In his journal, Eastwick described how he traveled, in 1860, from Britain to France and then, by sea, to Istanbul and Trabzon (Trebisonde) before arriving at Poti in early August of 1860.
The Emperor Alexander steamed away from Trebisonde at half-past nine on the night of the 4th of August, and reached Batoum [Batumi] at 6 a.m. on the 5th.
Batoum is a village of about thirty houses, a beautiful spot as regards scenery, but a hot-bed of fever and malaria. It is important, as being the only haven, a small one indeed, on the eastern coast of the Euxine [Black Sea]. On that account the Russians were anxious to retain it, but lost it, they say, by a quibble, and a mistake in the spelling of a word [Eastwick refers to the Russian efforts to seize Batumi during the Crimean War]. The little bay, which might hold some five ships, but is capable of improvement and enlargement, trends towards the south-east. The houses are on the right, as you look shorewards; that of the Russian Vice-Consul being in the centre. The whole row to the left of his house was shut up and deserted at the time of my visit, on account of fever. On the opposite shore gleamed forth from among the trees a very desirable-looking mansion of a Mingrelian landholder. The heat was tremendous, and I thought it prudent to decline the vice-consul's invitation to dinner; but I went to tea in his small, but pretty garden, swarming with mosquitoes. The poor Russian was very desponding, and seemed to be working himself into a fever by anticipation.
It being Sunday, there was a great deal of singing and music on board the steamer. The troupe for the Opera-House at Teflis formed the larger portion of the passengers, and they played and sang Italian airs for hours. I must confess, however, I was more pleased with the simple songs of the Russian sailors. There was a very fine tenor among them, and their performance would have been applauded anywhere. As for the Italian actresses, being in no fear of any public, they gave full vent to their natural high spirits, and laughed, quaffed, quarreled, and gesticulated in a surprising manner. The prima donna, a damsel with Herculean limbs, and a volcanic temper, kept all around her in awe. The hapless impresario was held responsible for the flavour of every dish at table, for the désagrémens [disagreements] of the voyage, and even for the heat of the weather. He seemed to be the most good-natured of men, and I could not help sympathizing with him, as he sat with streaming brow in the intense heat, vainly endeavoring to keep peace among the ladies.
I had a long talk with the captain, a fine sailor-like fellow. He discoursed in a most liberal strain on politics, said that Russia had no right to Poland, much less to Turkey. "Every people," said he, "ought to govern themselves, but the Turks ought to be chased out of Europe for their cruel oppression of the Christians, and because they are Asiatics."
We left Batoum at 1 a.m. on the 6th of August, and reached Poti at 5 p.m. Anything less inviting than the aspect of this place can hardly be imagined. The shore is so low that it may be said to be level with the water. It is, in fact, a muddy swamp, fringed with reeds. A sea rising in fury at the first hoarse whisper from the wind; marsh fever along a line of jungle eighty miles in breadth; intense heat; myriads of mosquitoes, fleas, and other insect pests - such are some of the attractions which Poti offers to its guests. The river Rhion [Rioni], which is about fifty yards across, comes straight out to the sea, and is, as it were, snipped off from it by a low spit of land, running at right angles across its mouth. At low tide there is a small island at the river's mouth, which makes an apology for a delta. Ships lie about half a mile from shore, and can have no communication with it if the weather be at all rough, but if it be fine, a pigmy steamer comes out to unload them. Nothing can be more inconvenient, and indeed were it desirable to attempt developing the trade of this region, the best plan would be to construct a road to Batoum, and make that the port for the Rhion. The consent of the Turkish Government would, however, be necessary.
The steamer that came out for us kept us waiting nearly two hours. It was crammed to excess with people going from Poti to the Crimea and Odessa. Among them were the ladies of the vice-governors of Mingrelia and Erivan, with a prince, whose name I could not catch, A.D.C. [aide-de-camp] to the viceroy, escorting the said ladies; a Mingrelian prince, dressed like a Circassian; crowds of Cossacks, Bashkirs, Mingrelians, Russians, and others, whom I regret to say I included at the time under the general head of filthy miscreants. These, with a few pretty girls of the peasant order, and quantities of most unclean baggage, were disgorged upon the deck of the [ship] Alexander, till there was no space to turn.
We breakfasted at eleven o'clock, and were most unfairly made to pay extra for the meal, as though we had been stopping on our own account. I sat next [to] a Russian lady, the picture of dyspepsy [disturbed digestion], but very ladylike and agreeable. She ate quantities of unripe fruit, caviar, pickles, and other indigestibles, and on my hinting that such was not the diet for invalids, she assured me nothing ever disagreed with her. Hereupon I asked her if she were on a tour of pleasure. "Oh, no!" she said. "I am so ill that I must go to Odessa, to put myself under a really good doctor." On this, a little man, who sat near, observed, as though in emulation of her paradox, that the climate of Poti was a very good one. "Ciel!" exclaimed the invalid: "je n'ai jamais rien entendu de si barbare qu'ça. C'est le climat le plus affreux du monde." ["Good lord! I have never heard anything so barbaric. This is the most dreadful climate in the world."]
While this dispute was going on I was admiring the Mingrelian prince, who was really one of the handsomest men I ever saw, and the Circassian [in actuality, a Georgian chokha] dress set off to the utmost advantage his magnificent form. On my remarking to a Russian employee who sat near me on the beauty of the Mingrelian and his noble bearing, he replied, "C'est vrai, mais il a vole du poisson la semaine passee." [That's true, but he stole fish this past week.]
The invalid lady now began to smoke, and I went on deck, when a tall Russian militaire [an officer] came and talked to me. He abused the Russian Government, and said money was lavished on follies, while works of real utility were starved. I replied, "Your Government is wise and well-intentioned, but your empire is so vast it is impossible to superintend everything." While I was wondering whether I had to do with one of those espions who, it is said, fasten themselves in Russia on all strangers, M. B_______* came up and told me that my friend was a prince, an officer of the Imperial Guard, and a director of a well-known company.
*[Eastwick never identifies "B____, only notes that he was an aide-de-camp to Prince Alexander Baryatinsky, the viceroy of the Caucasus. Judging from later notes, B____ was a Georgian prince]
We now got into the little steamer and made for the shore. It was so crowded that there was no place to sit down, nor was there any protection from the sun, which baked us unmercifully. On landing we had to walk up half a mile to the hotel, and sheer compassion compelled me to carry all that way the sick child of one of the troupe, who, poor creature! was herself so ill that she could scarce totter on.
The hotel at Poti consists of two low houses, very much like Indian banglas of the shabbiest description. Into one of these the ladies of the troupe were put, and I and the other males ensconced ourselves in the other. The landlady was Frenchwoman, who came from Teflis under an engagement to keep the hotel for three years. She told me she had been that very morning to entreat that she might be allowed to go, though only one year of her covenant had expired. The authorities refused, and she was bewailing herself and regretting that she had not la force to get away. I asked her her name, and she said "Madame Jacquot." As this, if literally interpreted, means "Poll parrot," or "Pug," I must confess it sounded somewhat apocryphally in my ears. Moreover, I had rather an aversion to call out "Poll parrot," when I wanted anything. Still there was no help for it, and "Jacquot!" "Madame Jacquot!" was soon sounding in all directions. It reminded me of two odd French names which led to an imbroglio in India. A high political functionary at the time of the Kabul war [ First Anglo-Afghan War (1839–1842)] was informed that two foreigners were passing through the province under his control, and sent to ask their names. One replied that he was called Mouton, and the other said he was Le Boeuf. The great man was scandalized, and would not believe in the coincidence of "Sheep" and "Ox" travelling together, so sent and arrested them until, with much difficulty, it was ascertained that they had kept to the letter of their lawful designations.
After vainly essaying a solitary game at billiards as a passe-temps, I spoke to an Italian, who was eating his breakfast with a most rueful countenance. He said he was an employee of Government and agent for the delivery of parcels. The value of this announcement was somewhat impaired by his adding that his house had been broken into and pillaged that morning. On my speaking to the landlord about this, he said it was "tres peu de chose, rien qu'un petit pistolet, un sac de voyage, et quelques paquets" [A triffling thing, nothing [stolen] but a small pistol, a traveling bag, and some packages]. Evidently he thought no robbery worth mentioning unless there was a good haul. He said his hotel was safe, and that of the agent a long way off and more exposed. "Nevertheless," said he, "as there are some bad characters about, I will, when you go out, lock your door and put the key in my pocket."
Having received this assurance I lay down for an hour or two, and had the satisfaction of discovering that my bed had but few bugs in it. On the other hand, it was somewhat of a drawback that it smelt insufferably, and that the fleas' were more numerous than the sand on the sea-shore.
At 5 p.m. I got up, and on inquiring for M. B_____, I was told that he had gone to bed at the house of a friend. On going down to him he said he felt very ill, and had a slight coup de soleil. I then inquired for his friend, and learned that he had just been seized with fever, and on looking about me I discovered him stretched on the floor in a corner, in a violent paroxysm. This did not look promising, but, after drinking some delicious tea served in tumblers, I went on to the custom-house and got all my boxes, unopened. I next recovered my passport and went to the commandant of the station, a colonel of marine, to whom I delivered a letter from Prince Labanoff. On reading it he promised me horses for the eighty-four versts to Marand, the water in the river being too low to admit of my going by boat.
On my return I paid another visit to M. B____, and in spite of his illness asked him to dinner at the hotel. He declared he was too unwell to eat, but, nevertheless, accepted the invitation, and, being naturally of a vigorous constitution, managed to drink a bottle of Bordeaux and three glasses of brandy and water, and to partake of every dish that was brought to table. After this he smoked an infinite number of cigarettes, and went away in improved health and much pleased with his entertainment.
The broiling heat of the day was succeeded by tremendous squalls and heavy rain at night. I was awakened on the morning of the 7th [of August] by Hope, with her rainbow pinions, pointing out that there would probably be a flood sufficient for the pigmy steamer to ascend the river, also by some insect that was endeavoring to ensconce itself in my ear. I paid my bill, which was but six roubles and six kopeks, and walked through a pouring rain to the house of M. Markovich, the agent for the transportation of goods, where M. B______ had taken up his quarters. As it was impossible to ride eighty versts in a deluge, with no change of apparel at the end of the journey, the Cossack horses which had been sent for us were dismissed.
The captain of the little steamer was now summoned and asked if the rain would raise the river to a height or depth which would admit of his vessel's ascending. He shook his head, and said the fall of rain at Poti was not the smallest indication of rain on the hills, which alone had any effect on the navigation. I did not believe him, but the event proved he was right. It rained all day, and at times with tropical violence, but the odious river would not rise even an inch. There was nothing for it but patience, and to pass the time M. Marcovich's assistant, a native of Odessa, educated at Moscow, offered to take me a walk to Palaiostom [Paliastomi], or "ancient mouth," of the Rhion, or Phasis.
Accordingly we walked through the pelting rain and up to our knees in mud, to another river, about half a mile off. All round was a dense forest of low trees about thirty feet high, covered with creepers. A boat was to take us some half a mile farther to the Palaiostom. But the dispatch of this boat depended on the will of a Mingrelian landholder, and on sending to him, the reply was that he was asleep, and could not be disturbed. We waited two hours in the hope the great man would awake, and tried to amuse ourselves with fishing. In this, too, we were unsuccessful. We saw, however, numbers of fish of a large size leaping out of the thick, turbid water. They were, we were told, of the Som [catfish] kind. These are very voracious, and will even seize people when bathing.
It was the very dreariest scene I ever beheld. The rain fell uninterruptedly on the dank matted jungle and the dismal muddy pool; every now and then a fish leaped and fell back with a sullen plunge, the tree frog chirped weirdly, and fever and pestilence brooded over the whole forest. It was the Dismal Swamp in Dred [American author Harriet Beecher Stowe's novel Dred: A Tale of the Great Dismal Swamp]. Weary and wet we trudged back to the agent's house, and passed through the whole cantonment - a large, straggling, miserable place. At the farthest end from the sea were the huts of the filles publiques [prostitutes]. We saw several soldiers sitting there. After we had returned to the house, the boat of the sleeper came for us, with four rowers.
This trifling incident formed a good indication of Mingrelian character. The Mingrelians are always asleep at the time for virtuous action, and awake when they are not wanted, for more incorrigible thieves do not exist anywhere. There is such an innocence - I had almost said honest dignity - in their manner when they are appropriating the goods of another, that one feels, like the benevolent man in Sadi [Persian poet Sadi - Abū-Muhammad Muslih al-Dīn bin Abdallāh Shīrāzī], almost inclined to push something in their way, lest they should be disappointed.
The rest of the day was passed by M. B_____ and the other Russians in playing Preference. It is true they played but one game, but it lasted about three hours, and I was heartily sick of looking on. After dinner one of the company launched out into such a harangue against emperors and despots as made me excessively cautious of expressing any opinion at all. The night passed in struggles to avoid suffocation, every door and window being closed up to shut out the marsh miasma. In these struggles I was greatly aided by the fleas, and other visitors, who prevented me from indulging in a recumbent position for more than a few minutes together, and kept the blood in circulation.
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