Recently I got my hands on a book, printed in Paris in the past 1834 was called: Travels in the Orient undertaken by order of the French Government #. Author, in their own way describing the campaign 1829 of the year, He ends his discussion with the words:
A poet distinguished by his imagination found in so many deeds of which he witnessed it the subject of a poem, but that of a satyr #.
of poets, former Turkish campaign, I only knew about the A. WITH. Khomyakov and an A. n. Murav'ev. Both were in the Army Dibicha Count. The first written while several beautiful lyrical poems, second thought about his journey to the holy places, performing the so impressed. But I have not read any satire on Arzrumsky hike.
No way I could think, the point here is about me, if in the same book, I did not find his name among the names of the generals separate Caucasian Corps. Among the leaders who commanded the (the army of Prince Paskewitch) one distinguished General Mouravief ... Prince ... Prince Tsitsevaze Georgian Armenian Beboutof ... Prince Potemkin, General Raiewsky, and finally - M-r ... Pushkin who had left the capital to sing the exploits of his countrymen #.
I confess: these lines by the French traveler, despite the flattering epithets, I was much vexed, rather than scolding Russian magazines. Search for inspiration has always struck me as funny and ridiculous quirks: Inspiration will not find; but it has to find a poet. Come to war with the, to chant the future exploits, it would be for me, one side, too proud, and on the other - too obscenely. I do not interfere in military judgments. It's none of my business. May be, daring crossing of the Sagan-lu, motion, Kojima Count Paskevich cut serasker by Osman Pasha, defeat the enemy two buildings within one day, a quick trip to the Arzrum, all this, a complete success, may be, and extremely worthy hissing in the eyes of military men (what, eg, g. Merchant Consul Fontanier, travel writer in the East); but I would be ashamed to write satire on the famous commander, kindly accept me under the shadow of his tent and is in the midst of their great concerns I have flattering attention. Person, not having a strong need for patronage, cherish their warmth and hospitality, For another of them may not even require. The accusation of ingratitude should not be left without objections, how insignificant literary criticism or scolding. That's why I decided to publish this preface and give your travel notes, as everybody, that I have been written about the campaign 1829 of the year.
steppe. hosts Kalmıtskaya. caucasian water. Georgian Military Road. Vladikavkaz. Ossetian funeral. Terek. Darialskoe gorge. Moving through the snowy mountains. First Look at Georgia. aqueducts. Hozrev-Mirza. Dushetskyy mayor.
... From Moscow I went to Kaluga, Belev and Eagle, and he did so 200 extra miles; therefore realized Ermolova. He lives in Orel, near whose is his village. I came to see him at eight o'clock in the morning and did not find him at home. My cab driver said to me,, Yermolov that no one is, but to his father, simple pious old man, it does not take alone, city officials, and that any other access free. An hour later I returned to him. Yermolov received me with his usual amiability. At first glance, I did not find it the slightest resemblance to his portraits, usually by written profile. round face, fire, grey eyes, gray hair stand on end. Head of Hercules tiger on SARS. unpleasant smile, because it is not natural. When he thinks and frowns, it becomes a beautiful and strikingly resembles a poetic portrait, pysannыy Dovom *. He was in a green Circassian chekmen. On the walls of his office hung swords and daggers, monuments of his rule in the Caucasus. is he, apparently, eagerly demolishing their inaction. Several times he was taken to talk about Paskevich always caustically; speaking of the ease of its victories, He compared it to Joshua, in front of which the walls were falling from the tube sound, and called Earl Erivan Earl Erihonskim. "Let them attack, he, - talking Ermolov, - on the plow is not clever, not skilled, but stubborn, for example in the pasture, governor of Shumla, - Paskevich and gone ". I passed the word Yermolov gr. Tolstoy *, Paskevich that acted so well in the Persian campaign, that the wise man would only have to act worse, To distinguish it from the. Yermolov laughed, but I did not agree. "It would be possible to save people and costs", - he said. I think, what he writes or wants to write their own notes. He is dissatisfied with Karamzin's History; he would like, to fiery pen portrayed the Russian people the transition from nothingness to stardom and power. The note book. Kurbsky said he con amore #. Germans got. "50 years later - he said, - think, that in the current campaign has been supporting the Prussian or the Austrian army, to chair such a German generals ". I stayed with him for two hours. He was annoyed, that remembered my full name. He apologized compliments. The conversation touched several times literature. About Griboyedov verses he says, that from reading them - cheekbones hurt. About government and politics was not a word.
I had way through Kursk and Kharkov; but I turned aside on a straight road Tiflis, sacrificing a good dinner in the restaurant Kursk (it is not a trifle in our travels) and curious to visit the University of Kharkov, that does not cost the restaurant Kursk.
Before Yelets terrible road. Several times my wheelchair got stuck in the mud, decent dirt Odessa. I happened to pass a day not more than fifty miles. Finally I saw the Voronezh and Steppe freely rolled on the green plain. In Novocherkassk I found Count Pushkin *, who was riding in Tiflis, and we agreed to travel together.
The transition from Europe to Asia is made more sensitive by the hour: forests are disappearing, hills smoothed, grass thickens and is a great strength of vegetation; showing birds, unknown in our forests; Eagles sit on the bumps, means more road, as though on guard, and proudly look at the traveler; fat pastures of
Kobыlits neukrotimыh *
Proudly roam herds.
Kalmucks arranged near station Hut. In their tents graze their ugly, shaggy horses, familiar to you through beautiful drawings Orlovsky.
A few days ago I visited the Kalmyk tent (checkered fence, covered with white felt). The whole family was going to lunch; pot cooked in the middle, and the smoke went into the hole, made in the top of the tent. young Kalmyk, him very badly, awl, smoking tobacco. I sat down beside her. "What's your name?» – «***». - "How old are you?"-" Ten and eight ". - "What do you sew?"-" trousers ". - "Who?"-" Himself ". - She gave me his pipe and began to eat breakfast. The brewed tea pot with mutton fat and salt. She offered me a dipper. I did not want to give up and gulped, trying not to translate the spirit. I do not think, to other people's kitchen could make anything nastier. I asked for something to seize it. I was given a piece of dried kobylyatiny; I was pleased and the. Kalmyk flirting scared me; I quickly got out of the sledge and went from the steppe Circe.
Stavropol I saw at the edge of the clouds of heaven, struck my eyes exactly nine years. They were all the same, all in the same place. This - the snowy peaks of the Caucasus chain.
From Georgievsk I went to Hot Water. Here I found a great change. In my bath time we were in hovels, hastily built. sources, mostly in its primitive form, been, smoked and flowed from the mountains in different directions, leaving a white and reddish marks. We drew vehement scoop water from the bark or the bottom of a broken bottle. Now built the magnificent baths and houses. Boulevard, planted lindens, carried out by declination Mashuk. Everywhere spotlessly clean track, green shop, proper beds, bridges, pavilions. fashioned keys, lined with stone; on bath walls nailed instructions from the police; everywhere the order, purity, Beautiful ...
I confess: Caucasian waters are now more convenient; but I felt sorry for their former wild state; I felt sorry for the steep stone paths, shrubs and unfenced precipices, over which, happened, I clambered. With sadness I left water and went back to Georgievsk. Soon night came. Clear skies dotted with millions of stars. I drove shore Podkumok. Here, happened, I used to sit with me, And. Rajewski, listening to water music. Besht stately black and black pictured in the distance, surrounded by mountains, his vassals, and finally disappeared in the darkness ...
The next day we went on and came to Ekaterinograd, onetime vicegeral city.
With Ekaterinograd begins Georgian Military Road; post road stops. Hire horses to Vladikavkaz. Given an escort of Cossacks and infantry and one gun. Mail is sent twice a week, and visitors to join her: this is called a convenient opportunity. We waited for a short time. Mail arrived the next day, and on the third morning at nine o'clock we were ready to hit the road. At the assembly site united whole caravan, consisting of five hundred people or so. Struck the drum. we started. Ahead gun went, surrounded by infantry soldiers. Behind her stretched out stroller, lizzie, soldiers' tents, to move from one castle to another; behind them creaked two-wheeled carts Bora. On both sides ran horse herds and herds of oxen,. They rode around nagayskie Guides in burkas and lassos. All this at first I really liked, but soon tired. The gun went step, fitily kurilsya, soldiers and puffed them their pipes. The slowness of our march (the first day we passed only ten miles), nesnosnaâ grill, lack prypasov, restless accommodations, Finally continuous skryp nagayskih Bora makes me patience. Tatars do pride this skrypom, speaking, they drive about as honest people, have no need to hide. This time it would be nicer to me to travel in the not too respectable society. The road is quite monotonous: plane, on the sides of hills. On the edge of the peaks of the Caucasus sky, every day are higher and higher. fortress, sufficient for the local edge, with rvom, that each of us would have not jumped upswing in the old days, zarzhavymi with guns, Do not shoot from the time of the count Gudovich, with the collapse of the shaft, for which roams the garrison hens and geese. In several fortresses lachuzhek, where one can hardly get a dozen eggs and yoghurt.
First there is a wonderful place Minaret fortress. Approaching her, our caravan drove through the lovely valley, between mounds, obrosshimi Lipo and chinarom. This is the grave of several thousand dead chumoyu. gay with flowers, generated infected ash. Right shined snow Caucasus; He stood in front of a huge, wooded mountain; behind it was a fortress. Around it there are traces of the ruined village, Tatartubom called and were once primarily in the Great Kabarda. Easy lone minaret indicates the existence of the disappeared village. He gracefully rises between piles of stones, on the banks of the stream withered. An internal staircase has not collapsed. I climbed on it to the site, which does not have a voice a mullah. There I found a few unknown names, scrawled on the bricks slavolyubivymi travelers.
It is our way to make picturesque. Mountains stretched over us. They are crawling on their tops barely visible herds and seemed insects. We have differences and shepherd, may be, Russian, once captured and sostarevshegosya in captivity. We met another mounds, more ruins. Two, three tombstone stood on the roadside. There, according to the custom of the Circassians, buried their riders. Tatar inscription, Checkers image, Thong, Etched in stone, grandchildren are left prey to the memory predatory ancestor.
Circassians hate us. We drove them out of the pastures Privolnaya; their ruined villages, whole tribes wiped out. They are by the hour further deep into the mountains and from there direct their raids. Friendship peaceful Circassians unreliable: they are always ready to help his violent kins. wild spirit of chivalry has fallen markedly. They rarely attack in equal numbers on the Cossacks, never infantry and run, envied pushku. But never miss the occasion to attack the weak or defenseless squad. The local side is full of rumors about their misdeeds. Almost no way to pacify them, until they disarm, how to disarm the Crimean Tatars, it is extremely difficult to fulfill, due to prevailing between their hereditary feuds and blood revenge. Dagger and sword are members of their bodies, and the baby starts to own them before, than babble. They murder - a simple gesture. Captives they retain in the hope of redemption, but treat them with a terrible inhumanity, forced to work beyond their strength, feed raw dough, beat, at will, and put to him for custody of their boys, which in one word to the right of their children to chop up their swords. Recently caught peaceful Circassian, Shot in Soldier. He justified the, that his gun was loaded with too long. What to do with those people? Well but should hope, that the acquisition of the eastern edge of the Black Sea, Circassians cut off from trade with Turkey, force them to get close to us. Influence of luxury may favor their taming: samovar would have been an important innovation. A means stronger, more moral, more consistent with the education of our century: preaching the gospel. Circassians very recently adopted the Mohammedan faith. They were keen on active fanaticism Quran apostles, wherewith between different Mansour, an extraordinary man, long was indignant Caucasus Opposite Russian domination, finally caught us and who died at the Solovetsky Monastery. Caucasus expects Christian missionaries. But it is easier for our laziness in the replacement of the words of the living dead pour letter and send books to people dumb, who are illiterate.
We reached Vladikavkaz, former Capcom, mountains vestibule. It is surrounded by Ossetian auls. I visited one of them and got to the funeral. Near the hut was crowded. In the courtyard stood a cart, drawn by two oxen. Relatives and friends of the deceased gathered from all directions and with loud cries went in Saclay, beating his fists on the forehead. Women stood at attention. Dead man carried on a cloak ...
…like a warrior* taking his rest
With high martial cloak around him;#