A PITIFUL LETTER FROM TURKEY.
[Translated from the Armenian for the Christian Cynosure.] SHOPIK, Turkey, Dec. 31, 1895. BELOVED FRIENDS: We were attacked by a Kurdish chief with 400 armed followers, altho we paid them 100 Turkish pounds ($450) as ransom. They forced us to give up our other valuables and our weapons. They also took our grain and cattle. They then ransacked our houses and at nightfall went away.12The next morning the Turks from the surrounding villages attacked us and threatened to kill us if we did not leave our houses. So we went outside, and they entered and plundered. For eight days they burned the houses as they emptied them. Only ten or twelve of the poorer houses were not burned, but the doors and windows were carried off. After this they rushed upon the women and children, and took off their shoes and clothing. On the eighth day, as they had finished their work, they came to us, who were on the banks of the stream. They killed Brother Baghdo's son and Pastor Nelcon, because they would not change their religion. It became night; darkness was upon us; but they came with lanterns and selected forty-five of the young men, saying that the government wished them. Knowing what would befall them, the men asked for an hour's grace. They prayed and sang; they asked forgiveness of each other; they kissed the hands of their parents, and parted with tears, with the expectation of never again seeing each other. Taking them to a desolate place half an hour distant, they were taken apart two by two and threatened with death if they would not change their religion. They all with one voice agreed in saying boldly: "We will not deny our religion. We are ready to die for our Saviour's love." Only five succeeded in making their escape, but the remaining forty became martyrs for the love of Jesus. My son Samuel was among the forty-five, but he escaped with four others and hid in a cave for ten or twelve days. My youngest son, twenty-two years old, was killed. How heartrending was the sight! A week before we were in our homes, comfortable, having made every preparation for the winter, having our friends about us; but, like Job, we were deprived of everything, dwelling-house, furniture, beds, food, clothing. With heads uncovered, feet bare, little clothing upon us, we passed from rock to rock, from mountain to mountain, with great wailing and lamentation, to find our children. "Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not." After wandering for several days, we went to the city of Arabkir for help, but in vain. The government twice gave us grain for bread, but less than a pound for each person, and this to last ten or twelve days. The wheat was burned and weavel-eaten, so that it was too bitter to eat. Our whole village is now crowded into the ten houses which were not destroyed. There are no doors, windows, bread, money, beds, or even earthen dishes in which we could cook if we had anything. Ten of us have died from cold, exposure, and hunger.