Richard Wilbraham, Travels in the Trans-Caucasian provinces of Russia (1839) - Part 4

After returning to Tiflis from his excursion to North Caucasus, Wilbraham realized that he had plenty of time before the arrival of Emperor Nicholas I. So he decided to make "a short excursion into the province of Kakheti, the vineyard of Georgia, which, as the learned pretend, is the native country of the vine."


My companion for the first few days was a German wine merchant, in treaty for the produce of the vineyards. I travelled in light marching order, with a single servant and a Cossack to be my guide and guard. A small valise tied behind my servant's saddle carried all I wanted. We halted for the first night at the Cossack station of Markobi [Martkopi?], a dreary spot as one would wish to see. The broken panes admitted the wind so freely that our candles were several times extinguished, and the evening felt quite wintry.

October 2nd. Our next night's quarters were more comfortable; and we cared not for the storm which howled without, while seated by a blazing fire, the first that I had seen for many a month. Our host was a young Georgian prince, whose rude dwelling occupied one corner of the ruinous castle of Telav [Telavi], the last stronghold of the gallant but ill-fated Heraclius [King Erekle], last but one of the monarchs of Georgia. Nothing could be more primitive than the architecture of his house: the room in which we sat was scarcely twelve feet square, and furnished only with a bench and table; the walls were made of trunks of trees cemented with mortar, and were scarcely proof against the rain, which fell in torrents. Though in name a prince, our host was scarcely above the labouring class in station or intelligence: he was the owner of a vineyard, by the produce of which he lived, and in which he worked himself, together with his servants. 

The women of his household were as carefully secluded from our sight as in any part of Persia; and whenever they appeared for a moment outside the door, they were closely muffled in their linen sheets. Our host was hospitable to the extent of his means; and after the long day's exercise we were not inclined to quarrel with his homely fare, especially as it was washed down by very palatable wine.

The rain did not set in till we had nearly reached Telav, and our ride was highly enjoyable. The country was beautifully wooded with every variety of forest-tree, and the broad glades of springy turf, almost arched over by lofty branches, opened at times upon wide tracts of park-like scenery. A few small villages lay at a distance from the road; and on the most commanding hills were seen the crumbling towers of many an ancient keep, whose walls of solid masonry had been rent asunder by the giant ivy. These were the castles of the feudal princes of Georgia, a brave but lawless race, now quite extinct. The neighbourhood of the Lesghis, the fiercest of the mountain-tribes, renders this road unsafe; and Cossack pickets are stationed by the road-side at intervals of several miles. From each of these I took a horseman to guide me to the next. We passed a village where the grenadiers of Georgia have their winter quarters, and then commenced a long ascent, so slippery that our horses could hardly keep their legs. From the summit we overlooked the vale of Kakheti, and the serpentine course of the Alazan [river], which washes the base of the mountains of Daghistan. Telav was concealed among the trees. The rain, which had long threatened, now began to fall: we hastened our pace, and, as the evening closed in, we entered the town in the midst of a pitiless storm. It is a wretched place, but the situation is happily chosen.

It was the season of the vintage when I reached Telav, but the uninterrupted rain had put a stop to their labours; I therefore was prevented witnessing the process of making the wine, which I am told is simple in the extreme. My travelling companion hoped by adopting a more improved method to produce a wine fit to be classed with generous Burgundy. On one or two estates, where more than ordinary pains are taken, the superior flavour of the wine shows that it is capable of great improvement. I have tasted some which had been several years in bottle, and thought it excellent. It is a full-bodied wine, and of a pleasant flavour, when it has not acquired a taste of naphtha from the skin.

The Georgians have the reputation of being the greatest drinkers in the world: the daily allowance, without which the labourer will not work, is four bottles; and the higher classes generally exceed this quantity: on grand occasions the consumption is incredible.

October 5th. Having taken leave of my kind host, who pressed me to return by the way of Telav, I bade adieu to my companion, and resumed my wanderings. The early morning was fine, and as the mists cleared away from the bed of the Alazan, we perceived the opposite mountains covered with fresh snow. The river, swollen with the late rains, was now impassable, otherwise I might have been tempted to explore the country of the Lesghis. My hopes of a fine day soon proved delusive: the clouds again began to lower, and the rain fell thick and fast. At times the sky would break for a few moments, enough to show me how beautiful the scenery would be were the weather fine. We passed through many a pretty village, with its high pointed roofs and broad verandas. Each house stood singly in its own domain, upon a sloping bank which faced the south: a few tall groups of oak and ash grew near the river-side, while rich vineyards covered the whole face of the hills. The scene was quite alive, in spite of the bad weather: groups of women were collected beneath the shelter of their porticoes; and numerous waggons, drawn by four or six buffaloes and oxen, were carrying the newly made wine to Tiflis. Instead of casks, the skins of buffalo are used in Georgia for preserving wine. They are turned inside out, and smeared with naphtha, but they still retain the form of the animal; and as the wine rolls with the swaying of the waggon, the legs and tails are set in motion, and look as if life were not quite extinct.

The road, shut in on either side by high vineyards, was almost impassable. Our horses sank at every step above their fetlocks, and my Cossack was soon unable to proceed. My little Arab, too, accustomed to the deserts of his native country, plunged and plunged until he became exhausted; and as the rain still fell, I bore up for an isolated Cossack station, midway between Telav and Signak [Sighnaghi]. At night the clouds rolled away, and a cold wind from the east blew over the Lesghian mountains with a biting keenness. But the next morning was again wet and cheerless, and not a gleam of sunshine burst through the cold grey sky. I took a circuit through the fields to avoid the road, which was cut up by the heavy waggons, but did not mend my case. I counted in one field which I crossed no less than twelve yoke of oxen and buffaloes attached to one single plough. On every yoke sat an urchin urging the poor animals on by cries and blows. 

At length we quitted the valley, and, winding round the base of a hill, on the summit of which stood Signak, we entered the town shortly after noon. I despatched my Cossack to the house of the governor of the district to request that a quarter might be assigned to me. The worthy man kindly invited me to take up my lodging at his house, and I was ushered into the most comfortable suite of rooms that I had seen for a long time. Female taste was evident in every arrangement, but the fair lady of the mansion was not visible. My host was a Russian, and spoke no other language, nor was an interpreter to be found in Signak. However, by dumb show, eked out by a few words of Russian which I had picked up, we got on amazingly well together; and, after a very welcome supper, I was glad to avail myself of the unusual luxury of a bed.

The view of present-day Sighnaghi, with the Alazani valley
and the Caucasus mountains in the background

Shortly before sunset the weather had, as usual, mended; and from the balcony I enjoyed a most magnificent view of the vale of Kakheti. Countless villages lay half-concealed among the vineyards which clothed the mountain side; and the Alazan, now swollen and discoloured, swept in graceful bends through the centre of the valley. The noble chain of Lesghian [Caucasus] Mountains, half-veiled in snow, was tinged with the most brilliant pink, which quickly melted away, and was succeeded by a grey, so cold that it drove me from the balcony to the comforts of a blazing hearth.

Richard Wilbraham, Travels in the Trans-Caucasian provinces of Russia (1839) - Part 3

After crossing the Caucasus mountains on 10 September (see part 2), Captain Richard Wilbraham spent next several days traveling across Kabarda before returning back to Tiflis in order to be present at the forthcoming visit of Emperor Nicholas.  He reached the Georgian capital on 25 September.

Prince Alexander Suvorov in 1850

September 26th. After breakfast I mounted one of my horses, which had quite picked up their condition during my absence, and cantered into town. Souvoroff - [Prince Alexander Suvorov, the grandson of the famed Field-marshal Alexander Suvorov, who had studied with Wilbraham at a Swiss school] companion" from a school] welcomed me most cordially, and, though we had known each other but slightly at Hofwyl [a school near Berne, Switzerland] , yet, in this remote spot, our old companionship soon ripened into intimacy. He, like myself, had been a wanderer since last we met; and, as we compared our adventures by sea and land, we looked back with pleasure and regret to those happy days when, with our knapsacks on our backs, we had climbed the hills of Switzerland. A young German professor belonging to the University of Weimar, who was visiting the provinces of the Caucasus in pursuit of his botanical researches, occupied the only vacant apartment in Souvoroff's house, which would otherwise have been at my disposal.

September 27th. Baroness Rosen was at home this evening, and Souvoroff persuaded me to accompany him to the palace. The party was small, and, the evening being fine, we assembled on the terrace in front of the drawing-room windows. The baroness, who is descended from one of the oldest families of Russia, is an exceedingly pompous old lady: the daughters are good-humoured German girls, with flaxen hair and fair complexions. The eldest, who had been lately married to the Prince Dadian, colonel of the grenadiers of Georgia, is a pretty blonde; but the Countess Simonich, with her sparkling eyes and raven hair, threw her Saxon companions quite into shade. The terrace overlooked the river Kour, and in the stillness of the night we could distinctly hear the ripple of the current. Large trays of the most delicious fruit were handed round, succeeded by tea. Music was proposed, but all were unwilling to exchange the evening freshness for the close saloon.

Monsieur Rodofinikin and General Valkhovsky, the chief of the staff, called upon me at the colony, and offered to find quarters for me in a more central situation. On the morrow I returned the general's visit, and was received with great civility. The quarters of a colonel of engineers adjoining his own house were fortunately vacant, and he placed them at my disposal. I willingly accepted the offer, and moved into my new house the same afternoon, for I had already found the distance from the town a great inconvenience, desirous, as I was, to enter into the society of the place. My sitting-room looked out upon the square where all parades were held, and behind the house was a small court where my stud was picketed. In case of rain there was a two-stalled stable for my own horses, and plenty of room for the remainder under a wattled shed.

The general kindly hoped that, when not otherwise engaged, I would join their family party, with whom he made me acquainted. Madame Valkhovsky is a very lady-like, pleasing person, with a retiring manner: she speaks English correctly, as indeed do all the inmates of the house, except the general. There is an aunt of her's who lives with them, a delightful old lady, born and educated in England, and quite English in her appearance. I never heard her name, for, according to Russian custom, every one called her "Anna Andrevna," Anne the daughter of Andrew. Then there was Mr. Feh, the general's aide-de-camp, who had also lived many years in England, to which he seemed to look back with pleasure. His history is curious, though by no means singular in Russia. He was in the civil service, and held a good appointment in Bessarabia, but, having killed his antagonist in an unfortunate duel, he was "destitue," as it is termed, and though, as I have said, not a military man, was condemned to serve as a private soldier in the army of Georgia. After ten years of service in the ranks, he has at length earned his epaulettes.

Now that I was fairly established in Tiflis, I began to enter into the society of the place, and there were several houses where I could always reckon on a good dinner and a cordial welcome. In the evening too many were glad to see their friends; and as the dinner-hour was early, and there were no public amusements in Tiflis, I often availed myself of this custom. Many of those whose houses I frequented were foreigners, who form a very large portion of the class of Russian employes. An adventurer, who styled himself the Baron Dieskau, who had the impudence to pass himself off for an English Elchee  among the Afghans, and the knavery to procure money in that character, expressed himself desirous of making my acquaintance - an honour which I declined, knowing rather more about him than he reckoned upon. He is an officer in the Russian service, into which he has been admitted since his doings in Afghanistan. Anyone, indeed, who has been in India, whatever may have been the cause of his quitting the country, is received by Baron Rosen into the Russian service.

I rode to New Tiflis to call upon Mr. Dittrich, with whom I had an interesting conversation on the subject of the German colonies. I was sorry to learn from him that they had not flourished as might have been anticipated. Many causes conduced to this: the unhealthy situation of some, the poverty of the land of others, and the want of capital of all. He also told me that great disunion prevailed among the colonists, principally from differences of religious opinion. The colony of New Tiflis consisted entirely of tradesmen or mechanics, the want of water forbidding their turning their attention to agriculture. Those who were masters of their art, or whose trade was lucrative, soon moved into the city, and scarcely any but the poor remained. Some few, indeed, make money by letting out carriages and horses, but the greater number earn a meagre subsistence by washing, selling milk and butter, and making hams and sausages.

Mr. Dittrich told me that the measures of the Russian government towards the colonists were liberal and judicious, and imputed their failure to circumstances not under its control.

The French consul is only allowed to receive the "Journal des Debats" on the condition of not showing it to any Russian subject. Whenever any article appears which is condemned in Petersburg the guilty number is enclosed in cartridge-paper, and sealed with the seal of the censorship, a sort of political quarantine. The "Petersburg Gazette," a scanty little sheet, containing no information, is the only paper seen in Georgia. Although Tiflis contains so large an European population it possesses no public library, nor indeed even a bookseller's shop. The only publications that I saw exposed for sale were Russian dictionaries, and a history of the campaign in Turkey, published by authority. In only one of the many houses that I was in did I see any symptoms of a book-case. Thus debarred from the only rational mode of employing their time, it is no wonder that the Russian officers should fall into those habits of gambling and dissipation so prevalent among them. With the exception of a few young men of good family, who have joined the army in Georgia in the hopes of distinguishing themselves in the only field now open to them, the officers are seldom gentlemen by birth or education, and disgraceful scenes not infrequently occur unnoticed, which in our service would justly cost a man his commission.

There is at Tiflis a gymnasium for the education of boys of all nations, in which much attention is paid to the study of Oriental languages, the knowledge of which is a certain stepping-stone to advancement in the Russian service. One young man who was studying at this gymnasium called frequently upon me. By birth he was a Hindoo, by religion a [Muslim], and whenever I had a vacant hour he would come and talk to me about his native country, which he sighed to revisit. There was also a young Egyptian, a clever little lad, at the same establishment.

September 29th. As I was returning from a late ride, a string of carriages before the palace-gates announced that there was a party at the Baroness Rosen's. I dressed, and went to make my bow. The ladies were drawn up in the most formal and formidable half circle that I ever faced, while the gentlemen at the other end of the apartment were following their own devices. Many of the ladies, indeed the larger number, were Georgians, in their national costume, a dress well calculated to disfigure the prettiest face and form. One gentleman alone had ventured within the magic circle, an aide-de-camp of the Emperor's, just arrived, who had been sent on before to see that the parades and guard-mounting were performed according to the latest fashions of the capital. He was a colonel of the Imperial Guards, a handsome, soldierlike man, agreeable, and well-informed. I followed his example, and attempted to engage some of my fair neighbours in conversation, but scarcely one of them understood any European language. It was very up-hill work, and I soon had had enough. In the ante-room I met young Count Shouvaloff [Shuvalov], whose acquaintance I had made at Petigorsky [Pyatigorsk], and whose manner had pleased me much. He is heir to one of the most princely fortunes in Russia, but has left the gaieties of the capital to win laurels in the Caucasus. He is quite enthusiastic in his admiration of Oriental customs and costumes, and seeks the society of the natives, especially the mountaineers.

October 1st. On Sunday I drove to the church of New Tiflis, a plain and unpretending building, lately erected by the Russian government. The church was very empty, perhaps in consequence of the bad weather, for a large portion of the congregation live on the other side of the river. Mr. Dittrich's manner is very impressive, and his silver locks and benevolent countenance heighten the effect of his eloquence. The service was admirably performed; and the voices of the young children, blending in the psalm with the deep bass of the men, produced a pleasing harmony.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Richard Wilbraham, Travels in the Trans-Caucasian provinces of Russia (1839) - Part 1

The future general and knight commander of the Order of the Bath, Richard Wilbraham was just a young captain when in the fall of 1837 he travelled across Iran and the Russian Empire on his way to Britain. He kept a detailed travel journal that was published as "Travels in the Trans-Caucasian Provinces of Russia" in London in 1839.

September 2nd [1837]. Immediately on quitting Soghanloo, a sudden bend of the road brought us within sight of the enormous military hospital of Tiflis, situated on the left bank of the river, a mile outside the town; and we soon entered the suburbs, passing through extensive vineyards, stretching to the high banks of the river. Hundreds of water-wheels, turned by the current of the Kour [Kura/Mtkvari River], raise the water in buckets to the level of these vineyards, through which it is carried in pipes. At the entrance of the town I was stopped by a barrier, which, on my presenting my passport, was immediately raised, and I descended a steep hill into the lower or native quarter of the town. This portion of Tiflis is completely Asiatic, both in architecture and costume, containing long rows of bazaars, thronged with Georgians and Armenians in their native dresses. On ascending the opposite hill the houses are better constructed and the streets wider; and the Russian quarter, which contains the governor's palace and the public offices, is laid out in spacious squares, and evinces a taste for showy architecture, with which the buildings of their modern capital have probably inspired them. At this moment the effect was more than usually striking, for every house had been fresh painted; and, in anticipation of the Emperor [Nicholas I]'s arrival, large buildings had been hastily run up to complete unfinished squares. Scaffolding was still seen round all the belfries and the house in which a grand ball was to be given to the Emperor was not yet roofed in. 

In spite of much which showed bad taste, I was particularly struck with the first view of Tiflis, and its picturesque situation. The broad and rapid Kour here winds through a narrow pass hemmed closely in by the hills on its right bank, and dividing the city from its suburbs. The houses rise in tiers from the water's edge, interspersed with terraces of gardens and large open squares, while on a spur of the overhanging mountain stand the dark ruins of an ancient castle erected by the Turks during their temporary reign in Georgia. On the left bank stands the modern citadel, based on the perpendicular rock washed by the current; and higher up the stream lies the German colony of New Tiflis. The country all around is dry and barren, and the situation of Tiflis exposes it to excessive heat during the summer and autumn. Every spring that has been found in the town is mineral, and the water of the Kour is alone used by the inhabitants.

I rode through the whole length of the town before I reached the palace of the governor. In the Russian quarter nine-tenths of those I met wore uniform, buttoned closely up to the chin, no very enviable dress in such a climate. Even the unfortunate clerk, who is nailed to his desk from morning till night, must comply with this vexatious custom. The numberless crosses and medals appended to almost every button-hole showed with what a lavish hand these decorations are bestowed in the Russian service.

I rode at once to the palace, and on announcing my name was ushered into a handsome suite of apartments, in one of which sat the Baron [General Gregory] Rosen, an old German soldier [and the Commander-in-Chief in the Caucasus], no enemy (unless report and his appearance both belie him) to good cheer. I cannot say much for the reception he gave me, the coolness of which I was at that moment somewhat at a loss to account for. I discovered, however, afterwards that the Emperor having expressed a wish that no foreigners should be in Georgia during his visit, my presence was most unwelcome to the Baron, who, on hearing from Persia that I was on my way to Tiflis, had written to prevent my passing the frontier; but I had already completed my quarantine, and, being once within the Russian territory, with passport duly signed, he could not take it upon himself to order me out of the country.

I mentioned to the Baron that I was desirous of visiting the provinces of Mingrelia and Imeretia, and begged that he would allow some trustworthy Cossack to accompany me; but the proposition was evidently unpalatable to him, and he evaded giving me an answer. I soon made my bow, and, attended by an orderly of the governor's, I went to the best hotel which Tiflis afforded, a miserable tavern kept by a Jew. My apartment, for which I paid an extravagant price, consisted of a large dirty room, with scarcely an article of furniture, for myself, and two small closets for my servants. The stabling was still worse.

I called for a droshky [drozhki], a low four-wheeled vehicle in use throughout Russia, and drove to the house of the Countess Simonich, the wife of the Russian ambassador [Ivan Simonich] at Tehran, to whom I had brought letters. The Countess is a very ladylike woman, with great remains of beauty, though mother of a large family. She is a Georgian by birth [nee Anna Amilakhvari], and speaks, besides her native language, no other but Russian. Her eldest daughter, "La Comtesse Marie," a lovely girl of about fourteen, served as our interpreter. Several other children, of different ages, (all with the beautiful dark eyes of their mother,) were playing in the long corridor. The Countess spent some years in Persia with her husband, but had quitted the country before my arrival.

I next called upon Monsieur [Constantine] Rodofinikin, the [acting] Minister for Foreign Affairs, who had evidently received his instructions from the Baron regarding my wish to visit the shores of the Black Sea. On my broaching the subject, he expressed his regret that it was quite impossible at that time, since the Baron had received accounts of the breaking out of the plague in those countries, and that a "cordon sanitaire" had been established on this side of Koutais [Kutaisi]. This was evidently a mere pretense; but, as I well knew that if I persisted they would find some means of detaining me, I told Monsieur Rodofinikin that I would cross the Caucasus, and remain at the warm baths of Petigorsky until the arrival of the Emperor. In this scheme I was promised every assistance.

September 3rd. There being a grand parade on every Sunday morning, I received an invitation from the governor-general to witness it, especially as this was the anniversary of the Emperor's coronation. I declined, however, for I was desirous of attending service in the church of the German colony of New Tiflis, on the opposite side of the Kour. Although the church was almost opposite my inn, I was obliged to ride a long way through the town to the foot of the castle, where the only bridge stands, and then through the Georgian suburbs to the colony. The bridge is of a single arch, erected upon the ruined foundations of a very ancient one. The river at this point is exceedingly rapid, and full of whirlpools. Beyond the bridge I was delayed for some time by meeting a regiment of infantry on its way to the parade. I was surprised at the cleanliness and soldierlike appearance of the men, whose dark uniform and black accoutrements reminded me of my old corps. After passing the bridge you enter a dirty street overrun with pigs, of which my horses, like good Mahomedans, had an invincible abhorrence, jumping from one side of the street to the other to avoid them. This quarter is peopled principally by Germans, and there is an inn to which I had been recommended, kept by a German also; but, judging from the exterior, it does not seem to possess the national virtue of cleanliness. The remainder of the road to the colony winds among the subterranean habitations of the Georgians, swarming with children, while the women, handsome but slatternly, sit in groups around their doors. The colony presents a striking contrast to this scene. A broad level road passes between two rows of neatly white-washed cottages, with their small gardens round them, and the inhabitants, in their holiday garb, were pouring forth to chapel. The women, with their sandy hair and freckled faces, their prim caps and short waisted gowns, could not indeed contest the palm of beauty with their dark-eyed and voluptuous neighbours; but their neat and homely appearance was quite refreshing to an eye accustomed to the slovenly garb of Eastern women.

I learned that the worthy rector of New Tiflis, Mr. Dittrich, had not yet returned from the baths, which his delicate health had obliged him to visit; and as it was doubtful whether service would be performed this morning, I cantered on to the small colony of Alexander's Dorf, a few miles higher up the river. At the very extremity of the village, in a small chapel of the rudest construction, the service had already commenced. The pastor, a homely but well-educated man, was expounding, with clearness and energy, a portion of the scripture. The singing particularly pleased me: there was a simple harmony in it unfortunately rare in our churches. The whole congregation joined in the psalm apparently with heart and voice.

On my return to Tiflis etiquette required that I should make my bow to the governor-general on this their festival. The royal salute from the castle reminded me of this duty, and I rode on to the palace, where a large concourse of officers had assembled to attend the Baron's levee. On the governor's right hand was seated the primate of the Greek Church, the spiritual head of both the Russians and Georgians. I was not a little surprised to see several decorations suspended to his dress, while the broad ribbon of St. Stanislas was plainly seen beneath the folds of his mantle. On the other side of the governor sat the Baron [Paul von] Hahn, a Courlander, the head of a commission lately sent into Georgia to inquire into all abuses. I sat next to the Baron, and found him a gentleman-like, intelligent man, well versed in European languages and literature. 

The levee was formal enough, and I soon made my exit, and drove to visit the Countess [Simonich]. According to the custom of her countrywomen, she was whiling away the afternoon by a rubber at whist. The indolence and want of all resource of Georgian women is proverbial: I am told that they rarely open a book, and they abandon the whole care of the household to their servants.

On a Sunday afternoon the balconies of Tiflis present an animated scene. The fair Georgians, partially concealed by their long white mantillas, assemble there in groups, to see and to be seen. At that distance they look pretty and fascinating.

September 4th. Early this morning Monsieur Rodofinikin called upon me with a "feuille de route" for the warm baths, and recommended me to the German colony as the most likely place to find a carriage. At first I turned away with disdain from the crazy, antiquated vehicles that were shown to me; but seeing that there was no possibility of finding a carriage to suit my English notion of neatness, I was fain to recommence my search, and decided upon a long lumbering britschka without springs, warranted to stand the roads of the Caucasus. As any of my own servants would have been worse than useless on such an expedition, I resolved to leave them with my horses at the German colony, and to hire a colonist who understood Russian. Dr. Riach had mentioned to me the name of a man likely to suit me, and I soon found him out. Peter Ney is a wonderful linguist for a man in his class of life, and is a versatile genius besides, following alternately the trades of carpenter, shoemaker, brewer, schoolmaster, and gentleman's valet: yet, with all these talents, Peter is always as poor as Job, and was delighted at the idea of accompanying me. 

September 5th. Immediately on getting up this morning I went to the warm baths, from which Tiflis takes its name. There are two large establishments, both situated in the Asiatic quarter of the town. I was shown into a room in which were three reservoirs of different temperature. The one, which is of the natural heat of the water as it issues from the rock, was quite unbearable; I could not even keep my hand in it. The water is clear, but strongly impregnated with sulphur.

I dined with the Count de la Rati-Menton, the French Consul, who is living at the " pension" of an old soldier of Napoleon, who having taken unto himself a German wife, has settled in the colony. Old Paul is a privileged man, and takes his share in the conversation as he waits upon his guests. His made-dishes are dignified with French names, but, alas, they savour more of the barrack than of the Palais Royal. I met at the Count's a French gentleman of the name of Tessert, who has the superintendence of a newly-erected silk-manufactory.

September 6th. I had intended starting this afternoon, but no post-horses were to be had; and, after being put off from hour to hour, I was told that I must wait until the morning. I took the precaution of hiring a vacant apartment in Paul's house, lest I might have some difficulty in finding a quarter during the Emperor's stay; and I placed my servants and horses under the care of the French consul. I found that the change from barley and chopped straw to oats and hay had brought my horses into bad condition, so I made arrangements for procuring their accustomed food. As I passed the house where my friend Dr. Riach had resided for some months, I stopped to have a chat with his landlord and landlady, of whose kindness he had made mention. The worthy couple were quite delighted to hear of their lodger, who, they agreed, was a "ganz lieber mann," and had but one fault, that of not speaking German. 

[...]