Well, after all, it is a very good thing when one has long been deprived

of all the comforts and conveniences of life, to come upon them again in

full measure, and slide back into one's old habits; to pass from the

Kalmuck kibitka to a lordly mansion,--from the horrible flat cake of

unleavened dough to fresh bread every day--from the wearisome march of

the camels to the repose of the divan--from the monotony of the steppes

to all the comforts of civilised life. It is really a very good thing,

especially if one has the rare good fortune to enjoy, in addition to all

these pleasures, the hospitality of a most friendly and engaging family.

In fact, what gives the most racy zest to travelling is precisely these

contrasts that await you at every step, and which enable you to

appreciate matters justly by comparison; for after all what is a good

dinner to one who dines well every day? What are a divan, books, music,

pictures, to the privileged being who has them always before him? More

than half his time is spent in yawning at the chimney corner; music

wearies him; reading makes his eyes ache; his cook is a dull blockhead,

and has no invention! Oh, the weary dreary lot of the wealthy man! But

let some good genius suddenly whisk him off into the heart of the

desert; let him be forced to wash down his biscuit with brackish water

from the standing pool, to count on his falcon's quarry for his dinner,

to lie on the hard ground, to bear rain, wind, and dust, to hear only

the cries of camels, and see only Kalmuck faces; and afterwards, when he

returns to all the good things he despised before, he will be heard

exclaiming in the joy of his heart, "Oh! what a pleasant thing it is to

eat, sleep, and dream; what a very comfortable life this is!"

Vladimirofka is one of the finest properties I have seen in Russia. The

whole economy of this magnificent establishment bespeaks the enlarged

and enlightened views of its master. It is about fifty years since M.

Rebrof laid the first foundations of his colony, undismayed by the

obstacles and dangers he encountered in all shapes. He wished to make

profitable use of the fine waters of the Kouma, which had never before

been bridled in their course by man; and now several mills, set up by

him, enliven the whole neighbourhood by their continual din. The

mildness of the climate has allowed him to make numerous plantations of

mulberries, which have perfectly succeeded, and to establish factories,

the productions of which may vie with the finest silks of Provence.

Another manufacture which he is carrying on with great spirit is that of

Champagne wine. He sends every year at least 10,000 bottles to Moscow,

and sells them at the rate of four rubles a bottle. By dint of energy

and perseverance he has called up life and abundance in a wild

uncultivated spot, which before had served only for the temporary halts

of the Kalmucks and Turcomans. Many peasants whom he brought with him

from Great Russia, and who had been habituated to an almost savage state

of existence, have been transformed by him into good workmen,

industrious husbandmen, and, on occasion, into soldiers devoted to their

master.

In 1835, some three-score Circassians, tempted by the hope of a rich

booty, made a descent from their mountains to sack and pillage

Vladimirofka, expecting to surprise the little village population by

night, and to find them wholly unprepared. But though M. Rebrof had

enjoyed complete security for many years, he had never deceived himself

as to the dangers of his position, but always expected to be attacked

sooner or later; and, therefore, he had from the first taken all

possible precautions against the designs of his formidable neighbours.

Two branches of the Kouma served as fosses for the village and the

chateau; there was a small redoubt with two pieces of cannon commanding

the most exposed side, and in a room on the ground-floor of the mansion

there was a well-stocked armoury, with all things requisite for

sustaining a siege. With these means, M. Rebrof felt confident he could

resist any attack.

Every night two sentinels kept watch until dawn, and it was this

seemingly superfluous measure that saved Vladimirofka from total

destruction. The Circassians, never reckoning on such extreme caution,

arrived one night in face of the village, and felt sure that their

approach was unsuspected. But the alarm had been already given, and the

whole population, suddenly aroused out of their sleep, were ready for

the fight. Arms were distributed to the workpeople and servants, the

drawbridges were raised, the two cannons were loaded with grape, and the

chateau was transformed into a fortress. All this was done with such

rapidity, that when the Circassians came to the banks of the river, they

found the village in a perfect state of defence. They attempted,

however, to swim their horses over the Kouma, but were repulsed by a

brisk fire. Three or four other attempts were equally unsuccessful; all

points were so well guarded, and the men did their duty so well, that

the Circassians were obliged to retreat at break of day. But enraged at

their disappointment, they set fire to the village and the surrounding

woods, and escaped unmolested, under cover of the conflagration, without

its being discovered what direction they took.

As an economist and administrator, M. Rebrof may be compared with the

most eminent men of Europe, and his manufacturing enterprises are the

more meritorious, as he is destitute of the aid of books. Knowing only

his own language, which is very poor in such practical works as would

suit his purposes, he has nothing but a few bad translations of French

and German works, which would be of little avail but for his own

superior sagacity.

His gardens are filled with all the fruits of Europe, and with several

kinds of grapes, from which he derives a large profit. Among these I

particularly noticed the Schiras grape, which has no stones. Nor must I

forget his excellent _oeil de perdrix_ wine, which he set before us

every day after dinner, with the pride of a manufacturer. Nothing could

exceed his satisfaction on hearing us compare it with the best vintages

of France, as we did in all sincerity on our first arrival. Afterwards

our enthusiasm cooled down a little; but it did not matter; our host was

still persuaded that his wine could compete with the best made in

Champagne.

It was painful to us to quit Vladimirofka. Had the season been less

advanced, we would willingly have remained there another week; but we

had still to visit the Caucasus, and September was drawing to a close.

We had, therefore, to make haste and profit by the fine weather that

still remained for us. M. Rebrof's horses conveyed us to Bourgon Madjar,

a property belonging to General Skaginsky. It is situated on the Kouma,

about thirty versts from Vladimirofka, like which, it possesses fine

woods and beautiful scenery. It was our intention only to change horses

there, but the steward, who had been expecting us for two days,

determined otherwise, and to please him we were constrained to lose two

days in his company. Our complaisance would not have extended so far had

our choice been free; but the moment we entered his doors he told us

very positively we should have no horses until the day after the morrow.

It was to no purpose we raved and entreated; we were forced to submit to

a tyranny that was more flattering than agreeable. The difficulty of

understanding each other without an interpreter added to our

embarrassment and ill-humour. The whole conversation on the first day

was made up of two words _mozhna_ (you can stay), and _nilza_ (it is

impossible). But setting aside the loss of two days, which were then

very precious, I must allow that our time passed agreeably, and our host

did his best to entertain us.

The first day was spent in seeing the buildings, gardens, vineyards,

mills, and all that was under the immediate management of the steward.

Every thing was in as excellent order as if the whole of the fine

property had been constantly under the master's eye. But General

Skaginsky hardly ever visits it, contenting himself with the receipt of

the proceeds, which amount to about 20,000 rubles. The stable contains

some capital saddle horses, that tempted us to make a long excursion

through the forest. We also saw antelopes almost tame, and of exquisite

beauty. Whole herds of them are sometimes found in this part of the

steppes. The woods adjacent to the Kouma also contain deer and wild

boars. The steward pressed hard for one day more that he might get up a

hunt for us, but we would not hear of it, and answered with so

peremptory a _nilza_ that he was obliged to submit to what he called our

obstinacy.

His anxiety to retain us may be easily accounted for by the extreme

loneliness in which he lives. He is a Pole by birth, and has known a

different condition from that of a steward, as his tastes prove. He is a

poet, a musician, and a wit--three qualities singularly at variance with

his calling. But as he is alone, and has no superior to control his

tastes, he may meditate, Virgil in hand, on the charms of rural life. A

guitar, a few select books, and the visitations of the muse, enable him

to nourish an intellectual existence amidst all his prosaic occupations.

After quitting Bourgon Madjar we passed through the place where formerly

stood the celebrated Madjar, whose past is still a problem for

historians. Nothing remains of it, not even a few bricks to attest its

former existence. The Russians have carried it away piecemeal to build

their villages. We now rapidly approached the Caucasus; the Elbrouz (the

highest mountain of the chain) from time to time gave us a glimpse of

its majestic head, almost always wrapped in mist, as if to conceal it

from profane eyes. Tradition informs us that Noah's dove alighted on its

summit, and there plucked the mystic branch which afterwards became the

Christian symbol of peace and hope. Hence the mountain is held in high

veneration by all the races of the Caucasus: Christians, idolaters, and

Mussulmans, all agree in regarding it as holy.

We were now in an enchanted region, though but just beyond the verge of

the steppes. The faint lines discernible in the sky assumed gradually

more distinct form and colour; the mountains appeared to us first as

light, transparent vapours, floating upon the wind; but by degrees this

airy phantasmagoria changed into mountains clothed with forests, deep

gorges and domes crowned with mists. We met several horsemen in the

Circassian garb, whose manly beauty afforded us examples of the noble

Caucasian race. Our minds were almost overwhelmed with a multitude of

emotions, excited by the exuberant nature before us, the magnificent

vegetation, and the varied hues of the forests and mountains, peaks,

crags, ravines, and snowy summits. It was beautiful, superbly beautiful,

and then it was the Caucasus! The Caucasus, a name associated with so

many grand historic memories, with the earliest traditions and most

fabulous creeds; the abode, in the morning of the world, of families

whence issued so many great nations. Round it hangs all the vague poetry

of the ages visible only to the imagination, through the mysterious veil

of antiquity.

What a sad thing it was in the midst of all our ecstatic enthusiasm, to

be obliged to descend to the vulgar concerns of locomotion, and to be

crossed and thwarted at every step. We were more than ten versts from

Georgief, when we were stopped in a village by the perversity of a

postmaster, who refused to let us have horses at any price. It was

raining in torrents, and the mud in the village was like a quagmire. The

Cossack and Anthony ran about among all the peasants, trying to prevail

on them to hire us horses; but the Russians are so lazy that they would

rather lose an opportunity of earning money than quit their sweet

repose. At last, after four hours search, the two men came back with

three wretched hacks they had carried off by force from different

peasants. For want of a roof to shelter us we had been obliged to sit

all that while in the britchka, and when the miserable team was yoked it

could hardly draw us out of the mud in which the wheels were embedded.

The road all the way to Georgief was the most detestable that could be

imagined. The weather cleared up a little, but the rain had converted

all the low plains through which we had to pass into marshes, and had

rendered the bridges all but impassable. Steep and very narrow descents

often obliged us to alight at the risk of leaving our boots in the mud,

and for a long while we feared we should not reach Georgief that day.

Finally, however, by dint of flogging, our coachman forced the horses up

the last hill, and at seven in the evening we reached a wide plateau, at

one end of which towered the fortress that commands the road to the

Caucasus.

We had been told that we should find a fair going on in Georgief, and

this accounted for the number of horsemen we saw proceeding like

ourselves in that direction. I must confess in all humility, that I did

not feel quite at my ease whenever one of these groups passed close to

our carriage. The bad weather, the darkness, the bold bearing of these

mountaineers, and their arms half concealed under their black bourkas,

made me rather nervous. We arrived, however, safe and sound in Georgief,

where we enjoyed our repose and sipped our tea with a zest known only to

way-worn travellers.

Whilst we were thus enjoying ourselves, the tinkling of a pereclatnoi

bell in the yard announced a fresh arrival. But we gave ourselves very

little concern about the event, for in order to be the more at our ease,

we had engaged the travellers' room for ourselves alone. In travelling,

people grow selfish, in spite of themselves; and in Russia it is a very

lucky chance indeed that enables you now and then to display that

quality. We therefore paid no heed to the tinklings that seemed with

increasing vehemence to demand shelter for the late coming pilgrim. In a

few moments there was a loud hubbub at our door, and we heard Anthony's

voice stoutly refusing admission into our sanctuary. The postmaster

seemed to play but a negative part, venturing only to say now and then,

in the humblest tone, "_Ne mozhna polkovnick_" (it is not possible,

colonel). A deluge of _douraks_, and a few fisticuffs distributed right

and left, put an end to the discussion; the door was flung open, and a

tall individual, muffled up to the nose, rushed in furiously, halted

suddenly, made an awkward bow, and skipped out of the room again,

without attempting even to profit by his victory. Amazed at this sudden

retreat, Anthony hastily closed the door he had so bravely defended, and

then told us that this officer had refused to listen to a word of

explanation, and had threatened, if they provoked him, to turn us all

into the street, and take our places. This did not in the least surprise

us, for in Russia it is a matter of course for a colonel to behave thus

to his inferiors, and as this officer was not aware of our being

foreigners, he had behaved in the usual peremptory fashion; but he had

been taken aback on discovering that we were something else than village

pometchiks, and his tone became changed accordingly in the comical

manner aforesaid. We were highly diverted by his discomfiture, and to

punish his blustering, we let him go and seek a lodging elsewhere.

He had not been gone half an hour when another officer drove into the

yard, and with more moderation than his predecessor, took up his

quarters in the kitchen, which was divided by a thin partition from our

room. He was no sooner installed, than the silence was again broken by

loud cracks of a whip, and the poor postmaster was at his wits' end. We

paid no attention to this incident until our curiosity was excited by

hearing some words of French, accompanied by peals of laughter; and on

listening we heard the whole of our late adventure narrated in the most

amusing manner, the story being interspersed with keen remarks on the

unaccountable propensity of some women for travelling, and filling up

every hotel. Of course we recognised in the orator the hero of the

adventure himself. Having knocked in vain at all the doors in Georgief,

he found he could do no better than return to the confounded station,

and take his chance of sleeping in the stable; but hearing that a

comrade had taken up his abode in the kitchen, he had determined to beg

leave to join him. All this, be it observed, was said in French, to

prevent our understanding it; this was amusing enough; but the

conversation soon became so confidential, that we were obliged to raise

our voices, as a hint to our neighbours to speak Russian. They did

nothing all night but smoke, drink tea, and talk.

Next day, having ascertained that we were French, they sent the

postmaster to us, begging we would allow them to come and apologise for

the inconvenience they had caused us. We found them well-bred gentlemen,

and we had a good laugh together at the strange manner in which our

mutual acquaintance had taken place. We all left the station nearly

together. After breakfasting with us, they set out, one of them for

Persia, the other for the north. For ourselves, as we intended to stop

some days in Georgief, until the roads should have become drier, we

accepted the invitation of the governor of the fortress to reside with

him. The mud was so deep in the yard of the post-house, that we were

obliged to have a bridge of planks made for us to the carriage, and the

grooms and the persons who had occasion to enter the house, had to cross

the yard on horseback. In passing through the street we saw an

unfortunate peasant sunk up to his middle, and making prodigious efforts

to extricate his cart and oxen.

Our hospitable and obliging entertainer, the general, told us many

particulars respecting the tribes of the Caucasus, and we saw at his

table a great number of Kabardian chiefs whom the fair had brought to

Georgief. There was one among them whose handsome, grave features, and

somewhat wild appearance, excited our curiosity; and the general

perceiving this, told us all he knew about the man. I will relate the

story as nearly as possible in his own words.

"About two years ago I was ordered to make a tour of inspection among

the friendly tribes of the Caucasus, and had nearly completed it, when

arriving one evening near an aoul situated on a mountain, the summit of

which you can see from here, I noticed that the village was in great

commotion. Being accompanied by a detachment of Cossacks, I had no need

to be apprehensive about the result, happen what might; still I thought

it advisable to take some precautions, and settled with the commanding

officer of the detachment what was to be done if we were attacked. I

then got on a few hundred paces ahead of the party, and advanced softly,

like an _eclaireur_, to a place where the whole population was

assembled. As it was rather dark, and I was covered with a bourka, no

one took any notice of me, and I was allowed to make my observations

without impediment.

"When my eyes had grown more familiarised with the objects about me, I

perceived that the crowd was gathered round the ruins of a house that

seemed to have been very recently burned down. Though ignorant of what

had happened, I felt certain that the burning was connected with some

deed of violence and bloodshed, for I had long known these mountaineers,

whose violent passions are kept in constant excitement by the false

position in which they are placed both as to the Russians, whom they

detest while they submit to their power, and with regard to the free

tribes, who cannot forgive them for their compulsory submission. On

inspecting the various groups more narrowly, I saw a Kabardian lying on

the ground, with his cloak drawn over his face, while every one gazed on

him with a respectful pity. Puzzled still more to know what this meant,

and not seeing any reason why I might not make myself known, I was about

to put some questions to the person next me, when the sound of

approaching hoofs called off the attention of the crowd in another

direction. It was my party, who had become uneasy about me, and had

quickened their march. The mountaineers all clustered round my soldiers,

but without any such hostile demonstrations as we had encountered in the

other aouls. Every body seemed under the influence of some unusual

feeling, that made him forget for the while the hatred which the mere

sight of a Cossack awakens among these people.

"I issued the necessary orders for the encampment of my party, and when

all was made safe for the night, I returned to the spot where my

curiosity had been so strongly excited; and there lay the mountaineer

still stretched on the ground, looking like a corpse under the black

bourka that covered him. Several women sat round him, and one of them,

who was very young, and seemed less distressed than the others, at last

satisfied my impatience, and told me a tale which was confirmed by the

whole population of the village.

"The person I saw stretched on the ground before the ashes of his own

house, was the chief of the aoul, and belonged to a princely family,

living independently amidst their own mountains. At the age of twenty he

unfortunately became his elder brother's rival, and in order to possess

the wife of his choice, he had carried her off, and settled under the

protection of Russia. This latter act, the most infamous of which a

mountaineer can be guilty when he commits it of his own accord, remained

a long while unpunished during the wars between Russia and the tribes.

For fifteen years nothing occurred to make the refugee suppose that his

brother thought of him at all. The wife had died a few years after the

elopement, leaving him a daughter, who grew up so beautiful, that the

whole tribe called her the Rose of the Mountain.

"Now on the day before my arrival in the aoul, four independent

mountaineers had visited the chief as friends, and told him that his

brother was dead, and that he might now return home without any fear of

danger. The strangers spent the night under his roof, and did all they

could to persuade him to accompany them; but next day, finding they

could make no impression on his mind, they set fire to his house,

stabbed him in several places, and seizing his daughter, galloped away

before any one was prepared to pursue them. Most of the inhabitants were

a-field at the time, and when I came up at dusk it was too late to think

of overtaking the assassins. Although I was assured that the man was

dead, I had him carried to a house, where every possible care was

bestowed upon him. In about an hour he became conscious, and there

appeared some hope of saving him. Our acquaintance, which began in so

dramatic a manner, afterwards became as intimate as it could be between

a Russian general and a Caucasian chief.

"But for a long while my influence over the mind of the unfortunate

father was totally unable to overcome the despair and thirst of

vengeance occasioned by the abduction of his daughter. At the head of

the most determined men of his aoul and of some Cossacks, he thrice

endeavoured to force his way into that part of the mountain where his

kindred resided; but these attempts led to nothing but desperate

conflicts and fierce reprisals. He was about making a fourth attempt

about two months ago, when we were informed by a spy that the Rose of

the Mountain had been sent to Trebisond, to become the ornament of some

harem in Constantinople.

"From that time a gradual change took place in the savage temper of the

Kabardian; the idea that his daughter was no longer in the hated

mountains, was balm to his wounds. He attached himself to the society of

the officers of the garrison, who had become warmly interested in his

history. At his own request I have solicited an appointment for him in

his majesty's imperial guard, and I hope he will soon be far away from

scenes that remind him of such terrible disasters."

CHAPTER XXIX.

ROAD FROM GEORGIEF TO THE WATERS OF THE CAUCASUS--A POLISH

LADY CARRIED OFF BY CIRCASSIANS--PIATIGORSK--KISLOVODSK--

HISTORY OF THE MINERAL WATERS OF THE CAUCASUS.

From Georgief we set out for Piatigorsk, the chief watering place of the

Caucasus, and travelled for three hours over a dreary plain, with

nothing for the eye to rest on but here and there a long conical mound,

that scarcely broke the dull monotony of the landscape; and even these

were scarcely visible through the foggy atmosphere. We felt, therefore,

a depression of spirits we had never known in our previous journeyings,

and it was still more increased by the thought that we might fall in

with those Circassians whose very name strikes terror into the Russians.

The two Cossacks whom the commandant of Georgief had given us for

escort, were not the sort of men to assuage our fears, for they seemed

themselves very much possessed with a sense of the dangers we were

incurring. Their visages grew very serious indeed when we had left the

plain behind us, and the road began to skirt along a deep valley, with

the waters of the Pod Kouma brawling at the bottom. They were constantly

peering in every direction, as if they expected every moment to fall

into an ambuscade. Presently they stopped, and called our dragoman to

show him a spot on which their eyes seemed riveted. One of them began to

talk with great volubility, and from his expressive gestures it was

evident he was relating some tragic event of which that spot had been

witness. And so, indeed, it was. Anthony informed us that on the very

spot where we stood, a young Polish lady had been assailed the year

before by several mountaineers, who lay in wait for her in the bed of

the torrent. She was on her way to the waters of Kislovodsk, accompanied

by an escort and two or three servants. Her followers were massacred or

dispersed, her carriage was rifled, and she herself was carried off and

never heard of again, notwithstanding the most active exertions to

ascertain her fate. One of the Cossacks, who had escaped by miracle from

the balls of the Circassians, galloped off to Georgief, and returned

within a few hours to the scene of the catastrophe, accompanied by a

detachment of cavalry. They found the carriage broken to pieces, and

plundered of all its contents; and the ground was strewed with bodies

horribly mutilated and stripped of their arms, but neither the body of

the young lady nor that of her waiting-maid was among them. It is to be

presumed that the Circassians carried them off to their aoul, as the

richest spoils of their bloody expedition.

The story of this recent tragedy, related on the very spot where it had

occurred, made no slight impression upon us; my dismay, therefore, may

be imagined, when a sudden clearing up of the fog enabled us to

distinguish at a distance of a hundred yards from the road, what seemed

but too palpable a realisation of my fearful fancies. There was no room

for doubt. The men before us were those terrible Circassians I had

trembled at the thought of meeting. The scream that escaped me, when I

caught sight of them, was fortunately heard by one of our Cossacks, who

immediately relieved my mind by the assurance that these were men of a

friendly tribe. Nevertheless, in spite of my conviction that we had no

hostilities to apprehend, it was not without some secret uneasiness I

saw them defile past us. The troop was a small one, five or six at most,

yet they looked dangerous enough. I shall never forget the glances they

cast on our Cossacks as they rode by, though it was only in looks they

manifested the hatred that rankled in their hearts against every thing

belonging to Russia. They were all fully armed. Their pistols and their

damasked poniards glittered from beneath their black bourkas. I confess

I was best pleased with their appearance when they were just vanishing

from sight on the top of a hill, where their martial figures were

relieved against the sky. Seen through the mist, they set me thinking of

Ossian's heroes.

We continued to wind our way slowly up a steep and narrow track, and for

half an hour we did not see a cabin or a living creature except some

vultures of the largest kind, flying silently above our heads. At last

we reached the culminating point of the road, whence we could look down

on the valley, Piatigorsk, the villas scattered over the heights, and

all the details of a delightful landscape, that seemed as if it had

dropped by chance amongst the stern and majestic scenes of the Caucasian

Alps. From thence we had a gentle descent of about a verst to the

outskirts of Piatigorsk.

It is only within the last ten or twelve years that it has been possible

to travel in carriages to Piatigorsk without extreme risk, partly on

account of the hostility of the Circassians, and partly in consequence

of the state of the roads. The latter have been improved, and a great

number of military posts have been established on them, so that now the

waters of the Caucasus are annually frequented by more than 1500

persons, who visit them from all parts of the empire for health or

pleasure. Catastrophes have become more and more rare, and since that

which I have mentioned no other event of the kind has occurred.

On arriving at Piatigorsk we took up our abode with the principal

doctor, for whom we had letters, and who received us in the most

obliging manner. Unluckily we had abominable weather during the whole

time of our stay, and the mountains we had come so far to see were

hidden from our eyes by an impenetrable veil of mist. We could just

discern from our windows the base of the Bechtau, at a distance of but

two versts. Our first visit was to the Alexandra spring, so called after

the name of the empress. The waters are sulphurous, and their

temperature is above 38 degrees Reaumur. The bathing establishment is on

a very large scale, and contains every thing requisite for the

frequenters of the waters. Other thermal springs are found on most of

the heights about Piatigorsk, and the works that have been constructed

to afford access to them do credit to the government. On one of the

highest peaks there is an octagonal building, consisting of a cupola

supported on light columns, which are surrounded at their base by an

elegant balustrade. The interior, which is open to all the winds,

contains an aeolian harp, the melancholy notes of which descend to the

valley, mingled with all the echoes of the mountains. Doctor Conrad, our

host, was the author of this pretty design. Being like most Germans

passionately fond of music, he felt assured that those airy sounds,

coming as it were from the sky, would have a most salutary influence on

the minds of his patients. The little temple, surnamed the pavilion of

AEolus, must be a favourite spot for those who are fond of reverie and

lonely contemplation of the sublime scenes of nature. The view from it

is of great beauty, but in order to judge of it we should have been more

favoured by the weather; but the glowing description given us by our

good doctor made some amends for our mischance. I must own, too, that

the trouble we took in ascending was not altogether unrequited, for the

vague and mysterious outlines of mountains and forests clothed in mists

were not without their charms.

There are several natural and artificial grottoes in various parts of

the mountain, affording cool retreats in the sultry season, and an

amusing spectacle to those who sit and watch the company proceeding to

and from the baths. The physiognomist may there behold the most varied

types of features, from those of the Tatar prince of the Crimea to those

of the fair Georgian from Tiflis. Society in Russia has one rare

advantage, inasmuch as it is free from that fatiguing monotony which

pursues us in almost all European countries.

The handsomest quarter of Piatigorsk is at the bottom of the valley,

where there is a promenade, with fine trees and seats, flanked on either

side by a line of handsome houses backed against the cliffs. The

permanent population consists only of the civil servants of the

government, the garrison, and a few incurable invalids. The crown

buildings are numerous, including, besides the bathing establishment, a

Greek church, a very large hotel for strangers, a concert hall, a

charitable institution, a hospital for wounded officers from the

Caucasus, barracks, &c.

On the whole, Piatigorsk is not so much a town as a delightful

assemblage of country-houses, inhabited for some months of the year by a

rich aristocracy. Every thing about it is pretty and trim, and displays

those tokens of affluence which the Russian nobles like to see around

them. There is nothing there to offend the eye or sadden the heart, no

poor class, no cabins, no misery. It is a fortunate spot, intended to

exhibit to the ladies and princes, courtiers, and generals of the

empire, none but pleasing images, culled from all that is attractive in

nature and art. What wonder, then, if the annals of the place abound in

marvellous cures! The doctor, who is a shrewd man, having perhaps his

doubts of the sole efficacy of the waters, has done his part to render

Piatigorsk an earthly Paradise; but it must be admitted that his views

have been perfectly understood and promoted by the emperor, who is

always disposed to display magnificence in the most superficial things.

Luxurious refinement has here been pushed so far, that the fair and

exceedingly indolent dames of Moscow and St. Petersburg may repair to

their baths without alighting from their stylish equipages; and yet the

springs are almost all of them several hundred yards above the valley.

What peasants' _corvees_, what an amount of toil and suffering do these

commodious roads represent! None but the Russian government is capable

of such acts of gallantry!

Though the watering season was over when we arrived, the doctor had

still a few patients residing with him, who added much, to the pleasure

of our evening meetings. Among these was a young officer, who had

returned with two severe wounds from an expedition against the

Circassians. The accounts he gave us of his campaign, and of the

terrible episodes he had witnessed, often made us shudder. The Russians

paid dearly for the conquest of some burnt villages. They lost half

their men, and 120 officers. One of the friends of our invalid picked up

a pretty little Circassian girl, whose mother had been killed before his

eyes. Pitying the fate of the poor orphan, the officer carried her away

on his horse, and on reaching Piatigorsk, he placed her in a

boarding-school kept by some French ladies. We went to see her, and were

charmed with her beauty, which promised to sustain her country's

reputation in that respect.

As the weather was not favourable to long excursions, we passed a week

of quiet social enjoyment in the doctor's house; but one fine morning

the sun, which we had completely forgotten, broke out through the fog,

and recalled us, perhaps against our will, to our adventurous habits.

Next day we set out for Kislovodsk, situated forty versts from

Piatigorsk, in the interior of the mountains, and possessing acid waters

of great reputation.

The road, on quitting Piatigorsk, passes at first along the wide and

deep valley of the Pod Kouma, which is bounded on the right by rocks

heaped on each other like petrified waves, and presenting, in their

outlines and rents, all the tokens of a _bouleversement_; whilst on the

left, beautiful wooded mountains ascend in successive stages to the

imposing chain of the Kasbeck. At the distance of about two hours'

travelling, the road leaves the valley, which has here become very

narrow, and runs on a long sinuous level ledge, parallel with the course

of the torrent, up to the point where it begins to enter the mountains,

and where the miry soil through which our horses laboured with great

difficulty, the grey sky and moist atmosphere that had hitherto

accompanied us, were at once exchanged for dryness, cold, dust, and sun.

This sudden contrast is a phenomenon peculiar to elevated regions, and

had been foretold us by our host, who is very learned in all that

concerns the atmospheric variations of his beloved mountains.

Nothing I have before attempted to describe could compare with the wild

and picturesque scenery of this part of the Caucasus. At certain

intervals we saw conical mounds of earth about sixty feet high, serving

as watch-towers, on which sentinels are stationed day and night. Their

outlines, relieved against the cloudy sky, produces a singular effect

amidst the solitude around them. The sight of these Cossacks, with

muskets shouldered, pacing up and down the small platform on the summit

of each eminence, made us involuntarily own our gratitude to the

Russian government for having cleared this country, and rendered access

to it so easy for invalids and tourists.

Although it was the middle of October, the vegetation was still quite

fresh. Rich green swards covering the steep slopes of the mountains,

afforded abundant pasture for the scattered flocks of goats. Their

keepers, dressed in sheep-skins, and, instead of crooks, carrying long

guns slung at their backs, and two or three powder and ball cases at

their girdles, gave a half martial, half pastoral complexion to the

landscape. Gigantic eagles flew majestically from rock to rock, like the

sole sovereigns of those solitary places. Here we had really before us

what we had dreamed of in the Caspian steppes, when, with eyes scorched

by the hot sand, and with no amusement but the sight of our camels and

the sound of their cries, or the encounter of some Kalmuck kibitkas, we

tried to beguile the discomforts of our situation by peopling the desert

with a thousand fascinating images.

Before we reached the gorge in which Kislovodsk is concealed, we fell in

with a second party of Circassians; but fortified by the safety with

which we had pursued our journey so far, and by our stay in Piatigorsk,

I indulged without apprehension in the pleasure of admiring them. There

were eight or ten of them reposing under a projecting rock, and a very

picturesque group they formed. Their horses, saddled and bridled, were

feeding at a little distance from their masters, who had not

disencumbered themselves of their weapons. Some had their heads entirely

enveloped in _bashliks_, a sort of hood made of camels' hair, which is

worn only in travelling; others wore the national fur cap; their

garments, of a graceful and commodious form, glittered with broad silver

lace; they all had bourkas, a kind of mantle, indispensable to the

Circassian as his weapons. When our carriage approached them, some of

them sat up and looked at us with an air of scornful indifference, but

showed no disposition to molest us.

Our first business on reaching Kislovodsk was to visit the source of the

acid waters, to which the place owes its celebrity. It does not break

out like most others from the side of a mountain, or from a cleft in a

rock, but at the bottom of a valley. Nature, who usually conceals her

treasures in the most inaccessible spots, has made an exception in its

favour. A square basin has been constructed for it, and there it seems

continually boiling up, though it has no heat. It resembles

Seltzer-water in its sparkling and its slightly acid taste.

Kislovodsk consists of about fifteen houses, or rather little Asiatic

palaces, adorned with long open galleries, terraces, gardens, and

vestibules filled with flowers. All the frequenters of Piatigorsk finish

the watering season at Kislovodsk. Behind this aristocratic abode

extends a narrow gorge, bounded on all sides by vertical mountain crags

that seem to cut it off from the whole world. It would require several

days to explore all the charming scenes in the neighbourhood. Among its

natural curiosities is a celebrated cascade hidden in the very heart of

the valley. The way to it leads for an hour along the bed its waters

have hollowed for themselves through a thick limestone stratum, over a

winding path that narrows continually up to the foot of the fall. At

that spot you are imprisoned between cliffs so steep that no goat could

find footing on them, and you have before you a dazzling sheet of water

descending by terraces from a height of more than sixty feet, breaking

into snowy foam where it meets with obstacles on its way, and

disappearing for a moment under fragments of rocks, beyond which it

re-appears as a limpid stream, flowing over a bed of moss and pebbles.

The position of Kislovodsk exposes it much more that Piatigorsk to the

assaults of the mountaineers, and one never feels quite safe there,

notwithstanding the Cossack detachment that guards the heights. A

Circassian aoul, perched like an eyrie on the highest crest of the

adjacent mountains, is a dangerous neighbour for the water drinkers. Its

inhabitants, though nominally subdued, forego no opportunity of wreaking

their hatred on the Russians.

After our return to the doctor's roof, we went to see the German colony

of Karas at the foot of the Bechtau. Its thriving condition does honour

both to the colonists and to the government whose protection they have

sought. At first it was composed only of Scotchmen, and was founded by

one Peterson, a zealous sectarian, whose chief object was the conversion

of the Circassians. But his preaching was wholly ineffectual, and by

degrees the laborious Germans took the place of the Scotch missionaries.

The original intention of the establishments is now scarcely remembered:

the colonists are simply agriculturists, and think only of enriching

themselves at the cost of the strangers who come to drink the mineral

waters.

A short sketch of the history of these waters may not be unacceptable to

the reader. It was in the reign of Catherine II., that Russia advanced

her frontiers to the Kouban and the Terek, and forced the various tribes

established near those rivers to retire into the mountains. In 1780,

Potemkin invaded what at present forms the territory of Piatigorsk, and

advanced to the Pod Kouma at the foot of the Bechtau. The fortress of

Constantinogorsk was erected at that period, and Catherine constrained

the neighbouring tribes to acknowledge her sovereignty. But this

pacification of the country was hollow and fallacious. The chiefs of the

Bechtau had submitted but in outward appearance; they kept up a secret

understanding with the inhabitants of Kabarda, and often joined in their

marauding expeditions against the common enemy. Hence arose continual

conflicts between them and the Russians.

General Marcof took command of the Caucasus in 1798, and adopted the

most rigorous measures against the petty tribes of the Bechtau. Their

country was invaded by a numerous army and given up to pillage, and the

mountaineers, driven from their villages, were obliged to seek refuge

beyond the Kouban and the Terek. Thenceforth there was more quiet on the

line of the Caucasus, and the Kabardians were less frequently seen in

the vicinity of Piatigorsk. It was about this time the sulphurous waters

were discovered by some soldiers of the 16th regiment of chasseurs in

garrison at Constantinogorsk. It appears, however, that they had been

long known and used by the people of the country, as proved by some old

baths hollowed out of the rock.

The discovery made by the soldiers was quickly turned to account by

their officers, and a small house was erected near by the principal

spring at the cost of the regiment. The sulphurous waters were soon

known in the neighbourhood, and their fame was spread all over the

empire through the medium of military intercourse. Several persons of

distinction repaired to them in 1799, at which time medical advice was

given by the regimental surgeons, and the patients resided in tents

given up for their use by the officers and soldiers. The number of

visitors increased every year up to 1804, and the government repeatedly

sent chemists and physicians to the spot to study the composition and

therapeutic qualities of the waters. Unfortunately in 1804, a contagious

disease, which soon proved to be the plague, broke out in a Circassian

aoul, seven versts from Georgief. It spread rapidly through all the

adjacent countries, and caused a frightful mortality. The sanatory

measures adopted in consequence, put an end to all communication between

the Caucasus and the Russian provinces, and the mineral waters were

entirely forsaken even by the inhabitants of the country. Such were the

ravages of the plague, that in the space of five years Little Kabarda

lost, at least, the twentieth part of its population. The Russian

government omitted no means that could stay the contagion from crossing

its frontiers, and it was not until 1809, that free intercourse with the

Caucasus was again permitted. Multitude of visitors appeared in the

following year, the ordinary tents were not sufficient for their

accommodation, and it was necessary to make huts for them with branches

of trees; several persons even made their abode in their carriages, and

under felt and canvass awnings. The want of new wooden bath-rooms was

also felt, and several little chambers were erected round the springs.

In 1811, the concourse of visitors was so great that the Kalmucks of the

Caspian were ordered to supply them with 100 felt tents. But even these

were found insufficient in the following summer, and by this time the

profits realised by the soldiers, who let out their quarters, having

attracted the attention of some individuals, considerable stone edifices

were soon erected. In 1814, the celebrated Greek, Warvatzi, built new

bath-rooms at his own expense, and laid down two roads, one for

pedestrians, the other for carriages, both leading to the principal

spring. Three hundred Polish prisoners were placed at his disposal for

the execution of these works. Thenceforth the place grew up rapidly,

and under General Yermoloff's administration, nothing was neglected that

could render the various edifices as complete and commodious as

possible. Thus was gradually formed the pretty little town of

Piatigorsk, which now contains seven principal bathing hotels, and

eleven warm sulphurous springs, the temperature of which ranges from

thirty to thirty-eight degrees Reaumur.

The waters of Kislovodsk were discovered in 1790, during the war waged

by the Russians against the Kabardians, and in 1792, they were

numerously frequented under the protection of the imperial troops. The

danger was great, however, for attacks were often made by the enemy, who

even made repeated attempts to choke up the spring, or divert the

waters. It was not until a fort was built in 1803, that the waters could

be visited with some degree of security.

The first houses for the reception of invalids were built in 1819;

before that time they resided in tents. A magnificent restaurant was

built in 1823, and a handsome alley of lindens was planted from the

spring to the cataract, the picturesque appearance of which we so much

admired. The ferruginous waters, near the site of the Scotch colony,

were not made use of until long after the others, in consequence of

their remote position, and the woods by which they were surrounded. It

was not before 1819, that Yermoloff rendered them easy of access, and

they began to be regularly frequented by invalids.

CHAPTER XXX.

SITUATION OF THE RUSSIANS AS TO THE CAUCASUS.

HISTORY OF THEIR ACQUISITION OF THE TRANS-CAUCASIAN

PROVINCES--GENERAL TOPOGRAPHY OF THE CAUCASUS--ARMED LINE OF

THE KOUBAN AND THE TEREK--BLOCKADE OF THE COASTS--CHARACTER

AND USAGES OF THE MOUNTAINEERS--ANECDOTE--VISIT TO A

CIRCASSIAN PRINCE.

Among the various Asiatic nations which force and diplomacy are striving

to subject to the Muscovite sceptre, there is one against which the

whole might of Russia has hitherto been put forth in vain. The warlike

tribes of the Caucasus have victoriously maintained their national

independence; and in thus separating the trans-Caucasian provinces from

the rest of the empire, they have protected Persia and Asiatic Turkey,

and postponed indefinitely all thoughts of a Russian invasion of India.

The cabinets of Europe have generally overlooked the importance of the

Caucasus, and the part which its tribes are destined to play soon or

late in eastern questions. Great Britain alone, prompted by her

commercial instinct and her restless jealousy, protested for a time

against the encroaching career of the tzars; but the singular

manifestation of the _Vixen_ produced no slackening of the operations of

Russia. The war has now been going on for sixteen years, yet few exact

notions of its character and details are as yet possessed by Europe. Let

us endeavour to complete as far as possible what we already know

respecting the situation of the Russians in the Caucasus, and to see

what may be the general results, political and commercial, of the

occupation or independence of that region.

We know that one of Peter the Great's most cherished schemes, the dream

of his whole life, was to re-establish the trade of the East on its old

footing, and to secure to himself a port on the Black Sea, in order to

make it the link between the two continents. The genius of that

sovereign must surely have been most enterprising to conceive such a

project, at a time when its realisation required that the southern

frontiers of the empire should first be pushed forward from 150 to 200

leagues, as they have since been. Peter began his new political career

by the taking of Azof and the foundation of the port of Taganrok in

1695. The fatal campaign of the Pruth retarded the accomplishment of his

designs; but when circumstances allowed him to return to them, he began

again to pursue them in the direction of Persia and the Caspian. The

restitution of Azof, and the destruction of Taganrok, stipulated in the

treaty of the Pruth, thus became the primary cause of the Russian

expeditions against the trans-Caucasian provinces.

At this period Persia was suffering all the disorders of anarchy. The

Turks had possessed themselves of all its western provinces up to the

foot of the Caucasus; whilst the mountaineers, availing themselves of

the distracted state of the country, made bloody inroads upon Georgia

and the adjacent regions. The Lesghis, now one of the most formidable

tribes of the Caucasus, ravaged the plains of Shirvan, in 1712, reduced

the towns and villages to ashes, and massacred, according to Russian

writers, 300 merchants, subjects of the empire, in the town of Shamaki.

These acts of violence afforded Peter the Great an opportunity which he

did not let slip. Under the pretence of punishing the Lesghis, and

protecting the Shah of Persia against them, he prepared to make an armed

intervention in the trans-Caucasian provinces. A formidable expedition

was fitted out. A flotilla, constructed at Casan, arrived at the mouths

of the Volga, and on the 15th of May, 1722, the emperor began his march

at the head of 22,000 infantry, 9000 dragoons, and 15,000 Cossacks and

Kalmucks. The transports coasted the Caspian, whilst the army marched by

the Daghestan route, the great highway successively followed by the

nations of the north and the south in their invasions. Thus it was that

the Russians entered the Caucasus, and the valleys of those inaccessible

mountains resounded, for the first time, to the war music of the

Muscovite. The occupation of Ghilan and Derbent, and the siege of Bakou

were the chief events of this campaign. Turkey, dismayed at the

influence Russia was about to acquire in the East, was ready to take up

arms; but Austria, taking the initiative in Europe, declared for the

policy of the tzar, and vigorously resisted the hostile tendencies of

the Porte. Russia was thus enabled to secure, not only Daghestan and

Ghilan, but also the surrender of those provinces in which her armies

had never set foot. In the midst of these events, Peter died when on the

eve of consolidating his conquests, and before he had completed his

negotiations with Persia and Turkey. His grand commercial ideas were

abandoned after his death; the policy of the empire was directed solely

towards territorial acquisition, and the tzars only obeyed the strong

impulse, that, as if by some decree of fate, urges their subjects

towards the south. Thenceforth the trans-Caucasian provinces were

considered only a point gained for intervention in the affairs of Persia

and Turkey, and for ulterior conquests in the direction of Central Asia.

The rise of the celebrated Nadir Shah, who possessed himself of all the

ancient dominions of Persia, for a while changed the face of things.

Russia, crippled in her finances, withdrew her troops, gave up her

pretensions to the countries beyond the Caucasus, acknowledged the

independence of the two Kabardas by the treaty of Belgrade, and even

engaged no longer to keep a fleet on the Sea of Azof.

A religious mission sent to the Ossetans, who occupy the celebrated

defiles of Dariel, was the only event in the reign of Elizabeth, that

regarded the regions we are considering. Hardly any conversions were

effected, but the Ossetans, to a certain extent, acknowledged the

supremacy of Russia: this satisfied the real purpose of the mission, for

the first stone was thereby laid on the line which was to become the

great channel of communication between Russia and her Asiatic provinces.

Schemes of conquest in the direction of Persia were resumed with vigour

under Catherine II., and were carried out with more regularity. The

first thing aimed at was to protect the south of the empire against the

inroads of the Caucasians, and to this end the armed line of the Kouban

and the Terek was organised and finished in 1771. It then numbered

sixteen principal forts, and a great number of lesser ones and redoubts.

Numerous military colonies of Cossacks, were next settled on the banks

of the two rivers for the protection of the frontiers. While these

preparations were in hand, war broke out with Turkey. Victorious both by

sea and land, Catherine signed, in 1774, the memorable treaty of

Koutchouk Kainardji, which secured to her the free navigation of the

Black Sea, the passage of the Dardanelles, the entry of the Dniepr, and,

moreover, conceded to her in the Caucasus, the sovereignty over both

Kabardas.

Peace being thus concluded, Catherine's first act was to send a pacific

mission to explore the country of the Ossetans. The old negotiations

were skilfully renewed, and a free passage through the defiles was

obtained with the consent of that people. In 1781, an imperial squadron

once more appeared in the Caspian, and endeavoured, but ineffectually,

to make some military settlements on the Persian coasts. This expedition

limited itself to consolidating the moral influence of Russia, and

exciting, among the various tribes and nations of those regions,

dissensions which afterwards afforded her a pretext for direct

intervention. The Christian princes of Georgia, and the adjacent

principalities, were the first to undergo the consequences of the

Russian policy. Seduced by gold and presents, and doubtless also,

wearied by the continual troubles that desolated their country, they

gradually fell off from Persia and Turkey and accepted the protection of

Catherine. The passes of the Caucasus were now free to Russia; she lost

no time in making them practicable for an army, and so she was at last

in a condition to realise in part the vast plans of the founder of her

power.

At a later period, in 1787, Russia and Turkey were again in arms, and

the shore of the Caspian became for the first time a centre of military

operations. Anapa, which the Turks had built for the protection of their

trade with the mountaineers, after an unsuccessful assault, was taken by

storm in 1791. Soudjouk Kaleh shared the same fate, but the Circassians

blew up its fortifications before they retired. Struck by these

conspicuous successes, the several states of Europe departed from the

favourable policy with which they had previously treated the views of

Russia, and the empress thought herself fortunate to conclude the treaty

of Jassy in 1792, by which she advanced her frontiers to the Dniestr,

and obtained the sovereignties of Georgia and the neighbouring

countries. But Turkey had Anapa and Soudjouk Kaleh restored to her, upon

her engaging to suppress the incursions of the tribes dwelling on the

left of the Kouban.

Aga Mahomed Khan marched against Georgia in 1795, to punish it for

having accepted the protectorate of Russia. Tiflis was sacked, and given

up to fire and sword. On hearing of this bloody invasion Catherine II.

immediately declared war against Persia, and her armies were already in

occupation of Bakou, and a large portion of the Caspian shores, when she

was succeeded by her son Paul I., who ordered all the recent conquests

to be abandoned. Nevertheless, this strange beginning did not hinder the

eccentric monarch from doing four years afterwards for Georgia what

Catherine had done for the Crimea. Under pretext of putting an end to

intestine discord, Georgia was united to Russia by an imperial ukase.

Shortly after the accession of Alexander, Mingrelia shared the fate of

Georgia; the conquests beyond the Caucasus were then regularised, and

Tiflis became the centre of an exclusive Muscovite administration, civil

and military.

The immediate contact of Russia with Persia soon led to a rupture

between these two powers. In 1806, hostilities began with Turkey also,

and the campaign was marked like that of 1791 by the taking of Anapa and

Soudjouk Kaleh, and the establishment of the Russians on the shores of

Circassia. The unfortunate contest which then ensued between Napoleon

and Alexander, and the direct intervention of England, put an end to the

war, and brought about the signature of two treaties. That of Bucharest

stipulated the reddition of Anapa and Soudjouk Kaleh; but Russia

acquired Bessarabia and the left bank of the Danube; and Koutousofs

80,000 men marched against Napoleon. The treaty of Gulistan, in 1814,

gave to the empire, among other countries, Daghestan, Georgia, Imeritia,

Mingrelia, the province of Bakou, Karabaugh, and Shirvan. This latter

treaty was no sooner ratified than endless discussions arose respecting

the determination of the frontiers. War was renewed, and ended only in

1828 by the treaty of Turkmantchai, which conceded to Russia the fine

countries of Erivan and Naktchivan, advanced her frontiers to the banks

of the Araxus, and rendered her mistress of all the passes of Persia.

It was during these latter wars that the people of the Caucasus began to

be seriously uneasy about the designs of Russia. The special protection

accorded to the Christian populations, the successive downfall of the

principal chiefs of the country, and the introduction of the Russian

administration, with its abuses and arbitrary proceedings, excited

violent commotions in the Caucasian provinces, and the mountaineers

naturally took part in every coalition formed against the common enemy.

The armed line of the Kouban and the Terek was often attacked, and many

a Cossack post was massacred. The Lesghis, the Tchetchenzes, and the

Circassians distinguished themselves especially by their pertinacity and

daring. Thenceforth Russia might conceive some idea of the contest she

would have to sustain on the confines of Asia.

We now approach the period when Russia, at last relieved from all her

quarrels with Persia and Turkey, definitively acquired Anapa and

Soudjouk Kaleh by the treaty of Adrianople, and directed all her efforts

against the mountaineers of the Caucasus. But as now the war assumed a

totally different character, it will be necessary to a full

understanding of it that we should first glance at the topography of the

country, and sketch the respective positions of the mountaineers and

their foes.

The chain of the Caucasus exhibits a peculiar conformation, altogether

different from that of any of the European chains. The Alps, the

Pyrenees, and the Carpathians, are accessible only by the valleys, and

in these the inhabitants of the country find their subsistence, and

agriculture develops its wealth. The contrary is the case in the

Caucasus. From the fortress of Anapa on the Black Sea, all along to the

Caspian, the northern slope presents only immense inclined plains,

rising in terraces to a height of 3000 or 4000 yards above the sea

level. These plains, rent on all directions by deep and narrow valleys

and vertical clefts, often form real steppes, and possess on their

loftiest heights rich pastures, where the inhabitants, secure from all

attack, find fresh grass for their cattle in the sultriest days of

summer. The valleys on the other hand are frightful abysses, the steep

sides of which are clothed with brambles, while the bottoms are filled

with rapid torrents foaming over beds of rocks and stones. Such is the

singular spectacle generally presented by the northern slope of the

Caucasus. This brief description may give an idea of the difficulties to

be encountered by an invading army. Obliged to occupy the heights, it is

incessantly checked in its march by impassable ravines, which do not

allow of the employment of cavalry, and for the most part prevent the

passage of artillery. The ordinary tactics of the mountaineers is to

fall back before the enemy, until the nature of the ground or the want

of supplies obliges the latter to begin a retrograde movement. Then it

is that they attack the invaders, and, entrenched in their forests

behind impregnable rocks, they inflict the most terrible carnage on them

with little danger to themselves.

On the south the character of the Caucasian chain is different. From

Anapa to Gagra, along the shores of the Black Sea, we observe a

secondary chain composed of schistous mountains, seldom exceeding 1000

yards in height. But the nature of their soil, and of their rocks, would

be enough to render them almost impracticable for European armies, even

were they not covered with impenetrable forests. The inhabitants of this

region, who are called Tcherkesses or Circassians, by the Russians, are

entirely independent, and constitute one of the most warlike peoples of

the Caucasus.

The great chain begins in reality at Gagra, but the mountains recede

from the shore, and nothing is to be seen along the coast as far as

Mingrelia but secondary hills, commanded by immense crags, that

completely cut off all approach to the central part of the Caucasus.

This region, so feebly defended by its topographical conformation, is

Abkhasia, the inhabitants of which have been forced to submit to Russia.

To the north and on the northern slope, westward of the military road

from Mosdok to Tiflis, dwell a considerable number of tribes, some of

them ruled by a sort of feudal system, others constituted into little

republics. Those of the west, dependent on Circassia and Abadza, are in

continual war with the empire, whilst the Nogais, who inhabit the plains

on the left bank of the Kouma, and the tribes of the Great Kabarda, own

the sovereignty of the tzar; but their wavering and dubious submission

cannot be relied on. In the centre, at the foot of the Elbrouz, dwell

the Souanethes, an unsubdued people, and near them, occupying both sides

of the pass of Dariel, are the Ingouches and Ossetans, exceptional

tribes, essentially different from the aboriginal peoples. Finally, we

have eastward of the great Tiflis road, near the Terek, Little Kabarda,

and the country of the Koumicks, for the present subjugated; and then

those indomitable tribes, the Lesghis and Tchetchenzes, of whom Shamihl

is the Abd el Kader, and who extend over the two slopes of the Caucasus

to the vicinity of the Caspian.

In reality, the Kouban and the Terek, that rise from the central chain,

and fall, the one into the Black Sea, the other into the Caspian, may

be considered as the northern political limits of independent Caucasus.

It is along those two rivers that Russia has formed her armed line,

defended by Cossacks, and detachments from the regular army. The

Russians have indeed penetrated those northern frontiers at sundry

points, and have planted some forts within the country of the Lesghis

and Tchetchenzes. But these lonely posts, in which a few unhappy

garrisons are surrounded on all sides, and generally without a chance of

escape, cannot be regarded as a real occupation of the soil on which

they stand. They are in fact only so many piquets, whose business is

only to watch more closely the movements of the mountaineers. In the

south, from Anapa to Gagra, along the Black Sea, the imperial

possessions are limited to a few detached forts, completely isolated,

and deprived of all means of communication by land. A rigorous blockade

has been established on this coast; but the Circassians, as intrepid in

their frail barks as among their mountains, often pass by night through

the Russian line of vessels, and reach Trebisond and Constantinople.

Elsewhere, from Mingrelia to the Caspian, the frontiers are less

precisely defined, and generally run parallel with the great chain of

the Caucasus.

Thus limited, the Caucasus, including the territory occupied by the

subject tribes, presents a surface of scarcely 5000 leagues; and it is

in this narrow region that a virgin and chivalric nation, amounting at

most to 2,000,000 of souls, proudly upholds its independence against the

might of the Russian empire, and has for twenty years sustained one of

the most obstinate struggles known to modern history.

The Russian line of the Kouban, which is exactly similar to that of the

Terek, is defended by the Cossacks of the Black Sea, the poor remains of

the famous Zaporogues, whom Catherine II. subdued with so much

difficulty, and whom she colonised at the foot of the Caucasus, as a

bulwark against the incursions of the mountaineers. The line consists of

small forts and watch stations; the latter are merely a kind of sentry

box raised on four posts, about fifty feet from the ground. Two Cossacks

keep watch in them day and night. On the least movement of the enemy in

the vast plain of reeds that fringes both banks of the river, a beacon

fire is kindled on the top of the watch box. If the danger becomes more

pressing, an enormous torch of straw and tar is set fire to. The signal

is repeated from post to post, the whole line springs to arms, and 500

or 600 men are instantly assembled on the point threatened. These posts,

composed generally of a dozen men, are very close to each other,

particularly in the most dangerous places. Small forts have been erected

at intervals with earthworks, and a few pieces of cannon; they contain

each from 150 to 200 men.

But notwithstanding all the vigilance of the Cossacks, often aided by

the troops of the line, the mountaineers not unfrequently cross the

frontier and carry their incursions, which are always marked with

massacre and pillage, into the adjacent provinces. These are bloody but

justifiable reprisals. In 1835 a body of fifty horsemen entered the

country of the Cossacks, and proceeded to a distance of 120 leagues, to

plunder the German colony of Madjar and the important village of

Vladimirofka, on the Kouma, and what is most remarkable, they got back

to their mountains without being interrupted. The same year Kisliar on

the Caspian was sacked by the Lesghis. These daring expeditions prove of

themselves how insufficient is the armed line of the Caucasus, and to

what dangers that part of southern Russia is exposed.

The line of forts along the Black Sea is quite as weak, and the

Circassians there are quite as daring. They carry off the Russian

soldiers from beneath the fire of their redoubts, and come up to the

very foot of their walls to insult the garrison. At the time I was

exploring the mouths of the Kouban, a hostile chief had the audacity to

appear one day before the gates of Anapa. He did all he could to

irritate the Russians, and abusing them as cowards and woman-hearted, he

defied them to single combat. Exasperated by his invectives, the

commandant ordered that he should be fired on with grape. The horse of

the mountaineer reared and threw off his rider, who, without letting go

the bridle, instantly mounted again, and, advancing still nearer to the

walls, discharged his pistol almost at point blank distance at the

soldiers, and galloped off to the mountains.

As for the blockade by sea, the imperial squadron is not expert enough

to render it really effectual. It is only a few armed boats, manned by

Cossacks, that give the Circassians any serious uneasiness. These

Cossacks, like those of the Black Sea, are descended from the

Zaporogues. Previously to the last war with Turkey they were settled on

the right bank of the Danube, where their ancestors had taken refuge

after the destruction of their Setcha. During the campaigns of 1828-9,

pains were taken to revive their national feelings, they were brought

again by fair means or by force under the imperial sway, and were then

settled in the forts along the Caucasian shore, the keeping of which was

committed to their charge. Courageous, enterprising, and worthy rivals

of their foes, they wage a most active war against the skiffs of the

mountaineers in their boats, which carry crews of fifty or sixty men.

The war not having permitted us to visit the independent tribes, and

investigate their moral and political condition for ourselves, we shall

not enter into long details respecting the manners and institutions of

the Circassians, but content ourselves with pointing out the principal

traits of their character, and such of their peculiarities as may have

most influence upon their relations with Russians.[60]

Of all the peoples of the Caucasus, none more fully realise than the

Circassians those heroic qualities with which imagination delights to

invest the tribes of these mountains. Courage, intelligence, and

remarkable beauty, have been liberally bestowed on them by nature; and

what I admired above all in their character is a calm, noble dignity

that never forsakes them, and which they unite with the most chivalric

feelings and the most ardent passion for national liberty. I remember

that during my stay at Ekaterinodar, the capital of the Cossacks of the

Black Sea, being seated one morning in front of a merchant's house in

the company of several Russian officers, I saw a very ill-dressed

Circassian come up, who appeared to belong to the lowest class. He

stopped before the shop, and while he was cheapening some articles, we

examined his sabre. I saw distinctly on it the Latin inscription, _Anno

Domini_, 1547, and the blade appeared to me to be of superior temper;

the Russians were of a different opinion, for they handed the weapon

back to the Circassian with disdainful indifference. The Circassian took

it without uttering a word, cut off a handful of his beard with it at a

stroke, as easily as though he had done it with a razor, then quietly

mounted his horse and rode away, casting on the officers a look of such

deep scorn as no words could describe.

The Circassians, evermore engaged in war, are in general all well armed.

Their equipment consists of a rifle, a sabre, a long dagger, which they

wear in front, and a pistol stuck in their belt. Their remarkably

elegant costume consists of tight pantaloons, and a short tunic belted

round the waist, and having cartridge pockets worked on the breast;

their head-dress is a round laced cap, encircled with a black or white

border of long-wooled sheep-skin. In cold or rainy weather, they wear a

hood (bashlik), and wrap themselves in an impenetrable felt cloak

(bourka). Their horses are small, but of astonishing spirit and bottom.

It has often been ascertained by the imperial garrisons that Circassian

marauders have got over twenty-five or even thirty leagues of ground in

a night. When pursued by the Russians, the mountaineers are not to be

stopped by the most rapid torrents. If the horse is young, and not yet

trained to this perilous kind of service, the rider gallops him up to

the verge of the ravine, then covering the animal's head with his

bourka, he plunges, almost always with impunity, down precipices that

are sometimes from ten or fifteen yards deep.

The Circassians are wonderfully expert in the use of fire-arms, and of

their double-edged daggers. Armed only with the latter weapon, they have

been known to leap their horses over the Russian bayonets, stab the

soldiers, and rout their squared battalions. When they are surrounded in

their forts or villages, without any chance of escape, they often

sacrifice their wives and children, set fire to their dwellings, and

perish in the flames rather than surrender. Like all Orientals, they do

not abandon their dead and wounded except at the last extremity, and

nothing can surpass the obstinacy with which they fight to carry them

off from the enemy. It was to this fact I owed my escape from one of the

greatest dangers I ever encountered.

In the month of April, 1841, I explored the military line of the Kouban.

On my departure from Stavropol, the governor strongly insisted on giving

me an escort; but I refused it, for fear of encumbering my movements,

and resolved to trust to my lucky star. It was the season of flood, too,

in the Kouban, a period in which the Circassians very seldom cross it. I

accepted, however, as a guide, an old Cossack, who had seen more than

five-and-twenty years' fighting, and was all over scars, in short, a

genuine descendant of the Zaporogues. This man, my interpreter, and a

postillion, whom we were to change at each station, formed my whole

suite. We were all armed, though there is not much use in such a

precaution in a country where one is always attacked either unawares, so

that he cannot defend himself, or by superior forces against which all

resistance is but a danger the more. But what of that? There was

something imposing and flattering to one's pride in these martial

accoutrements. A Tiflis dagger was stuck in my belt, a heavy rifle

thumped against my loins, and my holsters contained an excellent pair of

St. Etienne pistols. My Cossack was armed with two pistols, a rifle, a

Circassian sabre, and a lance. As for my interpreter, an Italian, he was

as brave as a Calabrian bandit, and what prized above all in him was an

imperturbable coolness in the most critical positions, and a blind

obedience to my orders. For five days we pursued our way pleasantly

along the Kouban, without thinking of the danger of our position. The

country, broken up by beautiful hills, was covered with rich vegetation.

The muddy waters of the Kouban flowed on our left, and beyond the river

we saw distinctly the first ranges of the Caucasus. We could even

discern the smoke of the Circassian aouls rising up amidst the forests.

On the evening of the fifth day we arrived at a little fort, where we

passed the night. The weather next morning was cold and rainy, and every

thing gave token of an unpleasant day. The country before us was quite

unlike that we were leaving behind. The road wound tortuously over an

immense plain between marshes and quagmires, that often rendered it all

but impossible to advance. Our morning ride was therefore a dull and

silent one. The Cossack had no tales to tell of his warlike feats; he

was in bad humour, and never opened his lips except to rap out one of

those thundering oaths in which the Russians often indulge. A thin rain

beat in our faces; our tired horses slid at every step on the greasy

clay soil, and we rode in single file, muffled up in our bourkas and

bashliks. Towards noon, the weather cleared up, the road became less

difficult, and towards evening we were but an hour and a half from the

last fort on that side of Ekaterinodar. We were then proceeding slowly,

without any thought of danger, and I paid no heed to the Cossack, who

had halted some distance behind. But our quick-eared guide had heard

the sound of hoofs, and in a few seconds he rode up at full speed,

shouting with all his might, "The Tcherkesses! the Tcherkesses!" Looking

round we saw four mountaineers coming over a hill not far from the road.

My plan was instantly formed. The state of our horses rendered any

attempt at flight entirely useless; we were still far from the fortress,

and, once overtaken, we could not avoid a fight, the chances of which

were all against us. The Cossack alone had a sabre, and when once we had

discharged our fire-arms, it would be all over with us. But I knew that

the Circassians never abandoned their dead and wounded, and it was on

this I founded our hope of safety. My orders were quickly given, and we

continued to advance at a walk, riding abreast, but sufficiently wide

apart to leave each man's movements free. Not a word was uttered by any

of us. I had incurred many dangers in the course of my travels, but I

had never been in a situation of more breathless anxiety. In less than

ten minutes we distinctly heard the galloping of the mountaineers, and

immediately afterwards their balls whizzed past us. My bourka was

slightly touched, and the shaft of the Cossack's lance was cut in two.

The critical moment was come; I gave the word, and we instantly wheeled

round, and discharged our pistols at arm's length at our assailants: two

of them fell. "Away now, and ride for your lives," I shouted, "the

Circassians will not pursue us." Our horses, which had recovered their

wind, and were probably inspirited by the smell of powder, carried us

along at a sweeping pace, and never stopped until we were within sight

of the fortress. Exactly what I had foreseen had happened. On the

morning after that memorable day the garrison turned out and scoured the

country, and I accompanied them to the scene of action. There were

copious marks of blood on the sand, and among the sedges on the side of

the road we found a shaska, or Circassian sabre, which had been dropped

no doubt by the enemy. The commanding officer presented it to me, and I

have kept it ever since as a remembrance of my perilous interview with

the mountaineers. It bears the mark of a ball.

It would be difficult to give any precise idea respecting the religious

principles of the various nations of the Caucasus. The charge of

idolatry has been alleged against several of them, but we think without

any good grounds. Paganism, Christianity, and Mohammedanism, have by

turns found access among them, and the result has been an anomalous

medley of no clearly defined doctrines with the most superstitious

practices of their early obsolete creeds. The Lesghis and the eastern

tribes alone are really Mohammedans. As for the Ossetans, Circassians,

Kabardians, and other western tribes, they seem to profess a pure deism,

mingled with some Christian and Mussulman notions. It is thought that

Christianity was introduced among these people by the celebrated Thamar,

Queen of Georgia, who reigned in the latter part of the twelfth century;

but it is much more probable that this was done by the Greek colonies of

the Lower Empire, and afterwards by those of the republic of Genoa in

the Crimea. The Tcherkesses to this day entertain a profound reverence

for the crosses and old churches of their country, to which they make

frequent pilgrimages, and yearly offerings and sacrifices. It seems,

too, that the Greek mythology has left numerous traces in Circassia; the

story of Saturn for instance, that of the Titans endeavouring to scale

heaven, and several others, are found among many of the tribes. A very

marked characteristic of the Circassians is a total absence of religious

fanaticism. Pretenders to divine inspiration have always been repulsed

by them, and most of them have paid with their lives for their attempts

at proselytism. This is not the case on the Caspian side of the

mountains, where Shamihl's power is in a great measure based on his

religious influence over the tribes.

When two nations are at war, it usually happens that the one is

calumniated by the other, and the stronger seeks an apology for its own

ambition in blackening the character of its antagonist. Thus the

Russians, wishing to make the inhabitants of the Caucasus appear as

savages, against whom every means of extermination is allowable, relate

the most absurd tales of the ferocious tortures inflicted by them on

their prisoners. But there is no truth in all this. I have often met

military men who had been prisoners in the mountains, and they

unanimously testified to the good treatment they had received. The

Circassians deal harshly only with those who resist, or who have made

several attempts to escape; but in those cases their measures are fully

justified by the fear lest the fugitives should convey important

topographical information to the Russians. As for the story of the

chopped horsehair inserted under the skin of the soles of the feet to

hinder the escape of captives, it has been strangely exaggerated by some

travellers. I never could hear of more than one prisoner of war who had

been thus treated, and this was an army surgeon with whom I had an

opportunity of conversing. He had not been previously ill-treated in any

way by the mountaineers; but, distracted with the desire for freedom, he

had made three attempts to escape, and it was not until the third that

the Tcherkesses had recourse to the terrible expedient of the horsehair.

During our stay at the waters of the Caucasus, I saw a young Russian

woman who had recently been rescued by General Grabe's detachment.

Shortly after our arrival she fled, and returned to the mountains. This

fact speaks at least in favour of the gallantry of the Circassians.

Indeed, there is no one in the country but well knows the deep respect

they profess for the sex. It would be very difficult, if not impossible,

to mention any case in which Russian female prisoners have been

maltreated by them.

The Circassians have been accustomed, from time immemorial, to make

prisoners of all foreigners who land on their shores without any special

warrant or recommendation. This custom has been denounced and censured

in every possible way; yet it is not so barbarous as has been supposed.

Encompassed by enemies, exposed to incessant attacks, and relying for

their defence chiefly on the nature of their country, the jealous care

of their independence has naturally compelled the mountaineers to become

suspicious, and not to allow any traveller to penetrate their retreats.

What proves that this prohibitive measure is by no means the result of a

savage temper is, that it is enough to pronounce the name of a chief, no

matter who, to be welcomed and treated everywhere with unbounded

hospitality. Reassured by this slender evidence of good faith, the

mountaineers lay aside their distrust, and think only how they may do

honour to the guest of one of their princes.

But another and still graver charge still hangs over the Circassians,

namely, their slave dealing, which has so often provoked the generous

indignation of the philanthropists of Europe, and for the abolition of

which Russia has been extolled by all journalists. We are certainly far

from approving of that hateful trade, in which human beings are bought

and sold as merchandise; but we are bound in justice to the people of

Asia to remark, that there is a wide difference between Oriental slavery

and that which exists in Russia, in the French colonies, and in America.

In the East, slavery becomes in fact a virtual adoption, which has

generally a favourable effect both on the moral and the physical weal of

the individual. It is a condition by no means implying any sort of

degradation, nor has there ever existed between it and the class of

freemen that line of demarcation, beset by pride and prejudice, which is

found everywhere else. It would be easy to mention the names of many

high dignitaries of Turkey who were originally slaves; indeed, it would

be difficult to name one young man of the Caucasus, sold to the Turks,

who did not rise to more or less distinction. As for the women, large

cargoes of whom still arrive in the Bosphorus in spite of the Russian

blockade, they are far from bewailing their lot; on the contrary, they

think themselves very fortunate in being able to set out for

Constantinople, which offers them a prospect of every thing that can

fascinate the imagination of a girl of the East. All this, of course,

pre-supposes the absence of those family affections to which we attach

so much value; but it must not be forgotten that the tribes of the

Caucasus cannot be fairly or soundly judged by the standard of our

European notions, but that we must make due allowance for their social

state, their manners, and traditions. The sale of women in Circassia is

obviously but a substitute and an equivalent for the indispensable

preliminaries that elsewhere precede every marriage in the East; with

this difference alone, that in the Caucasus, on account of its

remoteness, it is an agent who undertakes the pecuniary part of the

transaction, and acts as the medium between the girl's relations and him

whose lawful wife she is in most cases to become. The parents, it is

true, part with their children, and give them up to strangers almost

always unknown to them; but they do not abandon them for all that. They

keep up a frequent correspondence with them, and the Russians never

capture a single Circassian boat in which there are not men and women

going to or returning from Constantinople merely to see their children.

No one who has been in the Caucasus can be ignorant of the fact that all

the families, not excepting even those of high rank, esteem it a great

honour to have their children placed out in Turkey. It is to all these

relations and alliances, as I may say, between the Circassians and the

Turks that the latter owe the great moral influence they still exercise

over the tribes of the Caucasus. The name of Turk is always the best

recommendation among the mountaineers, and there is no sort of

respectful consideration but is evinced towards those who have returned

home after passing some years of servitude in Turkey. After all, the

Russians themselves think on this subject precisely as we do, and were

it not for potent political considerations, they would not by any means

offer impediment to the Caucasian slave-trade. This is proved most

manifestly by the proposal made by a Russian general in 1843, to

regulate and ratify this traffic, and carry it on for the benefit of

Russia, by granting the tzar's subjects the exclusive privilege of

purchasing Circassian slaves. The scheme was abortive, and could not

have been otherwise, for it is a monstrous absurdity to compare Russian

slavery with that which prevails in Constantinople. Nothing proves more

strongly how different are the real sentiments of the Circassians from

those imputed to them, than the indignation with which they regard

slavery, such as prevails in Russia. I will here relate an anecdote

which I doubt not will appear strange to many persons; but I can

guarantee its authenticity, since the fact occurred under my own eyes.

A detachment of mountaineers, destined to form a guard of honour for

Paskewitch, passed through Rostof on the Don, in 1838. The sultry season

was then at its height, and two of the Circassians, going to bathe, laid

their clothes in the boat belonging to the custom-house. There was

certainly nothing very reprehensible in this; but the _employes_ of the

customs thought otherwise, threw the men's clothes into the river, and

assaulted them with sticks. Immediately there was a tremendous uproar;

all the mountaineers flocked to the spot, and threatened to set fire to

the town, if the amplest satisfaction were not given to their comrades.

The inhabitants were seized with alarm, and the director of the customs

went in person to the commander of the Circassians, to beseech him not

to put his threats in execution; and he backed his entreaties with the

offer of a round sum of money for the officer and his men. "Money!"

retorted the indignant chieftain; "money! it is good for base-souled,

venal Russians! It is good for you, who sell men, women, and children

like vile cattle; but among our people, the honour of a man made in the

image of God is not bought and sold. Let your men kneel down before my

soldiers, and beg their pardon; that is the only reparation we insist

on." The chief's demand was complied with, and the peace of the town

was immediately restored. The words we have reported are authentic; they

prove that the Tcherkesses do not look on the sale of their children as

a traffic, and that in the actual state of their national civilisation,

that sale cannot be in anywise considered as incompatible with family

affections, and the sentiments of honour and humanity.

The Circassian women have been celebrated by so many writers, and their

beauty has been made the theme of so many charming descriptions, that we

may be allowed to say a few words about them. Unfortunately we are

constrained to avow, that the reputation of their charms appears to us

greatly exaggerated, and that in person they are much less remarkable

than the men. It is true we have not been able to visit any of the great

centres of the population: we have not been among the independent

tribes; but we have been in several aouls on the banks of the Kouban,

and been entertained in a princely family; but nowhere could we see any

of those perfect beauties of whom travellers make such frequent mention.

The only thing that really struck us in these mountain girls was the

elegance of their shape, and the inimitable grace of their bearing. A

Circassian woman is never awkward. Dressed in rags or in brocade, she

never fails to assume spontaneously the most noble and picturesque

attitudes. In this respect she is incontestably superior to the highest

efforts of fascination which Parisian art can achieve.

The great celebrity of the women of the Caucasus appears to have been

derived from the bazaars of Constantinople, where the Turks, who are

great admirers of their charms, still inquire after them with extreme

avidity. But as their notions of beauty are quite different from ours,

and relate chiefly to plumpness, and the shape of the feet, it is not at

all surprising that the opinions of the Turks have misled travellers.

But though the Circassian belles do not completely realise the ideal

type dreamed of by Europeans, we are far from denying the brilliant

qualities with which nature has evidently endowed them. They are

engaging, gracious, and affable towards the stranger, and we can well

conceive that their charming hospitality has won for them many an ardent

admirer.

Apropos of the conjugal and domestic habits of the Circassians; I will

describe an excursion I made along the military line of the North,

eighteen months after my journey to the Caspian Sea.

During my stay at Ekaterinodar, the capital of the country of the Black

Sea Cossacks, I heard a great deal about a Tcherkess prince, allied to

Russia, and established on the right bank of the Kouban, a dozen versts

from the town. I therefore gladly accepted the proposal made to me by

the Attaman Zavadofsky to visit the chief, under the escort of an

officer and two soldiers. Baron Kloch, of whom I have already spoken,

accompanied me. We mounted our horses, armed to the teeth, according to

the invariable custom of the country, and in three hours we alighted in

the middle of the aoul. We were immediately surrounded by a crowd of

persons whose looks had nothing in them of welcome; but when they were

informed that we were not Russians, but foreigners, and that we were

come merely to request a few hours' hospitality of their master, their

sour looks were changed for an expression of the frankest cordiality,

and they hastened to conduct us to the prince's dwelling.

It was a miserable thatched mud cabin, in front of which we found the

noble Tcherkess, lying on a mat, in his shirt, and barefooted. He

received us in the kindest manner, and after complimenting us on our

arrival, he proceeded to make his toilette. He sent for his most elegant

garments and his most stylish leg-gear, girded on his weapons, which he

took care to make us admire, and then led us into the cabin, which

served as his abode during the day. The interior was as naked and

unfurnished as it could well be. A divan covered with reed matting, a

few vessels, and a saddle, were the only objects visible. After we had

rested a few moments, the prince begged us to pay a visit to his wife

and daughter, who had been apprised of our arrival, and were extremely

desirous to see us.

These ladies occupied a hut of their own, consisting, like the prince's,

of but one room. They rose as we entered, and saluted us very

gracefully; then motioning us to be seated, the mother sat down in the

Turkish fashion on her divan, whilst her daughter came and leaned

gracefully against the sofa on which we had taken our places. When the

ceremony of reception was over, we remarked with surprise that the

prince had not crossed the threshold, but merely put his head in at the

door to answer our questions and talk with his wife. Our Cossack officer

explained the meaning of this singular conduct, telling us that a

Circassian husband cannot, without detriment to his honour, enter his

wife's apartment during the day. This rule is rigorously observed in all

families that make any pretensions to distinction.

The princess's apartments had a little more air of comfort than her

husband's. We found in it two large divans with silk cushions

embroidered with gold and silver, carpets of painted felt, several

trunks and a very pretty work-basket. A little Russian mirror, and the

chief's armorial trophies, formed the ornaments of the walls. But the

floor was not boarded, the walls were rough plastered, and two little

holes, furnished with shutters, barely served to let a little air into

the interior. The princess, who seemed about five-and-thirty or forty,

was not fitted to support the reputation of her countrywomen, and we

were by no means dazzled by her charms. Her dress alone attracted our

attention. Under a brocaded pelisse with short sleeves, and laced on the

seams, she wore a silk chemise, open much lower down than decency could

approve. A velvet cap trimmed with silver, smooth plaits of hair, cut

heart-shape on the forehead, a white veil fastened on the top of the

head, and crossing over the bosom, and lastly, a red shawl thrown

carelessly over her lap, completed her toilette. As for her daughter, we

thought her charming: she was dressed in a white robe, and a red

kazavek confined round the waist; she had delicate features, a

dazzlingly fair complexion, and her black hair escaped in a profusion of

tresses from beneath her cap. The affability of the two ladies exceeded

our expectations. They asked us a multitude of questions about our

journey, our country, and our occupations. Our European costume

interested them exceedingly: our straw hats above all excited their

especial wonder. And yet there was something cold and impassive in their

whole demeanour. It was not until a long curtain falling by accident

shut out the princess from our sight that they condescended to smile.

After conversing for a little while, we asked permission of the princess

to take her likeness, and to sketch the interior of her dwelling, to

which she made no objection. When we had made our drawings, a collation

was set before us, consisting of fruits and small cheese-cakes, to

which, for my part, I did not do much honour. In the evening we took our

leave, and on coming out of the hut, we found all the inhabitants of the

aoul assembled, their faces beaming with the most sincere good will, and

every man was eager to shake hands with us before our departure. A

numerous body volunteered to accompany us, and the prince himself

mounted and rode with us half-way to Ekaterinodar, where we embraced

like old acquaintances. The Tcherkess chief turned back to his aoul, and

it was not without a feeling of regret that we spurred our horses in the

direction of the capital of the Black Sea Cossacks.

FOOTNOTES:

[60] For fuller details we refer our readers to the Travels of M.

Taitbout de Marigny and of the English agent Bell, and to the works

recently published by MM. Fonton and Dubois. There exists also another

narrative by Mr. Spencer, which has had the honour of a long analysis in

the _Revue des Deux Mondes_; but we know most positively that the

honourable gentleman only made a military promenade along the coasts of

the Black Sea, in company with Count Woronzof, and that he never

undertook that perilous excursion into Circassia, with which he has

filled a whole volume.

CHAPTER XXXI.

RETROSPECTIVE VIEW OF THE WAR IN THE CAUCASUS--VITAL

IMPORTANCE OF THE CAUCASUS TO RUSSIA--DESIGNS ON INDIA,

CENTRAL ASIA, BOKHARA, KHIVA, &C.--RUSSIAN AND ENGLISH

COMMERCE IN PERSIA.

The treaty of Adrianople was in a manner the opening of a new era in the

relations of Russia with the mountaineers; for it was by virtue of that

treaty that the present tzar, already master of Anapa and Soudjouk

Kaleh, pretended to the sovereignty of Circassia and of the whole

seaboard of the Black Sea. True to the invariable principles of its

foreign policy, the government at first employed means of corruption,

and strove to seduce the various chiefs of the country by pensions,

decorations, and military appointments. But the mountaineers, who had

the example of the Persian provinces before their eyes, sternly rejected

all the overtures of Russia, and repudiated the clauses of the

convention of Adrianople; the political and commercial independence of

their country became their rallying cry, and they would not treat on any

other condition. All such ideas were totally at variance with Nicholas's

schemes of absolute dominion; therefore he had recourse to arms to

obtain by force what he had been unable to accomplish by other means.

Abkhasia, situated on the eastern coast of the Black Sea, and easily

accessible, was the first invaded. A Russian force occupied the country

in 1839, under the ordinary pretence of supporting one of its princes,

and putting an end to anarchy. In the same year General Paskevitch, then

governor-general of the Caucasus, for the first time made an armed

exploration of the country of the Tcherkesses beyond the Kouban; but he

effected absolutely nothing, and his expedition only resulted in a great

loss of men and stores. In the following year war broke out in Daghestan

with the Lesghis and the Tchetchenzes. The celebrated Kadi Moulah,

giving himself out for a prophet, gathered together a considerable

number of partisans; but unfortunately for him there was no unanimity

among the tribes, and the princes were continually counteracting each

other. Kadi Moulah never was able to bring more than 3000 or 4000 men

together; nevertheless, he maintained the struggle with a courage worthy

of a better fate, and Russia knows what it cost her to put down the

revolt of Daghestan. As for any real progress in that part of the

Caucasus, the Russians made none; they did no more than replace things

on the old footing. Daghestan soon became again more hostile than ever,

and the Tchetchenzes and Lesghis continued in separate detachments to

plunder and ravage the adjacent provinces up to the time when the

ascendency of the celebrated Shamihl, the worthy successor of Kadi

Moulah, gave a fresh impulse to the warlike tribes of the mountain, and

rendered them more formidable than ever.

After taking possession of Anapa and Soudjouk Kaleh, the Russians

thought of seizing the whole seaboard of Circassia, and especially the

various points suitable for the establishment of military posts. They

made themselves masters of Guelendchik and the important position of

Gagra, which commands the pass between Circassia and Abkhasia. The

Tcherkesses heroically defended their territory, but how could they have

withstood the guns of the ships of war that mowed them down whilst the

soldiers were landing and constructing their redoubts? The blockade of

the coasts was declared in 1838, and all foreign communication with the

Caucasus ostensibly intercepted. During the four following years Russia

suffered heavy losses; and all her successes were limited to the

establishment of some small isolated forts on the sea-coast. She then

increased her army, laid down the military road from the Kouban to

Guelendchik, across the last western offshoot of the Caucasus, set on

foot an exploration of the enemy's whole coast, and prepared to push the

war with renewed vigour.

In 1837 the Emperor Nicholas visited the Caucasus. He would see for

himself the theatre of a war so disastrous for his arms, and try what

impression his imperial presence could make on the mountaineers. The

chiefs of the country were invited to various conferences, to which they

boldly repaired on the faith of the Russian parole; but instead of

conciliating them by words of peace and moderation, the emperor only

exasperated them by his threatening and haughty language. "Do you know,"

said he to them, "that I have powder enough to blow up all your

mountains?"

During the three following years there was an incessant succession of

expeditions. Golovin, on the frontiers of Georgia, Grabe on the north,

and Racifsky on the Circassian seaboard, left nothing untried to

accomplish their master's orders. The sacrifices incurred by Russia were

enormous; the greater part of her fleet was destroyed by a storm, but

all efforts failed against the intrepidity and tactics of the

mountaineers. Some new forts erected under cover of the ships were all

that resulted from these disastrous campaigns. I was in the Caucasus in

1839, when Lieutenant-General Grabe returned from his famous expedition

against Shamihl. When the army marched it had numbered 6000 men, 1000 of

whom, and 120 officers, were cut off in three months. But as the general

had advanced further into the country than any of his predecessors,

Russia sang poeans, and Grabe became the hero of the day, although the

imperial troops had been forced to retreat and entirely evacuate the

country they had invaded. All the other expeditions were similar to this

one, and achieved in reality nothing but the burning and destruction of

a few villages. It is true the mountaineers are far from being

victorious in all their encounters with the Russians, whose artillery

they cannot easily withstand; but if they are obliged to give way to

numbers or to engineering, nevertheless, they remain in the end masters

of the ground, and annul all the momentary advantages gained by their

enemies.

The year 1840 was still more fatal to the arms of Nicholas. Almost all

the new forts on the seaboard were taken by the Circassians, who bravely

attacked and carried the best fortified posts without artillery. The

military road from the Kouban to Guelendchik was intercepted, Fort St.

Nicholas, which commanded it, was stormed and the garrison massacred.

Never yet had Russia endured such heavy blows. The disasters were such

that the official journals themselves, after many months' silence, were

at last obliged to speak of them, and to try to gloss them over by

publishing turgid eulogiums on the heroism of the unfortunate Black Sea

garrisons. The following is the bulletin published in the Russian

_Invalide_ of the 7th of August, 1840:[61]

"The annals of the Russian army present a multitude of glorious deeds of

arms and heroic actions, the memory of which will be for ever preserved

among posterity. The detached corps of the Caucasus has from its special

destination more frequent opportunities than the other troops to gather

new laurels; but there had not yet been seen in its ranks examples of so

brilliant a valour as that recently manifested by the garrisons of

several campaigning fortifications erected on the unsubjugated

territory of the Cossacks of the eastern shores of the Black Sea.

Erected with a view to curb the brigandages of those semi-barbarous

hordes, and particularly their favourite occupation, the shameful trade

in slaves, these fortifications were during the spring of this year the

constant objects of their attacks. In hopes to destroy the obstacles

raised against them, at a period when by reason of their position, and

the insurmountable difficulty of communication, the forts on the

seaboard could not receive any aid from without, they united against

them all their forces and all their means. And indeed three of these

forts fell, but fell with a glory that won for their defenders the

admiration and even the respect of their fierce enemies. The valiant

efforts of the other garrisons were crowned with better success. They

have all withstood the desperate and often-repeated attacks of the

mountaineers, and held out unsubdued until it was possible to send them

succours.

"In this struggle between a handful of Russian soldiers and a determined

and enterprising enemy, ten and even twenty times their superiors in

number, the high deeds of the garrisons of the Veliaminof and Michael

redoubts, and the defence of forts Navaguinsky and Abinsky, merit

particular attention. The first of these redoubts was taken by the

mountaineers on the 29th of last February. At daybreak, taking advantage

of the localities, and concealed by the morning mist, their bands, more

than 7000 strong, approached the entrenchments unperceived, and rushed

impetuously to the assault. Repeatedly overthrown, they returned each

time furiously to the charge, and after a long conflict finally remained

masters of the rampart. The garrison, rejecting all proposals to

surrender, continued with invincible courage a combat thenceforth

without hope, preferring to find in it a glorious death; and all fell

with the exception of some invalid soldiers, who were made prisoners by

the mountaineers. The latter, in token of respect for the defenders of

the redoubt, took home with them some of them whom there still appeared

a chance of saving. The garrison of the Veliaminof redoubt consisted of

400 men of all ranks. The loss of the mountaineers amounted, in killed

alone, to 900 men.

"On the morning of the 22nd of March, the mountaineers, to the number of

more than 11,000 men, attacked the Michael redoubt, the garrison of

which counted but 480 men under arms. Its brave commander,

Second-captain Lico, of the battalion No. 5 of the Cossacks of the

frontier line of the Black Sea, having learned the intentions of the

enemy, had made preparations for vigorously resisting his attempts.

Seeing the impossibility of receiving timely succour, he had nails

prepared to spike his cannons, in case the rampart should be carried,

and had a _reduit_ constructed in the interior of the redoubt, with

planks, tubs, and other suitable materials. Then collecting his whole

garrison, officers and soldiers, he proposed to them to blow up the

powder magazine, if they did not succeed in repulsing the enemy. The

proposal was received with an enthusiasm which the subsequent conduct of

the garrison proved to be genuine. The mountaineers were received with a

most destructive fire by the artillery of the fort, and could not make

themselves masters of the rampart until after an hour and half of

fighting, in which they suffered considerable loss. The heroic efforts

of the garrison having forced them back into the ditch, they took to

flight; but the mountain horsemen, who had remained on the watch at a

certain distance, fell with their sabres on the fugitives; and the

latter, seeing inevitable death on either hand, returned to the assault,

drove the garrison from the rampart, and forced it to retire into the

_reduit_, after it had set fire to all the stores and provisions of

every kind that were in the redoubt. Sharp-shooting went on for half an

hour; the firing then ceased, and the mountaineers were beginning to

congratulate themselves on their victory, when the powder magazine blew

up.[62] The garrison perished in accomplishing this act, memorable in

military annals; but with it perished all the mountaineers who were in

the redoubt. The details of the defence of the Veliaminof and Michael

redoubts have been divulged by the mountaineers themselves, and by some

soldiers who have escaped from slavery among them. The services of the

heroes who died thus on the field of honour, have been honoured by his

majesty the emperor, in the persons of their families; whose livelihood

has been insured, and whose children will be brought up at the expense

of the state. These redoubts are now once more occupied by the

detachment of troops operating on the eastern coasts of the Black Sea.

"The Navaguinsky fort has often been subjected to the attacks of the

mountaineers; but they have always been repulsed with the same valour

and steadiness. In one of these attacks, the mountaineers, availing

themselves of the darkness of night, and the noise of a tempest,

approached the fort without being perceived by the sentinels, surrounded

it on all sides, sprang suddenly to the assault with ladders and hooks,

made themselves masters of part of the rampart, and got into the fort.

Captain Podgoursky, its brave commandant, and Lieutenant Jacovlev, then

advanced against them with a part of the garrison. Both were killed on

the spot, but their death in no degree checked the ardour of the

soldiers, who fell upon the enemy with the bayonet, and drove them into

the ditch. The fight was maintained with the same enthusiasm on all the

other points of the fortifications, and the invalids themselves

voluntarily turned out from the hospital and took part in it. At

daybreak, after three hours hard fighting, the fort was cleared of the

enemy, who left in it a considerable number of killed and wounded.

"On the 26th of May, the Abinsky fort, situated between the Kouban and

the shore of the Black Sea, was surrounded at two in the morning by a

body of mountaineers 12,000 strong, who had assembled in the vicinity,

and suddenly assaulted the fort with loud shouts, and discharges from

their rifles. The hail of bullets, hand-grenades, and grape-shot with

which they were received did not check their ardour. Full of temerity

and contempt of death, they descended with marvellous promptitude and

agility into the ditch, and began to scale the rampart, thus blindly

seeking sure destruction. The warriors, clad in coats of mail,

penetrated repeatedly into the entrenchment, but were each time killed

or driven back. At last, in spite of all the efforts of the garrison, a

numerous party found their way into the interior of a bastion, and flung

themselves with flags unfurled into the interior of the fort. Colonel

Vecelofsky, the commandant, retaining all his presence of mind at this

critical moment, charged the enemy at the bayonet point, with a reserve

he had kept, of 40 men, and drove them out of the entrenchment, after

capturing two of their flags. This brilliant feat checked the audacity

of the assailants, and inflamed the courage of the garrison to the

highest pitch. The enemy, beaten on all points, took flight, carrying

off their dead, according to the custom of the Asiatics. Ten of their

wounded remained in the hands of the garrison, who found 685 dead in the

interior of the fort and in the ditches. The number of those whom the

mountaineers carried off to bury at home, was doubtless still more

considerable. The loss on our side was nine killed and eighteen wounded.

"At the time of the attack, the garrison of the Abinsky fort consisted

of a superior officer, fifteen officers, and 676 soldiers. The numerical

weakness of this force, proves of itself the extraordinary intrepidity

of all comprised in it, officers and soldiers, and their unanimous

resolution to defend with unswerving firmness the ramparts confided to

their courage."

It seems to us superfluous to offer any comment on this heroic bulletin.

We shall merely observe, that the most serious losses, the destruction

of the new road from the Kouban, the taking of fort St. Nicholas, and

that of several other forts, have been entirely forgotten in the

official statement, and no facts mentioned, but those which might be

interpreted in favour of Russia's military glory.

On the eastern side of the mountain the war was fully as disastrous for

the invaders. The imperial army lost 400 petty officers and soldiers,

and twenty-nine officers in the battle of Valrik against the

Tchetchenzes. The military colonies of the Terek were attacked and

plundered, and when General Golovin retired to his winter quarters at

the end of the campaign, he had lost more than three-fourths of his

men.

The Great Kabarda did not remain an indifferent spectator of the

offensive league formed by the tribes of the Caucasus; and when Russia,

suspecting with reason the unfriendly disposition of some tribes, made

an armed exploration on the banks of the Laba in order to construct

redoubts, and thus cut off the subjugated tribes from the others, the

general found the country, wherever he advanced, but a desert. All the

inhabitants had already retired to the other side of the Laba to join

their warlike neighbours.

Since that time fresh defeats have been made known through the press,

and in spite of all the mystery in which the war of the Caucasus is

sought to be wrapt, the truth has, nevertheless, transpired. The last

military operations of Russia have been as unproductive as those that

preceded them, and prove that no change has taken place in the

belligerents respectively. Thus we see that in despite of the resources

of the empire, and of the indomitable obstinacy of the emperor, the

position of Russia in the Caucasus has been quite stationary for sixty

years.

In considering this long series of disasters and unavailing efforts, we

are naturally led to inquire what have been the causes of this want of

success? We have already mentioned the topographical character of the

country, and the difficulties encountered by an invading army in regions

not accessible by the valleys, and we have given such details of the

manners and character of the mountaineers as may enable the reader to

conceive the obstinate and formidable nature of their resistance.

Nevertheless, seeing the absolute power of Nicholas, and the intense

importance he attaches to the conquest of the Caucasus, it is difficult

to admit that obstacles arising out of the nature of the ground and the

character of the population could not have been overcome in a region so

limited, if there were not other and more potent causes continually at

work to impede the military operations of Russia. These causes reside

chiefly in the deplorable state and constitution of the imperial armies.

In Russia there is no distinct commissariat department under

disinterested control, whether of the government or of superior

officers. It is the colonel himself of each regiment who provides the

rations, and as he is subject to no control, but acts really with

despotic authority, both he and his contractors have the amplest

possible opportunity to cheat the government and enrich themselves at

the expense of the troops. There are regiments in the Caucasus that

bring in from 80,000 to 100,000 francs to the colonel. As for the

subaltern officers, military submission on the one hand, and the

scantiness of their pay on the other, make them always ready to

participate in their commander's infamous speculations. What is the

result of this wretched corruption? It is that, notwithstanding the high

prices paid by the government, the contractors continue to send to the

Caucasus the most unwholesome stores, and grains almost always heated or

quite spoiled; for it is only in this way they can realise sufficient

profits to be able to satisfy the cupidity of their confederates, the

officers. I knew several merchants of Theodosia in the Crimea, men of

honour, who refused to have any thing to do with military supplies,

because they found it impossible to make the colonels and generals

accept sound articles.

This official robbery is nowhere carried on in a more scandalous manner

than in the Caucasus. It is there regularly established, and one may

conjecture the hardships and privations of the soldier from seeing the

luxurious tables of the lowest officers, most of whom have but from 1000

or 1200 rubles yearly pay. Certainly there are few sovereigns who take

more heed than Nicholas to the physical welfare of their soldiers, and

we must give full credit to his generous intentions in this respect; but

these are completely defeated by the corruption of his officers and

civil servants, by the total want of publicity, and by that base

servility which will always hinder an inferior from accusing his

superior. I have been present at several military inspections made by

general officers in the Caucasus, but never heard the least complaint

made by the soldiers; and when the general, calling them by companies

round him in a circle, questioned them respecting their victuals, they

all invariably replied in chorus, that they had nothing to complain of,

and were as well treated as possible. Their colonel's eye was upon them,

and they knew what the least word of complaint would have cost them; yet

they were dying by hundreds of scurvy, and other diseases engendered by

unwholesome food.

The government usually makes large purchases of butter in Siberia for

the army of the Caucasus; but this butter which would be of such great

utility in the military hospitals, and which costs as much as sixty-five

francs the twenty kilogrammes, very seldom passes further than Taganrok,

where it is sold in retail, and its place supplied with the worst

substitute that can be had. Nor does the robbery end there. The butter

fabricated in Taganrok is again made matter of speculation in the

Caucasus, and finally not a particle reaches the sick and drooping

soldiers. The other good provisions undergo nearly the same course.

When I was at Theodosia in 1840, there were in the military hospital of

the town 15,000 invalids, who were all dying for want of attendance and

good medicine. A Courland general (whom I could name) justly incensed at

these abuses, sent in a strong report of them directly to the emperor;

and twenty days afterwards, a superior officer, despatched by the

emperor himself, arrived on the spot. But the people about the hospital

were rich; they had taken their measures, and the result of this

mission, which looked so threatening at first, was a report extremely

satisfactory as to the zeal of the managers and the sanatory condition

of the establishment. The general was severely reprimanded, almost

disgraced, and the robbers continued to merit official encomiums. I did

not hear that they were rewarded by the government.

The most frightful mortality prevails among the troops in the Caucasus;

whole divisions disappear in the space of a few months, and the army is

used up and wholly renewed every three or four years. It is especially

in the small forts on the seaboard, where the mischiefs of bad food are

increased by almost total isolation, that diseases make frightful havoc,

particularly scurvy. In the spring of 1840, the twelfth division marched

to occupy the redoubts on the coasts of Circassia, and its effective

number was 12,000 men, quite an extraordinary circumstance. Four months

afterwards it was recalled to take part in the expedition at that time

projected against the Viceroy of Egypt. When it landed at Sevastopol it

was reduced to 1500 men. In the same year the commander-in-chief, in

visiting the forts of the seaboard, found but nine men fit for service

out of 300 that composed the garrison of Soukhoum Kaleh. According to

official returns, the average deaths on the seaboard of Circassia in

1841 and 1842, were 17,000 in each year.

Is it to be wondered that with such a military administration, Russia

makes no progress in the Caucasus? What can be expected of armies in

which want of all necessaries and total disregard for the lives of men

are the order of the day? The divisions and regiments in the Caucasus

are in a state of permanent disorganisation, and the courage and

activity of the troops sink altogether under the influence of the

diseases by which they are incessantly mowed down. It needs all the

force of discipline, all the stoic self-denial of the soldier, and,

above all, the incessant renovation of the garrisons, to hinder the

Russians from being driven out of all their positions.

People often ask with surprise why Russia does not take the field with

200,000 or even 300,000 men at once. We have already given sufficiently

circumstantial details on the topography of the Caucasus, to enable

every one to perceive immediately how difficult it is to employ large

armies in regions so inaccessible, and so wonderfully defended by

nature. Nor, on the other hand, must it be forgotten that the official

strength of the army of the Caucasus is always at least 160,000 men. Its

real strength, indeed, very seldom exceeds 80,000; but its proportion to

the grand total of the imperial forces, paid as if they were at the

full, still remains the same, and it is impossible, under existing

circumstances, that the government should augment the number of its

troops without most seriously increasing the already embarrassed

condition of the finances. Another consideration of still greater weight

is, that the movements of large armies are attended with extreme

difficulty in Russia, to a degree unknown in any other country of

Europe. In all the discussions that are held on the subject of the war

in the Caucasus, the immense difficulties of the transport of men,

military stores, and provisions, have never been taken into account, and

people have always reasoned as if the Caucasus was situated in the midst

of the tzar's dominions. A glance at the map of Russia will suffice to

show, that those mountains lying on the most southern verge of the

empire, are separated by real deserts from the great centres of the

Russian population, and that to repair to the banks of the Kouban from

the first governments where troops are recruited, they must traverse

more than 150 leagues of country inhabited by Cossacks and Kalmucks, in

which the nature of the soil and of the inhabitants forbids any

cantonment of reserves.