some of the houses open to
the street; the fort on an uncommonly high rock; such a
burying-ground I never saw, there must be thousands of
gravestones. The _mehmandar_ carried me directly to the
governor, who, having just finished his breakfast, was of course
asleep, and could not be disturbed; but his head-man carried me
to an Armenian's house, with orders to live at free quarter
there. The room at the Armenian's was an excellent one,
upstairs, facing the street, fort, and river, with a bow
containing five windows under which were cushions. As soon as
the Pacha was visible, the chief Armenian of Kars, to whom I had
a letter from Bishop Nestus, his relation, waited upon him on my
business. On looking over my letters of recommendation from Sir
Gore Ouseley, I found there was none for Abdallah, the Pacha of
Kars; however, the letter to the Governor of Erivan secured all
I wanted. He sent to say I was welcome; that if I liked to stay
a few days he should be happy, but that if I was determined to
go on to-morrow, the necessary horses and ten men for a guard
were all ready. As no wish was expressed of seeing me, I was of
course silent upon that subject.

_September 22._--Promises were made that everything should be
ready at sunrise, but it was half-past nine before we started,
and no guard present but the Tartar. He presently began to show
his nature by flogging the baggage-horse with his long whip, as
one who was not disposed to allow loitering; but one of the poor
beasts presently fell with his load at full length over a piece
of timber lying in the road. While this was setting to rights,
the people gathered about me, and seemed more engaged with my
Russian boots than with any other part of my dress. We moved
south-west, and after five hours and a half reached Joula. The
Tartar rode forward and got the coffee-room at the post-house
ready. The coffee-room has one side railed and covered with
cushions, and on the opposite side cushions on the ground; the
rest of the room was left with bare stones and timbers. As the
wind blew very cold yesterday, and I had caught cold, the Tartar
ordered a great fire to be made. In this room I should have been
very much to my satisfaction, had not the Tartar taken part of
the same bench, and many other people made use of it as a public
room. They were continually consulting my watch to know how near
the hour of eating approached. It was evident that the Tartar
was the great man here; he took the best place for himself; a
dinner of four or five dishes was laid before him. When I asked
for eggs they brought me rotten ones; for butter they brought me
ghee. The idle people of the village came all night and smoked
till morning. It was very cold, there being a hoar frost.

_September 23._--Our way to-day lay through a forest of firs,
and the variety of prospect it afforded, of hill and dale, wood
and lawn, was beautiful and romantic. No mark of human
workmanship was anywhere visible for miles, except where some
trees had fallen by the stroke of the woodman. We saw at last a
few huts in the thickest clumps, which was all we saw of the
Koords, for fear of whom I was attended by ten armed horsemen.
We frightened a company of villagers again to-day. They were
bringing wood and grass from the forest, and on seeing us drew
up. One of our party advanced and fired; such a rash piece of
sport I thought must have been followed by serious mischief, but
all passed off very well. With the forest I was delighted; the
clear streams in the valleys, the lofty trees crowning the
summit of the hills, the smooth paths winding away and losing
themselves in the dark woods, and, above all, the solitude that
reigned throughout, composed a scene which tended to harmonise
and solemnise the mind. What displays of taste and magnificence
are found occasionally on this ruined earth! Nothing was
wanting to-day but the absence of the Turks, to avoid the sight
and sound of whom I rode on. After a ride of nine hours and a
half, we reached Mijingui, in the territory of Erzroom, and
having resolved not to be annoyed in the same way as last night,
I left the Tartar in the undisturbed possession of the
post-house, and took up my quarters at an Armenian's, where, in
the stable-room, I expected to be left alone; but a Georgian
young man, on his way from Etchmiatzin, going on pilgrimage to
Moosk, where John the Baptist is supposed to be buried, presumed
on his assiduous attentions to me, and contrived to get a place
for himself in the same room.

_September 24._--A long and sultry march over many a hill and
vale. In the way, two hours from the last stage, is a hot
spring; the water fills a pool, having four porches. The porches
instantly reminded me of Bethesda's pool: they were semicircular
arches about six feet deep, intended seemingly for shelter from
the sun. In them all the party undressed and bathed. The Tartar,
to enjoy himself more perfectly, had his _kalean_ to smoke while
up to his chin in water. We saw nothing else on the road to-day
but a large and opulent family of Armenians--men, women, and
children--in carts and carriages returning from a pilgrimage to
Moosk. After eleven hours and a half, including the hour spent
at the warm spring, we were overtaken by the dusk; so the Tartar
brought us to Oghoomra, where I was placed in an Armenian's
stable-room.

_September 25._--Went round to Husar-Quile, where we changed
horses. I was surprised to find so strong a fort and so large a
town. From thence we were five hours and a half reaching the
entrance of Erzroom. All was busy and moving in the streets and
shops--crowds passing along. Those who caught a sight of us were
at a loss to define me. My Persian attendants and the lower part
of the dress made me appear Persian; but the rest of my dress
was new, for those only who had travelled knew it to be
European. They were rather disposed, I thought, to be uncivil,
but the two persons who preceded us kept all in order. I felt
myself in a Turkish town; the red cap, and stateliness, and rich
dress, and variety of turbans was realised as I had seen it in
pictures. There are here four thousand Armenian families and but
one church; there are scarcely any Catholics, and they have no
church.

_September 29._--Left Erzroom with a Tartar and his son at two
in the afternoon. We moved to a village, where I was attacked
with fever and ague; the Tartar's son was also taken ill and
obliged to return.

_September 30._--Travelled first to Ashgula, where we changed
horses, and from thence to Purnugaban, where we halted for the
night. I took nothing all day but tea, and was rather better,
but head-ache and loss of appetite depressed my spirits; yet my
soul rests in Him who is 'an anchor to the soul, sure and
steadfast,' which, though not seen, keeps me fast.

_October 1._--Marched over a mountainous tract; we were out from
seven in the morning till eight at night. After sitting a little
by the fire, I was near fainting from sickness. My depression of
spirits led me to the throne of grace as a sinful abject worm.
When I thought of myself and my transgressions, I could find no
text so cheering as 'My ways are not as your ways.' From the men
who accompanied Sir Gore Ouseley to Constantinople I learned
that the plague was raging at that place, and thousands dying
every day. One of the Persians had died of it. They added that
the inhabitants of Tokat were flying from their town from the
same cause. Thus I am passing inevitably into imminent danger. O
Lord, Thy will be done! Living or dying, remember me!

_October 2._--Some hours before day I sent to tell the Tartar I
was ready, but Hassan Aga was for once riveted to his bed.
However, at eight, having got strong horses, he set off at a
great rate; and over the level ground he made us gallop as fast
as the horses would go to Chifflik, where we arrived at sunset.
I was lodged, at my request, in the stables of the post-house,
not liking the scrutinising impudence of the fellows who
frequent the coffee-room. As soon as it began to grow a little
cold the ague came on, and then the fever; after which I had a
sleep, which let me know too plainly the disorder of my frame.
In the night Hassan sent to summon me away, but I was quite
unable to move. Finding me still in bed at the dawn, he began to
storm furiously at my detaining him so long, but I quietly let
him spend his ire, ate my breakfast composedly, and set out at
eight. He seemed determined to make up for the delay, for we
flew over hill and dale to Sherean, where he changed horses.
From thence we travelled all the rest of the day and all night;
it rained most of the time. Soon after sunset the ague came on
again, which, in my wet state, was very trying; I hardly knew
how to keep my life in me. About that time there was a village
at hand, but Hassan had no mercy. At one in the morning we found
two men under a wain, with a good fire; they could not keep the
rain out, but their fire was acceptable. I dried my lower
extremities, allayed the fever by drinking a good deal of water,
and went on. We had little rain, but the night was pitchy dark
so that I could not see the road under my horse's feet. However,
God being mercifully pleased to alleviate my bodily suffering, I
went on contentedly to the _munzil_, where we arrived at break
of day. After sleeping three or four hours, I was visited by an
Armenian merchant for whom I had a letter. Hassan was in great
fear of being arrested here; the Governor of the city had vowed
to make an example of him for riding to death a horse belonging
to a man of this place. He begged that I would shelter him in
case of danger; his being claimed by an Englishman, he said,
would be a sufficient security. I found, however, that I had no
occasion to interfere. He hurried me away from this place
without delay, and galloped furiously towards a village, which,
he said, was four hours distant, which was all I could undertake
in my present weak state; but village after village did he pass
till, night coming on, and no signs of another, I suspected that
he was carrying me on to the _munzil_; so I got off my horse and
sat upon the ground, and told him 'I neither could nor would go
any farther.' He stormed, but I was immovable, till, a light
appearing at a distance, I mounted my horse and made towards it,
leaving him to follow or not, as he pleased. He brought in the
party, but would not exert himself to get a place for me. They
brought me to an open verandah, but Sergius told them I wanted a
place in which to be alone. This seemed very offensive to them.
'And why must he be alone?' they asked, ascribing this desire of
mine to pride, I suppose. Tempted at last by money, they brought
me to a stable-room, and Hassan and a number of others planted
themselves there with me. My fever here increased to a violent
degree; the heat in my eyes and forehead was so great that the
fire almost made me frantic. I entreated that it might be put
out, or that I might be carried out of doors. Neither was
attended to; my servant, who, from my sitting in that strange
way on the ground, believed me delirious, was deaf to all I
said. At last I pushed my head among the luggage, and lodged it
on the damp ground, and slept.

From Sherean, or Sheheran, out of which, after a night of burning fever in the stable of the Chifflik post-station, Hassan furiously compelled the dying man to ride, is a mountain track of a hundred and seventy miles to Tokat. 'How wearisome and painful must have been his journey over the mountains and valleys!' wrote the American missionaries, Eli Smith and H.O. Dwight, eighteen years after, when, in the vigour of health and at a better season, they made the same journey, called by his example and memory, to found the Mission to Eastern Anatolia. Think of him, wasting away from consumption, racked with ague, burning with fever, as, pressed by the merciless Turk, he 'flew over hill and dale' all the third day of October, from eight in the morning, then changed horses at Sheheran, then 'travelled all the rest of the day and all night' of the 3rd-4th, while the rain fell amid darkness that could be felt; then, after three or four hours' sleep, on break of day again hurried on, lest his guide should be arrested for a former offence of 'riding to death a horse belonging to a man of this place,' all the fourth day, till almost expiring he sat on the ground and found refuge in a stable, refusing to go farther. 'At last I pushed my head among the luggage, and lodged it on the damp ground, and slept.' Since Chrysostom's ride in the same region, the Church of Christ has seen no torture of a saint like that.

_October 5._--Preserving mercy made me see the light of another
morning. The sleep had refreshed me, but I was feeble and
shaken; yet the merciless Hassan hurried me off. The _munzil_,
however, not being distant, I reached it without much
difficulty. I expected to have found it another strong fort at
the end of the pass, but it is a poor little village within the
jaws of the mountain. I was pretty well lodged, and felt
tolerably well till a little after sunset, when the ague came on
with a violence I had never before experienced; I felt as if in
a palsy, my teeth chattering and my whole frame violently
shaken. Aga Hosein and another Persian, on their way here from
Constantinople, going to Abbas Mirza whom I had just before been
visiting, came hastily to render me assistance if they could.
These Persians appear quite brotherly after the Turks. While
they pitied me, Hassan sat in perfect indifference, ruminating
on the further delay this was likely to occasion. The cold fit,
after continuing two or three hours, was followed by a fever,
which lasted the whole night and prevented sleep.

_October 6._--No horses being to be had, I had an unexpected
repose. I sat in the orchard and thought with sweet comfort and
peace of my God, in solitude my Company, my Friend, and
Comforter. Oh! when shall time give place to eternity! When
shall appear that new heaven and new earth wherein dwelleth
righteousness! There, there shall in no wise enter in anything
that defileth: none of that wickedness which has made men worse
than wild beasts, none of those corruptions which add still more
to the miseries of mortality, shall be seen or heard of any
more.

Sitting in the orchard, thinking with sweet comfort and peace of his God, and longing for that new heaven and new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness--such is the last sight we have of Henry Martyn, on October 6, 1812. Two brotherly Persians, on their way from Constantinople, had sought to minister to him the day before. The Turkish Hassan, himself afraid of justice, 'sat in perfect indifference, ruminating on the further delay' caused by his illness. What happened when the dying apostle could write no more--in the ten days till God took him on October 16--who shall now tell? Did the Turk hurry him, as he was expiring, into Tokat, from 'that poor little village within the jaws of the mountain,' in which he was 'pretty well lodged,' or did his indomitable spirit give the poor body strength to ride into the town; and did the plague, then raging, complete what hereditary disease and fever had done? He had at least his Armenian servants, the 'trusty' Melcom and Sergius, with him to minister to his wants. He had written to Lydia of his journey to her by Constantinople, Syria, and Malta, saying: 'Do I dream, that I venture to think and write of such an event as that!... Soon we shall have occasion for pen and ink no more, but I trust I shall shortly see thee face to face.' He dreamed indeed; for He who is the only Love which is no dream, but the one transforming, abiding, absorbing reality, called him, while yet a youth of thirty-one, home to Himself.

FOOTNOTES:

[85] _The Historical Geography of Asia Minor_, vol. iv. of the Royal Geographical Society's _Supplementary Papers_, John Murray, 1890.

[86] In his valuable book _Transcaucasia and Ararat_ (1877), Mr. James Bryce, M.P., gives the meaning as 'The Only-Begotten descended.'

[87] A few years after, when Sir R. Ker Porter was on the same route, he wrote: 'This was the spot where our apostolic countryman, Henry Martyn, faint with fever and fatigue, alighted to bathe on his way to Tokat.' There, too, Sir Robert was of opinion, Xenophon and the Ten Thousand Greeks crossed the Araxes 2,300 years ago.