Richard Wilbraham, Travels in the Trans-Caucasian provinces of Russia (1839) - Part 2

After arriving at Tiflis in early September, Richard Wilbraham, the young British captain of the Seventh Fusiliers, spent just a few days in the Georgian capital. With preparations underway for the visit of Russian Emperor Nicholas I, Wilbraham decided to cross the Caucasus mountains and visit southern Russian provinces.

September 7th [1837]. I quitted Tiflis at half-past eight, and though my crew would have cut a curious face in St James's Street, here it was quite the thing. Three little shaggy horses driven by a dirty Cossack, clad in sheep-skin, I rattled along merrily enough through the town, the very first hill purpose plainly told me that I should require additional pair, for we came to a dead stand. For about twenty versts we followed the course of the Kur [Kura / Mtkvari River] through a cheerful country abounding in orchards and vineyards. From Tiflis one lofty chain of the Caucasus is visible in clear weather, the highest peak of which, Mount Kasbek, is always capped with snow, and now bounded to the north our view. At the point where the Kour, descending from the hills of Imeretia, bends at a right angle to the southward, we still followed the right bank until we reached a bridge, which we crossed, and retracing our steps on the left bank, we entered the miserable town of Mtskheta, now a mere heap of ruins, but in remote ages the capital of Georgia. So early as the year 469 of the Christian era the seat of government was removed to Tiflis, Mtskheta long continued a town of some importance, till it was laid in ashes by the destroyer Timur [Tamerlane]. The walls of a broad church are the only relics of ancient splendor.

We now quitted the Kour and tracked the course of the Aragvi, one of its tributaries. Thirty versts more brought us to the town of Douzethi [Dusheti], built on a sloping bank which overlooks a cheerful and cultivated country studded with Georgian villages. A small fort commands the town, and is garrisoned by half a battalion. There is, indeed, scarcely a town in Georgia, however inconsiderable, which does not contain a detachment of infantry.

My horses were already harnessed, and I was about to proceed, when my German servant, by ill-luck chanced to hit upon a countryman who invited him to dinner. I was good-natured enough to give him my permission but hardly had he left me when a "feldjäger," courier from Petersburg, galloped into the square, and there being no other horses at home, mine were taken out and transferred to his post-waggon, in spite of all my remonstrances. Poor Peter was quite aghast when he saw the mischief his gross appetite had made, and he vowed that he would sooner have gone without his dinner the whole day than have been the cause of my detention - a wish in which I cordially joined.

Evening closed in and no horses had returned, so I made ​​the best of a bad job, and bade Peter prepare dinner for me at his friend's, who keeps almost the only tavern between Tiflis and the baths. Afterwards I strolled out into the square to enjoy the evening breeze. I had just ensconced myself in the corner of my britchka, when the sound of music caught my ear, and I listened with real pleasure to the singing of a picket of Cossacks grouped round the gate of the post-house. The air was generally slow and plaintive, but one lively little song of the Don haunted me the whole night through.

September 8th. At eight in the morning several teams returned, and as soon as the horses had been fed, we once more got under weigh, and at a brisk trot ascended the long hill which lay before us. On reaching the summit the leaders were unhooked, and the descent was uninterrupted as far as Ananouri. We skirted a range of hills which form the northern boundary of the deep and fertile valley which lay below us to our left; above us the hills were clothed with tufted woods, but the axe had encroached upon the forest, and wherever the mountain side was not so steep as to forbid cultivation, rich fields of yellow corn were waiting for the sickle. Numerous hamlets were perched upon the plateaux which projected from the mountain side high above our heads; and I have always remarked that the Georgians choose an elevated situation for their villages.

Our next stage was Pasanouri [Pasanauri], a small military post lying in one of the prettiest and most secluded little nooks that can be imagined. The postmaster at first refused to let me have any horses, because he had only twelve in the stable, and he had been ordered to keep that number in gentle exercise until the arrival of the Emperor. Considering that it wanted almost two months to the Emperor's coming, and that no exercise could be better for them than to run the stage along which they were to have the honour of drawing the imperial carriage, I thought the refusal somewhat unreasonable, and appealed to the commandant, who, like a second Daniel, decided, but not without some deliberation, that as they had furnished me with horses at the preceding post, there could be no great harm in passing me on. Near Pasanouri is a quarantine station, used only when the plague is raging in Georgia.

We soon made up the time we had lost, for the road was smooth and level for the first twelve miles. Leaving the bed of the Aragvi we then toiled for nearly an hour of steep and uninterrupted ascent, and reached Cashaour just as daylight deserted us. Meanwhile the moon had risen in time to light us down the dangerous passes of the " Gootgora," and the "Krestawa-gora," where we had to lock the hind-wheels and unspan our leaders. Unless the misty light of the moon deceived me, the road skirted the very brink of some tremendous precipice: at times the moon was veiled behind dark masses of clouds, and the surrounding scene bore a resemblance to the stormy ocean; round us on every side rose dark swelling masses like gigantic waves, and the white crests of some of the loftier ranges, which still caught the moon-beams, were like the curl of some tremendous billow; above us was a stormy sky, across the face of which a strong northwester drove the heavy clouds, which would otherwise have broken into torrents of rain.

It was midnight when we reached Kobi, and the drunken post-master positively refused me horses. A Russian officer, who was travelling the same road, kindly took up the cudgels for me, and they set-to abusing each other in no measured terms, in the midst of which I fell asleep, and was only wakened by a sudden jerk which nearly threw me off my seat. Peter informed me that the two combatants, after exhausting the vocabulary of abuse, had mutually apologized for any uncivil terms which might have dropped from them in the heat of the discussion, kissed each other lovingly on either cheek, and then the horses had been produced. It was quite dark during the next stage, and in spite of the jolting I contrived to sleep pretty soundly When I awoke day had begun to dawn, and the carriage was standing at the door of the post-house in the little village of Kasbek. On the opposite side of the valley of the Terek rose the noble mountain of the same name, worthy of the fiction which has assigned it as the place of punishment of Prometheus.

"The Pass of Dariel" as Captain Wilbraham drew it in September 1837

So deep was the valley through which our road now led, that for several hours we travelled in the deepest shade. On either side the mountains rose like stupendous walls of granite, from every cliff and ledge of which, wherever they could find a scanty nourishment, protruded stunted pines. It almost made me giddy to look up these precipices; a thousand jutting crags seemed ready to detach themselves and crush the passing traveller. We soon reached the pass of Dariel [Darial], the gate of the Caucasus, where the rocks so nearly meet that their base is washed by the foaming Terek, and the road is excavated in the solid rock overhanging the furious stream. Near the entrance of the pass are seen the ruins of an ancient fortress, which commanded the passage of the Caucasus, and which was long garrisoned by the Arabs. It was here that I first perceived the gigantic scale of this mountain scenery. The perpendicular walls which form the portal of the gate, and which the eye in vain essays to measure, are in proportion to the mountains behind them but as the pedestal to the tall column, yet these latter are entirely free from snow, and rank as pigmies beside Mount Elburz, Kasbek, and the other monarchs of the Caucasus.

After passing Dariel the road became at every step less precipitous, and the mountains, gradually opening out on every side, disclosed the wide plain of the Kabarda. At intervals of half-a-mile pickets were posted on commanding sites, with horses ready saddled, and beacons to give instant notice of a night-attack from the mountaineers. At length we left the Caucasus behind us, and  entered on the plain. The Terek, now no longer pent up in its narrow bed, flows silently but still discoloured between grassy banks; before us lay the fort of Vladikawkas, on the site of a more ancient castle. A large force is stationed here, whose only duty is to escort the post across the dangerous plain of the Kabarda. The heavy post, which arrives once a week from Petersburg, is guarded by a hundred men, and one, or sometimes two, field-pieces; the extra, or light post, which is also weekly, is escorted by a patrol of Cossacks, to which is generally added a detachment of infantry, one foot-soldier being more feared by the Circassians than a dozen Cossacks. I secured horses without delay, as I was to cross the Kabarda with the convoy of the post, which was hourly expected. There are no post-horses kept here, but any number may be hired from the soldiers, who are allowed to turn a penny in this way.