Armenia, Travels and Studies (Volume 2 of 2): The Turkish Provinces — John Shaqi
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
He was a pleasant individual, quite young, extremely ignorant and
without ambition to learn. He was called the monk Peter, or Petros
vardapet. Eight monks were on the foundation of the cloister; of
these only four were in residence on the island. We found them each
in his cell, sharing the group of little buildings which cluster at
the foot of the church. All appeared to be without work or occupation
of any kind. They seemed to have passed their lives upon the cushions
of their couches, looking across the tremulous shade of the almond
trees to the Italian sea and the soaring fabric of Sipan.
It was half-past twelve when we put off; the wind had dropped, and
scarcely enabled us to forge ahead. For several hours we lay becalmed
on the bosom of the lake, here at its widest, in full face of the
murky chain on the horizon, which was reflected in hues of burnished
steel. Banks of mist shrouded the landscape, especially in the west,
where the mass of Nimrud seemed encircled by the sea. A pest of little
midges covered our clothes and blackened our papers; then a shower
fell, and yet another, and they disappeared. About four o'clock a
nice breeze freshened, coming from the shore of low hills upon our
left. It brought with it rain; but a little later the sun triumphed,
and burst the canopy of clouds in the south and west. A double rainbow
of great brilliancy rose from that near shore, revealing the site
of a little village. Our head was pointed to the rock of Van, which,
at this distance, shows like an island, even without the assistance
of mirage. The long barrier of the Kurdish range declines in that
direction, and gives way to a less steep and less gloomy ridge;
but that outline again rises on the further side of the city, to
culminate in a lofty parapet of saw-shaped edge. Varag--such is the
name of this mass--commands the bay in which Van lies from behind a
spacious interval of garden and field. In the landscape it strikes the
last note of the tumultuous theme which is suggested by the mountains
in the south--a final trumpet blast by which the procession marches
onwards to the Persian plains.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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