Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Richard Wilbraham, Travels in the Trans-Caucasian provinces of Russia (1839) - Part 1


The future general and knight commander of the Order of the Bath, Richard Wilbraham was just a young captain when in the fall of 1837 he travelled across Iran and the Russian Empire on his way to Britain. He kept a detailed travel journal that was published as "Travels in the Trans-Caucasian Provinces of Russia" in London in 1839.


September 2nd [1837]. Immediately on quitting Soghanloo, a sudden bend of the road brought us within sight of the enormous military hospital of Tiflis, situated on the left bank of the river, a mile outside the town; and we soon entered the suburbs, passing through extensive vineyards, stretching to the high banks of the river. Hundreds of water-wheels, turned by the current of the Kour [Kura/Mtkvari River], raise the water in buckets to the level of these vineyards, through which it is carried in pipes. At the entrance of the town I was stopped by a barrier, which, on my presenting my passport, was immediately raised, and I descended a steep hill into the lower or native quarter of the town. This portion of Tiflis is completely Asiatic, both in architecture and costume, containing long rows of bazaars, thronged with Georgians and Armenians in their native dresses. On ascending the opposite hill the houses are better constructed and the streets wider; and the Russian quarter, which contains the governor's palace and the public offices, is laid out in spacious squares, and evinces a taste for showy architecture, with which the buildings of their modern capital have probably inspired them. At this moment the effect was more than usually striking, for every house had been fresh painted; and, in anticipation of the Emperor [Nicholas I]'s arrival, large buildings had been hastily run up to complete unfinished squares. Scaffolding was still seen round all the belfries and the house in which a grand ball was to be given to the Emperor was not yet roofed in. 

In spite of much which showed bad taste, I was particularly struck with the first view of Tiflis, and its picturesque situation. The broad and rapid Kour here winds through a narrow pass hemmed closely in by the hills on its right bank, and dividing the city from its suburbs. The houses rise in tiers from the water's edge, interspersed with terraces of gardens and large open squares, while on a spur of the overhanging mountain stand the dark ruins of an ancient castle erected by the Turks during their temporary reign in Georgia. On the left bank stands the modern citadel, based on the perpendicular rock washed by the current; and higher up the stream lies the German colony of New Tiflis. The country all around is dry and barren, and the situation of Tiflis exposes it to excessive heat during the summer and autumn. Every spring that has been found in the town is mineral, and the water of the Kour is alone used by the inhabitants.

I rode through the whole length of the town before I reached the palace of the governor. In the Russian quarter nine-tenths of those I met wore uniform, buttoned closely up to the chin, no very enviable dress in such a climate. Even the unfortunate clerk, who is nailed to his desk from morning till night, must comply with this vexatious custom. The numberless crosses and medals appended to almost every button-hole showed with what a lavish hand these decorations are bestowed in the Russian service.

I rode at once to the palace, and on announcing my name was ushered into a handsome suite of apartments, in one of which sat the Baron [General Gregory] Rosen, an old German soldier [and the Commander-in-Chief in the Caucasus], no enemy (unless report and his appearance both belie him) to good cheer. I cannot say much for the reception he gave me, the coolness of which I was at that moment somewhat at a loss to account for. I discovered, however, afterwards that the Emperor having expressed a wish that no foreigners should be in Georgia during his visit, my presence was most unwelcome to the Baron, who, on hearing from Persia that I was on my way to Tiflis, had written to prevent my passing the frontier; but I had already completed my quarantine, and, being once within the Russian territory, with passport duly signed, he could not take it upon himself to order me out of the country.

I mentioned to the Baron that I was desirous of visiting the provinces of Mingrelia and Imeretia, and begged that he would allow some trustworthy Cossack to accompany me; but the proposition was evidently unpalatable to him, and he evaded giving me an answer. I soon made my bow, and, attended by an orderly of the governor's, I went to the best hotel which Tiflis afforded, a miserable tavern kept by a Jew. My apartment, for which I paid an extravagant price, consisted of a large dirty room, with scarcely an article of furniture, for myself, and two small closets for my servants. The stabling was still worse.

I called for a droshky [drozhki], a low four-wheeled vehicle in use throughout Russia, and drove to the house of the Countess Simonich, the wife of the Russian ambassador [Ivan Simonich] at Tehran, to whom I had brought letters. The Countess is a very ladylike woman, with great remains of beauty, though mother of a large family. She is a Georgian by birth [nee Anna Amilakhvari], and speaks, besides her native language, no other but Russian. Her eldest daughter, "La Comtesse Marie," a lovely girl of about fourteen, served as our interpreter. Several other children, of different ages, (all with the beautiful dark eyes of their mother,) were playing in the long corridor. The Countess spent some years in Persia with her husband, but had quitted the country before my arrival.

I next called upon Monsieur [Constantine] Rodofinikin, the [acting] Minister for Foreign Affairs, who had evidently received his instructions from the Baron regarding my wish to visit the shores of the Black Sea. On my broaching the subject, he expressed his regret that it was quite impossible at that time, since the Baron had received accounts of the breaking out of the plague in those countries, and that a "cordon sanitaire" had been established on this side of Koutais [Kutaisi]. This was evidently a mere pretense; but, as I well knew that if I persisted they would find some means of detaining me, I told Monsieur Rodofinikin that I would cross the Caucasus, and remain at the warm baths of Petigorsky until the arrival of the Emperor. In this scheme I was promised every assistance.

September 3rd. There being a grand parade on every Sunday morning, I received an invitation from the governor-general to witness it, especially as this was the anniversary of the Emperor's coronation. I declined, however, for I was desirous of attending service in the church of the German colony of New Tiflis, on the opposite side of the Kour. Although the church was almost opposite my inn, I was obliged to ride a long way through the town to the foot of the castle, where the only bridge stands, and then through the Georgian suburbs to the colony. The bridge is of a single arch, erected upon the ruined foundations of a very ancient one. The river at this point is exceedingly rapid, and full of whirlpools. Beyond the bridge I was delayed for some time by meeting a regiment of infantry on its way to the parade. I was surprised at the cleanliness and soldierlike appearance of the men, whose dark uniform and black accoutrements reminded me of my old corps. After passing the bridge you enter a dirty street overrun with pigs, of which my horses, like good Mahomedans, had an invincible abhorrence, jumping from one side of the street to the other to avoid them. This quarter is peopled principally by Germans, and there is an inn to which I had been recommended, kept by a German also; but, judging from the exterior, it does not seem to possess the national virtue of cleanliness. The remainder of the road to the colony winds among the subterranean habitations of the Georgians, swarming with children, while the women, handsome but slatternly, sit in groups around their doors. The colony presents a striking contrast to this scene. A broad level road passes between two rows of neatly white-washed cottages, with their small gardens round them, and the inhabitants, in their holiday garb, were pouring forth to chapel. The women, with their sandy hair and freckled faces, their prim caps and short waisted gowns, could not indeed contest the palm of beauty with their dark-eyed and voluptuous neighbours; but their neat and homely appearance was quite refreshing to an eye accustomed to the slovenly garb of Eastern women.

I learned that the worthy rector of New Tiflis, Mr. Dittrich, had not yet returned from the baths, which his delicate health had obliged him to visit; and as it was doubtful whether service would be performed this morning, I cantered on to the small colony of Alexander's Dorf, a few miles higher up the river. At the very extremity of the village, in a small chapel of the rudest construction, the service had already commenced. The pastor, a homely but well-educated man, was expounding, with clearness and energy, a portion of the scripture. The singing particularly pleased me: there was a simple harmony in it unfortunately rare in our churches. The whole congregation joined in the psalm apparently with heart and voice.

On my return to Tiflis etiquette required that I should make my bow to the governor-general on this their festival. The royal salute from the castle reminded me of this duty, and I rode on to the palace, where a large concourse of officers had assembled to attend the Baron's levee. On the governor's right hand was seated the primate of the Greek Church, the spiritual head of both the Russians and Georgians. I was not a little surprised to see several decorations suspended to his dress, while the broad ribbon of St. Stanislas was plainly seen beneath the folds of his mantle. On the other side of the governor sat the Baron [Paul von] Hahn, a Courlander, the head of a commission lately sent into Georgia to inquire into all abuses. I sat next to the Baron, and found him a gentleman-like, intelligent man, well versed in European languages and literature. 

The levee was formal enough, and I soon made my exit, and drove to visit the Countess [Simonich]. According to the custom of her countrywomen, she was whiling away the afternoon by a rubber at whist. The indolence and want of all resource of Georgian women is proverbial: I am told that they rarely open a book, and they abandon the whole care of the household to their servants.

On a Sunday afternoon the balconies of Tiflis present an animated scene. The fair Georgians, partially concealed by their long white mantillas, assemble there in groups, to see and to be seen. At that distance they look pretty and fascinating.

September 4th. Early this morning Monsieur Rodofinikin called upon me with a "feuille de route" for the warm baths, and recommended me to the German colony as the most likely place to find a carriage. At first I turned away with disdain from the crazy, antiquated vehicles that were shown to me; but seeing that there was no possibility of finding a carriage to suit my English notion of neatness, I was fain to recommence my search, and decided upon a long lumbering britschka without springs, warranted to stand the roads of the Caucasus. As any of my own servants would have been worse than useless on such an expedition, I resolved to leave them with my horses at the German colony, and to hire a colonist who understood Russian. Dr. Riach had mentioned to me the name of a man likely to suit me, and I soon found him out. Peter Ney is a wonderful linguist for a man in his class of life, and is a versatile genius besides, following alternately the trades of carpenter, shoemaker, brewer, schoolmaster, and gentleman's valet: yet, with all these talents, Peter is always as poor as Job, and was delighted at the idea of accompanying me. 

September 5th. Immediately on getting up this morning I went to the warm baths, from which Tiflis takes its name. There are two large establishments, both situated in the Asiatic quarter of the town. I was shown into a room in which were three reservoirs of different temperature. The one, which is of the natural heat of the water as it issues from the rock, was quite unbearable; I could not even keep my hand in it. The water is clear, but strongly impregnated with sulphur.

I dined with the Count de la Rati-Menton, the French Consul, who is living at the " pension" of an old soldier of Napoleon, who having taken unto himself a German wife, has settled in the colony. Old Paul is a privileged man, and takes his share in the conversation as he waits upon his guests. His made-dishes are dignified with French names, but, alas, they savour more of the barrack than of the Palais Royal. I met at the Count's a French gentleman of the name of Tessert, who has the superintendence of a newly-erected silk-manufactory.

September 6th. I had intended starting this afternoon, but no post-horses were to be had; and, after being put off from hour to hour, I was told that I must wait until the morning. I took the precaution of hiring a vacant apartment in Paul's house, lest I might have some difficulty in finding a quarter during the Emperor's stay; and I placed my servants and horses under the care of the French consul. I found that the change from barley and chopped straw to oats and hay had brought my horses into bad condition, so I made arrangements for procuring their accustomed food. As I passed the house where my friend Dr. Riach had resided for some months, I stopped to have a chat with his landlord and landlady, of whose kindness he had made mention. The worthy couple were quite delighted to hear of their lodger, who, they agreed, was a "ganz lieber mann," and had but one fault, that of not speaking German. 

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