John Malcolm, Sketches of Persia (1827)

Major General Sir John Malcolm (1769-1833) was a Scottish soldier and diplomat who had served as the British East India Company administrator and envoy to Persia during the Napoleonic Wars. While in Persia, Malcolm maintained a journal that he later published under the title of Sketches of Persia, from the Journals of a Traveller in the East (London, 1827). Malcolm had met many Georgians in Persia and left interesting descriptions of them, some of which are presented below. 

***

Aga Ibrahim had been a great trafficker in the slaves, male and female, which the army of Aga Mahomed [Agha Mohammad Shah of Persia] brought from Georgia in his irruption into that country in 1797 [1795]. He had retained one in his own family, of whom he appeared dotingly fond. The more wine he took, the more he spoke of his favourite Mariamne. “I have often,” said he, “offered to marry her, if she would only become a Mahomedan, but all in vain; and really, when she is on her knees praying before her cross, or chanting hymns to the Virgin Mary, she looks so beautiful, and sings so sweetly, that I have twenty times been tempted to turn Christian myself. Besides, I can hardly think of Paradise as delightful without Mariamne !”

***

Before leaving Abusheher we had received many proofs of the favour of the Prince Regent of Shiraz. Soon after our arrival at that place, a favourite officer of his Guards brought a present of twelve mule-loads of fruit. When this young man came to pay his respects to the Elchee, Khojah Arratoon [Armenian merchant, known by the name of 'Blue Beard'] desired to withdraw. When asked the reason: “Why,” said he, “the person who is deputed by the Prince Regent is a Georgian, the son of my next door neighbour in Tiflis. When Aga Mahomed Khan [Agha Mohammad Shah of Persia] plundered that city in 1797 [should be 1795], he was made a prisoner, with twenty or thirty thousand young persons of both sexes; and having since been compelled to become a Mahomedan, and now enjoying high rank, he may be embarrassed at seeing me.” The Envoy said, “It does not signify, you are my Treasurer, and must be present at the visit of ceremony; depend upon it he will not notice you.” It was as predicted; the bearer of the present, a very handsome young man, superbly dressed, and of finished manners, appeared to have no knowledge of Arratoon, though his eye rested on him once or twice. When the visit was over, the good Armenian could not contain himself: “That vile Mahomedan wretch," he exclaimed, “he has lost sight and feeling, as well as religion and virtue. Have I given him sweetmeats so often, to be stared at as a stranger? I should like to know who was his father, that he should look down upon me. It will be a mournful tale,” he concluded, “that I shall have to write to his mother, who is in great distress, and who, poor deluded creatures lives in hopes that there is still some good in this dog of a son of hers.” 

There was a mixture of wounded pride, of disappointment, and humanity, in Blue-beard's sentiments, that made them at once amusing, and affecting. He came, however, early next morning to the Envoy with a very different countenance, and evidently deeply affected. “What injustice have I not done,” said he, “to that excellent young man! He sent a secret messenger to me last night; and when we met, ran to embrace me, and after telling me the short tale of his captivity, sufferings, and subsequent advancement, inquired in the most earnest manner after his mother. He has not only given a hundred tomans to relieve her immediate wants, but has settled that I am to be the Agent for future remittances. He informed me that he recognized the friend of his youth, and never had more difficulty than in the effort to appear a stranger; but he explained his reasons for being so cautious: he is not only a Mahomedan, but has married into a respectable family, and is a great favourite with the Prince, and must, therefore, avoid any conduct that could bring the least shade of suspicion on the sincerity of his faith or allegiance. I shall make his mother very happy,” continued Blue-beard, who was evidently quite flattered by the personal attention of the young Georgian, and the confidence reposed in him; “for I will, when I send her the tomans, tell her my conviction, that her son, whatever he may profess, is a Christian in his heart. Indeed he must be so; for if he had been a true Mahomedan he would have acted like one, and have disowned, not supported, his mother, whom he must consider an infidel.” 

Michael Myers Shoemaker, The Heart of the Orient: Saunterings through Georgia, Armenia, Persia (1906) - Part 1

Michael M. Shoemaker (1853-1924) was American professional travel writer who achieved a literary success through his travelogues in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. After graduating from Cornell University in 1874, he devoted his life to traveling the world over and studying various cultures and peoples. He wrote numerous books of travel and history, including "The Heart of the Orient: Saunterings through Georgia, Armenia, Persia..." (1906) that was based on a lengthy trip he undertook in 1902-1903. Departing from Constantinople in the winter of 1802, he travelled through "the quaint and curious" Georgia (which he had first visited eight years prior) before proceeding to Iran.

TIFLIS

The day's ride is very beautiful, and as we fortunately have slight showers, there is no dust, while the air is laden with all the delicious fresh odours of spring. A Vermont boy would be amused at the attempts of these people toward tilling the soil. The plough used is of the most primitive description, and is drawn by ten yoke of young steers, guarded and conducted by seven men. The field that they are at work upon certainly is not more than three acres in extent, and at their rate of progress it should be ready for planting about October 1st, this being only March. The Vermont boy, with a good plough and stout pair of horses, would do the whole thing between the hours of milking and his noonday dinner, even allowing time for the removal of the usual rocks to be found on all New England farms. 

Numerous ruined castles and towers are passed, perched high up on the mountains or close to the rushing river. Armenian churches are now inclosed in high, strong, fortress-like walls; otherwise such jewels as adorn their shrines would prove too tempting to the robbers of the mountains.

This valley of Tiflis reminds one of many in France. Hedges of primrose, poppies, and cornflowers, roses and cherries; yet with all its resemblance to France, there is a certain indescribable something that recalls the "Land of the Vulture," and one would not be surprised to see the minarets of Cairo rise from the valley. The resemblance is even stronger when Tiflis comes in sight. 

The capital of Georgia looks very Eastern, very Oriental, in the evening sunlight. But the first entrance into her streets convinces us that we are under the dominion of the Czar. Russian police stand here, there, and everywhere, and the wide berth that is given them demonstrates better than words the control that Government exercises over this southern possession. There is a monument near the western entrance of the town, on the spot where the Czar Paul nearly lost his life through a runaway team. It would have been better if the accident had succeeded in ridding Russia of that licentious monarch. I fancy that the Empress Catherine imported her "particular friends" from this section. The men are very handsome, but of the far-famed Georgian women I can say very little. From here the Turks of old procured their beauties, and the types which pleased them are still plentiful in the streets of Tiflis—huge in size, with flabby, chalky skins, and faces with no ray of feeling or intelligence. That was their idea of beauty, and they could not have come to a better market. I have seen but one woman I could call beautiful. I shall mention her farther on.

I find, upon descending at the excellent Hotel de Londres, that I am "remembered" once more in Georgia, and all the forlorn and lonely feeling departs as the pleasant-voiced landlady, Madame Richter, advances with both hands extended, and a "Welcome again to Tiflis!" I am shown up-stairs into the same room, most comfortable in all respects, and I rub my eyes in some doubt as to whether I have ever been away.

How dirty we are! How delicious the huge baths of the town feel to our tired bodies! The water is naturally hot and I sit for half an hour under a strong spout. There is absolutely nothing that they will not furnish you at these bath-houses, if you pay for it. But all things are very expensive at Tiflis, as I discover this morning when I desire to cable home—six roubles per word ($3.00); more than from Calcutta. I know it is wrong, pure robbery, in fact, but I must send the message. As the rates from London are only one shilling per word to New York, all the rest, with the exception of our inland rate at home, goes to the lines between here and England, or to the operator's pocket here, which is much more likely.

The bazaars of Tiflis are commonplace, and, like most bazaars, dirty—but not picturesque in their dirt. In addition they are absolutely wanting in all that peculiar charm which makes those of Cairo and Tunis so delightful to wander through and linger in. Nor does one find here displayed all the thousands of attractive articles which in those other cities cause one to return laden to the hotel. 

Through the centre of the town, between deep walls of rock down which pours the sewage of the place, sweeps the river Kur, a most repulsive-looking stream. I might have described this river and the cliffs as possessed of the beauty of Eden, but it would have been somewhat wide of the truth; I might have filled these bazaars with old silver, antique firearms and swords, and fairy stuffs of all sorts; laden their air with the perfume of the roses and lilies; made you drink delicious coffee and eat "Turkish delight" therein, while you stared at the veiled women and gorgeously costumed eunuchs; I might have described a mosque that would surpass that of Sultan Hassan. But I fear, had you come here and found the river and its cliffs repulsive, the bazaars full of all that is unattractive, the coffee and Turkish delight entirely lacking, also the mosque, you might have voted me a fraud. It will surely be better to find this capital of the Georgians more pleasing than you had expected, and if you content yourself with the panorama she displays, you will vote her enchanting; for the world, I think, holds no more superb view than that presented by this city of Tiflis approached from the great Darial Pass over the Caucasus.

After the death of [Queen] Tamara [in the early 13th century], Jenghis Khan swept like a black cloud over the valley, leaving such desolation and destruction that Tiflis has never recovered her ancient glory.

I met this morning, in the court of the hotel, an Englishman who has been living here for five years —at least he has lived in the country that length of time—and when I questioned him as to the climate he replied that, to those who lived here, hell possessed no further terrors—that is, in the matter of heat.

Trees of any size are unknown in Georgia. I noticed in crossing the Caucasus that nothing larger than a scrub was to be seen: no forests of stately pines near the summits, no dense groves of majestic trees lower down, no "aisles of the forest" spreading around one; plenty of green, but all so diminutive that even the telegraph wires are supported on rails from the railroad to which are bound sticks of timber certainly not more than ten feet long, but quite as long as can be found here or anywhere around here. The result is that refuse petroleum is the usual fuel.

I am awakened this morning by a burst of martial music, which draws me out into the fresh air, and I find that the town is all alive with soldiers wending their way from all directions to the public square. At its entrance stands a small Russian church, and the music of the many bands becomes reverential and tender as they pass the holy icons, although their selections are somewhat singular. I confess to being somewhat shocked, and almost look to see one particular saint in a long purple garment strike into a skirt dance. But no; neither does he drift into a waltz as the tender notes of Auf Wiedersehen are wafted on the air. This is the anniversary of the day when Russia finally settled, in the conquest of Schamyl, the Caucasus question, in which she employed 180,000 men to conquer the 15,000 of that chieftain... To-day his conquerors celebrate all this by holding high mass in the gardens here. The soldiers are arranged in a huge square and stand at attention as the general passes around in inspection. Russia does not neglect the religious welfare of her troops. Daily attendance at service is required, and to-day her priests, gorgeous in green and gold and purple, hold high celebration of the sacred rite. Then one and all are blessed, and with a fanfare of trumpets the troops move off to their barracks.

[...]

We spend our first Sunday in sleeping late into the morning and in a long stroll in the afternoon. The hills which surround Tiflis are barren and drear to the point where they rise to the higher mountains. While every here and there an Armenian church is sharply silhouetted against their dun-coloured sides. The ruined walls of the ancient fortress crown an eminence in the centre of the valley, and as we pass along them the town itself spreads all round, some hundreds of feet below, with its flat red, green, and blue roofs offering the only bits of colour in all the prospect; but the most characteristic features are the round, lantern-like cupolas of the Armenian churches, rising here, there, and everywhere. Their sides are perpendicular and their tops like an old-fashioned extinguisher of tin. This sect [Armenians] is, from an economic point, the backbone of Georgia, and is increasing rapidly. 

There are comparatively few Russian churches in Tiflis, but those of this ancient people [Armenians] are many. Russia forces them to use her language, but she cannot bend them to her form of religion, and that is indeed a thorn in her side. They are increasing rapidly and have more than doubled in numbers since the northern power conquered Tiflis. Their holy city is Etchmiazin, and the cathedral of that city furnishes the model for all these churches, which, be they large or small, are exactly of the same form,—a Latin cross with generally three round towers, one, large, in the centre and one on either side thereof, each surmounted by the cone of metal. In the interior are three altars, a centre and two side ones, immediately under the cupolas, and before each of which hangs, as in the temple at Jerusalem, a heavy veil, drawn aside at certain times.

By making this ancient sect feel that they are outnumbered by keeping them from office and by forcing the use of the Russian language, the Government of the Czar hopes finally to absorb them into the Greek Church, but the result is more than doubtful. The Empire dares not use greater force now, the occupation of this land having been a difficult step in the march south.

It is believed here that Russia is gathering for a move farther southward, and that it is but a question of a few years before she makes her southern boundary at the Arabian Sea, absorbing all of Persia, Turkey in Asia and probably in Europe, and Western China. England has often surrendered places once occupied,— has Russia ever done so? Does she not move steadily and irresistibly onward? Is not the sale to us of Alaska the only instance of a surrender of land once in her actual possession? Does any man believe that she will ever surrender Manchuria, or, on the contrary, that Peking is not her ultimate goal?

I think in my visit to Tiflis eight years ago that I did not do justice to the modern Russian city, or rather that I did not notice it as it deserved. It is all well built. The great street [present-day Rustaveli Avenue] is magnificent in length and width. There are several museums, a fine palace and church, and an opera house that would do justice to St. Petersburg, and there are several theatres, but, as in every Russian city, the pavements are horrible.

This week in Tiflis has passed very pleasantly, and I shall depart to-night with a totally different impression from that which I carried away with me in '94. Truly, pleasant companions make a great difference. As for the Hotel de Londres, I cannot too strongly express my content and satisfaction therewith. The people who keep it are Germans, the house is cleanliness itself, the table excellent, and the rooms most comfortable. In fact, I know of no hotel in Russia, those of the great cities not excepted, which can approach it. "Madame" realizes the necessity in this land for absolute cleanliness if health is to be maintained, hence her rooms are covered with oil cloth, which is washed off each day. The Turkish mats spread over this are thoroughly shaken each morning. The beds are of iron.

I may seem to dwell too long, to make too much of all this, but those of my readers who have visited these far-off lands will understand what an oasis such a house is amidst the abominations called "hotels" throughout the Russian dominions. We are charged seven roubles (about $3.50) per day, American plan, and the food is dainty and excellent.

I have seen but one Georgian woman that could be called a beauty. She was at the circus on Sunday. Her face was a pure oval, with large, black, antelope.like eyes, over which arched delicate eyebrows; a delicate, straight nose rose above a perfect mouth, and her complexion was beautiful. She wore a straight, broad gold band across her forehead and around her glossy black hair, which was bound down over her ears; from this band an emerald green veil fell far downward over a dress of the same colour. Both were of some soft stuff.

As a rule, however, the men are finer-looking than the women; many are superb specimens, and when robed in picturesque uniform [national costume] present engaging pictures. Yonder is one superbly formed and surely six feet six in height. His face and beard would do justice to Darius the King, and the former is crowned by a most picturesque turban of silver-grey astrakhan fur. His coat is of the same colour, and falls to the top of his highly polished black boots, while across his breast are two rows of long, bright cartridges, and his sword has scabbard-handle and tip of gold. He is handsome and he knows it, possessing none of the usual ignorance on that point common to our sex. On returning to the hotel I find Casimir awaiting me with the information that all is arranged for our onward movement to-morrow.

Maynard Owen Williams, Russia's Orphan Races (1918)

Maynard Owen Williams (1888-1963) was a National Geographic correspondent and photographer. Self-described "camera-coolie and a roughneck", Williams was the National Geographic's first foreign correspondent, who had traveled widely and provided the journal with a steady stream of fascinating stories and vivid photographs. In the fall of 1917, as the Russian Empire came crumbling down, Williams traveled across its southern regions, crossed the Caucasus and visited Georgia on his way to Central Asia. His later wrote a lengthy report on his experiences, which was published in October 1918 issue of the National geographic (Vol. XXXIV, No.4).

RUSSIA'S ORPHAN RACES

Picturesque peoples Who Cluster on the Southeastern borderland of the Vast Slav Dominions

A few miles south of the snow ridge of the Caucasus, there is a wretched little village whose fame should be world-wide. Mtzkhet has claims to antiquity that make New England towns appear as embryos, for its citizens assert that it was founded by one of Noah's sons, who strolled over from Mount Ararat one day after the waters had subsided and chose this site because of its excellent drainage.

Beneath its terraced homes two rivers unite: the clear, cold Aragwa, hastening from its birthplace in the eternal snows of the Caucasus to the hot depression of the Caspian, and the Kura, sullied and dirty, swinging in from the west to make its way down the Tiflis depression and across the barren Transcaucasian steppe, between the mountains of Daghestan and the highlands of Armenia.

Damascus has a verdant freshness about it that is as deceptive as grease paint, but Mtzkhet stands out from green fields and pastures new like a weathered, sharp-bowed fishing smack in an emerald sea. On a rock cliff opposite this quiet city with the cat-fight name the kings of Georgia erected their first castle, but it was in Mtzkhet itself that Georgia was born. 

The Georgians admit their descent from the Accadians and Sumerians, but there is nothing in their appearance or personality to indicate their descent from anything. They seem to have ascended from the plane of other men. Militant of appearance, handsome of countenance, chivalrous, and unfamiliar with hard toil, these lovers of wine, women, and song are as princely in bearing as the unwashed Bedouin before his desert tent. Part of them are mountaineers - the most picturesque brigands that ever carried an arsenal at their belts. The rest are agricultural people, whose contact with the soil does not prevent them from holding their chests up like soldiers in uniform.

The Georgian women conquered the Turkish rulers by the palace route, but the Georgian men are handsomer than their wives, and in Georgia the male wears the fine plumage. But he treats his wife and daughters well and never allows them to act as servants.

There is so much strength in the Georgian face that the women lose their greatest charm by the time they mature. The classic nose is too noble to be pretty, the straight, large mouth shows determination rather than a Cupid's bow, and the fine eyes soon dominate a face that is manly in its beauty. In the Tiflis Red Cross cafes one may see scores of Georgian women with short, curled hair who could pose as Belvedere Apollos, but never a Venus.

St. Nina established a Christian church in Mtzkhet about 347 A. D., which was for many years a center for Christian culture. The Georgians assert that they were Christians before the Armenians, and vice versa; yet the princely but spendthrift Georgians and the oppressed but wealthy Armenians have been so much mixed throughout their history that there are today persons who call themselves Georgians and who speak Georgian, but who attend the Armenian church, while Armenians speaking Armenian are often found in Georgian churches.

The Georgians are good hosts and the Armenians are shrewd business men. That is why the Golovinski Prospekt in Tiflis, one of the proudest avenues in the world, is owned by Armenians and brightened by the presence of the Georgians, the handsomest young people one can find in Asia.

On October 14, 1917, I attended the investiture of the Georgian Katholikos[-Patriarch Kirion II] at Mtzkhet, the first in one hundred years. This was the first step this militant people, who had chafed under the burden of Tsardom, made toward independence. The affair at Mtzkhet marked their religious autonomy and freedom from the Russian Church. On May 26, 1918, after the Turks took the Batum and Kars districts, thus leaving only historic Georgia to the Transcaucasian Republic, the Georgian Diet declared their independence, thus virtually ending the Transcaucasian Republic, in which Tatars had had four representatives to Georgia's three.

Whether Georgia can hold out against the Turks and Germans remains to be seen, but of one thing we may be sure, Georgia will never tamely submit to oppression. She flirted with Germany's Pan-Turanian schemes and as late as June 19, 1918, was forced to send delegates to Constantinople to confer with the Central Powers; but Georgia has never relished the idea of subservience and she may hold out till relief can reach her.

Every train entering Mtzkhet on October 14, 1917, was packed to the doors. Crowds of young men from Tiflis rode on the roofs in order to see the colorful drama of the rebirth of a proud nation. It was not until the procession between the tiny station and the stately church was formed that order appeared in the kaleidoscopic scene. At the head of the line was a handsome Georgian, bearing aloft a blue silk banner inscribed in silver with Georgian characters and surmounted by a silver disc which bore the picture of some great saint. He was dressed in soft black boots, a dark-brown tcherkeska,.with its narrow waist and flowing skirts and cartridge cases across the breast, and wore the small Georgian skull cap; but as necessary as his dress were the sword and dagger and, strange anachronism, an automatic pistol in a brand-new russet case at his hip. Death-dealing weapons are still articles of ordinary dress in Georgia.

The color-bearer was flanked by two swordsmen in wine-colored plush doublets edged in soft fur, scarlet trousers, soft white-leather boots with gold tassels, and anklets of soft white leather with narrow stripes of red leather trimming.

Behind them came thirty or more male singers, gaily dressed and followed by a band of young women wearing Marguerite braids which reached below the knees. Over their close-fitting bodices of figured silk in soft tints of gray and blue they wore flowing velvet cloaks of delicate blue edged in fur. Their skirts, of queenly length, were paneled in the same soft tinted material as composed their bodices and their soft boots were hidden except for the shapely toes.

Then came a huge motor-car, crawling along with all the dignity due its chief occupant, the Katholikos-to-be. Forming a daisy chain about this ecclesiastical chariot were forty or more young Georgian girls, their smooth cheeks flushed beyond their usual fine color by the excitement. Most were dressed in simple white, against which their raven hair and rosy cheeks showed lively contrast, but a few wore tailored suits and small hats in the latest European style.

Behind these lovely ladies came gaunt Khevsurs, wearing chain coats of mail and chain helmets. Their straight swords were double-edged and each carried a small shield decorated with applique figures. Their small, wiry horses sniffed restively at the fumes of the motor-cars, resenting more than did their ruddy-haired masters this anachronism of eight centuries gap.

The Khevsurs wear the cross on their clothing and are the champion religionists of the world, for they observe the Christian Sabbath, the Jewish Saturday, and the Mohammedan Friday, and their religion is a strange mixture of all three beliefs with paganism. An early French traveler started the story that they were descendants of some Frankish Crusaders who fell in love with Georgian womanhood and forgot the Holy Grail in the midst of Georgian loveliness; but a matter-of-fact and very erudite Georgian scholar in Tiflis spoiled that story.

Inside the church, erected on the spot where the unseamed vesture of the Christ was found, after "having been brought hither from Golgotha by a Jew, there lie buried many of the proud but ill-fated line of Georgian kings, the last of whom, George XIII, ceded his territory to Russia in 1801 and died that year, broken-hearted, a true ruler, who could not conquer and therefore faced the only alternative—death.

Sixteen centuries have passed since the first Christian church was erected on that site: yet in the necropolis beyond there are remains of broad-headed men of the Iron Age, compared with whom Heraclius, Queen Tamara, the Guramides, and the Pharnavasians are unromantic moderns. They could tell of times before Prometheus was bound to the heights of Kasbek and Jason came hither in search of the Golden Fleece. Mtzkhet is ancient, but it is only a way station on the great highway of history across the mountain barrier which bridges the land-masses of Europe and Asia.

Fredericka and Wilhelm von Freygang, Letters from the Caucasus and Georgia (1812)

Wilhelm von Freygang (1782-1849) was a Russian diplomat and writer. His father served as the personal physician to Emperor Paul I. Wilhelm was educated at the University of Göttingen, where he earned his doctorate in 1804. Returning to Russia, he embarked on a diplomatic career, working at the Russian ministry of foreign affairs as well as the Russian embassies in Vienna and Paris. While in Vienna, he married Fredericka Kudryavcheva, with whom, in 1812, he traveled to the Caucasus to participate in the Russo-Persian negotiations. On this journey the couple visited Georgia and southern Caucasia, with Fredericka writing a series of letters that were eventually published in the couple's travelogue "Letters from the Caucasus and Georgia," first published in German and the translated into other European languages; the English edition came out in 1823.

After he service in Persia, Freygang continued his diplomatic career, serving at the Russian embassy in the Netherlands in 1814-1819 and as the Russian Consul General in Saxony in 1820-1833. He spent the last fifteen years of his life in North Italy. 

Tiflis, 5th February, 1812

Every evening the wife of the Governor-General receives the Georgian ladies, of whom the greater part are princesses of the country, and some among them are of the family of the czars. The most interesting of these is Thekla, daughter of Heraclius: she is married to a Prince Orbelianow [Orbeliani], and is no disgrace to the stock whence she sprang. These ladies come on horseback attended by a servant; they are covered from head to foot with a large white veil, so that a cavalcade of them may in the dark be taken for a train of ghosts: some upon their arrival throw aside this veil, and appear in the Georgian costume. The General has signified his wish to see this strange dress changed for the European, and a few have already had the courage to venture upon the innovation. However, though the oriental costume may seem extraordinary to us, I think it is perfectly adapted to the climate and habits of the country. In Persia, for example, where the men pass the greater part of their time on horseback and in the use of arms, they wear a dress conveniently loose; but that of the ladies is made to fit closer to the shape, as they seldom quit their sofas. In Europe the man takes off his hat; but the Persian, who never uncovers his head, puts his shoes off upon entering a house, that he may not injure the carpet, which is often of great value. There are many other customs which are quite opposite to those of Europe; at the Georgian dinner for instance, which commences with what is our dessert, and the extreme heat induces the people to take no food that is not light and cooling: in consequence of this temperance, they are generally robust, and attain to an advanced age. The men are clad warmly even in summer, for the evenings are always more or less cool...

Tiflis, 12th February, 1812

I have lately been present at a wedding, and was this morning spectator of a burial. The following are the Georgian customs upon these occasions.

They marry very young, the bride being often no more than twelve years of age, and the husband perhaps fifteen. Not infrequently they are betrothed from the cradle, but remain during the greater part of their childhood unknown to each other: they have a rule indeed that those betrothed are not to see each other until the nuptial day. The contract takes place in the church according to the Greek [Orthodox] ritual, excepting that the spouse is covered with a veil, not allowing even the future husband to see the features of his bride; for here marriage is a matter of speculation, rather than an affair of the heart: upon coming out of church, muskets are fired off in honour of the young couple. 

On their nuptial day, the bride, loaded with jewels and other ornaments, and covered with a veil reaching to the ground, is placed on a carpet, where she sits with her legs folded according to the custom of the country. To complete her resemblance to an Indian pagod [idol], this statue of a wife remains the whole day in the same position, without eating or drinking, and what is more extraordinary, without speaking a word. It would seem as if in Georgia, marriage were one of those associations, into which none can be admitted until proved by severe trials; but it is some consolation to the novice, that her intended partner is subjected to the same ceremony. Having been introduced into the house, he places himself by the side of his fair unknown, and in like manner remains silent for an equal length of time. Were they to turn their backs on each other for a moment, it would be deemed a serious lovers' quarrel: but, in this submissive posture, they appear to say to each other—" they would marry us, don't be angry with me, it is not my fault." 

After the ceremony, the bride is unveiled when a banquet, more or less sumptuous according to the condition of the parties, concludes the festival. Being present when a Georgian bride was first unveiled, I strove to remark any emotion that the new married couple might, as I thought, naturally feel, upon beholding each other for the first time; but my scrutiny was in vain, for the lady looked a mere statue: the man showed some slight satisfaction at sight of his wife, who was very young, and pretty enough. She would have been more so in my eyes, if unassisted by art; but her cheeks were daubed with paint, her eye-brows joined with a coarse pencilling, and she was quite disfigured with a tasteless profusion of pearls and diamonds. 

This mode of matrimony renders domestic happiness with the Georgians very uncertain. It has often been observed, that marriage is a lottery—a consideration which affords but a sorry consolation for unfortunate couples. Right reason however did never adjudge that, mere chance should regulate the fate of husbands and wives; for their happiness depends upon a certain relation in their tastes and principles, which it is essential to ascertain beforehand. Connections made at hazard, can only suit those communities, wherein marriage is but the means of forming an establishment, or of procuring wealth; and where the wife remains her husband's victim in slavery and indifference. Although the widow's grief be generally a token of the wife's affection, one may be deceived respecting that of the Georgian dames. I saw a man buried this morning: the widow remained prostrate for several hours before his coffin; her cheeks were flooded with tears, while her grief further vented itself in deep sighs and groans; and, at the frequent repetition of her husband's name, she tore her hair, and beat her breast, all her actions bespeaking sorrow and despair; but all this appears to be in the regular course of proceeding upon such occasions. In the funeral obsequies of a man, the horse of the deceased, with his saddle and stirrups thrown across it, precedes the body; his servants carry his arms, and the family close the train, making continual cries of lamentation; but this also is the custom. When the body is interred, the widow returns home, where she remains seated in the same place surrounded by her women in mourning, and all keeping a dead silence. This latter form is preserved during six weeks, being, as we may call it, their quarantine of sorrow; too long, you will agree with me, for such excessive grief to be sincere.

Louis-François de Ferrières-Sauveboeuf, Mémoires historiques, politiques et géographiques (1790)

Louis-François de Ferrières-Sauveboeuf (1762-1814) was a French traveler who visited the Ottoman Empire, Persia and Arabia during a lengthy trip in 1782-1789, on the instructions of the French Foreign Minister Charles Gravier, Comte de Vergennes, who was keen on acquiring first hand information about the situation in the region. 

Ferrières-Sauveboeuf maintained an travel journal that was published shortly after his return to France. Entitled "Mémoires historiques, politiques et géographiques des voyages du Comte de Ferrières-Sauveboeuf," the two-volume travelogue was published in Paris in 1790 and was almost immediately translated into Dutch and English. It  contains interesting observations about people and areas that Ferrières-Sauveboeuf had visited during his journey. Ferrières-Sauveboeuf  devoted much of the chapter XXII (pp. 268-276) to his description of Georgia.

Georgia, known in ancient times by the name of Iberia, enjoys a good climate, with great fertility of soil. Its inhabitants have been always renowned for their valour - they are esteemed [as] the best soldiers in Asia. The Georgians have been successively subject to the Turks, and tributary to the monarchs of Persia, who retain great numbers of them in their service. I have seen seen about 2000 in the army of Ali Mourad Khan who held them in the highest estimation as soldiers. Nadir Shah, known in Europe by the name of Thamas Kouli Khan, upon his return from the conquest of India, invested Prince Heraclius, who embraced Mahometism, with the government of Georgia. He had been previously dispossessed of his government by Prince Alexander, whose family reigned long since at Teflis, and who, upon this occasion, fled into Russia, in order to escape the pursuit of the conquering Khan. 

The Turks long contended with Nadir Shah for the sovereignty of Georgia, and the other divisions of Mount Caucasus. The people inhabiting around the Caspian Sea submitted, about the same time, to the Persian chief [Nadir Shah], and returned not, till after his death, to their allegiance to their natural lords. Heraclius, now eighty years of age, still continues to rule Georgia, and the province of Kaket [Kakhetia]. His eldest son, Aoud Khan, has given various proofs of valour in engagements with the Lesguis [Lezghians] and Komouks, who make frequent inroads into Georgia, to carry off young Georgian girls, whose beauty is the ornament of the Turkish and Persian seraglios.

There is in Georgia no fortified town. But Caucasus guards its frontiers. This martial race may, indeed, be conquered, but it is impossible that they should ever remain long subject to any conqueror. The Georgians are distinguished from other races by their physiognomy - they have almost all a fine figure, regular features, and an air of dignity. They are of an open character, of a generous spirit, mild in temper, yet irrepressible when their anger is provoked. Their religious creed and worship are a medley, partly Greek, partly Armenian. But they are in nowise superstitious, nor ever blame any person for not believing or worshipping in their mode.

Teflis, the capital of Georgia, is a large -town, lying along the banks of the river Kur, but consisting only of indifferent buildings. A citadel, of small importance at present, overlooks and commands it. Its walls are flanked with large towers, but the dilapidations of time have left them no longer in a condition to resist a siege. There is a square, considerably spacious, and not inelegant, which serves for the market-place. The Prince's palace is large enough, but has nothing remarkable about it, except for the gardens. Here is a house belonging to the Catholic -mission, possessed by Capuchin friars from Florence; and several monasteries, in which young women are frequently placed by their parents, till they can be settled in marriage. The nuns in these monasteries are not bound to perpetual virginity and residence, yet they are authorized to perform some of the clerical functions. They administer baptism and extreme unction. Here are also schools for the education of boys, who, after learning to read and write, become commonly either soldiers or husbandmen. They seldom turn themselves to trade, but leave this branch of employment to the Armenians, of whom great numbers are settled in Teflis. There are few Muslims, although Prince Heraclius, since returning to the religion of his forefathers [Christianity], has allowed them to build and open mosques in this city. 

The exports of Georgia consist of great quantities of silk, wines, and alcohol [eau-de-vie], the last of which is exchanged for Russian furs. The Georgians, and other inhabitants of Caucasus, sell their daughters to merchants, who spare them the expense of educating and settling them in marriage. And they are not concerned about the future fate of these young women, as their beauty seems to promise them splendor and happiness. But their male children they do not sell. All the Georgian and Circassian slaves in Asia, and those of whom the Egyptian mameluks, in the service of the beys, are composed, have been kidnapped or carried off, in hostile incursions by the Tartars and Lesguis.

Vines grow in Georgia, much in the same manner as in Lombardy. They produce abundance of fruit. The Georgians, and even the women among them, often drink to intoxication, especially at religious festivals. The Georgian cellars are caves hewn out in the rocks, and plastered within. The Georgian women are in general handsome - they have large black eyes, and rosy cheeks. They have not the character of being too cruel; their obliging temper makes strangers prefer them to all the women in Asia; especially since those in other Asiatic countries are so rigorously secluded from society. All the Muslim men, too, give the preference to the fair maids of Georgia. They are far from bashful, and readily give their lovers pledges, which signify that they would gladly grant them more.

Mingrelia is the ancient Colchis. Whatever may have been meant by the golden fleece, for which it was once so famous, it is certain, that at present it abounds in lovely fair-haired [blondes] damsels. This country includes two provinces beside those which have been mentioned, Imeretia and Guria. The death of Soliman Khan [King Solomon I of Imeretia, died in 1784], who had, with uniform steadiness, resisted the arms and negotiations of the Russian Empress [Catherine II], left the inhabitants of these provinces in a disposition to submit without difficulty to the power of Catherine. 

This vast country lies along the Black Sea, and contains mines of copper and iron; immense forests, affording excellent wood for the dock-yards; and abundance of game, which tempts the inhabitants to neglect the other natural advantages of their situation. The Mingrelians are handsomely shaped, their women resembling the Georgian beauties. But they are stupid and dissolute. A stranger who travels among both, cannot avoid seeing the great superiority of the Georgians. The Ottoman Porte have, for some time, lost their influence in Mingrelia. They have indeed given orders, but without effect, to the Pasha of Kars, to claim the ancient tribute. The Mingrelians have some superstitious practices prevalent among them, but of religion they know very little. They call themselves Christians, but are little concerned about mixing their creed.