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Massacres At Marash
Marash, Nov. 26th.
 e
survived the massacre of Nov. 18th, though we had given up all hope for
hours. For four weeks previously Christians had been shot at sight in the
streets, houses plundered, men's heads put on pikes, and two cases in my
knowledge where little girls had been disemboweled. It was a reign of terror,
culminating in the butchery of the 18th. Early that morning the three church
quarters were fired, and the steady report of the guns told us of the work
of annihilation.
 "We
took the girls (of the college) and crossed the seminary yard into the
one occupied by the Lees and McCalloms. It was not a moment too soon, as
the houses overlooking their walls were then being plundered, and we plainly
saw what was in progress. It was about g o'clock. The Arab soldiers had
been turned loose on the city. A number of regiments were drawn up west
of the city ready to lend assistance if there should be any opposition.
A company was on a hill near us, not regulars, but still in uniform, to
see that no one interfered here, and the Arab fiends had possession. I
cannot now describe the scenes we witnessed. The raiding of tlie houses
in the seminary yard, the killing of our two men and a third riddled with
bullets. Finally they were held up and chopped and hacked with the sword
as mercilessly and with as little purpose as a child attacks a mullein
head. After the soldiers had left to carry away a load of our academy stores,
the old women and children came in to carry away what was left. It seemed
the plan that everything must go. I had said, `There will be a larger and
better organized force come here, for they may think we can resist.' There
were 290 people in the two houses, chiefly women and children, and as still
as death; and our girls, our sweet-faced girls, who tortured us with uo
wailing, but looking, in a heart-rendering manner, into our faces for the
comfort and assurance that had never failed before. Everything was given
over. The smoke and dusk were closing in around us. The seminary yard was
nearly finished. A lull of perhaps a moment. We peeped through the curtains
(Miss B. and I), and turning to each other, quietly said, `They've come.'
"A large force of Arabs was in the
street, drawn up in order, each with his gun ready for firing, I thought,
and started to go below to our girls, to be with them to the last. Someone
was pounding on the street door, and we heard friendly calls. Mr. McCallom
gave a glance at his wife and babies and said, `I must go,' and he went.
The calling continued and we were puzzled. But the gate, on being opened,
let in some of our people and a colonel who had come with a guard-the first
in all that day. We had seen the man on horseback in the afternoon, riding
among the soldiers and playfully hitting them on the shoulders as if pretending
to drive them away.  This
only made us feel sure that the government had doomed us and wanted a pretext
for trying to protect us. Fortunately for me, the two wounded theologues
were brought in, and I had my hands full till midnight, when one of them
died. The other was shot and hacked up terribly, but I dressed his wounds
and he is still alive. The condition in the city is beyond description.
Starvation on every hand; the best of our people gone. The soldiers estimate
as their day's work 4,700 dead, but it is too much. They were occupied
with plunder. One young man was given the alternative of death or becoming
a Moslem. He chose death and they struck his head off. His poor body was
taken to his mother, who, taking his hand and kissing it, said: 'Rather
so, my son, than living to deny our Lord and Saviour.' He is one of thousands
to sacrifice his life rather than deny Christ." |
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