Faithful Unto Death

The Massacre

him in his little gowns, and coax up a bubble as well as any experienced mother. Will would nearly always smile for her, even during his rare bouts of colic, and his baby face twice daily glowed with joy when he heard her steps come in from school. As Will learned to pull himself up upon the furniture and to toddle about the rooms, Lottie followed him about, smacking his hand when he reached for forbidden items, rocking him in her arms when he wailed, kissing his scrapes and bruises. Now she looked forward to dressing baby Josie like a little dolly and teaching her to play cat’s cradle when she grew a bit older. The Massacre “who can open the doors of his face? Round about his teeth is terror . . .” Charlotte rocked as she read aloud, tears streaming down her face. Anna ushered their longtime friend Mary E. C. Bailey into the room. “Charlotte, my dear, I came as soon as I heard. How dreadful!” “Mariam, Rakel, Yeva, Lishbet, all of them, all dead. Sweet Vartuhi, who always started the hymns for the choir, carried off by the Kurds; nobody knows her fate. Avedis, Bedros, and Aram, lined up against a wall in front of their families and shot. ‘His heart is as hard as a stone, hard as the nether millstone . . .’” “What is our government doing about the massacre? There’s no mention of any action in today’s piece; what does your letter say?” “I can tell you right now that President Harrison has no intention of taking any meaningful action. Oh, he’ll make a statement, but the Turks won’t be the least bit intimidated. I should be there with them. Here I lie, in idleness. Oh, Zion . . .” Little by little the details became known to the American populace. The Turkish government had become increasingly incensed by obstinacy of the Armenian people, who insisted on clinging to their Christianity . Some remained Orthodox, or Gregorian, as the Protestant missionaries termed it, and some followed the imported Western variety. It was all one to the Islamic Turks. With the wholehearted encouragement of their sultan and his army, petty Turkish of‹cials harassed and threatened the occupants of villages and missionary compounds. Here a church was burned, the worshippers shot, stabbed, or beaten as they tried to escape from the ›ames. There a village was attacked in the 85 night, men shot in their beds and their wives dragged away shrieking, never to return, their children snatched away with them, or left to wander until taken in by a nearby farmer, or handed casually to the nearest mission school, or left to die of hunger and exposure. British and American diplomats remonstrated with Sultan Hamid, who had no liking for either of these unbelieving nations. In response, he would declare a temporary lull in the hostilities and allow the renegade Kurds to do his work for him. “What can we do against these mountain bandits?” he would protest. “We are helpless even to protect our own citizens.” After a suitable time, his specious grip on the troops would loosen, and the ferocity of attacks again increased. Five hundred Armenians would die this month, twenty-‹ve the next, and nobody knew how many the next; Armenians who disappeared seldom returned, and those few who did reported systematic massacres that, we now know, served as dress rehearsal for events in Europe ‹fty years hence. Overwhelmed “anna, aren’t you ready yet?” Henry, spruce and neat in his new broadcloth suit, paced impatiently in the passageway. Lottie, in her new gingham dress with a tiny velvet ribbon at the neck, held his hand. Henry had recently been elected as a trustee of the church, and tonight was his ‹rst public appearance as an elder of the community. Grand Traverse College would dedicate the new Barber Hall, and Henry was to speak at the dedication. “Not yet, Henry.” Anna sounded harassed. “Why don’t you go on ahead and leave me Lottie to help with the children?” “Lottie, I think I could eat some of those peas you had for dinner,” came Charlotte’s querulous voice from her downstairs room. Lottie stood indecisively; a slap sounded from upstairs, followed by a thin wail. Lottie started toward the stair. “You go and see to your aunt,” said Henry in a low voice. “I’ll go up and help get the children dressed.” He went upstairs and stopped in the doorway. Anna, tears...