Tiflis, the capital of the Caucasus, is about midway between Batoum on the Black Sea and Baku on the Caspian, and is, commercially speaking, a favourite meeting-place of Western and Asiatic races. There is probably no other city in creation where European and Oriental life are so closely intermingled, or where both races, being united by mutual interests, live in such perfect peace and harmony. Nor is there any town in the world, that I know of, where the streets present such an array of fantastic costumes or where you can hear forty different languages and dialects spoken during the course of a short stroll. The town is, therefore, attractive by reason of its originality, but is situated in a sterile, sun-baked valley, formed by steep hills, which in summer intercept every breeze and render the place unbearably hot and oppressive, although in winter they form a shelter which, combined with a dry, bracing climate, render this a favourite resort of invalids. Tiflis was built in this hollow, instead of on the lofty plateau above it, on account of hot mineral springs, which from time immemorial have been famed for their curative powers.
The river Kur, which falls into the Caspian, bisects the city, its precipitous banks displaying tier upon tier of old and picturesque Eastern buildings with gay facades, brightly-coloured roofs and carved wooden balconies, the whole forming a medley of incongruous architecture, where no two dwellings are alike, and where the rich man's palace is often elbowed by the squalid mud hovel. This is known as the Asiatic quarter.
The modern and European portion of Tiflis is in imposing contrast to the dirt and squalor of the latter, although costly goods and valuable art treasures from all parts of the East are stored in its bazaars, where days may be spent, profitably or otherwise, by the bargain-hunter. When last here I was entertained at the Governor-General's palace, from which radiate the principal streets, well paved and spacious, tree-lined avenues, one of which, the "Galavinsky Prospekt," would be considered a handsome thoroughfare in any European capital, while several iron bridges span the river, connecting Europe with Asia in the native quarter. Near the " Galavinsky " are the cathedral, law courts, opera and several excellent hotels, of which the Hotel de Londres (kept by a Frenchman) is perhaps the most comfortable and by no means dear. The tram-cars here are better than those in Petrograd, and the public vehicles were almost as good as those in Bukarest, which used to be the best in Europe. The only drawback to Tiflis, so far as I could see, was a lack of pure water, but this deficiency has now, I believe, been remedied.
The Europeans here comprise Russians, Poles, Italians, French, Rumanians, Levantines, Serbians and (before the war) many Germans, of every class, who not only settled in the town, but swarmed into the villages on its outskirts, which have now been cleared of their unwelcome and unsavoury presence. And I also met many of my countrymen here who had been attracted by recent and important discoveries of oil in the Maikop district.
Society was chiefly commercial, although the Caucasian capital is, or was, like Malta, "a little military hothouse," and its streets were crowded with uniforms, many of which, worn by officers of crack cavalry or Cossack regiments, were unusually brilliant and becoming.
When I was last there, Tiflis had, as regards morals, a rather shady reputation, and this was, perhaps, partly due to the military element, and partly to the fact that the lax and cosmopolitan habits adopted by male members of the mercantile community were freely shared by their wives and daughters. Thus, I was invited by a Prince, (nearly every one here is a Prince !), to attend a ball which, although a society function, was towards its close more suggestive of a rowdy party in Montmartre than a decorous family entertainment. Yet my host, a grey-bearded, sad-looking Greek merchant, seemed quite unmoved by the risqui antics of his youthful wife and female guests, and even gravely joined in them himself! The evening certainly opened with due propriety, and such refined and graceful measures as the valse, mazurka and " Lesginka " (a Lesghian dance),but it concluded, towards the small hours, with a *' cancan," which recalled the wildest nights at the old "Moulin-Rouge!"
I was also taken to a fashionable club called the "Krujok" (a kind of Murray's), where ladies were admitted at any time, even Georgian women in their pretty national dress, which contrasted quaintly with modern French and Italian " toilettes." And the native costume was generally more attractive than its wearer, for the beauty of Georgian and Circassian women has been greatly exaggerated. Most of them grow stout and look elderly before they are thirty, and even the youngest have a vacant, animal type of face, which to European eyes is almost revolting.
Ball-room "etiquette" here was rather puzzling at first, for you might not dance more than once during the evening with the same lady, whom, on concluding a short turn, you had to leave standing alone to be claimed by some one else, while you sought another partner. "Roulette " was played between the dances, sometimes for very high stakes, especially by wealthy Armenians. I must confess I have never been favourably impressed with this race, who appeared to me to have all the vices of Jews and none of their virtues, and who seemed to be cordially disliked by both Europeans and natives.
On other nights I went to the theatre, a pretty little house decorated in the Moorish style, where I attended, on the same occasion, a performance of Hamlet in Russian, and Pagliacci well rendered by Italians. The evenings were therefore never dull, the more so that Tiflis people appeared to commence the day after dark. Even business men seldom rose until eleven a.m., took a light meal and strolled down to the office until about two o'clock, when they returned home to dine. A siesta followed until four p.m., when work for another couple of hours left them free for the night's amusement, which, commencing with supper about nine p.m., did not generally terminate until three or four in the morning. This mode of life, however, only applies to winter and spring, for all who can afford it pass the summer months in the country, either in a "datcha" or at the seaside, for Tiflis is at this season a dusty and sweltering desert.
However immoral this city may be, there is no outward display of vice, which, however, undoubtedly exists on a scale only equaled in some Continental capitals. The mineral baths here, for instance, were largely patronized by wealthy clients, who paid prices that would certainly not have been charged for the simple treatment of rheumatic and other complaints. For a bathing establishment, run on scientific lines, does not generally provide its patrons with cabinets particuliers and champagne suppers, yet this was the case here, just as it used to be before the late Emperor's bogus moral crusade in Buda-Pest. Moreover, scandals have occasionally occurred in connection with the Tiflis establishment which have brought it under the notice of the authorities, especially when, some years ago, a young cavalry officer drew his revolver and shot a "droshky" driver for insulting two young and well-connected ladies whom the former was driving, at midnight, to the baths, from a ball at the Governor's palace. The tragedy was, of course, hushed up, although not entirely, by reason of certain divorce proceedings which followed its occurrence.
A stranger may walk about the streets of Tiflis all night, unarmed and in perfect safety, so long as he keeps to the European quarter, which is beautifully lit by electricity, although certain streets and alleys on the Asiatic side are best avoided after sunset. Some parts of the country, notably those near the Turkish frontier, are still dangerous on account of highway robberies, but elsewhere you can travel quite as safely as in the remoter parts of Greece or Sicily. I was never once molested, although I have ridden alone through some of the wildest and loneliest parts of Georgia. Nor have I ever heard of any serious case of brigandage having occurred within the past decade throughout the Caucasus.
The latter has, of late years, increased in popularity, amongst Englishmen intent on sport or mountaineering, and I met in Tiflis a well-known Indian " Shikari " who had been there for two successive seasons for the purpose of shooting bear and ibex, numbers of which he had killed. March, he told me, is the best time for chamois and wild boar, and pheasants, quail and woodcock abound early in April and within easy reach of the capital, while leopards and tigers are obtainable, but only near the Persian frontier. My informant added, however, that sport here is deteriorating, as few landowners now preserve, and natives possessed of a gun licence can shoot all the year round if they choose. Red-deer, for instance, which were formerly numerous only thirty miles from Tiflis, are now almost extinct. But there are plenty of wild-fowl on the shores of the Caspian, and, in the steppe country, good fun can be had coursing hares or stalking antelope, which latter, my friend told me, he had once hunted in the depth of winter, with some Tartars, by the following quaint method. Each man was mounted, with a rifle slung over his back, and holding a greyhound balanced on his horse's withers. Having sighted and broken up a herd, each member of the party selected a single antelope, which he persistently followed, never pressing or losing sight of his quarry, perhaps for a whole day, until the latter, harassed and worn out by labouring with balled hoofs through deep snow-drifts, fell to the ground exhausted, and unable to move further. The Tartar then released his dog, which soon seized and despatched its prey.
The streams throughout this country abound in salmon, trout, and many other kinds of fish, which are seldom interfered with, for neither Russians nor natives ever throw a fly, and the latter, save those who live by the sea-shore, rarely use a net. Circassia is the best district for trout during the months of April, May and June, but it is well to add that a fisherman must come here provided with everything needful in the way of tackle, which, even in Tiflis, is not procurable.
You may leave the bright and busy boulevards of modern Tiflis, with their stately public and private buildings, luxurious hotels, attractive shops, and other signs of European civilization, and walk within a few minutes to the Asiatic Quarter—to realize that you are in another world, as essentially Eastern, in every respect, as the most secluded portions of Stamboul or Teheran. The change is as complete as when one picture on a lantern-screen has been suddenly replaced by another.
There are here not one, but many, Bazaars, running in all directions under one rambling roof like burrows in a rabbit-warren. A guide is therefore needed to conduct you through this intricate maze, which is entered from a broad but squalid thoroughfare, running at right-angles to the River Kur. From here I walked, for nearly an hour, through a succession of dark and crowded streets and alleys before emerging again into the pure air and sunshine, which were a pleasant contrast to the stifling atmosphere and subtle odours of that human bee-hive. Yet every inch of the way was interesting, if only by reason of the strange and varied races the place contained. For here were baggy-breeched Greeks, red-fezzed, frock-coated Turks, sombrely clad Persians, and even turbaned merchants from Bokhara mingling with Armenians, Georgians, Tartars and fierce-looking " Tcherkess," bristling with daggers and silver cartridge-belts. Here an Arab water-seller, in snowy white, noisily jungled his cymbals, while next him a squatting, green-robed pilgrim from Mecca chanted nasal verses from the "Koran" and held out a skinny hand for alms, also aggressively demanded by relays of blind, and crippled beggars. There were few women about, but occasionally a Turkish lady, in voluminous black gown and white "yashmak," would hurry modestly by; while her brightly clad Greek and Georgian sisters, bedizened with jewellery and rouged to the eyes, lingered on their errands, and seemed to invite the attention of casual admirers. But they, like every one else, were often scattered in all directions when a string of camels, staggering under bales of merchandise, parted, with stolid unconcern, this seething mass of humanity.
A considerable portion of the Tiflis bazaar was occupied by vendors of Manchester goods, cheap furniture, ironware, and the miscellaneous collection of utter rubbish formerly "made in Germany," and commonplace stores were scattered about promiscuously, special streets only being assigned to each native trade, product or manufacture. Even the cook shops and bakers had their own street, where one could watch the frizzling of savory "kabobs," and the baking of "tchurkebi," a pale sodden-looking pancake much relished by Armenians. Adjoining this was a passage entirely occupied by hatters, and stored with all kinds of head-wear from the local "papak," of black or grey lambskin, to the towering Persian head-dress, shaped like the mouthpiece of a clarionet. And between these were wine-shops, dispensing red and white "Kaketi" [Kakheti] a Caucasian vintage which is purchased in a buffalo or sheep skin according to the quantity needed. But the Caucasus wines are very inferior to those of the Crimea, for, in addition to being rough and heady, they often retain a faint but unpleasant flavour of the leather in which they have been kept. "Kaketi" is also sold in bottles for export, but will probably never be as popular in Russia as the vintages of Aloushta and the southern coast.
I found traders of every nationality here fairly honest and less rapacious than many I have known in the East, and it is therefore sometimes possible to bargain successfully, always assuming that the purchaser is more or less of an expert in the article he needs—whether it be carpets and embroideries, or antique jewellery and silver. And hours may be spent (to say nothing of a considerable amount of money) amongst the armourers' stalls. Here I saw every sort of weapon, not only for sale, but in course of construction, and workmen busily polishing sword and dagger-hilts in silver, ivory or bone, fitting scabbards to scimitars, and stocks to clumsy barrels of the old blunderbuss type, for there was not a modern gun or rifle in the place. But there were gold-hilted poniards from Daghestan, Lesghian pistols encrusted with uncut gems, and murderous-looking knives from Mingrelia, to say nothing of ancient coats of mail and shields, one of which latter, beautifully enamelled in delicate colours, had come all the way from Chinese Tartary. And there were yet greater treasures kept under lock and key and only extracted from layers of cotton wool for the benefit of wealthy customers; one, an exquisite dagger, with a hilt of fossilized ivory, and verses of the "Koran," in pure gold sunk into its blade of blue-steel, which bore the rippled watermark of Damascus. It was said to be 400 years old, and was valued at £85.
A loftier, lighter gallery than any other was that of the jewellers and silversmiths in their quaint little stalls with glass fronts—dingy little dens whose more valuable contents are never exposed (for obvious reasons) to the public gaze, but kept in a small inner room. I only entered one of the latter, where the brilliant display of diamonds and rubies, emeralds and pearls would have staggered Monsieur Cartier of the Rue de la Paix, and where I bought an unset turquoise for which I have since been offered twice the price I paid for it. Outside every shop was a large wooden tray littered with a miscellaneous collection, varying from modern European rubbish suggestive of the pawnshop, to really old Russian and Oriental chains, brooches, cigarette cases, rings, and other articles of use or adornment in gold and silver. And here a "connoisseur," able to sift the grain from the chaff, might make many a lucrative bargain, for the dealers, although cunning enough with regard to the sale of precious stones, often underestimate the value of antique and artistic workmanship.
The fur-shops were disappointing, the more so that I had been informed that sable, sea-otter, blue-fox, and other valuable skins were to be cheaply purchased, whereas I found only bear, lynx, wolf, and astrakhan of an inferior quality, yet their prices were higher than those of Petrograd or Moscow. Only the lower orders in Russia wear astrakhan, and even this was unusually expensive. I purchased, however, a garment peculiar to the country, which is called a "bourka," a long, sleeveless mantle of coarse black or grey felt, which is fastened round the neck to fall to the feet, and which I have since found invaluable when riding in cold, wet weather. For the "bourka" is waterproof as well as very warm, and protects not only the rider but his horse's quarters. It has therefore since been my inseparable companion when travelling in the wilds.
You can get almost any kind of carpet here, from those of Bokhara, as fine as silk, with their rich crimson, brown, and ivory tints, to rugs from Broussa and Beyrout of less delicate texture and cruder colouring. The most valuable Persian carpets seldom leave Teheran, except for London or Paris, where, being the best and costliest in the world, they fetch enormous prices. I once saw a small green prayer-rug in the Persian capital which was over five centuries old, and for which an American traveller had paid £1000.
A business engagement took me to Baku, for this is a town no one in their senses would ever visit unless compelled....
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