Nikita Khrushchev, Memoirs

Nikita Sergeyevich Khrushchev (1894-1971) was First Secretary of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union from 1953 to 1964 and Chairman of the USSR Council of Ministers from 1958 to 1964. This excerpt is from Nikita Khrushchev, Memoirs of Nikita Khrushchev: Commissar, 1918-1945, Volume 1, edited by Sergei Khrushchev (University Park:  Pennsylvania State University, 2004).

In 1934 I was on vacation in Sochi. As my vacation time was running out, [Lavrentii] Beria invited me to return to Moscow by way of Tiflis. At that time the Russian name Tiflis was still used for the capital of Georgia, which was, properly speaking, called Tbilisi. I traveled to Batumi by steamer, and from Batumi to Tiflis by rail, and spent a whole day there...

In Tiflis I became acquainted with the Georgian comrades. Georgia made a good impression on me. I remembered the past, 1921, during the Civil War, when I had been with some Soviet military units in Georgia. Our unit had been stationed in Adzhameti [Ajameti], near Kutais, and our headquarters was in Kutais. Sometimes in the line of duty I rode into Kutais on horseback, most often from Adzhameti, fording the Rioni River. I still had good memories of that time, and it was pleasant to see Georgia again, to recall the past and the year 1921. 

Stalin jokingly called me an "occupier" when I told him my impressions of how negative the Georgians, especially the Georgian intellectuals, had been toward the Red Army. Sometimes I had to make a trip to the political department of the Eleventh Army, whose headquarters were in Tiflis. It happened that I was sitting in a railroad car together with some Georgians of my age. We were still young. I addressed them in Russian, but they wouldn't answer me. They acted as though they couldn't understand Russian, although I could see that they were former officers of the tsarist army and must have had a good command of Russian. 

The Georgian common people behaved differently. The peasants always greeted us very hospitably and invariably treated us to food and drink. If a family celebration was going on, they would arrange an extravagant feast in typical Georgian style. Any Red Army men who happened to arrive at their homes at such times would be literally dragged inside the houses, given something to drink, then be accompanied back to their military unit. But there was never a single case of violence against Red Army soldiers, although such possibilities existed. There were high growths of corn, bushes, and woods all around. 

When I told Stalin about this, he seemed to object: "Why are you taking offense against the Georgians? You should understand that you were an occupier. You had overthrown the Georgian Menshevik government." 

I answered: "That's true. I understand, and I do not feel offended. Im simply telling what the situation was like."

Handbook for Travellers in Russia, Poland, and Finland (1868)

Tourism as a popular pastime for the European society (and not just the elites) developed by the mid-19th century as Europe enjoyed a long period of peace after the Napoleonic Wars, and relative prosperity brought about by Industrial Revolution. In response to the growing interest in traveling, a modern travel guide was created. It appeared in its classic form by 1850s and has since remained an indispensable companion of the tourist. Below is a concise guide to Georgia from a British traveling guide published by John Murray in 1868. Murray's guide was one of the most popular and accessible guides, available for purchase in every major city in Europe (the guide, in fact, lists over 100 cities where it was available for sale):




There are two principal routes to Persia via Tiflis and the Caucasus : One by way of Constantinople and the Black Sea; the other by way of St. Petersburg and the Volga. 

Observation: Those who set out to travel in the Caucasus should not omit to provide themselves with everything requisite in a country where the modern appliances of civilized life are almost entirely wanting. The outfit should include a saddle, a portable bath, and a small cork bed. The money which a traveller will find most useful in Georgia is a supply of napoleons, easily exchanged for Russian money in the towns. A supply sufficient for the entire journey should be taken; and before leaving any town it is necessary to secure a considerable number of rubles in paper and small silver coins, wherewith to pay at each station for post-horses. 

The hire of post-horses throughout the Caucasus is 3 copecks a verst for each horse; no charge is made for the cart, but the drivers expect a small present of 15 to 25 cop. at each stage. At the stations travellers will generally only find a samovar or tea-urn, and nothing but eggs and black bread to eat; beef or mutton is for the most part not to be found. The utmost which the traveller will obtain through the Russian provinces, except at the towns, is very bad soup, or a fowl newly killed; vegetables and fruit are very scarce. But desirable as it is that more attention were paid to the provisioning of the stations, travelling in Georgia has a charm which fully compensates for the privations and causes them to be forgotten. Every facility is given by the Russian authorities to stranger tourists. In most parts of the provinces travelling is perfectly safe; and wherever it is attended with danger, as in Circassia and Daghestan, no one is allowed to proceed without the protection of a sufficient guard. The climate is at all seasons very pleasant, excepting towards the Persian frontier in the summer months [...] 

The route by Constantinople and the Black Sea, being the most expeditious, is described first.

Observation: Travellers must select their own route to Constantinople, which may be reached, 1. via Marseilles; 2. via the Danube; 3. via Trieste; and 4. via Ancona.

The steamers of the Russian Steam Navigation Company ply between Constantinople and Poti. Travellers change at Batoum into a steamer which performs the service between that port and Poti, and which has a less draught of water to enable it to cross the bar of the river Rion.

POTI. A fortified harbour at the mouth of the river Rion, the ancient Phasis, on the Caucasian coast of the Black Sea. The town is composed of a collection of wooden houses surrounded by a forest. The principal drawback to its development is the bar at the mouth of the Rion, which prevents most vessels from entering the river, and where it is very often so rough as to make all communication between the shore and the shipping outside impossible.

The climate of Poti is disagreeable, and fever prevails during the summer months. It is nevertheless the port of Tiflis, from which it is 360 v. (or 240 m.) distant, and a place of growing importance.

Hotels: "Colchide;" and another, more recently established, close to the landing-place of the steamer; both kept by Frenchmen.

A British Vice-Consul resides at Poti.

From Poti a small steamer proceeds up the Rion, twice a week, to Maran, 86 v. or 57 m. distant. There are no post-horses between Poti and Maran, but travellers have been able to secure riding-horses. In summer, when the road is dry, the distance may be accomplished in one day with the same horses; but in winter, when the mud is knee-deep, it is necessary to pass a night on the road. The way lies through the famous Mingrelian forest. The scenery along the Rion is beautiful. To the right are the Lesghian [Lesser Caucasus] mountains, and to the left, far away, are the snow-covered peaks of the [Greater] Caucasus. The structure of the houses, built on piles, would seem to indicate a very damp and feverish country onboth sides of the river. The Mingrelians and Imeritians, who will be met on the road, are probably the handsomest race in the world; and no one can travel through their country without being struck by the remarkable beauty of the women.

Observation: A railway is in course of construction from Poti to Tiflis. When completed, it will attract a great number of tourists to the Caucasus, a fuller description of which must be reserved for a new edition.

MARAN. It is a military station and contains about 2000 Inhabitants. The garrison is composed in great part of "Scoptsi," a Russian religious sect of which the tenets enjoin self-mutilation. The Caucasus is their place of banishment when discovered. As soldiers they are said to be very easily managed. The post-house is the place of refuge for travellers. Post-horses may be obtained here for Tiflis, and thence to Baku or Lenkoran, to the Persian frontier at Djulfa, or to any of the chief towns of the Caucasus. The posting establishment is so extensive as to occasion a considerable loss to the Government, at whose charge it is maintained. Travellers with courier podorojnas will get the best horses. A drive of 4 hrs., at an ordinary speed, will bring the traveller to [Kutaisi]

KUTAIS. (Pop. 5000), the ancient Cyta, the principal city of Colchis, and now the capital of Imeritia. It was to this place that Jason and his companions came in the Argo to obtain the Golden Fleece. The town is delightfully situated among green hills; and the Rion, twice crossed by stone bridges, flows through it. On a hill a little above the town are the remains of a building attributed to the Genoese. There are two hotels at Kutais: the proprietor of one is a Hungarian, and of the other a Russian; but no comforts will be found at either of them. It was to obtain possession of Kutais that Omar Pasha undertook the campaign on the eastern coast of the Black Sea in the autumn of 1855. The late advance of the Turkish army and the want of an efficient commissariat made the expedition abortive.

There are 6 stages between Kutais and Suram, at the watershed [The Likhi Range] that separates the provinces of Imeritia and Georgia. The first station is agreeably situated, and commands a good view. It contains 2 good-sized rooms. The road is rough, and the ordinary vehicles very uncomfortable. Those who are fond of fine scenery should make the fifth stage, through the splendid pass of Suram, in the daytime. The mountains through which the road winds are covered with trees from their summits to the valleys beneath. In winter the scenery loses much of its beauty, but nothing more picturesque can be imagined than the pass in the month of October, when the trees wear a great variety of tints. Several castles perched upon heights in front of the pass command extensive views. An ascent of about an hour and a half brings the traveller to the crest of the ridge, where the waters flow eastward. the same time will be occupied in descending the pass to the station of Suram.

There are 6 stations from Suram to Tiflis. The scenery becomes tamer; hills, more or less wooded, rise to the right and left of a bare plain, through which a metalled road [a road covered with gravel] has not yet been constructed. In the mountains near Suram is a watering-place called Burjan [Borjomi], to which the Imperial Lieutenant of the Caucasus retires in summer. The river Kur, the ancient Cyrus, takes its rise in that district.

The town of Gori is situated upon it, 2 stages beyond Suram. Before reaching it, the road crosses to the right bank of the Kur. The town is not, however, on the direct road to Tiflis. Its high rock is visible at a great distance. There are some interesting ruins in the neighbourhood. The road to Tiflis follows the river. Bare hills rise above the valley of the Kur, presenting a complete contrast to the richly-wooded provinces of Imeritia and Mingrelia. Beyond Gori the traveller will pass Mtzkettra [Mtskheta], the ancient residence of the kings of Georgia. It is now a ruin, still however containing 2 churches of some sanctity, in one of which the kings of Georgia were crowned, and where to the present day the bishops of Tiflis are consecrated. This church is said to have been erected in the 10th century, and it was laid waste by Timur [in the 14th century]. The road from here to Tiflis crosses a bridge, ascribed by tradition to Pompey. At a short distance from Tiflis the Kur, along which the road runs, is confined between high walls of rock in which are many artificial caverns. By travelling as courier without intermission, on the second day after quitting Kutais the traveller will reach [Tiflis]

TIFLIS. Pop. 61.000. The seat of government of the Caucasus, and the residence of the Imperial Lieutenant.

Hotels: Caucase, opposite the theatre (to be preferred, being kept by a Frenchman); Hotel d'ltalio; Hotel de Paris; and Hotel Débèque.

Conveyances: Excellent phaetons and drojkies may be hired by the hour.

History: Tiflis is supposed to have existed since the year 469, when the Georgian monarchs made it their residence. It derives its name from the mineral springs which it contains. What is now called Georgia was anciently known as Iberia, lying between Colchis and Albania. The capital of Iberia was Zelissa [?]. Iberia was not subjected to the Medes and Persians, and it is first mentioned in Western history when Pompey penetrated through it to Albania on the Caspian Sea. Georgia is bounded on the North by the pass of Vladi-Kavkas, anciently called the Pylae Caucasae. It formed part of the Roman empire from the time of Pompey, and was afterwards long the theatre of contest between the Lower [Byzantine] Empire and the Persians. From the 8th century or still earlier according to other records, dates the rise of the dynasty of the Bagratides, which flourished till the year 1801, when Georgia became a Russian province. The Bagratides were at that time the oldest reigning family in Europe, if not in the world. They asserted their descent from King David of Israel. Prince [Peter] Bagration, so distinguished in his struggle with the French [during the Napoleonic Wars], and who fell at Borodino [in 1812], was the descendant of the kings of Georgia. Theraclius [Heraclius/Erekle II], the last king of Georgia, was forced to quit his capital on the approach of Aga Mahomed Khan, the first Kajar ruler of Persia. At his death he left his kingdom under the protection of Russia, and it was shortly after incorporated with the Empire.

Topography, etc.: The town, which is picturesquely situated upon the banks of the King, with a distant view of Mount Kazbek and the mountain chain of the Caucasus, presents a mixture of Oriental and European types. It has a boulevard with shops on either side, and with the principal public buildings along it. There are a few other European streets, which are, however, unpaved, and therefore almost always either very dusty or very muddy. The principal building is a covered square bazaar, with rows of shops round it, and with the opera house in the centre. The theatre is a very handsome building when seen from the inside. The palace of the Imperial Lieutenant overlooks the boulevard. The houses of the chief civil and military authorities, scattered over the town, are handsomely built. The chief resort in the afternoon is the large public garden overlooking the Kur River, beyond the German colony, which is on the right bank of the river. The Kur is crossed within the town by 2 bridges, the principal of which was built by Prince Woronzoff, when Lieutenant of the Caucasus. A statue of the prince stands at one end of it.

Most of the foreigners resident in Tiflis are Germans and Frenchmen. The former, now Russian subjects, are descended from refugees who quitted Wurttemberg to enjoy religious liberty. The German colony is a model of neatness and prosperity. Many of the resident Frenchmen visit the Trans-Caucasian provinces every year to purchase silkworms.

 The variety of costumes to be seen at Tiflis is very great and interesting. The Circassian and Daghestan dresses are more particularly picturesque. The Persian population, which is very considerable, is confined to the lower part of the town, where whole streets and bazaars are filled with their houses and shops. The mineral baths are situated in the Persian quarter of the town. An excellent view of the whole city may be obtained from the Botanical Gardens above the town.

The climate of Tiflis is very mild and pleasant in winter, but in summer it is intensely hot. It is in fact deserted at that season for the watering places in the neighbourhood.

In the neighbourhood of Tiflis are the vineyards of Kahétie [Kakheti], which produce the wine of that name. It is of 2 descriptions, red and white, and is very much esteemed throughout TransCaucasia. It is not made with a view to being long preserved, and has therefore not been much exported, although travellers will find it at Moscow and St. Petersburg. As it is kept in leather bags, it has generally a slight flavour of leather. It is exceedingly cheap. Foreign wines, and indeed all foreign articles, are very dear in Georgia; English porter, for instance, being sold at the rate of 2 rs [roubles] a bottle.

From Tiflis travellers can either proceed by land via Ararat and Tabreez, or take the steamer at Baku or Lenkoran to Resht or Astrabad on the Caspian.

John Boit and Sam P. Blagden, Thirty Thousand Miles in "The Wanderer", 1903

In 1901, two New Yorkers, John Boit and Sam P. Blagden, embarked on a remarkable journey that will take them to Georgia and back. They sailed in "The Wanderer", a beautiful 480 tons yacht that built in 1897 by Ramage and Ferguson in Scotland. The yacht had excellent accommodations, with "two rooms on deck, a large dining-saloon below, nine state-rooms and four baths." The two men departed from New York on 11 December 1901 and first sailed to Florida. After exploring the Caribbean, they sailed to Europe, stopping at the Canaries and Morocco. They explored the Mediterranean Sea, passed through the Straits into the Black Sea and, in April 1902, reached the shores of Batumi.

Tuesday, April 8 [1902]

Our night's run to Batoum [Batumi] was delightfully smooth. We reached there about 6 A.M. and found many ships, for the most part oil-carriers, anchored around us; and inside of the big mole we could see dozens of large vessels.

After we had sent our passports ashore we tried to land, but were sent back to await the visit of the Custom officers, who arrived about 10 A.M., accompanied by the Chief of Customs for the District— a Russian General. After a little champagne they proved amenable to suggestions, and gave us much valuable advice as to our trip over the Georgian Military Road. Until now it had been impossible to get accurate information, and we were very glad to find that it was not too early to take the drive.

Then all ashore for luncheon, and to call on the Consul, Mr. Chambers, who was most hospitable, and who took us to the station where we engaged accommodations for the trip to-night. The town is very new and unattractive, not unlike a modern oil town in America. The Consul told us that, with the exception of the "Namouna," the "Wanderer" is the first yacht that has visited Batoum in seventeen years.

We went ashore about 10.30 P.M., and took the 11.15 P.M. train for Tiflis. Mr. Chambers was down to see us off, and he instructed the Russian porter how to take care of us. We found the Russian sleeping carriages very comfortable. Travelers must, however, themselves provide bedding and towels.

Wednesday, April 9

[We] were called about daylight to see the scenery, which is certainly wonderful. Reached Tiflis about 11.30 A.M., after many stops for "tchai," or tea. Drove to the hotel which Mr. Chambers had recommended, and were told that there were no rooms. We asked about other hotels, and were informed there were no rooms to be had in the entire city. Luckily, however, the Commodore asked if these rooms were engaged for the German steamer, adding that we expected to leave before its arrival. The hotel people then said we could have all the rooms we desired.

Although Tiflis is an attractive place, it is in many ways disappointing, as the greater part is but eighty years old, and what remains of the ancient city is across the river. The hotel was remarkably pleasant. On one side it looks out on a quaint street with a handsome plaza, and the view from the rear takes in the swift running river. After a delicious luncheon we started out to visit the bazaars. Tiflis is famous for its Persian population, and the furs and enameled work that they bring. We all purchased large quantities of furs.

In the afternoon we arranged about taking the drive over the Dariel Pass to Vladikafkaz, and we engaged Rustum, as dragoman, who apparently has been the guide and friend of every one from Norman down. We find it is better to split up the party, as the accommodations would not be good for a large party.

Thursday, April 10

All hands wandering around the town buying furs and silverware. We lunch at 12 o'clock, as Mrs. Robinson and the Commodore are to start at 1 P.M. over the Georgian Road, and the rest of the party leave at daylight to-morrow morning. At 12.30 we started with four horses abreast, a la Russe. After a little time spent in packing the luggage the driver arranges himself on the box in his many robes, and with the cracking of whips and cheers from the rest of the party, we begin our drive. The horses are fresh, and soon we swing out of the street on to the winding road, which runs along by farms and villages, with here and there an orchard in full bloom. We meet many farm wagons coming up to town with their products, and men and women on their way to work. It is hot, and the glare is disagreeable. But we can see the mountains ahead of us, and know that as soon as we begin the ascent we shall be more comfortable.

We cross the railroad track as we draw near Mtzkhete [Mtskheta], and see it no more until our journey's end. There is an old church here which dates back many centuries to the time when Tiflis was the capital of Georgia. We do the first stage in an hour and fifteen minutes, covering twenty and a half versts, equal to about fourteen miles. After a stop of about five minutes to change horses and have a cup of tea, we are off again, our next stop being Tsilkane, which we reach in an hour and ten minutes; having gone on this stretch fourteen and a half versts and being now eighteen hundred feet above the sea.

Then on again, speedily putting versts behind us, we arrive at Douchete [Dusheti] in an hour and twenty-five minutes, having traveled seventeen versts and three quarters, and are now twenty-nine hundred feet high. We again have tea, and shortly after are off for Ananour [Ananuri], which we reach after a very quick run, wholly down hill, with only two horses.

It seems more due to Providence than to our driver that we keep to the road, as we swing down and around corners on the drive to Ananour, which is twenty-three hundred feet above the sea, and where we are to spend the night. The faithful Vincent, our dragoman, sees that we get a very fair dinner and that our beds are comfortable. Shortly after dinner it began to rain, and there was a wonderful thunderstorm.

Friday, April 11

We start at 8 A.M. on a beautiful clear, sunny day. The scenery has been very much like that of the earlier stages of the drive—beautiful, picturesque, and cultivated. But when we leave Ananour and begin our climb to the next stop at Pasananour [Pasanauri], which is three thousand six hundred feet above the sea, the blossoms of flowers give place to hardier shrubs, while the mountain-walls close in, and here and there we see patches of snow high up on the rocky peaks.

As we climb up and up to Mlet [Mleta] the country grows wilder and wilder; and from the shelving rock, along one side of which we ascended, we see the river like a silver band far below us at the bottom of the rocky gorge. The snow, too, which at first lay only near the mountain-tops, was now spread far down the sides of the cliffs.

When we reached Mlet we found ourselves really in the snow-land, for it was all about the houses, the roadside, etc. Here we had a light lunch and changed horses again, and soon were off. The road is marvelous, with a moderate grade, and its general condition and character well worthy of being copied by an American park.

We now started on a sharp ascent. The road climbs some three thousand feet between here and the next station, Gaudaour [Gudauri]. The sun was bright, and although we passed several huge snow-drifts towering far above us, we did not find the cold as severe as we had expected. Many gangs of men were at work clearing the road, and digging the snow at the sides where it rose in places over fifty feet in height, the road winding like a narrow strip of black between two sheer white walls. The road had been open for the season only during three days.

At Gaudaour we changed horses, and then on, climbing for a short time longer until at last we topped the ridge and saw the cross high above us on a cliff. The cross was put there to mark the confines of Holy Russia; and here we passed from Asia into Europe. We had taken an extra man on the carriage from Gaudaour, and the two outside horses were here uncoupled to be taken back by him, while we started down the steep descent with only a pair. The descent was at a rattling pace, and one did not care to think what would happen if one of the horses fell as we swung around the corner of one of the many zigzags. From time to time, as we galloped along, we dashed from the brilliant sunshine blazing on the snow into the damp darkness of a tunnel or snowshed. One of these, the longest, is over a mile in length, and was lighted by lamps from the roof.

At Kobi, which we reached very quickly, we changed horses again, and then started for Kasbek, where we are to spend the night. The road was not quite so much of an incline, and we had four horses again, which were so harnessed as to be well-nigh uncontrollable by the driver. We reached Kasbek shortly before dark, and spent the night there. The view of the mountain from the hotel is superb. It was hard to realize that this mountain, which seemed so near, is three thousand feet higher than Mount Blanc. 

Saturday, April 12

We had a comfortable night, and at 8 A.M. started on what is really the grandest and most impressive part of the ride. We had gradually left the snow on the way from Kasbek, and for some time before reaching Lars had been winding down the side of the gorge of the Terek, which one hears rushing and roaring over its rocky bed far below. The mountains, dull brown and black, soon rose towering immediately overhead, rent with great gashes and gorges, nearly all of which show traces of land-slides. Some years ago a land-slide tore away parts of the road itself, rendering it impassable for ten years.

These walls and serrated cliffs shut us in as far as Lars, closing in from time to time until all we could see was the blue of the sky, stretching like a ribbon far above us. This is the celebrated Pass of Dariel. At one place where the defile was specially narrow we passed a small fortress, at which is stationed a post of Cossacks. Behind this fort, aloft on a pinnacle of rock, are the ruins of an old castle, which is said to have been built by Tamara, once the Queen of these parts. The legend says that she tempted travelers to visit her by tales of her great beauty, only to hurl them from the cliffs to the river below when they had served her purpose.

At Lars we changed horses again. We were in the same gorge for some time after leaving, and the sun being overhead changes the lines and shades of the scene. [...] It was [...] a never-to-be-forgotten and awe-inspiring sight. But one breathed freer as the valley opened out a little on nearing Balta. Here we changed horses again, and, instead of the two that we had from Lars to Balta, we put to four and started on our last stage.

The bare rocky walls gave place now to great rolling hills with shrubs and trees; and as they opened out wide, we saw in the soft light fields and farms with their cattle, and soon the houses of Vladikafkaz came in sight, and in about a quarter of an hour we rattled over the pavements. We found a good hotel and had an excellent luncheon, leaving about 4 P.m. by train for Novorossisk. We had to change cars several times, and were much disturbed, as we did not have too much confidence in the Russian of our dragoman. We found the sleeping carriage most comfortable, and the journey a very pleasant one....

[The travelers continued their journey to Crimea where they got back onto their yacht and resumed their journey.]

View on Batumi, 1855

HAMILTON, Cospatrick Baillie. A Series of Views in the Mediterranean, Grecian Archipelago, Bosphorus and the Black Sea, from Sketches made during a Tour in 1855 & 1856, London, Day & Son, 1857.

Charles Gordon, Travels, sport, and politics in the east of Europe (1887)

Charles Gordon, 11th Marquess of Huntly (1847 – 1937) was a Scottish Liberal politician. In 1870 he was appointed a Lord-in-Waiting (government whip in the House of Lords) in the first administration of Prime Minister William  Gladstone, and later served as Captain of the Honourable Corps of Gentlemen-at-Arms in Gladstone's second administration. Huntly was also Lord Rector of the University of Aberdeen between 1890 and 1896. 

The Marquess of Huntly traveled through the Ottoman Empire in the summer of 1880, just two years after the Russo-Ottoman War of 1877-1878. In mid-July 1880, he crossed the Black Sea to visit the Crimean peninsula in the Russian Empire and then sailed to Batumi in Georgia.

WHEN the Treaty of Berlin was being framed, people were startled to hear of Batoum, that it was to be ceded to Russia, but made a free port; a triumph of Lord Beaconsfield's [British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli] policy! Curiosity to see the place took us thither, over 300 miles nearly due south from Theodosia. We shipped in the S.S. Poushkin, a splendid new vessel, with marble-sided saloons and beautiful fittings, built at Newcastle for the Russian Company, leaving Theodosia at 7.30 in the morning, arriving at our destination at 4 p.m. the next day. 

In the south-easternmost corner of the Black Sea, on a projecting tongue of low land, formed perhaps by debris from the River Tchoruk, which  flows into the sea a few miles to the southward, is the little town of Batoum. The land stretches towards the north-east from the foot of hills a mile distant. It suddenly terminates, and the bay dips round to the east till the cliffs are reached. The entrance round the head of the point is easy; the water is deep close into the shore. The largest ships can enter in all weathers and at all seasons; an important matter, as nearly all the Euxine ports except this one and Sevastopol are closed by ice in winter. The westerly gales are the only ones feared on this coast, and from them the harbour is completely protected. The anchorage is good, and ships can lie within a cable's length of the shore. But Lord Beaconsfield was right when he said there was room for only a limited number of ships. By dredging the bay on the south-east side, however, equally good harbour accommodation to an unlimited extent can be got, and a channel inland could be made for docks by the natural cut of an old river bed with great ease, and at little cost. The orders sent to the Russian forces in the district just before the peace, were to take Batoum at all hazards. Three days before the 

conclusion of the war, the attempt was made, but failed. Three thousand five hundred Russians were buried opposite to the point (visible a few miles up the coast) after that assault, and although the numbers have never transpired, it is said thirty thousand perished altogether in the various attacks on Batoum. Through a river of blood, backed by admirable diplomacy, they have gained the only port the only position worth having, on this side of the Black Sea. What will they do with it ? 

The first act, of course, with the Russians has been to arm it. A large fort commanding the entrance at the point of the headland, which was made for the Turks by French engineers in 1863, has been put into thorough order, only requiring guns (ready at the artillery stores just outside the cordon, not a mile away) to be placed in position. The barracks inside the fort are filled with soldiers; the hills, commanding completely the harbour and town, are being entrenched with parks of artillery; a railway to join the line from Batoum to Poti and Tiflis is nearly finished; and large quantities of military stores are collected at a depot a few miles up the coast. 

The town itself is situated on a dry shingly beach. Between it and the hills is a dull, dreary swamp; and the flat inside the cordon, which is marked by a track circling the foot of the hills, contains about a thousand acres. Everything is allowed free into the town; but what a difference on going out ! The minutest inspection of baggage is insisted upon at the port, or in passing the cordon, and very heavy dues are charged. The fact is Batoum is nothing more than a large "bonded store," and the practical usefulness of its "free port" is of no account. When the natives first heard of the free port they flocked into the town, found articles cheap, but were charged such taxes on reaching the cordon as made the prices higher than before. They did not modify their anathemas on the Russians! Ships should always be allowed free into the port, but there appears to be no advantage to any one (except the Russian Government) in the present regulations. Granted that articles are cheaper to people residing in Batoum, who would or will live there ? It is difficult to drain, excessively dirty, and noted as one of the worst spots for fever in all these regions celebrated for that pestilence. With the hills so close a better site for the town will surely be found, and then it will be outside the free port ! 

Batoum is a rainy place, and the country in the vicinity very fertile. The climate is healthy in the hills, but cannot be worse in the town itself. The first thing we met in the streets was a funeral, and the hospitals are full to overflowing. This is not surprising after seeing the Russian soldiers in the town, mere boys, badly clad and worse fed. A citizen in the military employ of the Tsar only gets coarse brown bread at eleven in the morning, and greasy vegetable broth, with brown bread again, for his dinner. The most ordinary precautions are not taken to prevent him from catching fever; he is allowed to sleep (often outside his tent) on the damp ground, and he starts for parade in the morning without any food or stimulant. It is no wonder that the mortality here amongst the soldiers has been frightful. 

There are some quaint old Turkish houses, mostly deserted and ruinous, in the town, and a picturesque octagon-shaped mosque with an uncommonly good minaret in the open square behind the fort. This mosque was built by the Sultana Valideh, the mother of the Sultan Abdul Mejid, called by the Turks " The Great Sultan." The Russians have a curious law that the municipality of any place may take your land for any improvement, streets, etc., provided you have not erected buildings upon it. When Batoum became Russian the bazaars which came down to the sea-shore in the centre of the fort were objected to; but the difficulty was how to get rid of them with this law in existence. A fire 

occurred not accidentally it is said and no attempt was made to put it out until two-thirds of the bazaars were demolished! The blackened ruins only are to be seen, and a new street is being made, the Government having claimed the ground! 

The country of Lazistan, or Lazica, was peopled by a race of Mussulmans; it extended originally from the south of Trebizond considerably to the north of Poti, joining there the district of Apcasia. [Abkhazia]. The Lazes will have to remain as Russian subjects or migrate to Turkish dominions perhaps out of the frying-pan into the fire, as I heard of cases where the Turks were trying to raise the State taxes (their system of collecting rents, as all are tenants under the Crown) five years in advance. But still, with the prospect of ill-usage there, the natives are only waiting to harvest and dispose of their crops of maize to depart to Turkey. If Russia had given the natives ten years, with exemption from military service, to remain, or meanwhile to part with their holdings, and at the end of that time, 

if stopping, to become Russian subjects, they would, with this option, have probably all continued in the country ; but, alas ! a different course of action has been followed. The three years given by the Treaty of Berlin for the Turks either to remove from the territory acquired by Russia or to become subjects of the Tsar expire in February next. The authorities have checkmated the wretched people, and they are in an awkward position for themselves. They loathe the idea of becoming Russian subjects, liable for enlistment in the army, and will certainly leave the country ; but every difficulty is placed in their way of disposing of their farms and property. Strangers are not allowed to buy land from them, and although some people have purchased houses in Batoum, even Russian subjects are now prevented from buying land in the vicinity outside the cordon. Count S., whose farm I visited, has purchased two or three places, but the Government refuse to ratify the bargains, and he will not be able to retain the property. It really seems as if the Russians desire to force the people to go without getting payment for their land, or to remain as their subjects and tenants under the Government, which it is impossible to think they will do. 

The case of the Apcasians is very hard. Some sixteen or seventeen years ago a number of them, after a revolt in their country to the northward of Poti, left Russian territory and migrated to Turkish. They were given land in the valleys near Batoum, on the condition that if they farmed the places allotted (subject to certain dues) they would become their absolute property at the end of twenty years. The Russians will not recognize this agreement, and tell these settlers to shift again, or if they remain, they must pay rent at valuation for their holdings. The Apcasians and Lazes had deputed one man at each of their settlements to negotiate with a purchaser, and dispose of their places in one lot, if possible; buyers would have been found in abundance, but the transactions are stopped by the refusal 

of the Russian powers to recognise the sales. This seems to be straining with unusual severity the fortune of war against these poor people. Why has a different plan been adopted here to that pursued in the Crimea in the last century ? Was Catherine the Great a more lenient monarch than the present Tsar ? Is Russia less of a civilizing power now than she was a hundred years ago ? It is openly said that these districts will be parcelled off and allotted to various officials by the Government; but where will the labourers, the tillers of the soil, be ? Already forty thousand Lazes and Apcasians have left this part of the country, and thousands are now preparing to go. Who will replace them ? The Russian is a ridiculous colonist, and if ever so good a one, he will not come here. He has plenty of land and occupation at home. There is, however, an exception. A sect of dissenters from the orthodox church are called the Molokans. They object to the display of pictures and "tawdry" in the churches, and decline to use the liturgy. In fact, they resemble the Presbyterians. They hold peculiar views on marriage vows, and practise divorce from the matrimonial state, which, however, rarely occurs. They are scrupulously clean and sober in their habits, and are very religious and quiet people. Banished from Russia proper, the Government gave them places in various parts near the Caspian Sea to settle at, whence a small colony migrated lately to a swamp just outside the town of Batoum. Their wooden huts, raised about three feet from the ground on piles, are placed in a most unhealthy situation, but everything about them looks neat and tidy. They are employed mostly as labourers, no land having been given to them yet. If you meet one he is instantly recognised from his superior appearance to the ordinary Russ. The Molokans were turned out of Russia in the reign of Alexander I., and may now return if they like; they make good settlers, and it is a pity they are not more numerous. How lamentable the policy of Russia is ! She forces away the labouring population without the prospect of replacing it. Instead of conciliating and retaining the races under her government, she widens the differences between them and embitters the hatred of the Mussulmans. The blight of a military despotism follows her, and falls on the luckless land she governs ! 

The friend I expected to meet in Batoum had been unfortunately called away, but he left an excellent substitute in Mr. K., who was most energetic in showing a brother Englishman everything he could. The only carriage to be found was a clumsy "tarantass," very like an Irish car, but longer, and placed on four small wheels. In appearance a double sofa; its only good quality the difficulty of upsetting it. This machine, the property of the General (who was out on a holiday), Mr. K. borrowed from the aide-de-camp. We started, a party of four, following the so-called road (an earthen track abounding in mud-pockets, in which we repeatedly stuck), which forms the boundary of the free port of Batoum. A mile from the town are some newly-built barracks, empty and useless, the ground-floors being under 

water. The soldiers had been removed from them, and are now under canvas and twig huts in the port at Batoum. It seems impossible to understand why such deliberate waste in building dwelling-places in such a position should have been permitted. Crossing a small river, which is the eastern boundary of the flat, the foot of the hills is reached. Large barracks and artillery stores have been built here, and more are in the course of erection ; a branch railway from the main line to Tiflis runs through the cantonments, bisecting them and the artillery sheds. We walked up a side valley about a mile, to call on an Apcasian farmer known to Mr. K., the path leading us through thickets of tropical shrubs, rhododendrons, and azaleas, trees entwined with clematis and other creepers, patches of maize of great height here and there, showing the fertility of the soil, and not a habitation within sight till, after ascending a steep " brae-side," we suddenly came upon the hut, the farmer and his servant standing in the verandah ready to receive us. They had seen us coming, though concealed from our view. After shaking hands all round, we were invited to seat ourselves on a couch in the verandah, and then could see what a good look-out the place had, though apparently completely screened by foliage. Snug little huts appeared peeping out among fields of maize on the opposite hillside, the owners calling to one another announcing our arrival, and soon several men came up to see "the English." The farmer, a tall, well-built man of middle age, sent his servant to fetch water from a spring close by, and presented each of us with a cucumber. He entered into a lively conversation, which, however, on being interpreted, was largely an interchange of compliments. The two ladies of our party were invited inside the house to see his wife, and after formal salaams, we were conducted by another more direct path to the foot of the hill where the 

Apcasian bade us good-bye, expressing himself highly honoured by our call. None of the natives we saw here were armed, but all those met with away from their homes were indeed fully provided with weapons for any emergency; a Lazi regularly carries two daggers in his girdle, often a revolver hung in a sheath by his right side, and always a rifle slung across his shoulders, his hand grasping the butt as if ready for immediate action. Their independent gait accords well with the reputation these tribes have for fearlessness and independence, perhaps in many instances for lawlessness, but Mr. K. declares that no prospect of plunder would induce them knowingly to attack an Englishman. Rejoining our "tarantass " we drove by the roughest of bullock roads up another valley called "Gordak," as far as we could get, nearly two miles, and then walked another mile to a farm lately bought by Count S., and lunched with appetite, the air being oppressively "muggy" and tiring. This farm keeps numbers of bees. We inspected the hives, which are made out of a block of wood three to four feet long and eighteen inches in diameter; a log of this size is cut from a tree and sawn in half, then both sides are scooped out leaving one base, the two halves are joined together, a board with a few holes for the bees is nailed to the front, and the hive is complete. 

On the second morning of our visit to Batoum we had arranged another drive into the country with Mr. K. He arrived at the time appointed with a message from the " chef de police " that he could be in no way responsible for our safety, and that it was very dangerous to make expeditions into the interior. After a good laugh at this, I went to call on the Governor. He received me most courteously, and talked about the future of Batoum, and what improvements were to be made. I ventured to express an earnest hope that the Russians would carry out their designs, so as to develop so fine a country which was blessed with such a harbour. I may here remark that our visit had caused great excitement amongst the authorities at Batoum; Mr. K. had been inundated with questions as to our reasons for coming, what we intended to do, etc. ? I did my best to calm the Governor's susceptibility; every Russian official on the frontiers seems to think you have some object inimical to his country when an Englishman visits it. Undismayed by the policeman's warnings, and preferring to be guided by Mr. K.'s judgment, we started at twelve in our "tarantass " as before, but with another pair of ponies and a worse coachman, who seemed to delight in tormenting and ill-treating the beasts he drove, while he jolted us over every rough place we came to, until violent expostulation made him more merciful to them and to us. 

Passing through the town, we traversed the road to the north-east, skirting the bay, alongside of the railway, which is being made to join the Poti and Tiflis line. The beautifully wooded hills are close to the shore, and seem to form an impenetrable jungle, but here and there the glimpse of the eave of a Lazi's hut is caught amidst a mass of green. On our right we passed a prominent hillock with some ruins on the top, said to be one of the many burying places of the Georgian Queen Thamar, and now surmounted by a rude structure for containing dynamite; nearly opposite to it is an old earthwork fortification of the Turks ; after driving about four miles we reached the foot of a narrow valley, where we descended, and walked through a field of magnificent maize to a spring noted, said our cicerone, for its coolness. We found two natives reclining by its side under the shade of the alder trees around, but they shifted to give us room, and we were soon enjoying our luncheon in this delightfully shady spot, for the sun had been most oppressive. We were seated barely a quarter of an hour when four Lazes, fully armed and accoutred, arrived. The leading one advanced quickly and placed a large 

handkerchief full of pears on the ground between Mr. K. and myself. Then they all seated themselves behind us. Mr. K. did not at first recognise the donor, but, on looking round again, saluted the man, who was delighted to see him. The Lazi was a small farmer some distance up the valley, and it was most curious how he could have learned that we were there. 

Although we passed several natives on the road, we had not stopped on the way, and no one knew of our intended visit. Our companion Mr. K. declared that the natives knew the movements of every one, and again expressed his belief in the safety of any Englishman, if known to be such, in these districts. We ate some of the pears, and gave some bread and the remnants of our luncheon to our neighbours, who wrapped them carefully away. They took immense interest in the packing of our "Barrett's" lunch basket, uttering exclamations of wonder from time to time. I was then introduced as an Englishman, at which they nodded and smiled. We examined their arms ; one had a loaded gun, the barrel illuminated with " London" in gilt capital letters; and another had the Turkish Crimean medal, which, he explained, was given to him for services rendered in the commissariat department; he had not been in the regular army, but was at Sevastopol. At the mention of this word there was a twinkle in every eye, as if each would have liked to play a part in another such sad drama. 

We took leave of our friends after the exchange of grave and courtly salutations, it being evident our visit had given them pleasure, and returning to Batoum, called on Admiral and Mrs. G., who threw a damper on our hopes of leaving for Poti the next morning, prophesying wind and storm, the least amount of which pre- vents even flat-bottomed steamers from crossing the bar at Poti. The admiral is in command of the seaport of Batoum, and evidently, with his geniality and good sense, is the right man in the right place. He showed us over the general's gardens (that functionary being absent on leave). All sorts of our hothouse plants were growing in profusion, and while extolling the botanical 

beauties, the admiral heartily abused Batoum, its bad houses, and bad sanitary arrangements. But there are treasures in the little town. Two Frenchmen (brothers) keep the small Hotel de France, where we stopped. Unpretending, but clean, everything is nicely done throughout the house, and what a pleasure it is to eat a French dish after the greasy Russian messes ! Long may Messrs. C. maintain their establishment and excellent cuisine ! This is the wish of all residents in, and visitors to Batoum. 

Having gone on board the steamer at 8.30 p.m., supposed to start at midnight, we found the ship full of people; porters bringing baggage on board, men singing, children screaming, and the rain pattering down, made sleep impossible. 

We did not start from Batoum until 6 a.m., and arrived off Poti about 9 a.m., the majority of the passengers on board wet through, and the decks of the miserable steamer, the Rion, crowded with wretched mortals, Turks, Georgians, Armenians, Greeks, and Russians, in the same plight. Thanks to the generous courtesy of a gentleman (who expressed a confident opinion that if he had been in England we should have done the same thing for him), we had the only cabin on board, which he had secured. Poti is at the mouth of the River Rion, and barely four feet of water covers the bar ; the least roughness of the sea prevents vessels from crossing. The weather was calm, but there was a considerable " swell " on, so we had to wait outside for a smaller steamer. She came at last, sticking for a minute or two on the bar, but soon got off, and the swell being too great for the steamers to transfer their cargo and passengers in the open roadstead, both had to steam about a mile northwards to the new harbour of Poti. The vexation of the delay was compensated by the sight of this work, on which several hundred thousand pounds have already been thrown away. The design is simply two large semicircular breakwaters starting a quarter of a mile apart, at right angles from the straight shore, nearly three-quarters of a mile in length, and leaving an entrance about 200 yards wide. The breakwaters are formed of large con- crete blocks, the foundations being wooden piles. The sides are bulged and appear to be in a dangerous condition. A Russian gentleman naively remarked to me that bad wood had been used at first ! I think no one but a Russian engineer or contractor would have dreamt of using wood at all. Another person observed that some one had made plenty of money out of Poti harbour, and I could agree with him ! Now the engineers are trying to break the force of the sea by tipping blocks of concrete over the sides of the breakwaters, both ends of which are washed away. If they succeed in securing the sea walls, the harbour will have to be dredged out, at present there being only ten or twelve feet of water at the entrance, and the way the harbour is set, right in the channel, almost designed to catch the silt from the River Rion, will make it most difficult to keep open. However, the place answered our purpose, for we were able, in calm water, to pack ourselves and baggage like sandwiches on the smaller steamer, which took us safely over the bar, after several hitches and sticks, into the river. 

After seeing Poti and the impossibilities of the port, one cannot wonder at the desire of the Russians to obtain Batoum. Poti is situated about a mile up the river, a far-stretching alluvial swamp surrounding it ; most people give the place a bad name for fever, but, luckily, there are some who defend its reputation. Our consul, Mr. Gardner, to whose kind attention we were much indebted, will not hear it depreciated, but scouts the charge of unhealthiness, believes the harbour will yet be made a good one, nor dreads the rivalry of Batoum. That the mouth of the Rion was at one time easy of access is undoubted ; some think the retrogression of the waters of the Black Sea has altered the harbour, and certainly their level has fallen considerably in the course of many centuries. These changes may be due to comparatively recent volcanic disturbances in the Crimean peninsula, which is supposed by geologists to have been raised by igneous action; possibly to those earthquakes, which occurred in the neighbourhood of the Euxine four hundred years ago, simultaneously with the eruptions at Alupka and elsewhere, and destroyed Yalta and other towns in the district. 

For it must have been different wnen Jason and his companions in the Argo entered the river, the celebrated Phasis of those ages, in search of the Golden Fleece. Many Persian monarchs, notably Chosroes, formed fleets of ships on the Phasis wherewith to harry the trade of the Euxine ; in the second century Arrian relates that the mouth was strongly fortified " for the protection of all who sailed on the river ; " as late as the sixteenth century the Turks appear to have found the harbour easy of access, and largely used it. Notwithstanding the present drawbacks the trade of Poti is considerable, the railway connecting it with Kutais and Tiflis having done much to develop it, while the river floats down the products of the Caucasian forests, principally box, walnut, and holly, which trees flourish on the western slopes, and are largely exported to Marseilles and other ports for upholstery work. 

About seven hours' steam to the northward of Poti is the town and harbour of Soukhum-Kaleh, the chief place in the country of Abhase (more often called Apcasia). The tribes residing in the vicinity have given the Russians much trouble, retreating to their mountain fastnesses whenever attacked, and maintaining, until lately, a constant warfare. They are a wild and treacherous race, ready to take any one's life for the plunder of a few roubles. The country is rich with luxuriant vegetation, its exports of box and walnut wood being very considerable. Soukhum is the site of the ancient city of Dioscurias, named after the Dioscuri, Castor and Pollux, by Amphitus and Telchius, their charioteers, who are supposed to have founded it. It is said that Dioscurias was the common market for the nations living in the eastern countries beyond the Euxine, and that seventy nations, all speaking different languages from living dispersed without intercourse, assembled here for the purpose of buying salt imported from Southern Russia. Here, too, in later ages, the Genoese did a thriving but cruel trade, bartering salt for Circassian slaves to be delivered in the Turkish and Egyptian markets. In the recent war between Turkey and Russia the Turks sent an expedition against Soukhum- Kaleh, and took it ; their object being to raise the tribes in the rear of the Russian forces. They spread reports that sons of Schamyl (the great Circassian leader) were with them, and though they effected a landing, giving their antagonists much trouble, the undertaking, if well planned, seems to have been badly carried out, and failed. The sensation it caused, and the seeming readiness on the part of the tribes to rise all over the Caucasus, appear (from their manner of referring to the subject) to have made a deep impression on the Russian authorities. 

Some splendid timber trees of beech, Spanish chestnut, and walnut filled this valley, and each farm was surrounded by fruit (apple, pear, peach, quince, and fig) trees, showing the capabilities of the soil. Another jolting ride on the " tarantass " brought us back to Batoum by sundown. 

Edward Backhouse Eastwick, Journal of a Diplomate's Three Years' Residence in Persia (1864) - Part 1

Edward Backhouse Eastwick (1814 – 1883) was a British orientalist, diplomat and Member of Parliament. Born into an Anglo-Indian family, he was educated at Charterhouse and at Merton College, Oxford. He joined the Bombay infantry in 1836, but, in light of his knowledge of multiple languages (including Persian and Sindhi), was later moved to a diplomatic service. In 1845 he was appointed professor of Hindustani at Haileybury College and spent the next fifteen years pursuing an academic career, translating Persian and Indian texts. In 1860 he returned to diplomatic service and became a secretary to the British Legation in Tehran. He travelled widely over the next three years, eventually publishing The Journal of a Diplomate's Three Years' Residence in Persia. In 1866 he became private secretary to the secretary of state for India, the future Marquess of Salisbury, and in 1867, was sent on a government mission to Venezuela, later publishing "Sketches of Life in a South American Republic". From 1868 to 1874 he was Member of the British Parliament. He died at Ventnor, Isle of Wight, on 16 July 1883.

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.

Ethel Snowden, A Political Pilgrim in Europe" (1921) - Part 1

Ethel Snowden (1881 – 1951) was a British socialist and human rights activist. Born Ethel Annakin, she married the prominent Labour Party politician and Chancellor of the Exchequer Philip Snowden and rose up the social scale. She was involved in the Fabian Society and the Independent Labour Party, and was a vocal campaigners for women's suffrage before the First World War. In 1918-1919, she visited the Bolshevik Russia and the newly independent Georgia, and published her reminisced of both trips in separate books. After the visit to Russia, she publicly condemned Bolshevism, which her unpopular with the left within the Labour movement. On the other hand, trip to the Menshevik Georgia - Snowden was part of a delegation sent by the Second International to observe development in Georgia - left very pleasant impressions that she later recounted in her book "A Political Pilgrim in Europe" (1921).

[After recounting repression and fear among common peaople in Russia, Snowden notes that] in Georgia it was different. The experience in Batoum [Batumi] was the same everywhere. There was no compulsion to meet us. The people came because they wanted to come. They moved freely amongst us, without restraint of speech or manner, laughing, shouting, singing. The brown-eyed children climbed into our laps. They shyly played with our watches or examined our clothes. In all those merry faces turned up at us on the balcony I saw not one look of bitterness, no tightening of thin lips, no burning hate in the eyes. One jolly giant, whose curly grey-black hair waved a head's breadth above the crowd, led the cheering, which was caught up by the crowd in unmistakable sincerity. They ran by the side of our carriages, flinging red roses into them and blowing kisses to us as we gathered up the roses and pinned them to our coats as the red emblem of international solidarity.

We spent a pleasant afternoon in the Botanical Gardens [in Batumi], rich with every kind of tropical and semi-tropical fruit. The head gardener boasted with joyous pride the possession of sixty different varieties of orange. There they hung, yellow and tempting. Visions of Southern California surged up, the blue Pacific at San Diego, and the big glowing orange broken off the tree, ripe and delicious, for the daily breakfast. From the figs and grapes, the lemons and bananas of these gardens, we proceeded to the tea plantations and the bamboo woods, and saw two infant industries developing themselves, the one under the care of a skilled Japanese. Georgia's industry needs development on modern lines, with modern machinery and by modern methods. At present production is slow and old fashioned. A common sight on a Georgian landscape is a wooden plough, hand guided, drawn by eight pair of stout oxen. This is mediaeval.

In the evening we were entertained by the Batoum Municipality to a dinner on the enclosed veranda of a large public ballroom. A Georgian dinner is a thing to be remembered, and this, the first of many, lingers pleasantly in the mind. Flowers and climbing plants adorned the glass-covered veranda on the outside, palms and flowering trees decorated and scented it within. The long table accommodated two hundred guests. At one end of the room a choir sang songs, and an orchestra made merry music whilst we ate. Course followed course of the most deliciously cooked food. Enormous epergnes, filled with glowing peaches of incredible size and huge black grapes, adorned the table at frequent intervals of space. There were sparkling wines of rich vintage and various colours, exquisite in the soft light from the shaded lamps. This dinner could not have been surpassed for the completeness of its appointments by the most expensive mountain hotel in America. Torrents of summer rain and vivid flashes of lightning added to the sense of comfort and jollity within.

The speeches at a Georgian banquet are delivered between the courses. After the speeches, before the speeches, furtively during the speeches, the toasts are called. Never in the world was there anything like this mad passion for toasting one another. Every guest is toasted at least once. The health of every lady is drunk at least ten times! If the wine does not give out, absent friends and popular causes, the cook in the kitchen and the butler in the pantry supply excellent excuses for a further riot of toasting. Conversation waxes louder and more excited with every glass. Eyes begin to shine with the moving spirit of alcohol. Strange stories of gallant adventure are told aloud. Wild gestures are flung about. Out of the storm of confused tongues and frantic gesticulations, from the far end of the table comes a faint voice softly singing a slow song. Others take up the strain. In less than two minutes the entire table is singing, each person roaring his accompaniment at the very pitch of his voice. This song sounds like a Scottish psalm tune, but it is the Georgian equivalent to " He's a jolly good fellow." It is very impressive ... Perhaps twenty times in one evening this song is started and taken up by the company. Each time it is a compliment directed at some special guest, and concludes with the clinking of glasses and a roar of cheers for the honoured one, who bows his appreciation of the kindly courtesy.

A distinguished general of the ancien regime was my vis-a-vis. He delicately complimented me upon the few words those gallant Georgians would have me say, and afterwards sent to Tiflis a large basket of delicious red roses for the ladies of our party. On my right sat several young nobles in the handsome native costume. They wore long grey coats, full skirted and with belts at the waist. Underneath was a high-necked blouse, buttoned at the front. Each side of the coat was ornamented at the breast with a row of pockets for single cartridges. Ornamental cartridge-cases were fitted into these pockets. The round hats were of white astrakhan, and they wore soft leather Russian boots which came high in the leg and were seamless and unlaced. Each carried a dagger at his side, with richly chased silver handle. When the spirits of the company had risen sufficiently high, two of these young princes rose and danced a graceful Georgian dance down the whole length of the corridor and back on the other side. The guests accompanied with a monotonous clap, humming softly a suitable melody. One arm held gracefully above the head, the left hand on the hip, the feet moving intricately and delicately, the body swaying ever so slightly from the hips and seeming to float upon the polished surface of the floor, there is nothing that dance resembled so much as a sailing ship on a placid lake gently moved by a soft wind.

The absence of rancour, the atmosphere of friendliness, the fellowship and intimacy of it all, charmed us, and we left for the night train and Tiflis with regret at having to part so soon with these new friends.

The special train had been a royal train. It was replete with every comfort. There were bathrooms even, and an excellent kitchen. The food department was in the hands of a Russian family, a widowed mother and three children. They were a family of good birth whose fallen fortunes had been relieved in this way by the Social Democrats as a reward for saving the life of the President, always in danger from the violent extremists of both sorts. The mother was a stout, comfortable body, and the girls beautiful creatures of the Slavonic type.

We were received in the waiting room at Tiflis by the President, M. Jordania, and his suite. The floor was carpeted with rich and costly rugs. On the walls hung portraits of Karl Marx and the principal Georgian Socialists. An orderly crowd waited outside and cheered us as we left for our quarters in the residence of the departed American Commissioner.

Our first business in Tiflis was to attend the special session of Parliament called in our honour, to hear a speech of welcome from each of the eight political parties represented in that Parliament. The Georgian Parliament is elected on a franchise which gives every man and woman of twenty the vote. At the last election, which was conducted on a basis of strictest proportional representation, 102 Social Democrats were elected out of a total of 130. The nationalities represented by this 130 are six, and there are five women in the House. The secretary to the Speaker is also a woman, and a very able one. Distinctions of sex do not exist in Georgian politics or in Georgian industry. Equal pay for equal work is the ruling economic dictum. For the purposes of an election the whole country, with a population of about 4,000,000, is one constituency. As a natural corollary of this the districts have almost unlimited powers of self-government. The model is a combination of Swiss and British. There is no second Chamber. The President of the Republic is also the Prime Minister. He is elected annually, and cannot hold office for more than two consecutive years. Elections are organized and carried through by national and local Election Commissions. The twenty-one members of the national Election Commission are elected by the Members of Parliament. The insane, the criminal, deserters from the army and insolvents may not vote.

The domestic policy of the Socialist Government of Georgia is the gradual socialization of land and industry. Having guaranteed themselves as far as possible from enemies within the State by establishing themselves upon a thoroughly democratic basis, they have sought to accomplish what was expected of them by disturbing as little as might be the private interests and ordinary pursuits of the citizens. They have established a system of peasant proprietorship. This it was less difficult to do than might have been expected on account of the fact that 90 per cent. of the land had already been mortgaged by spendthrift proprietors. The law establishing the land in the hands of the peasants was finally promulgated on January 25,1919. The amount of land allowed to each peasant is strictly limited to seven acres, or thirty-five acres for a family of five. The old landlord may have his seven acres if he will cultivate it himself, or within his own family. I met landlords who submitted cheerfully to the new system and noble ladies who rejoiced in their new-found economic liberties.

But again I say, a knowledge of newer methods of production is necessary to make the rich soil yield all that it is capable of yielding, and quantities of machinery must be imported if the area of soil under cultivation is to be increased. Only 24 per cent. of the land in Georgia was cultivated as against 31.5 per cent. in Russia, 55 per cent. in France and 574 per cent. in Italy in pre-war days.

There is an excellent Co-operative Movement in Georgia which is working up a national co-operative scheme of production and distribution for the peasants. By this means it is hoped to guard the interests of the consumer, so apt to be at the mercy of the cultivators of the soil in a country of fallen exchanges, and at the same time leave the peasants free in the possession and cultivation of their land.

No attempt, so far as I could discover, has been made to destroy private industry and individual enterprise, nor even to interfere with either beyond the need for protecting the vital interests of the workers and the necessity for safeguarding the interests and liberties of the country. The shops and bazaars of Tiflis were open, not closed and their windows boarded up as in Moscow and Petrograd. The principal streets of Tiflis and Batoum were a pleasant contrast to the Nevski Prospect.

The Ministry of Labour consists of two Commissars. For its purposes Georgia is divided into four districts: Tiflis, Koutais, Sokhum and Batoum. The officials of the Ministry are chosen from candidates elected by the Trade Unions. This important department has five sections: (i) the Chamber of Tariffs, which fixes wages and salaries; this is controlled by a committee comprising ten employers, ten workpeople and one representative of the Ministry of Labour; (2) the Chamber of Reconciliation; it is not obligatory that an employer or union should appeal to this body for help in the settlement of a dispute, but once having'appealed its decision is binding upon both; (3) The Commission of Insurance, which insures workpeople against accidents of all kinds; (4) The Committee of Relief, which insures against sickness and old age, and (5) The Labour Exchange, for the supply and regulation of labour. There is a universal eight hours' day in Georgia. Overtime is permitted in certain circumstances, but must be paid for at the rate of a time and a half. Holidays are fixed by law, and those who are obliged to work in holiday time must be remunerated with a double wage. Employers who dismiss workpeople must provide compensation, a law which does not invariably work out happily for workpeople or for masters.

The price of bread in the open market at the time of our visit was 30 roubles a pound. For the workers the same bread was 5 roubles. It was possible for us to buy 3,800 roubles with an English pound.

All this interesting information was given to us during numerous and protracted interviews with members of Government departments and Trade Union officials. The most distinguished of this number was M. Jordania, the President Prime Minister. He is a man of tall and stately and even aristocratic bearing. But there is not the slightest shadow of doubt of his democratic sympathies and real belief in Socialism. He wears a well-trimmed beard, has fine dark eyes and sensitive, shapely hands. He speaks well and clearly, has a rich fund of humour and is adored by his people.

We had the pleasure of meeting the President's aged mother in her simple home at Goria. She was dressed in the native woman's dress, a stiff, black silk skirt, very full and touching the ground all round. A long-sleeved jacket covered the embroidered blouse. Over her head she wore a white veil which was attached to a black velvet circlet fixed squarely on the head. The veil fell down the back almost to the edge of the skirt. On either side of the sweet old face were old-fashioned ringlets, a part of the general costume and style of the women. This tiny old lady of lovely and hospitable spirit could not understand or appreciate a subdivision of land which robbed her loved son of a large part of his patrimony; but with gentle firmness he pointed out that the new law was for all alike, the rich as well as the poor, and that those who had more must give to those who had none.

In a quiet part of the garden is a sacred spot where a loved child lies buried. It is beautifully kept, and a garden seat facing the west is placed near the grave. We bent our heads at this sacred family shrine in a common feeling of sympathy and understanding.