Armenia, Travels and Studies (Volume 2 of 2): The Turkish ProvincesLynch, H. F. B. (Harry Finnis Blosse)
History
Armenia, Travels and Studies (Volume 2 of 2): The Turkish Provinces
Lynch, H. F. B. (Harry Finnis Blosse)
Armenia
It is only on the neighbouring slope of the bold promontory that
Vostan can be said to assume a concrete existence; and, even there,
the group of buildings which feature the hillside are but the remains
of the ancient town. You see the relics of an old castle, the ruins of
a church, and a mosque where the faithful still pray. On the margin
of the lake, below the headland, a little mausoleum of yellow stone
still rises above the grassy soil. I set out on foot to visit the
site, in the company of the doctor of law for the caza of Kavach. My
companion--a man of middle age and intelligent face--bore the name
of Mustapha Remzi Effendi, and was known as the Hakim. After jumping
many ditches, which often compelled us to deviate, we arrived at the
mausoleum standing among the debris of an ancient cemetery, on rising
ground, at an interval of a few hundred yards from the peaceful waters
of the lake. It is indeed a charming monument, of highly-finished
masonry, fresh and clean as on the day when it was completed. In
shape it is dodecagonal, and it has an inside diameter of 15 feet 8
inches. The surface of the roof of stone--in form a cone with twelve
sides--is relieved by a moulding of geometrical pattern; a sculptured
frieze and a long inscription in Arabic character runs round the walls,
just below the roof. A familiar feature are the niches with stalactite
vaulting; a small doorway, surmounted by a moulding in this character,
gives access to the interior from the side of the lake. The Hakim read
to me an Arabic inscription which is placed above this entrance; it was
translated for me in the following sense. "This mausoleum belongs to
the daughter of the ruler here in Vostan, Sheikh Ibrahim." According
to my companion, the name of the lady was Halimeh. I doubt whether
her remains still repose within the enclosure of this jewel which
is her tomb. The door is gone, and the vault yawns as though it were
unoccupied, except by a heap of rubbish and debris. One admires the
taste of the architect, who refrained from decorating the interior
and left intact the restful influence of the spaces of wall.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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