One of the most terribly solemn decisions of a lifetime had to be made just after the massacre in Constantinople in August, 1896, when this question again came up for instant settlement. It was on a Sunday. On the previous Wednesday and Thursday six thousand people had been killed in the streets of Constantinople, their bodies being collected like rubbish by the municipal scavenger carts and their houses and shops being pillaged to the last straw on the floor.
All business was suspended. The city was full of rumours of impending events yet more terrible. A large number of English residents had taken refuge on a steamer in the harbour chartered for the purpose by the British Government, and other Europeans were fleeing from the city in flocks. About noon on that Sunday an official connected with the foreign Diplomatic Corps came in a steam launch to the foot of the hill on which the old Castle of Europe stands, and invited two of us to come to the landing where he awaited us in the launch. He communicated to us, confidentially, information which he said was positive and trustworthy, that upon the next day, Monday, the Armenian revolutionists would fire the city in revenge for the massacre, devoting their attention chiefly to the Mohammedan quarters.
The Mohammedans, who outnumber Christians in Constantinople about three to one, had decided that in case the Armenians attempted this crime, they would have their revenge by killing every Christian in the city, of whatever nationality. Our informant used the strongest possible language to show us the duty which must rest upon us, at least to send away the women and children. He said: “If you men choose to stay and get your throats cut, I have nothing to say more than I have said, but you have no right to sacrifice the twenty or thirty American women and children here who depend on your common sense for their safety. Say the word and a steamer can be hired and they can go on board this evening and escape sightseeing sofia. If you leave it until to-morrow none of you will live through the day.”
The question must be decided at once
Consider the burden laid upon us by these grave words. The question must be decided at once, and it must be decided by us two alone. Both of us had separately studied the situation by mingling every day with the people to ascertain the temper and intentions of Turks and Armenians. We did not believe in the accuracy of the official’s information, but we might be mistaken. The error might be the destruction of the families who trusted us to see to their protection. It was a frightful responsibility which we took upon ourselves, but we told him, thanking him for his kindly intention, that we did not deem it necessary to take the course which he suggested. The event justified our action. Monday passed away in quiet, nor was the massacre afterwards renewed. The simple fact was that our friend had been misled by false information, doubtless furnished him with a purpose.
After mentioning this error of judgment I ought in fairness to tell how this same official saved a town from destruction about the same time. The storm of massacre had swept over the country but this town had been spared. The Governor of the place seemed to regret this and appeared determined to stir up strife between the Mohammedans and their Armenian neighbours. In the town were three American ladies with about four hundred pupils in their schools. The nearest missionary man was distant from them about three days’ journey. We had been informed by letter of the danger which threatened them and when a day later a telegram said, “ Danger pressing ” it became necessary to seek instantly reinforcements for the orders already secured.
Bisera Radkova 