Showing posts with label Khevsureti. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Khevsureti. Show all posts

Monday, May 6, 2019

William O. Field, Khevsuretia Diary and Notes, 1933

Excerpts from the diary and notes that William O. Field wrote during his 1933 trip to the historical Khevsureti region in Georgia. For Field's photos from the trip click here.



Khevsuratia [Khevsureti]
Passanour
Sakerpo (Badzua Veltauri guide)
Borisax
Khakhmati Pass 
Datursdgvari [Datvis Jvari Pass]
Leba-skari
Shatil [Shatili]
Return by Mutso, Ardoti, Xaxabo, Khakhmati, Borisax, Sakerpo, Goruli, Busarchili Pass, Karkucho, Orsha, Kobi

Notes From 1929 Guidebook

Trussov Ravine leading from Kobi inhabited entirely by Ossetins. Ossetes came from the steppes of Central Asia and emigrated around the north end of the Caspian about 1000 B.C.p. 478.5 km. beyond village of “Upper Tsei [Tsey]” is the sanctuary “Rekom”, a remnant of Osset paganism. Is about 800 years old. Yearly service takes place here with sacrifice of animals. Good Osset villages in gorges running from the Zaramag. Nar village is near Zaramag and very interesting

[...]

Cakerpo [Sakerpo] and other nearby village is first or lowest Khevsur village. Both collectively called Bakhurheir.

Oct. 6, 1933

Outfit left Passanour with two men and five horses at about 11 a.m. The day was fine. The route lead up the old Georgian Highway now reduced in many places to the width of a horse trail. About 1 km. from Passanour we came to a place where the river (known as the Black Aragva [Aragavi]) had cut into the bankHighway now reduced in many places to the width of a horse trail. About 1 km. from Passanour we came to a place where the river (known as the Black Aragva [Aragavi]) had cut into the bank and washed away the trail. Men were working but had only a narrow way dug out. Badzia tried to ford the river instead. When the pack horse carrying the camera, film, and my duffle was in ? stream, his pack started to slip, but he managed to get to the bank before it collapsed under his belly. It was soon fixed but was a close shave as it might have completely spoiled the trip. The next ford proved impractical so we had to return. The horses were then unloaded and the stuff carried over the washed – out section. The rope slipped on one pack and the equipment case almost rolled away into the river.After over an hour’s delay we got started again and went on with no hitches to Sakerpo, Valteuri’s village. Here we had expected to find his home more or less in keeping with himself that is somewhat more advanced than his compatriots. Actually it was no so. His family lived in the rudest sort of stone hut with open lattice work of branches, the only protection on two sides.
There was a fire on one side of the room beside which squatted a man rocking a baby and nearby a woman mixing dough in a wooden trough. The smoke from the fire found its way out as fast as it could for this was no special vent for it. The room, the only one in the hut was full of stuff including; farm implements, great vats for storing grain, firewood, hay, utensils, benches, crude beds, etc. Much of the stuff was hung from the rafters. Below was the place for the cattle, mostly below ground. Our beds that night were hay covered with a rug. Supper consisted of canned sprats, bread, and milk with cocoa in it, sausage and cheese. In the house were at least three other women, two youngish and one old, one man, and three or four children of various ages, at least one of which was still feeding from its mother.The evening was clear and cold, the afternoon having been mostly cloudy. Oct. 7th We had some bread, cheese, sausage, and milk for breakfast. We took on two new pack animals leaving two behind. One of the new ones, a mule, carried the four heaviest pieces, fully 225 lbs. and did remarkably well all day long. We packed up and were away at 9:25 A.M. The day had looked as though it would be clear to start with but clouds soon settled over the mountain tops and we had few moments of sunshine during the day. For two hours we climbed the pass, the last part being in clouds and swirling mists with a cutting wind. Once over the top, the trail leads along ridges for some distance. There was a good deal of snow on the eastern slopes but the footing was pretty good. It was pretty cold, however, at 1 P.M., we got below the snow and the snow flurries turned to a little rain. Here we stopped and had some hard bread, sprats, sausage, cheese, and some milk from the thermos.

Georgian shepherd from Khevsureti region in eastern Georgia 
(Photo by William O. Field)


Below us was Borisakho the capital of Khevsuretia [Khevsureti]. Low clouds had prevented us from obtaining a beautiful view of the mountains and valleys of Khevsureti a [Khevsureti]. We however, did catch glimpses of the deep nearby valleys, - all water cut, none that we could see were molded by glaciers. Thus the slopes are all pretty steep and there is no level farmland on the shoulders of the hillsides or in the bottom of the valleys. At 2:15 we were off again and in less than 1 ½ hours were in Borisakho. To destroy any illusions as to the size of this district capital it should be said that it consists of several groups of houses scattered about a little valley, not more than about 35 houses in all. At the bottom near the river are two new building s, one the school and the other both the Ispolkom H.Q. and hospital. This last is the only one in Khevasuretia [Khevsureti] and has the only doctor. In two other villages there are clinics with a Feldsher in charge.At the school house were a number of men, probably Ispolkom members. Our statement that we wanted to go to Shatil [Shatili] met with considerable shrugging of shoulders and skeptic looks. At any rated we decided to go on to a village near the bottom of the pass. Yavorovski then said that there was a “terrible” bridge to be crossed before we could go on. This bridge proved admittedly rickety but by leading the horses over individually, it was easily managed.

The trail then lead eastward up a narrow valley. It was almost all wooded and in pretty good shape. We met one man who gave us all a drink of his arak, - quite good. At 6:15 after two hours of travel we reached a little village called Chala, - in appearance the most interesting we have seen so far. On the other side we stopped at a house and unpacked the horses. It was already getting dark and cold but instead of immediately getting the stuff inside and setting a fire lit, Badzie in the true Caucasian style had to talk and discuss all matters with the host leaving us seated on the baggage. However, an hour later we moved in. ‘In” is only relative for the end of the room is open and apparently can’t be closed even in the coldest weather. In the house were two young boys with embroidered coats decorated with some silver-wear but wearing no shoes or stockings of any kind. They seemed cold all the time I was there and yet this is only the beginning of winter. After long delays some potatoes were brought in and set to boil to make a soup. An hour later two [?] of chicken were added. * The fire was pitiful. Apparently these people don’t even know the value of a really good fire although there is lots of wood on the nearby hillsides.By 10:30 we started for bed. They insisted I should take one of the benches so as there was only one candle all watched me get into the blankets then moved on. It was then I found that Yavorovski had left his blanket in Tiflis and had only a coat to sleep in! I passed a fairly good night.*This chicken is I think wretched. Apparently the whole chicken is dumped in, - bones, skin, and all. So far I have found very little meat. Besides this we Incidentally twice during the trip up to the top of the pass the pack horses’ load slipped and my camera went off with a thud. It certainly is getting rougher treatment than it has had before.

Had some hard bread, they call roast, sausage (bad for it is mostly fat and very stringy, getting into one’s teeth at every bite) and cheese, which is good.The village of Chala is comprised of ten or fifteen houses and has a little church or perhaps chapel. There is no school and so it is safe to say few of the youth ever get any schooling or learn to read or write. Religious worship occurs but twice a year. It is a mixture of Christianity and Paganism. At these bi-yearly festivals cattle are sacrificed. No church vessels and sacred ornaments are left in the church. They are put there only for the festivals. No one knows how old are these houses and the church.Oct. 8.It was a devilish cold morning only a few degrees above freezing. Everybody except myself seemed to have had a pretty wretched night. My blankets, however, had kept me fairly warm and although not exactly comfortable, I got through all right. Again, there were clouds on all the summits and ridges, some looking very snowy. Badzia felt that the summits ahead would be unbearably cold so advised waiting till 11 A.M. to get started. Unfortunately this seemed a wise thing to do. Soon it developed that he really did not think it safe to try the pass leading over to Shatil [Shatili]. The men of the village advised us not to try it. It was very steep and there was a lot of snow. Furthermore it is a long summit requiring at least two hours at a high altitude which in this sort of weather would be obviously punishing to both horses and men. Two weeks ago one man had managed to get his horse across but only with great difficulty. Since then a lot of new snow had fallen so that it was thought that no more horses could be taken over till next summer.It was disappointing but necessary, therefore to give up Shatil [Shatili] and Mutso with its towers. Another year maybe, but not this one. The villages on this side of the pass must suffice. We decided, therefore, to cross the first smaller pass leading into the next valley to the villages near Kakemati, a little regional center of about thirty-five houses.Our morning’s breakfast was the usual cheese, sausage, dry bread, and tea. The children of the house were inadequately clothed and shivered pitifully. One little boy seemed to have nothing under his light woolen shirt. About noon we had another meal of the usual food. The weather was still bad for pictures with no sunlight as yet. There were signs of clearing, however. At about 2 P.M. we were getting packed up when a young man came up and asked if we had something to put on his hand which was cut. As I was getting out some mercurochrome he came up into the rooms lashing at one dog that was snapping at him. Then from behind the other dog sneaked up and got hold of his leg and got a good hold. He made a nasty hole and showed how much these dogs can be trusted.

Between two and three o’clock we got away with the weather showing signs of clearing. It was still raw and windy, however. In a little over an hour we were on the summit and there stopped for over an hour to take our first movies. There were a number of men we had seen at Chala there so we took pictures of them as well. We then continued on down into the valley and in another hour and half came to the villages of Kakinati and Piso. We chose Piso as our stopping place. At the river, Badzia met a man who evidently consulted to put us up and so lead us to his house, the uppermost of the village of about 13 or 14 houses. It was already quite late.

It was soon apparent that this house was more comfortable than either the one in Sacerpo or Chala, but it was still pretty crude. The family consisted of the man and his wife both say 35 years of age and their three children, tow girls of 9 and 13 and a boy of 6. Apparently it was quite new to them to have a foreigner there and they considered me a distinguished guest. This was shown when during the meal the hostess stood holding the kerosene light so that we could see. Had we not been distinguished she would simply have put the light on any nearby stand.It is customary for a guest to bring a bottle of wine so we broke out one of the bottles of cognac and all had a drink. I think it was appreciated by all especially our host. They gave me the main seat next to the fire which was particularly welcome not for my comfort but because it was the first place I had seen in Khevsuretia [Khevsureti] where one could change films in the magazines after a day’s work. This worked out pretty well during the next days.

Our supper was sausage, cheese, bread, potatoes, canned chicken, and tea. It was a long repast and by the time the children were finished it must have been nearly eleven. Our sleeping places were also better than in the other villages, being a room back inside the house where the hay was stored. He were quite comfortable, Although somewhat cramped for space with Cali (the interpreter), Usef (the horse man), and myself.Oct. 9It was a beautiful day with hardly a cloud in the sky. We photographed the family at work from household duties to farm work. All day they worked especially the hostess who excited my admiration the way she kept at it all day long going from one job to the next. I never saw her rest except when actually eating. The rest of the time she was constantly at work.We cut out one meal this day contenting ourselves with some breakfast of coffee with mile, sausage, cheese, and bread, and a Khevsuretian supper served by the family we were staying with. This last consisted of a pancake – like cake in which were wrapped potatoes, cheese, and butter, and then this heated up and dipped in butter. We were hungry and enjoyed it but it was not really very good. When we thought we were all through we were served with a fresh batch of these cakes and for politeness Had to eat some more. Strangely enough we had no particular ill effects from this repast. I had to work late to finish loading and unloading the magazines as all five were used up during the day. Oct 10.Another fine day. Our breakfast was the same as usual. The milk with which to make coffee is greatly appreciated. Our work that day was in large part outside the village proper. We visited the church. Badzie couldn’t come near but it was all right for Coli and I to go near. These churches are deserted on all except the two yearly celebrations that take place in July and August. At other times Kevsur’s are not supposed to go near. On the church was a cross in relief and near it the antlers of an animal like a deer, - a graphic example of the mixture of Christian worship and animal sacrifice. Nearby were large pots for sacrifices and several altar–like structures with a kind of ikon and on top the horns of rams.Above the church on the hillside was an old tower, a remnant of the days when the Khevsurs fought their neighbors such as the Ingush peoples.Above the village of Piso were the ruins of several old fortresses used by the people as dwellings during these wars. Now these are almost totally destroyed as their stones have been used for building and repairing in the village below.On the way back to our hosts house we had what amounted to a running fight with a ferocious looking dog which had to be kept off with stones thrown at him.Another guest turned up in our household, - a relative who formerly lived in the village but has since moved to Telav [Telavi] in Khaketia. He also shared in our food which is already running short. However, with the native bread, which however, isn’t very good, cheese and milk, we should be able to get through.These warm sunny days and cold nights have probably added to the difficulty of getting horses to Shatil [Shatili] for the snow on the pass is now frozen. I don’t yet know and probably never will just how difficult it would have been to get to Shatil [Shatili]. I don’t think travelling conditions could have been as bad as painted by Coli.


Oct. 11.

Another beautiful day. We had decided that this must be our last in Piso as we had the essentials of this families activities and did not want to stay on too long as this is their busiest season and there is much to do before winter sets in.We spent most of the day around our host’s house photographing details of the life of the family. Their relative found some Of the old fighting clothes and borrowed the rest of what was needed and dressed for me. This consisted of a head piece with a veil of mail, a coat of mail reaching to the knees, a shield, and a sword.Oct. 12.Beautiful day. Started at 11A.M. for Borisakho. Stopped several times en route so reached there at dark (es. 6:30 P.M.). Bridge being built so had to ford river. After some delay given a room where Coli, Badzie, Yusif, and I were quite comfortable. Coli and I had benches to sleep on.The Chairman of the Khevsuretian Ispolkom joined us for supper; second bottle of cognac brought out. His daughter Tania sang for us afterwards. Coli and I then joined him for supper and talked till late.Oct. 13.Beautiful day. Photographed bridge building and the two gov. bldgs. Then made 4 series of tests which for the most part were badly developed but what emulsion received showed pictures to be good.Oct. 14Another beautiful day. Got started about 9 A.M. went by longer but better route for horses and reached summit at 1P.M. Photographed here for an hour then went on to Sakerpo. Almost lost equipment sack when rope holding it on horse gave way. Yusif caught it just before it rolled to the edge of a steep side bank above the river. Reached Sakerpo 4 P.M. Had the same uncomfortable quarters but this time we were more used to them and got along pretty well. The place is awfully drafty, however, especially in the evening. Badzie’s father-in-law gave us some horrible tasting vodka of his for supper. We had to take it.

Oct. 15.

Shashlick for breakfast (from the sheep bought in Piso). Very good – Photographed around the village during the day. Being Sunday, I believe it was Free Day and little work was going on. We had been assured that this was the time to organize a dance and special work. However, it developed that religious beliefs prevented any work to be done on Sunday with the result that no dance was possible and only with great difficulty could we get certain scenes of weaving, knitting, etc. At the end of the day our work was stopped by a cloud that persistently obscured the sun for over an hour before it disappeared behind a mountain. Actually this was the only time we had been so delayed on our trip.

Oct. 16.

Another beautiful day. Got started at about 9:45 AM and hurried to Passanour without stopping in order to get word to Tiflis early enough to get there that day. We arrive at Passanour a little after 2 P.M. but found that the telephone line would not be open to that station till 4 P.M. We therefore sent a note to the Intourist office in Tiflis by a Soyuztrans bus going that way and settled down for a long wait. At 4 P.M. Coli got Tiflis on the phone but the connection was so bad that as it turned out he couldn’t make himself understood so that effort was wasted, although at the time we thought Tiflis understood enough to send us a car right away.No car came all evening so we spent the night in the hotel. It was long and now obvious and the light too poor to read by.

Oct. 17.

The car finally came at 10A.M. and three and a half hours later we were in Tiflis. There I found Louis who had made two trips to Mtskhet for pictures, and two to Borzom. He was expecting to go to Kasbek in a day or two. Our plans were to go to Ossetia leaving Tiflis Oct. 20th.
NOTE Khevsurs studying in Tiflis 1930 Total 33 men, 7 women In kindergarten, 5 boys Higher schools, 2 girls Technical (Railroad) school, 4 boys Sewing school, 4 girls Workers school, 2 men, 1 girl Agricultural school, 12 men Financial Cooperative shop, 1 man Technical school, 2 men Construction courses, 8 men Militia, 1 man  
In 1929 three gynecologists went through Khev. Made 59 operations 325 women and 225 men treated. Sickness in Khev.: 12% eyes; 12% rheumatism; 18% women diseases; 28% stomach trouble; Rest unclassified. First cooperative started in 1929. 2% of people became members involving 8% of the houses Were 11 women and 65 men. Deposits in 1930 were 247 rubles.Turnover of money during 1930 was 29,225 rubles. Goods needed were kerosene, matches, salt, candy, clothes. Khev. Cows.Yearly average 575 kg.; in a technical institute this same cow will produce 2500 kg.

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Elisée Reclus, Nouvelle géographie universelle (1881)

In the early 1870s, the French publishing house Hachette decided to published a multi-volume reference work on cultural geography of the world, a pioneering idea of the famous French geographer Elisée Reclus. Entitled Nouvelle géographie universelle: La Terre et les Hommes, it took Reclus eighteen longs years (1876-1894) to complete his magna opus of nineteen volumes, each devoted to a particular region of the world and containing detailed essays on land and peoples of that part of the world. The book was widely acclaimed and was translated in several languages, including English. In 1892 Reclus was awarded the prestigious Gold Medal of the Paris Geographical Society for this work.

Volume six of Nouvelle géographie universelle, which was published in 1881, dealt with "L'Asie Russe" (Russian Asia) where Reclus included a vast area from the Caucasus to Central Asia and Siberia. In the chapter on the Caucasus, the author provided geographic overview of North and South Caucasia and described peoples residing there. While working on this chapter, Reclus solicited a wide range of materials on Georgia some of which was provided by Georgian writer Iona Meunargia.
The chapter included many illustrations that were drawn from life or based on photographs taken in the region. Below are the excerpts and illustrations pertaining to Georgia:


The Svans and Rachians

The natives themselves are far from being a pure race. Amidst a great variety of types the contrast presented by the fair and brown Mingrelians is very striking. The former are distinguished by a lofty brow and oval face, the latter by broad features and low forehead, though both are alike handsome and of graceful carriage. From the remotest times the eastern shores of the Euxine have been visited by friends and foes of every race, many of whom must have introduced fresh ethnical elements. Arabs, and even negroes, flying from their Turkish masters, have contributed to increase the confusion. Yet, however numerous were the crossings, all have become blended together, jointly tending to develop the beauty of the original type. 

In the Mingrelian lowlands, and especially on the advanced spurs up to an altitude of about 3,700 feet, nearly all the men are handsome. But in the heart of the highlands, where the struggle for existence becomes more intensified, the features, especially of the women, are often even ugly. Goitre [a swelling of the neck or larynx resulting from enlargement of the thyroid gland] and cretinism [a condition of severely stunted physical and mental growth due to untreated congenital deficiency of thyroid hormones] are frequent amongst the Svans, and as we ascend the Ingur from the region of maize to the snowy pastures, the change in the appearance of the inhabitants is analogous to that which is observed by the traveller passing from the Italian lakes to the Alpine gorges of the Valais.

The Svans
The Svans, who occupy the Upper Ingur and Tskhenis valleys, are evidently a mixed race, although fundamentally akin to the Georgians, to whom they are also allied in speech. They were formerly a powerful nation mentioned by Strabo, and in the fifteenth century they still held the Upper Rion valley. The present survivors seem to descend mainly from fugitives driven from the Mingrelian plains by oppression and the calamities of war. In the secluded valleys bordering on the glaciers they found a secure retreat, almost severed by physical barriers from the rest of the world. More accessible are those of the Upper Tskhenis basin, who have consequently had to endure the hardest feudal rule under princes binding them to the glebe. This branch take the name of Dadian Svans, from the ancient Georgian princely title of "Dadian" assumed by the governing family. They are scarcely to be distinguished from their Imeritian neighbors, and their speech is a pure Georgian dialect. The Dadishkalian Svans, in the western division of the Upper Ingur basin, are also under a feudal lord of Kumik Tatar stock; but being regarded as serfs, they were emancipated at the expense of the Russian Government when serfdom was everywhere officially abolished. The eastern communities of the Upper Ingur have long maintained their independence, and are still often distinguished by the epithet of "Free," although they took the oath of obedience to Russia in 1853. And in many respects they are still really free, recognizing neither lord nor master, and rejecting even the control of the clergy. In the communal gatherings all have an equal voice, and important decisions require to be adopted unanimously, the opposition of a single member causing the whole question to be postponed until unanimity can be secured. Nor does the commune interfere in personal quarrels, which are regulated by the lex talionis [law of retaliation]. Nowhere else in the Caucasus are the laws of vendetta more rigorously adhered to, so that few are met who have not killed their man. All the houses along the Upper Ingur are real fortresses, perched on rocky eminences, and commanded by square watch-towers 60 to 80 feet high. The doors of these keeps are on the second or third story, and can be approached only by rude ladders formed of the stems of trees.

Hereditary animosities greatly contribute to the reduction of the population pent up in the bleak valley of Free Svania, or Jabe-Shevi; yet it is still so dense that the people are obliged to emigrate to the neighboring tribes. In the days of their military power their young men left their homes as conquerors, often undertaking plundering expeditions to the plains, and even in the fourteenth century they were strong enough to burn the city of Kutais. Till recently the excessive population was also checked by the practice of infanticide, in which most of the girls perished, while in hard times grown-up children were sold at prices varying from 700 to 1200 francs. The small amount of trade carried on by the tribes lower down is monopolized by the Jews, who are grouped in the village of Lakhamuli. These Jews are distinguished from their brethren elsewhere by their warlike habits. But although practicing Christian rites and calling themselves Svans, the hillmen of the Upper Ingur contract no alliances with them, and even refuse to eat at their table.

All the Svans, estimated at over 12,000, are classed amongst the Christian tribes of Caucasia, and even claim a sort of pre-eminence amongst their co-religionists, pretending that their ancestry were baptized by Christ himself. But their Christianity has been developed in a somewhat original manner under the influence of older rites. Thus their little chapels, large enough to accommodate about a dozen, have crypts filled with the horns of the chamois and wild goat, which are objects of great veneration. The priests, or "papas," form a distinct hereditary caste, though their only privilege is exemption from the laws of vendetta. Although not obliged to keep the lower part of the face covered, the women pass a bandage over their mouths when singing national or religious songs, possibly to prevent the devil from entering. All the Svans are also bound to silence when on the march, or chanting sacred hymns, for the least word might draw down the tempest. Analogous superstitions occur amongst the Norwegian fishermen, the Buriats, and the American hunting tribes.

The district of Racha, comprising the Upper Rion valley, is larger and more populous than the western basins of the Tskhenis and Ingur, and has always offered a route to graziers, traders, and even warlike bands crossing the Caucasus obliquely from the Georgian to the Terek lowlands. Hence the Rachians, who, like most of the people in the government of Kutais, are of Georgian race and speech, are more civilized than their Svanian neighbors. But they also are too numerous for their largely unproductive territory, so that thousands are forced to emigrate to the lowlands, seldom returning without having amassed a small fortune. Most of the carpenters and sawyers met with in Imeria and Mingrelia are Rachians.

The Imeritians, Mingrelians, and Lazes

The Georgians of the Upper Rion basin bear the general name of Imeritians, or more properly Imerians; that is, "People of the other side," in reference to the Suram Mountains separating them from the bulk of the nation. The term Imereth, or Imeria, has been applied, with the shifting of the border peoples, at times to all Western Transcaucasia, at times only to its upper section, Mingrelia being usually reserved for the low-lying region comprising the alluvial lands and coast district. 

Thanks to their damp, miasmatic, and enervating climate, the Mingrelians are mostly of an indolent temperament, while their brethren who have migrated to the dry district of Tiflis are noted for their active habits. A repugnance to labour was also naturally fostered by former devastating inroads, incessant intestine warfare, and the complete thralldom of the peasantry to their nobles. Here was represented every variety of serfdom, and until 1841 the priests themselves were classed as serfs. Even in recent times the Mingrelian princes were accustomed to apply personally for their tribute. Followed by courtiers, retainers, falconers, dogs, and horses, they would swoop down on some unfortunate vassal, living at his expense as long as the provisions lasted, then betaking themselves elsewhere, and thus making a round of revelry as self-invited guests, and leaving ruin in their wake. No women, especially if well favoured, were safe from these despots, who carried them off and sold their children into slavery.

Although generally too weak to resist, the Mingrelians were nevertheless occasionally driven by this oppression into revolt, as in 1857 and 1858, when they appealed to arms for the recovery of their captured women, and to get rid of the yoke riveted by their masters round their necks. But all such efforts were quenched in blood, nor was serfdom finally abolished till three years after its suppression in the rest of the empire. But many of its effects still remain, and in a teeming land the Imerians and Mingrelians continue, like the wretched Lombard peasantry, to live almost exclusively on a mess of maize or millet resembling the polenta of Italy. The usual dress is a tattered smock fastened by a cord or strap to the waist, and instead of a hat a bit of cloth retained on the head by a string passed under the chin. The Mingrelian farmstead consists of a wretched hovel of wood or branches, surrounded by badly cultivated maize-fields, with a few lean pigs or goats, and one or two buffaloes wallowing in the muddy pools. 

The Mingrelians
Although till recently dwelling beyond the political limits of Russian Transcaucasia, the Lazes of the Ajara and Chorukh basins are none the less akin in speech and race to the Mingrelians and Georgians. Those still subject to Turkey, and reaching westwards beyond Trebizond, are also of the same stock, though more or less mixed with other elements, while beyond these limits many geographical names show that in remote times the interior of Asia Minor was largely peopled by Georgians. Rosen has established the near relationship of the Laz and Georgian tongues. The language current on the banks of the Chorukh differs little from Mingrelian, though that of the west coast is largely affected by Turkish and Greek elements. In their customs also the Lazes resemble the Imerians. Both respect old age, are extremely hospitable, and, while full of curiosity, still maintain a dignified reserve. Like most Caucasians, they are fond of display and rich attire, nor do they deserve the charge of indolence brought against them by careless observers, for their fields are well tilled and their houses kept in good order. The Laz women combine with beauty and symmetry of form a rare reputation for courage. The Moslem Lazes have emigrated in large numbers to Turkish territory since the annexation to Russia in 1878, while the Christians will now probably find their way to Tiflis and the Russian ports on the Euxine.

The Imeretians dancing
The national character could scarcely fail to be modified under the Turkish regime. Three centuries ago all the Lazes of the Upper Ajara valleys were Christians, and many villages still boast of well-preserved churches in the best Byzantine style of architecture. Certain communes did not conform- to the Moslem creed till about the close of the eighteenth century, and several, though nominally followers of the Prophet, are still practically Christian, the two faiths often overlapping to such an extent that it becomes difficult to say where the one ceases and the other begins. With their religion the Turks also introduced their language into all the towns and large villages, so that the Laz dialect ceased to be current except in the remote rural districts. The Armenian colonies scattered over the land had also forgotten their mother tongue in favour of Turkish, which must now in its turn slowly yield to Russian, just as the Mohammedan must give way to the Christian faith.


The Georgians

In Central as in Western Caucasia the most numerous race are the Georgians, or Karthvelians, descendants of the Iberians spoken of by Strabo. The statuettes found in the graves represent exactly the same type and the same style of head-dress as those of the present inhabitants, so that no change has taken place in this respect during the last two thousand years. Masters of the land from the remotest historic times, the Georgians have succeeded, if not in maintaining their independence, at least in preserving their ethnical cohesion and various national idioms. They formerly occupied a wider domain, and although encroached upon at various times by Persians, Medes, Armenians, Mongols, Turks, and now by the Slavs, their territory still stretches from the plains of the Kura to Trebizond, and from Mount Elbruz to Mount Arsiani. Of all the Caucasian peoples the Georgians, who are estimated at upwards of a million, form the most compact and homogeneous nationality. In Georgia is situated Tiflis, capital of all Transcaucasia.

[...]

The Georgians of the Kura basin, like their Imerian, Mingrelian, and Laz kindred, fully deserve the reputation for physical beauty which they enjoy. They have the same abundant black hair, large eyes, white teeth, delicate complexion, lithe figures, small hands, that distinguish their western neighbours. Yet the appearance especially of their women, who mostly paint, can scarcely be described as prepossessing. They are cold and unattractive, their features lacking the animated expression and bright smile which intellectual development might be expected to have produced. 

Most of the Georgians have a high, almost flushed complexion, due doubtless to excessive indulgence in wine, of which they are ever ready to take copious draughts in honour of their friends, generally with the Tatar words, Allah Verdi, "the gift of God!" The Kakhetians especially, proud of their excellent vintages, consume large quantities, and before the ravages of the oidium [fungus], the usual allowance of the field labourers was here about half a gallon daily. This fiery wine, some of which might compare favourably with the best produced in Europe, is mostly consumed in the country, and one of the most familiar sights in Kakhetia is the well-filled ox or pig skins hanging at the doors of the shops, or crossing the country in waggon-loads. In order to preserve the pliancy of the skins the natives have the horrible practice of flaying the beasts alive, and then smearing the hides with naphtha. This imparts a disagreeable flavour to the liquor, to which, however, even strangers soon get accustomed.

Notwithstanding the fertility of the land and relatively sparse population, the peasantry of the Kura basin are generally poor, owning little beyond a few mangy cattle and sheep, whose wool looks almost like hair. Like the Mingrelians and Imerians, though to a less extent, the Georgians have suffered from the feudal system. However, since 1864 and 1866 they have at least ceased to be attached to the glebe, and serfdom has been abolished in Transcaucasia, as elsewhere throughout the empire. But the nobles, who have remained large proprietors, have not all of them yet lost the habit of treating the peasantry as beasts of burden, while practices begotten of slavery in the people themselves have not yet disappeared. 

They are for the most part uncleanly and listless, though their naturally cheerful, social, and upright disposition is gradually asserting itself. They are said to be rather less intelligent than the Caucasian races, and in the schools show less quickness than their Tatar and Armenian neighbours in mastering foreign languages and the sciences, though this may be partly due to the fact that the latter are mainly townsfolk, while the former are a rural population. 

Theft is a crime almost unknown in the Georgian and Armenian communities, the few cases of larceny that come before the Tiflis courts being mostly committed by strangers. At the same time many are addicted to contraband habits. Nor does their national legislator, King Vakhtang, seem to have entertained any high opinion of their general uprightness. "I have drawn up this code," he writes, "but in Georgia no just sentence has ever yet been, nor ever will be, pronounced." Yet, however barbarous may have been the former Government, it remained for the Russians to introduce corporal punishment of the most degrading form.

Georgians
One of the most remarkable traits of the Georgian race is their love of song and the dance. They have no great musical talent, and their language, with its numerous gutturals and sibilants, is scarcely adapted to melody. Yet none the less do they keep up an incessant chant all day long, accompanying themselves with the daira, or tambourine, and the balalaika, a sort of three-stringed guitar. Some will, so to say, adapt every movement to musical rhythm, and while weeding their maize-fields or engaged in other field work, the men dispose themselves in groups, singing in various sets snatches of verse suitable to the work in hand. As they advance the chorus becomes more vigorous, and their measured movements more rapid. At the end of the furrow they stop short, shift their places, and in retracing their steps renew the interrupted burden of their song. Despotic masters from gloomy Russia attempted in vain to impose silence on their Transcaucasian labourers. Unaccompanied by the glad music of the voice, the daily task hung heavy on their hands.

On foot, on horseback, or in their ramshackle carts the whole population flocks to the scene, indicated from afar by some venerable church or cluster of oak-trees, and here the song, the dance, trade, revelry, and religious rites all follow in rapid succession. Worship is itself performed with a sort of blind rapture. Pilgrims present themselves before the priest to have the iron collar removed, with which they had symbolized their temporary thraldom to the patron saint; and when released they immolate to his honour the ram or the bull, which afterwards supplies the banquet. Frequently some fair white-robed "spouse of the white George" will cast herself at the feet of the faithful, who must either step on her prostrate body or leap over it to reach the hallowed shrine. The Armenians, and even the Moslem Tatars, come to trade, are at times carried away by the religious frenzy, and join in the chorus and Christian rites. To the sacred succeed the profane dances, which often assume the appearance of a free fight, the victors seizing the girdles of the vanquished, enveloping themselves in the ample folds of their burkas, or donning their imposing papaches. Formerly the sham fights held in the streets of Tiflis in commemoration of the expulsion of the Persians ended in regular battles, often accompanied by loss of life.

The Khevsurs, Pshavs, and Tushes

As in the west, so in East Georgia, the ethnical picture is completed by a group of highlanders, who had till recently maintained their independence in their inaccessible upland retreats. On the one hand are the already described Svans, on the other their Khevsur, Pshav, and Tush neighbours. The highest eastern valleys about Mount Borbalo have afforded a refuge to fugitives of diverse race and speech, who, amidst these secluded upland snows and pastures, have gradually acquired, if not an independent type, at least a distinct physiognomy. Chechenzes, Lezghians, Georgians, and, according to tradition, even Jews have entered into the composition of these tribes, although the chief ethnical element is no doubt the Georgian from the south, whose presence is also shown by the prevailing Christian practices. Nevertheless the predominant speech on the northern slopes is of Chechenz origin.

Mount Borbalo is no less remarkable as an ethnological than as a water parting. Eastward stretches the Tush district, watered by the two head-streams of the Koisu of Andi; on the south the Alazan of Kakhetia, apart from a few Tushes, is mainly occupied by Georgians; on the south-west the sources of the Yora and Eastern Aragva rise in the Pshav territory; while the Khevsurs, or "People of the Gorges," dwell in the west and north-west, on both slopes of the central range, though it is impossible to assign definite limits to all these peoples. They frequently shift their quarters, following their flocks to fresh pastures assigned to them by custom, or acquired by the fortunes of war.

The Pshavs, who reach farthest down, or about the altitude of 3,300 feet, thus abutting on the Southern Georgians, are the most civilised of these highlanders, and speak a Georgian dialect. They have greatly increased in numbers since the pacification of the land has enabled them to bring their produce to the Tiflis market. The Tushes, though less numerous and pent up in their rugged valleys everywhere enclosed by snowy mountains, are said to be the most industrious and intelligent of all the hillmen in this part of the Caucasus. Most of the men, being obliged, like the Savoyards, to emigrate for half the year, bring back from the lowland populations larger ideas and more enterprising habits. Many have even acquired a considerable amount of instruction, besides several foreign languages. Their own is an extremely rude dialect, poor in vowels, abounding in consonants, with no less than nine sibilants and eight gutturals, one of which combines so intimately with the preceding or following consonants that special signs had to be invented to represent the combined letters.

The Khevsurs, completely isolated from each other during the winter by the main range, are still in a very rude and almost barbarous state, although in some respects one of the most remarkable people in Asia. Generally of a lighter brown complexion than the Tushes, they are evidently a very mixed race, varying considerably in stature, features, colour of hair and eyes, and in the shape of the cranium. Most of them have a savage aspect; some are extremely thin, like walking skeletons with miraculously animated Death's heads on their shoulders, and with large hands and feet, out of all proportion with the rest of the body. From the surroundings they have acquired muscles of steel, enabling them, even when heavily burdened, to scale the steepest cliffs, and often returning across the snows and rocks from Vladikavkaz with a hundredweight of salt on their backs.

Some of the still surviving Khevsur and Pshav customs resemble those of many Red Indian and African wild tribes. Thus the wife is confined in an isolated hut, round which the husband prowls, encouraging her to support the pains of labour with volleys of musketry. After the delivery young girls steal to the place at dawn or dusk with bread, milk, cheese, and other comforts, the mother remaining for a month in her retreat, which is burnt after her departure. The father is congratulated on the birth of a son, and feasts are prepared at his expense, but of which he may not partake. The struggle for existence in this unproductive land has introduced many practices calculated to limit the number of children to three; but infanticide does not prevail as it formerly did amongst the Svans. The Khevsurs show great affection for their offspring, though forbidden by custom to caress them in public. The boys are generally named after some wild animal— Bear, Lion, Wolf, Panther, &c., emblems of their future valour, while the girls receive such tender names as Rose, Pearl, Bright-one, Daughter of the Sun, Little Sun, Sun of my Heart, &c.

Most of the marriages are arranged by the parents while the children are yet in "long clothes." Nevertheless a formal abduction is still practiced, and after the wedding and attendant rejoicings, the young couple avoid being seen together for weeks and months. Yet divorce is frequent, and the example of the Mohammedans has even introduced polygamy in several Khevsur families. The funeral rites are not practiced with the same rigour as formerly, when none were allowed to die under a roof, but compelled to close their eyes in face of sun or stars, and mingle their last breath with the winds. In presence of the body the relatives at first feigned to rejoice, but tears and wailings soon followed, accompanied by mournful songs for the departed.

Armed Khevsur
The Khevsurs are very proud of their Christianity, which is certainly of an original type. Their chief divinity is the God of War, and amongst their other gods and angels are the Mother of the Earth, the Angel of the Oak, and the Archangel of Property. They keep the Friday like the Mohammedans, abstain from pork, worship the sacred trees, offer sacrifices to the genii of earth and air. They have priests whose duties are to examine the sick, sprinkle the victim's blood over the people, proclaim the future, prepare the sacred beer, and these dignitaries end by becoming possessed of all the precious stones, old medals, and chased silver vases in the country. 

The Khevsurs are also, perhaps, the only people in the world who still use armour, coats of mail, arm-pieces, and helmets like those of mediaeval knights, and formerly general amongst all the Caucasian tribes. Down to the close of the last century the Chechen Ingushes still wore the shield and coats of mail. The traveller is often startled by the sight of these armed warriors, who look like lineal descendants of the Crusaders, but whom the law of vendetta alone compels to go about thus cased in iron. All who have to execute or fear an act of vengeance appear abroad with all their offensive and defensive arms, including the terrible spiked gauntlet, which has left its mark on the features of most of the natives.

[...]

View on the Mountain Kazbegi

The Darial Pass

The Caucasian Jews

The village of Passanauri

The port town of Poti

Mtskheta. View on the medieval Svetitskhoveli Cathedral


One of the streets in Tiflis

The Armenians

An Abkhaz



Monday, March 30, 2015

Richard Halliburton, Seven League Boots (1935)

Richard Halliburton was American adventurer and writer who, in the 1920s and 1930s, had traveled widely in Europe and Asia. In the early 1930s he visited the newly established Soviet Union and traveled to Georgia, where he paid a visit to the Khevsureti (historical-ethnographic region in the mountains on eastern Georgia)  hearing about the chain-mail clad warriors living there. In his book, "Seven League Boots" (published in 1935), he devoted an entire chapter to the Khevsurs, opening it with the legend of the Khevsurs being descended from Crusaders who became separated from the main Christian forces they were accompanying and ended up establishing themselves in the Caucasus. Despite its overt orientalism, Halliburton's narrative still provides interesting insights into the early 20th century Khevsureti.


The city of Tiflis, capital of the state of Georgia in Caucasia, has long prided itself upon its advanced ideas, its broad boulevards, its modern architecture, and its progressive-minded citizens.

The shock was all the greater, therefore, when, in the spring of 1915, some months after Russia's declaration of war against Turkey, a band of twelfth-century Crusaders, covered from head to foot in rusty chain armour and carrying shields and broadswords, came riding on horseback down the main avenue.

People's eyes almost popped out of their heads. Obviously there was no cinema company going on location. These were Crusaders—or their ghosts. The incredible troop clanked up to the governor's palace. 'Where's the war?' they asked. 'We hear there's a war.'

They had heard in April 1915 that there was a war. It had been declared in September 1914. The news took seven months to reach the last of the Crusaders.

And you wouldn't be surprised, if you tried, as Fritz and I did, to find the behind-the-beyond country in which these twelfth-century people live.

One of the most curious and romantic legends of the Caucasus tells the story of the origin of this armoured tribe. And as yet no historian has found any reason to believe that the legend is not based entirely on fact. The story declares that this race came, eight hundred years ago, from Lorraine, more than two thousand miles away. The argument is borne out by the fact that their chain armour is in the French sty;e, while their otherwise incomprehensible speech still contains six or eight good German words.

When they left Lorraine, so goes the legend, the last thing they had in mind was the colonization of the frosty peaks of the Caucasus Moutnaints, for they were followers of Godfrey de Bouillon and planned to wrest the Holy Sepulchre from the Moslem [Muslim] infidels.

But during the thousand-mile march across what is now Asiatic Turkey, this particular band of Crusaders somehow got detached from the main army, and were prevented by the Saracens from rejoining it. Whether they took a northern course of their own accord, and continued on across Armenia and Georgia to the Caucasus as pioneers, or whether they were fleeing for their lives with Moslem scimitars swishing around their ears, the legend does not say. But we do know that they called a halt in one of the most rugged and unapproachable corners of the Caucasus... and didn't emerge again in force till 1915 when the rumours of a worth-while war brought them, wearing their ancestors' coats of mail, into Tiflis.

These strange people, called Khevsoors, have continued to occupy their hidden corner for over eight centuries. But not one inch have they advanced in general culture, In fact they have lost whatever of the arts they brought with them from Lorraine, and nearly all the crafts. 

Only their Crusader chain armor, more or less indestructible, they still have, and the letters A.M.D. - Ave Mater Dci, the motto of the Crusaders — carved on their shields, and the Crusader crosses which adorn the handles of their broadswords and are embroidered in a dozen places on their home-made garments. At the same time, the Khevsoors have developed a crude culture of their own that makes them, to me, the most interesting “foreign” race in all Russia. 

Maintaining their independence unbroken for the last eight hundred years, they were walled off from the world by barriers of mountains and canyons. A highway extending ninety miles. north of Tiflis approaches to within twenty miles of one of their villages. But the single cliff-cut trail that leads off to it is traversable only on foot, or with horses that can climb, slide and swim. Even this trail is closed by ice and snow in December and remains closed till May. During these five months no one can enter and no one can depart from Khevsooria. 

To visit this archaic, clan, this lost world, Fritz and I, having traveled inland from the Black Sea to Tiflis and motored to the starting point of the only trail into Khevsooria, made what was perhaps the last trail-passage of the season. Iron crampons on our shoes were necessary for already ice covered everything. It was explained clearly to us before starting that one more fall of snow, after we had reached our destination, would make our return extremely difficult - we might even have to remain in the village five months, as much prisoners as our hosts. 

We took the risk, but watched the sky with anxious eyes as we advanced. Our luck held. It didn’t snow, nor did we slide off the cliff-face into the frozen river below. Terrific peaks, completely sheathed in ice, rose on all sides of us. I had been used to thinking, carelessly, that Mont Blanc is the highest mountain in Europe. But the range along whose slopes we climbed includes nine peaks higher, and a score more that topped the Matterhorn. Elbrus, the highest of the range, overtops Mont Blane by nearly three thousand feet. After six hours on the steep and slippery trail we descended into a valley, and saw the first Khevsoor village, a collection of rude stone huts, in which sheep, goats, pigs, cows and Khevsoors have been living happily together for eight hundred years. 

The entire population of the village — some three hundred — came to look at us, the first foreign visitors in two months. 

It was immediately evident that the Khevsoors have developed a communal life completely unmodified by any changes that may have occurred in the world outside. If at the end of their five months’ imprisonment they found that all life at the other end of the trail had been destroyed by a passing comet, they would continue t0 have no more and no less than before. Their houses and all the articles in them are home made - the furniture, the cradle, the cooking pots. They weave their own cloth from wool their sheep provide. They have no wheeled transport, only crude sleds made by their own  hands. Cartridges [for firearms] they would lack, but these have never been of any great importance anyhow in this sword-conscious community. 

Everybody works, raising barley, shepherding the sheep and goats; and the produce of their common labor is shared by all. No man is richer than his neighbor. No house is better than any other. Money they do not understand and do not want. Before I’d been in the village an hour I decided that personal beauty in Khevsooria is rare and brief. The eternal struggle to sustain life in this rugged country soon destroys their youth. The women looked old at thirty though they sometimes live to be a hundred. All women, obviously, were considered very inferior beings. They ate what the men had left, and slept together on the floor downstairs; the men in beds upstairs. 

One particularly cruel custom, handed down from the darkest ages, shocks anyone who comes to Khevsooria. For ten days before an expectant mother is delivered of a child (she may have married at fifteen), she must retire from the community and hide, an outcast and unclean, in an animal shed outside the village. She must never show herself. No one must be seen approaching I her. Absolutely alone she must bear her baby——in the dark, beside the goats. If her cries reach the village, her husband is allowed to go and fire his rifle from the shed’s roof in order to frighten away the evil spirits tormenting his wife. But he must not, even if she’s dying’ ' go inside. 

Fortunately the Khevsoor women are as tough as goats whose apartment they are using, and give birth to their young with about the same amount of trouble. 

Cruel to their women. And also cruel to their horses. While master lives, the horse is treated like a son, loved and protected. But when the master dies, the horse must die too. As the owner's corpse is bveing borne to the cemetery,  an expert horseman mounts the animal and rides it down canyons, across rivers, up hills, at the swiftest possible speed, spurring and spurring it - to death. The corpse of the horse is left where it falls for the vultures to dispose of. 

Meanwhile the greatest possible gayety is taking place at the dead man’s house. His family must make any sacrifice to provide a banquet for the village. Nobody mourns. Instead, everyone drinks as much home brew as possible and eats himself sick on all the sweetmeats that have been saved up since the illness began to look fatal. 

It is the one event in the social life of Khevsooria to which everybody looks forward. I asked my hosts if they had any religion . . . how much of their twelfth-century Christianity had they preserved? 

Yes, they were still Christians. They even had a church. The church proved to be only a shrine in the woods, containing an altar decorated with a cross, bronze bells, and the antlers of deer - symbols both Christian and Pagan. All meaning of Christianity has long since been forgotten. Christ is only a vague name to them, nor have they any idea why they wear a cross around their necks and on their swords and shields. 

But they do have a code of ethics and conduct that is as rigid as iron. One clause in this code concerning the honor of the clan - has caused more bloodshed than all their wars put together. 

If for any reason a Khevsoor is killed by Khevsoor, the heirs of the dead man are honor bound to kill the killer. That the killing may have been in self defense doesn’t matter. And then when this second assassination has been accomplished, the latest victim's heirs must kill his killer. And on and on, not for generations but for centuries, these vendettas continue, spreading and spreading until families not at first remotely connected with the feud are driven into it, and the original occasion completely forgotten. 

If the feud is between families of separate villages, each village spurs on its champion. The honor of the village is at stake. The appointed executioner probably has no quarrel whatsoever with the man he must kill, may scarcely even know him. That doesn’t matter. Honor must be served. If the ranking relative of the latest victim does not seek vengeance he is despised and spat upon. The men will not eat or work with him. The women will not speak to him except to jeer. His own children and family are made to suffer. The poor fellow, hating to continue the bloody and useless cycle, is driven to it by the Khevsoor code, knowing full well it means, soon or later, his own death in turn. 

Over one hundred Khevsoors have been sacrificed in the last thirty years to this insane custom.  

On first reaching the land of the lost Crusaders, I had hoped to find every man wearing his famous coat of mail. I didn't find a single one. Instead they all wore a homespun cross-embroidered shirt over baggy trousers. But on the wall in every house, the armor hung beside the shield and gun. The sword itself, varying from twelve to thirty inches in length, each man carries constantly. It is as much part of his dress as his sheepskin hat, or the ornamental row of cartridges across his chest.

Seeing how interested we were in the chain armor, the village elders took half a dozen suits and let me examine them and try one on. The entire outfit, including shield and sword, weighs about thirty pounds.

Each mesh coat is made of some twenty thousand tiny iron rings and goes on like a night shirt. The sleeves are short, but mesh gauntlets cover the forearms. With each suit goes a bag-like chain helmet with a hole cut out for the face. A flap folds over, so that the entire head can be protected. For the shins there are likewise mesh greaves. Consequently when completely arrayed, the only parts of the body vulnerable are the knees and thighs. The original mesh is terribly rusty, as the owners no longer understand how to preserve it. The newer coats are made from copper wire stolen from the telegraph line along the highroad. It is both cleaner and lighter than the iron but offers by no means as good protection.

The Khevsoors have not worn their coats of mail into battle since their famous march into Tiflis in 1915. The chief reason is that those who finally did join the Czar's army found that modern bullets have no respect for copper wire mesh.

But for dueling, which remains an accepted way for settling all disputes, the contestants still clothe themselves in their armor. Also they enjoy fighting for fun. Like their forefathers, the Crusader knights, they have a passion for putting on their iron shirts and going at each other with broadswords. Fighting, both in good and bad humor, in this land where books are unknown and where other forms of sport or diversion simply do not exist, is the only means they have of expressing themselves.

Sunday is reserved for getting drunk and dueling.

For our benefit two of the Khevsoor braves decided to put on a show. We all went to a little plateau outside the village where the duelists faced each other. There is no referee, as everybody has known and followed the rules for centuries. Unlike the jousting in the Middle Ages, when ladies were such important features in the tournament, the Khevsoorian duelists permit only men to watch. However, there is an age-old custom that permits a woman to stop a duel at her pleasure by appearing on the scene and tossing her handkerchief between the two combatants.

The fighters crouch with one knee bent almost to the ground. Their small round shields, embossed with a big cross, are used to parry rather than receive the blows of the opponent's sword. The duelists jump about with astonishing agility, circling and jockeying for position like fighting cocks.

Recklessly, the swords thud on leather shields, crunch on chain armor, or clash as they strike together. But unlike similar duels in German universities, wounds are rare, since the head and face, where most of the blows fall, are not exposed. There is no slit even for the eyes. The fighter must see as best as he can right through the mesh screen of the helmet flap.

The duel I witnessed was, of course, friendly. Though both fighters were well oiled on home-made barley brandy and didn't hesitate to attack with full vigor, a couple of bruises were the worst that happened.

When, however, anyone actually inflicts a wound, either in friendly or in angry battle, the victim must be compensated in cows. The village elder measures the wound in barley seed, and for every seed it will contain the guilty swordsman must pay one cow.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Ernest Chantre, Mission scientifique... dans la Haute Mésopotamie, le Kurdistan et le Caucase (1881)

Photographs taken by Captain Barry during Ernest Chantre's expedition to the Caucasus in 1881. They were eventually published in Mission scientifique de Mr Ernest Chantre, sous-directeur du Museum de Lyon, dans la Haute Mésopotamie, le Kurdistan et le Caucase. VI, Caucase. Arménie, Géorgie, Osséthie, etc. (Paris, 1881).