Fig. 19. Archimandrite and Deacon at Vardzia.
We passed along the footway for some distance, with grottoes above us and beneath. Then we came to an imposing vaulted balcony, of which the inner side and roof are hollowed in the rock, and the other parts are built up with masonry. The footway forms the floor of this balcony, which looks important when seen from below. The vaulted ceiling is adorned with old frescos, which are in a state of advanced decay. A doorway opens from the inner wall to a spacious cave—an oblong area with an arched roof, disposed in the familiar shape of a simple nave and apse. This church has a length of 46 feet 3 inches and a breadth of 27 feet. For decoration it depends upon richly-coloured frescos, some of which may still be seen. In the apse are depicted Mary and the infant Christ; on the Virgin’s right is placed a female aureoled figure, clad in white and with embroidered bands. On a pilaster, left of the apse, you discern the features of a woman whose dark complexion impresses the eye. It seems an Egyptian type; she has been honoured with an aureole; the old priest declared the portrait to be Queen Thamar’s, but he was almost certainly in error. In the panel of the arch, which lies beyond, a king and queen are represented, aureoled, their hands extended towards a stage upon which are seated the Virgin and Child. An angel is flying towards the Virgin, bearing an object the nature of which we were unable to ascertain. A passage leads from the church to an adjoining chamber, in which the articles of value are preserved. Dubois informs us that above this church, and as it were a second storey, a second temple has been hewn of equal size. A subterranean passage connects it with the sacristy; and this same passage tunnels the cliff and debouches at the caves where the wine of the city was made and stored, and which are situated in an adjoining gorge. Dubois, who discovered this passage, found it blocked with débris and in disuse; its existence was not mentioned to ourselves.
Beyond the church we were taken to the apartments of Queen Thamar, which are situated further to the east. On our way we were shown a cave which must have served as a bath-chamber; an oblong well has been sunk into the floor. In the recess behind, a broad drain is visible, said to be the receptacle of the water-vessels. We also noticed a grotto which displayed a number of hewn pigeon-holes, and which had probably served the requirements of a chemist’s shop.
The queen’s grotto is a spacious vaulted chamber, 32 feet 4 inches in length, 20 feet 1 inch in breadth, and some 14 feet in height. A doorway gives access to this interior, and there is a small aperture or window on either side. On the opposite wall, and towards its right corner, you see a communicating apartment of much smaller dimensions; and to the left of this recess has been hewn an arched niche with a depth of over 4 feet. Several smaller niches adorn the chamber, of which a feature is a low divan, cut at the foot of each wall, a continuous ledge only 13 inches broad. On the right of the entrance, in the wall which runs at right angles, is situated another small apartment, lit by an aperture on its outer side. It may be that these smaller chambers served as sleeping-places; the ingenious Dubois boldly assumes that the first was a wardrobe and the second a kind of boudoir. In the floor are several hollow spaces, as usual in these caves. Above the grotto is situated the so-called summer apartment—an open cave issuing upon a terrace from which a fine view is obtained.
But what impressed us more than the caves and their associations was the solitude of the place, the sense of extreme remoteness—some pulseless corner, as it seemed, of the living world. A torrent winding between grave cliffs, covered with a scanty growth of parched herbage; no runnel diffusing life, and by our side the precious water collected in a cistern with a floor of cement. Where are the vineyards which must once have clothed the lower slopes, protected by the walls of the volcanic valley against the rigorous climate of a region over 4000 feet above the sea? Nature had blighted the scene with layers of lava and cinders; man reclaimed the spot with laborious patience, until the work perished under the curse of his fellow-man. But what enemy would penetrate to this hidden valley, concealed behind the most inaccessible zone of the border mountains, defended by the Devil’s gorge? Perhaps the appearance of the opposite cliff affords a clue to this mystery. It is higher than the summit which towers immediately above you; the outline is horizontal and the edge flat. It is in fact an exposed rim of the great tableland, broken here by the cañon of the Kur. A series of plains extend hence to the furthest skirts of Persia, vague divisions of a single elevated stage.[13]
The afternoon was far advanced as we retraced our steps to our encampment, and night already rested in the gorge. We were disappointed of a photograph of its solemn horrors, and made our way in silence beneath the twilight, following the murmuring stream. On the following day we proceeded to Akhalkalaki up the valley of the Toporovan. The posting station of Abazbek, 14 versts from Aspinja, is situated some distance up the valley, and the stage between it and Akhalkalaki is one of 18 versts or 12 miles. It was between these points that we travelled for the first time in a brichka, or springless posting cart. The drive occupied about three hours, and the road, which was well constructed, mounted continuously, following and fronting the swirling current of the Toporovan. The gardens of Khertvis extend for some distance beyond the castle, and a portion of the township lies upon this side. Then the margin of the river contracts to the verge of disappearance, and stony cliffs, with an elevation of about 200 feet, border the water on either bank. It is in fact a deep crack in the surface of the plateau, upon which the town of Akhalkalaki stands. Not a village did we pass, or any oasis among the rocks; it was indeed a bleak scene. But the sky, flaked in places with wandering white clouds, was intensely clear and blue, and the foaming river refreshed the scene. After passing the low edifice of the castle of Akhalkalaki, which lines the edge of the cliff on the left bank, we crossed to that bank by a wooden bridge and wound slowly up the hillside. It was evident that we had arrived almost at the head of the formation, the point where the watercourse descends from the surface of the plateau and eats deeply into the volcanic soil. It was almost night when we reached the level summit of the cliff and breathed the crisper air. A place was found for our tents in an open space of the little town, which is situated at an elevation of 5545 feet above the sea.
[1] Brosset speaks of the church and tower of Akhashen as being remarkable both as an example of composite architecture and for possessing a fine sculptured cross on the door and a figure of St. Theodore on horseback (Voyage archéologique en Transcaucasie, St. Petersburg, 1849, 1re livraison, 2me rapport, p. 150). [↑]
[2] Neither Dubois (Voyage autour du Caucase, Paris 1839–43, vol. ii. p. 330) nor Brosset (Voy. arch. 2me rapport, p. 176) has more than passing notices of Aspinja. But Dubois tells us that in his time all the inhabitants spoke Georgian except the mollah, who had recently arrived from Asia Minor. He adds that they were formerly Georgian Christians, and their ancient church still existed in a ruinous condition. [↑]