SOUKOUM.
The next morning it was discovered, to the vexation of all on board,
that we had overshot our mark. A headland had been mistaken, and the
yacht was some miles beyond Soukoum-Kalé. We had to work our way back
again therefore, and it was mid-day before the anchor was dropped in
the roadstead opposite the little town.
Navigation off this coast is very difficult. There are but few charts,
and even these few are not correct. Indeed it is hinted that there
is no desire that the difficulties should be diminished.
The country around Soukoum is quite as beautiful as any we have yet
seen; but the town itself, though its low, white houses scattered along
the shore and up the sides of the wooded hills are picturesque enough,
seems a small, insignificant place, little more than a Russian fort.
A Russian transport and three small ships of war were anchored near
us, the decks and yards thronged with people anxious to see such an
unusual, such a wonderful sight as an English yacht. The Claymore has
the honour of being the first vessel to fly the Royal Yacht Squadron
flag at Soukoum-Kalé.
On shore the same excitement prevailed. The beach was crowded with
people, who watched our movements with the greatest interest and
curiosity, evidently brought to a culminating point when they saw
ladies and children on board. The English consul, Mr. D----, soon
arrived, kindly anxious to give every assistance. By-and-by the
governor and admiral, attended by their aides-de-camp, also came on
board; and after a time we went on shore with them.
The beach where we landed was crowded with Russians and Circassians,
many of the latter the wildest-looking creatures imaginable. They were
mostly however fine, tall men, with remarkably erect and graceful
figures, intelligent faces, and large, dark, fiery eyes. Their
dignified bearing was in marked contrast to the depressed appearance
and careworn countenances of the majority of the Russians.
In poverty and in rags a Circassian retains his independent,
self-relying manner, and looks (what he generally is) a bold
mountaineer, who, notwithstanding his nominal submission to a foreign
power, preserves his liberty, and, with gun and sword, can defend his
own against the world. This same gun and sword, it is asserted, are
not unfrequently turned to other and less legitimate uses, for their
owner does not scruple to avail himself of any favourable opportunity
of enriching his purse by their aid.
The Circassian dress is very picturesque. Large, loose trousers are
tucked into high boots, with a dark coat made full in the skirts,
whilst across the chest is a row of long, narrow pouches, in which the
ammunition is carried. The high cap is made of coarse cloth, the lower
part covered with sheepskin. The horsemen from the mountains wear,
instead of this cap, a long pointed hood, called a "papack," made of
canvas and shaped like a monk's cowl, with two long ends that hang
over the shoulders. Each man carries a carbine, rolled in sheepskin,
slung at his back, and has pistols (often handsomely mounted in silver)
stuck into his girdle.
Circassians, as a rule, have singularly small hands and feet, and the
beauty of the latter is much enhanced by the boots they wear. These
boots are made without soles, and are of scarlet or crimson leather
so well prepared, and so fine in texture, that they at once take the
shape of the foot, and fit like gloves.
The houses in Soukoum are low, being seldom more than one storey
high; but they are very pretty, being generally surrounded by broad
verandahs that are covered with creepers, and having gardens full of
flowering trees and shrubs.
About the middle of the town, or village, is a large rough square,
the exercising-ground of the troops; and beyond this again, bordered
by a double row of trees, is a sort of road called by the dignified
name of the Boulevard. All the best houses are here, including those
of the governor and admiral. There may have been eight or ten more
of nearly equal size. The others were very small, containing but two,
or perhaps three rooms.
The road was exceedingly pretty, with its fine trees; and a raised
pathway under their shade made a very pleasant walk. It led to a
rough common, where several large flocks of geese were disporting
themselves in the little clear pools of water.
For some reason or other,--why we never clearly understood,--Russians
have an idea that the goose is the pet bird of all English homesteads,
and that a flock of geese has a romantic charm to the English eye
far beyond that which any other bird can possess. These geese were,
therefore, pointed out to us by our companions as likely to awake
many tender reminiscences of home. But it is a sad and, perhaps also,
a humiliating confession to make, that instead of contemplating
these excellent birds with feelings of tenderness, as suggestive
of home nooks and corners in dear Old England, we gazed upon them
with sentiments of the lowest and most earthly domestic interest. A
tolerably long course of skinny chickens and preserved meats had so
deteriorated our higher tastes and sensibilities, and had so sharpened
our appetites, that the first thought was that now we would have roast
goose for dinner, and that the excellent Domenico could replenish
the empty poultry-coops.
But in truth the scene was very pretty, and wonderfully like
England. The heathy common, with its patches of gorse and tufts of
"bracken," the white cottages peeping out amidst the trees, the groups
of birch and alder bushes that skirted the little pools, the clumps of
rugged old Scotch firs, made us feel for a moment that we must have
been seated on Prince Hussein's magic carpet, and in the twinkling
of an eye had been transported to a sunny glade in the Hampshire New
Forest. But ere the thought found words, a herd of buffaloes crossing
the path, and then a group of wild figures armed to the teeth, their
dark eyes glittering fiercely from beneath their white hoods as they
dashed rapidly by, speedily dispelled the illusion, and showed how
far we were from the peaceful highways and byways of home.
In a beautiful nook on the slope of a hill is a charming little house,
a perfect bower of roses. This is the English consulate, and as far
as the desires of the eye can be gratified, man could not wish for
anything more lovely; but Mr. D----, as well as most people here,
has been suffering acutely from fever.
The very beauty we admire, namely, the wondrous luxuriance of the
vegetation, is one of the great evils of the country, or rather becomes
so, from the carelessness and indolence of man. Were the land properly
cultivated, Abasia (as this part of Circassia is called) would be
a paradise. The soil is so fertile, and the climate so temperate,
that nearly every description of grain, fruit, and vegetable might
be grown with very little trouble.
It seems almost incredible that in a country so rich and productive
that a few hours' industry would insure an abundant harvest, every
fruit and vegetable, including even potatoes, should be imported
from Trebisonde.
Unhappily the Circassians are too proud and too indolent to work,
and until better guarantees can be given for the preservation of life
and property, colonists cannot of course be expected to settle.
At present the Russian soldiers are the only agricultural labourers,
and as their military duties are severe, the result is that only
sufficient ground is cultivated to supply the horses with hay and
forage.
Military service in the Caucasus has been for many years unpopular
amongst the Russian regiments. The duty is arduous, and the great
distance from the capital causes it to be looked upon, especially by
the officers, as a banishment little inferior to that of being sent
to serve in Siberia. Indeed, some of those we knew were of opinion
the northern was the less objectionable station of the two, for the
constant attacks of fever, from which it seems almost impossible to
escape, cause, not only exhaustion of body, but a mental depression
that is very trying to the sufferers.
This accounted for the haggard and cadaverous appearance of so
large a proportion of the soldiery. We hear also that the ratio of
mortality is very large. Fever prevails all the summer, and is more
or less dangerous according to the quantity of rain that falls, but
during the months of July and August it usually rages with frightful
severity. During a rainy season the mortality is quite terrible.
Last year out of five thousand soldiers three thousand were suffering
from fever, while there was not one case amongst the seamen on board
the Russian men-of-war lying at anchor opposite the town.
Vessels, during the summer months, remain as far away in the roadstead
as possible, the air from the town being so fraught with disease.
During the course of our walk we ascended a little detached hill
called the Upper Fort, and felt immediately the relief of being
able to breathe the fresh invigorating mountain breeze, after the
relaxing warmth and dampness of the air in the town below. Happily
the hospitals are here, for it is the only really healthy spot in
Soukoum. Were the sick obliged to remain in the valley, the deaths
would probably be doubled.
Close to the fort is a small house where Omar Pasha lived with some
of his wives when the Turkish army occupied Abasia. It is quite
a tiny place, only containing four rooms, but notwithstanding the
confined space, the poor women, it is said, were never allowed to
go out. Tradition, however, does not say whether their beauty was so
dazzling that it was not safe to risk their being seen by the profane
eyes of unbelieving Giaours.
The views on all sides were most lovely, but the very beauty had an
air of desolate grandeur that produced a feeling of depression. A
perfect network of steep narrow valleys extended beyond the region of
wooded hills immediately before us. Great banks of forest clothed their
steep sides, stretching far away, dark and silent, until their gloomy
outlines were lost in the shadowy recesses of the mountains. Here
and there the silver line of a distant water-fall caught the rays of
the setting sun, and glittered for a few minutes amidst the sombre
masses of the woods; but, though so near the town, no sound broke the
stillness--no song of birds, no voice of man, no cheerful token of the
neighbourhood of cattle or home life disturbed the silence of evening.
We had followed a sort of track that skirted the nearest valley. Wild
flowers grew around in such beauty and profusion that it was impossible
not to gather handfuls as we passed. Honeysuckle and eglantine
hung in garlands from every bush; wild hops and vines festooned the
trees. In every rocky hollow were tufts of the pretty caper-plant,
with its lovely blossoms of mauve and white, while the ground seemed
covered with bright geraniums, many-tinted asters, late cyclamen,
and the dwarf myrtle. And then the wondrous beauty of the mossy wood
we entered next, where the sunbeams quivered over a perfect carpet
of lovely grasses, lichens, and graceful ferns. Charming though it
was, we dared not prolong our stroll, for the sun was sinking low,
and not only is the evening air supposed to be laden with fever,
but our companions assured us that it would be scarcely prudent to
be beyond the fort when night had come. We quickened our steps, but
notwithstanding all our haste, it was nearly dusk before we arrived
at the town.
It was startling to see, from time to time, a wild horseman gallop
by, looking all the more wild and eerie from the dim uncertain
light. Mounted on little wiry horses, they rode at headlong speed
towards the gloomy passes in the mountains, and long after they were
out of sight we could hear their swords clattering against their
large stirrups as they dashed rapidly over the rough ground.
It is difficult to find adequate words in which to express our sense
of the great kindness of all our friends in Soukoum. Not only have
horses and an escort of Cossacks been placed at our disposal during
the whole of our stay, but every little wish has been anticipated. As
to our poultry coops, they have been filled to overflowing with the
best poultry the place can produce, and the milk of the only available
cow in the town has been devoted to our use. The wish of seeing the
various ferns and wild flowers of the country speedily brought baskets
of the most lovely specimens on board the yacht. Music and sketches
were also among the generous gifts. In short, so great has been the
kindness, that words fail with which to describe it.
Should, however, these few pages be ever seen by any of the kind and
accomplished friends who made Circassia even a more enchanting land
to us than we had pictured it in our dreams, they will see that they
are remembered with feelings of the truest gratitude and admiration
by their English guests.
Few people are more accomplished than the Russians; and in this
remote corner of the world we have had musical evenings that would
have obtained approval from the most fastidious connoisseur.
Beethoven and Chopin probably little thought their delicious melodies
would beguile many a weary hour in countries beyond the Black Sea.
The Governor arranged, soon after our arrival, to take us a long ride
towards the mountains, and on landing at the appointed hour we found
General B---- awaiting us with quite a troop of men and horses drawn
up on the beach.
Besides the horses provided for us, others had been prepared
for Domenico and Mr. D----'s servant, who, under the guidance and
protection of four soldiers, were to go on a foraging expedition to a
neighbouring village. Domenico, as we have said, has many excellent
qualities, but courage is not perhaps his most brilliant virtue. At
the last moment his small amount of valour failed him. He entreated
with such a rueful countenance to be allowed to go with our stronger
party--with earnest gesticulations and in a torrent of Neapolitan
he drew so moving a picture of what our feelings would be if he were
brought back dead instead of the chickens--that our hearts were moved,
and it was settled that he and the other servant should accompany
us, and take the chance of what good luck might send in the shape of
geese and turkeys.
The escort consisted of six Cossacks and a corporal. All were well
armed with muskets, pistols, &c., but the horses they rode were so
thin, and seemed so out of condition, that we wondered at first how
the poor things could stand.
We had not long started, however, before we perceived that they went
wonderfully well, and actually looked better at the end of the ride
than they did at the beginning.
The horses provided for us were beautiful little Persian Arabs,
lively yet gentle, perfectly free from vice, and having a light
springy action most delightful to their riders. General B---- had
bought them in Persia, and had paid a large price for them even there.
The guide, a young Circassian, grandly arrayed in a brilliant yellow
coat and scarlet boots, and fully armed with matchlock, pistols,
and sabre, rode at the head of the troop.
Circassian saddles look exceedingly clumsy and uncomfortable. They are
very peaked and very high, but the Circassians are first-rate horsemen;
they use short stirrups, have the regular English hunting-seat,
holding on by the knees, and rise in their trot in a very unmilitary
but thoroughly jockey-like fashion.
We had our own saddles, and they evidently excited much wonder amongst
the little crowd that had collected. We were watched with absorbed
interest, as the various preparations of tightening girths, &c.,
were made, but when at last Mr. Harvey mounted my sister and myself
in the English fashion, the feelings of the spectators found vent in
a little cry of astonishment.
We were deeply impressed with the warlike fashion of our departure. The
guide and two Cossacks rode in front, then came General B----,
some Russian officers, and ourselves, followed by the rest of the
soldiers, and a formidable jingling and clattering there was as the
little troop swept through the town.
We crossed the common, and entered a very pretty wood of beech and
oak trees. Occasional openings showed the sea on one side, and on
the other low, steep, wooded hills, with huge boulders of granite
rearing their grey sides above the trees.
Some of the masses of rock were so smooth and round that they looked
like gigantic marbles, as if the Titans had been disporting themselves
amidst the lofty summits of El-Barouz, and had rolled some of their
playthings into the valleys beneath.
From time to time we passed long narrow glens that gave vistas of
apparently endless chains of hill and mountain; the nearest looking
dark purple in the strong light, others beyond growing gradually
paler and less distinct, until they became at last blended with the
blue distance, a faint glimmer of snow alone indicating the most
distant peaks.
As the day wore on a soft breeze arose, that just rustled the leaves
and made the air fresh and cool, doubly refreshing after the great
heat of the morning. The earth gave forth the sweet scent that so
often comes after heavy dew. The grassy way was good; our horses were
excellent. It was delightful to be once more on horseback--a pleasure
we had not had for months; so, giving the rein to our willing steeds,
on we went at a pace that evidently astonished the Cossacks, and
delighted kind General B---- and our Circassian. As for the latter
he was fairly enchanted; he waved his arms above his head, rose in
his stirrups, and bending over his horse's neck, dashed forward at
full speed.
This rapid pace, however, could not be kept up after leaving the
grassy plain, for we then entered the hill country, where forest and
thick underwood made the way more difficult, and where treacherous
bogs had to be skirted and sometimes traversed.
These bogs during the winter and spring are almost impassable. During
the summer months they can be crossed in certain directions. In
consequence of the late drought, they are just now unusually firm,
but nevertheless we had to jump over several little watercourses and
dangerously green places.
Sometimes, too, the ground shook under the horses' feet as if it meant
to swallow us up, but our sagacious animals made their way with the
utmost precaution, and evidently thoroughly understood their business.
Very dreary-looking places were these bogs, as they lay brown and
gloomy under the shadow of the forest, their treacherous surface only
broken here and there by bushes of stunted birch-trees. We could
well understand how goblin-like must seem the myriad lights of the
will-o'-the-wisps, as they dance in unearthly fashion over such dark
and dangerous morasses.
Again we plunged into the thick forest, and another hour's riding
brought us to the entrance of a narrow defile, the gateway, as it were,
to the mountain regions.
The way became rough and difficult, being merely the bed of a mountain
torrent, and the number of loose and slippery stones made it very
troublesome for the horses to find secure footing. The scenery grew
wild and stern; great masses of rock hung over the pass, in many
places almost meeting overhead.
Little streams came rushing down from the heights, tumbling headlong
over the precipice, when they arrived at the steep walls of rocks
that hemmed us in on every side.
The defile, or rather ravine, for it was evidently but a passage the
stream had worn for itself in the course of countless ages of time,
was so deep and narrow that it made one quite giddy to look up.
Vertigo ordinarily affects the head when looking down; we had never
known the sensation before when looking up at a great height; but the
rapid passage of the clouds across the narrow, crooked opening above,
when looked at for a few minutes, made everything seem to whirl round.
Wherever a few broken stones had allowed a little earth to collect,
masses of rhododendrons and groups of birch had taken root. Their
graceful forms and bright green leaves made cheerful spots of life
and beauty amidst the rugged severity of the gloomy scene.
As we advanced further into the pass, not a sound was heard but the
rush of the mountain torrents, and the harsh cry of an eagle as he
wheeled slowly over our heads.
We all became silent. It was almost disagreeable to hear the champing
of the horses, and the occasional rattle of the accoutrements, as we
moved slowly but steadily on, our companions keeping a wary look-out
on all sides, though it was believed that the country was at present
unusually quiet.
Still a very few more miles must be our limit. It would not be prudent
to advance much farther into the wild region before us.
It must be admitted that on first starting we had thought our warlike
escort was more for honour than for real use, but even before we had
entered this savage defile it was evident how well it was for us that
we were surrounded by so many brave protectors. "Prevention is better
than cure," and a strong party often prevents an attack being made.
Once amidst the gloomy defiles and dark recesses of these wild
mountains defenceless travellers would have no chance against a
predatory band; they would be as sheep walking into a lion's den.
From time to time we had met parties of mountaineers, some on
horseback, some on foot, but all completely and heavily armed.
Although in actual distance so few versts from the town, the
mountains surround it so closely--the country is so desolate, and also
intersected even in the lowlands by ravines and morasses--that, had we
been alone, resistance to these armed bands would have been hopeless.
Before assistance could have arrived we should, in all probability,
have been conveyed away to some distant fortress, there to remain
until the required ransom had been paid.
The astonishment of the Circassians to see women riding in the European
fashion was most amusing. Native women, when they travel, ride like
men. It was evidently a deep mystery to them how we continued to keep
on. They generally pulled up and watched us as long as we remained
in sight, expecting, probably hoping, we should ere long fall off.
One man was so absorbed in wonder that he lost his seat. His horse
made a sudden jump, and the rider fell so heavily, and with such a
crash, that we thought he must be killed. However, in a few seconds,
to our great relief, he jumped up, looking very crest-fallen (for
such an accident is accounted exceedingly disgraceful), and climbed
into his saddle amidst the jeers and laughter of his companions.
It may easily be supposed how delightful and interesting we found
the ride. But pleasures must come to an end; days are short in these
parts; evening was coming on, and it would be risking too much to
let darkness find us on such dangerous ground.
Unwillingly, therefore, we had to content ourselves with
longing glances at the wild ravines that branched upwards in all
directions. The solitude, the gloom, the inexpressible grandeur of
the dark frowning rocks, the very danger, gave an additional charm,
and, like true women, we longed the more to penetrate into the
forbidden land.
Fortunately we were all too much accustomed to mountain travelling
to feel nervous when traversing narrow and lofty ledges, for it was
decided that it would be more prudent to avoid the pass by which we
had entered, and so regain the town by a different route. Our guide,
therefore, led us up the face of a precipice by a pathway that looked
only fit for goats, but the clever little horses made their way with
a steadiness and skill beyond praise, and of which all the cavalcade
could not boast, for at one or two uncommonly skeary places poor
Domenico lost heart and dismounted, preferring to trust to his own
powers of climbing, a very unwise proceeding on his part, for a horse
will often make his way safely where a man's nerve may completely
fail him.
We found it better not to look down too much. When we were occasionally
able to do so, the savage wildness of the scene was inexpressibly
grand, especially at one point where, on turning sharply round the
shoulder of an almost perpendicular rock, we found ourselves hanging as
it were over a chasm black as night itself, and where, at an immense
depth beneath, we could hear the roar and chafing of waters, though
the torrent itself was invisible in the darkness of the depth below.
Slowly and carefully we made our way down the steep side of the ravine,
until we arrived at the bed of the stream that was to serve as road to
take us back into the hill country. At this season the brown, turbid
current, though it roared angrily over the many rocks and stones
that impeded its course, was not deep, and, after the slipping and
climbing we had had for the last hour, it was quite pleasant only to
have to wade through water, notwithstanding the occasional splashings
that it entailed.
This gorge was quite as narrow as that by which we had entered, and on
emerging from its darkness and gloom into the brightness and verdure
of the hills, we felt as Dante must have done when he returned to
earth from his visit to the Inferno.
The stream partook of the character of the scene, and soon after
entering the grassy plains and verdant woods became a pretty rippling
river, though the masses of stones on each side its bed showed that
its violence could be again excited by the winter rains.
A few versts from the town, on a steep grass bank, shaded by a
picturesque group of beech, was a very pretty wooden house (the
only habitation we had seen all day), something like a large Swiss
chalet. The mother and family of the late Prince Dimitri Sherwasidzi,
who died a few months ago, live here. The ladies, dressed in deep
mourning, were sitting in the broad verandah. They wore black woollen
robes, and had veils of the same sombre material wrapped round their
heads. The dress was most funereal. The tall, slender women, with
their gloomy drapery, that hung around them in heavy but graceful
folds, looked like figures from a Greek frieze. Mourning here is
very rigid. For three months after the death of the head of a family,
the ladies see no visitors excepting near relatives. Every week the
Princess Sherwasidzi, attended by her women, visits the grave of her
son. For several hours they weep and mourn, casting ashes upon their
heads with lamentable cries and screams.
Standing a little apart from the family dwelling is another
similar but smaller house, entirely devoted to the entertainment of
guests. Hospitality is much esteemed and largely practised by the
upper class of Circassians. No greater praise can be awarded than to
say that a man "keeps forty tables."
The ride back in the cool evening was very pleasant, but devoid of
incident, with the exception of seeing our poor Domenico sent flying
over his horse's head. After having so well surmounted all the little
difficulties of the day, his horse stumbled over a sand hillock,
and this inglorious somersault was the result. Happily no harm was
done beyond a torn coat, but the Cossacks were immensely delighted at
his discomfiture. Even the grim old corporal gave his grey moustache
a pull to hide the unwonted smile in which he indulged.