Many days had not elapsed before they were convinced that their fears were not without foundation. It was now Sunday, and Chardin, in offering up his prayers to God, according to custom, would not presume, he says, to petition his Maker for freedom, so persuaded was he that slavery was to be his fate; he merely prayed for a mild master, and to be delivered from a Mingrelian wife. While the classical idea of Medea was haunting his imagination, and disturbing his devotion, a person came running in, exclaiming that two neighbouring chiefs, with a band of followers, armed to the teeth, were knocking at the outer gate, and demanding admittance. There being no alternative, they were allowed to enter, which they had no sooner done than they seized and bound the travellers, commanded the monks to retire, and threatened to put to death the first person who should make the least stir or resistance. The principal friar was terrified and fled; but the rest stood firmly by their guests, particularly the lay-brother, whom not even a naked sword pointed at his throat could induce to abandon them. When the bandits proceeded to bind their servants, one of the latter, who had a large knife in his hand, endeavouring to defend himself, was instantaneously struck to the earth with a lance, bound hand and foot, and fastened to a tree. This being done, the ruffians informed the travellers that they wished to examine their effects. Chardin replied that it was within their power; that they were but poor monks, whose whole wealth consisted in books, papers, and a few wretched garments, the whole of which, if they would abstain from violence, should be shown them. Upon this he was unbound, and commanded to open the door of their apartment, where their books, papers, and wardrobe were kept. Chardin’s companion had sewn the most valuable of his jewels in the collar of his coat; but our traveller himself had made two small packets of his, which were sealed, and put among his books, not daring to carry them about him lest he should be assassinated, stripped, or sold for a slave. In order to gain a moment to withdraw these packets, he requested his companion and the lay-brother to hold the chiefs in conversation, by pretending to negotiate with them, and offering them a small sum of money. The stratagem succeeding for an instant, he darted upstairs, their apartment being on the first floor, entered the chamber, and locked the door. His design was suspected, and the whole band of ruffians rushed up after him; but the door being somewhat difficult to be broken open, he had time to take out his packets and conceal them in the roof of the house. His companion, however, who was in the room below, called out to him that he ought to be on his guard, for that he was observed through the cracks in the floor. Upon hearing this, and seeing that the door was giving way, he became confused, and scarcely knowing what he did, took down the jewels out of the roof, thrust them into his pocket, and opening the window of the apartment, jumped out into the garden. Without noticing whether he was watched or not, he threw the packets into a thicket, and then hastened back to the room, now filled with robbers, some of whom were maltreating his companion, while others were battering his coffers with their spears or lances, in order to break them open.
He now plucked up his courage, imagining that the greater part of his wealth was out of their reach, and bid them take heed of what they did; that he was the envoy of the King of Persia; and that the Prince of Georgia would take ample vengeance for whatever violence might be offered to his person. He then showed them his passport from the king. One of the chiefs snatched it out of his hand, and was about to tear it in pieces, saying that he neither feared nor regarded any man upon earth; but the other, awed by the royal seal and letters of gold, restrained him. They now said, that if he would open his coffers and allow them to examine his effects, no violence should be offered him; but that if he refused any longer, they would strike off his head from his shoulders. He was still proceeding to contest the point, when one of the soldiers, impatient to proceed to business, drew his sword, and aimed a blow at his head, which would have cleft it in twain, had not the villain’s arm been instantaneously arrested by the lay-brother. Perceiving the kind of arguments they were disposed to employ, he unlocked his chests, which in the twinkling of an eye were rummaged to the bottom, while every thing which appeared to possess any value was taken away. Turning his eyes from this painful scene towards the garden, he perceived two soldiers searching among the bushes in the very spot where he had thrown his jewels; and rushing towards them, followed by one of the monks, they retired. He then, without reflecting upon the extreme imprudence of his conduct, began himself to search about for the packets, but not being able to discover them, he supposed the soldiers had found and carried them off. As their value was little less than ten thousand pounds, the loss fell upon him like a thunderbolt. Nevertheless, there was no time for sorrowing. His companion and the lay-brother were loudly calling him from the house. He therefore tore himself away from the spot. In returning towards the house, two soldiers fell upon him, dragged him up into a corner, and after clearing his pockets of all they contained, were about to bind him and hurry him off; but after much resistance and expostulation, they released him, and shortly afterward the whole troop retired from the monastery.
The robber chiefs and their followers had no sooner departed, than Chardin again repaired to the garden, and was sorrowfully prying about the thickets where he had concealed his jewels, when a man cast his arms about his neck, and threw him into more violent terror than ever. He had no doubt it was a Mingrelian, who was about to cut his throat. The next moment, however, he recognised the voice of his faithful Armenian valet, who, in accents broken by sobs, and with eyes overflowing with tears, exclaimed, “Ah, sir, we are ruined!” Chardin, strongly moved by this proof of his affection, bade him restrain his tears. “But, sir,” said he, “have you searched the place carefully?”—“So carefully,” replied the traveller, “that I am convinced all further search would be so much labour lost.” This did not satisfy the Armenian. He wished to be informed exactly respecting the spot where the traveller had thrown the jewels; the manner in which he had cast them into the thicket; and the way in which he had sought for them. To oblige him, Chardin did what he desired, but was so thoroughly persuaded that all further search was useless, that he refused to remain upon the spot, and went away, overwhelmed with grief and vexation. How long he remained in this state of stupefaction he could not tell; he was roused from it, however, by the presence of the Armenian, who, approaching him in the dark, for it was now night, once more threw himself about his neck, and thrust the two packets of jewels into his bosom.
By the advice of the monks, Chardin next morning proceeded to the prince’s castle, to relate his griefs, and demand justice; but all he gained by this expedition was, the thorough conviction that his highness was as arrant a thief as his subjects, and had shared the fruits of the robbery, which was apparently undertaken by his orders. This discovery, however, was important; it opened his eyes to the true character of the country; and taught him that in Mingrelia, at least, the man who put his trust in princes was a fool. In the course of two days, to give the finishing stroke to their misfortune, they learned that the Turks, irritated at the insolence and rapacity of its chief, had made an irruption into the country, were laying it waste with fire and sword on all sides, and had already approached to within a short distance of Sipias. At midnight, two cannon-shots from the neighbouring fortress of Ruchs announced the approach of the enemy, and the peasants, with their wives, children, and flocks, immediately took to flight, and before dawn the whole population was in motion. Our traveller, whose companion, excited and irritated by the preceding untoward events, was now ill, fled among the rest, leaving behind him his books, papers, and mathematical instruments, which he hoped the ignorance of both Turks and Mingrelians would protect. His buried wealth he also left where it was, and, considering the complexion of events, regarded as much safer than what he carried with him.
The sight of this whole people, suddenly thrown into rapid flight, was sufficiently melancholy. The women bore along their children in their arms, the men carried the baggage. Some drove along their cattle before them, while others yoked themselves like oxen to the carts in which their furniture was loaded, and being unable long to continue their extraordinary exertions, sunk down exhausted and dying on the road. Here and there, along the wayside, groups of old people, or very young children, implored the aid of those whose strength had not yet failed, with the most heart-rending cries and groans. At another moment the spectacle would have caused the most painful emotions, but it was now beheld with the utmost indifference. The idea of danger having swallowed up every other, they hurried by these miserable deserted creatures without pity or commiseration.
The castle in which they now took refuge belonged to a chief who had been a double renegade, having deserted Christianity for Mohammedanism, and Mohammedanism for Christianity; notwithstanding which, he was supposed to be a less atrocious brigand than his neighbours. He received the fugitives politely, and assigned them for their lodgings an apartment where they were somewhat less exposed to the weather than in the woods, though the rain found its way in on all sides. The castle, however, was already crowded with people, eight hundred persons, of whom the majority were women and children, having taken refuge in it, and others still more destitute and miserable arriving every moment.
Next day one of the missionaries returned to the monastery, for the purpose of bringing away, if possible, such plate and provisions as had been left behind: but he found that place in possession of the Turks, who beat him severely, and carried away whatever was portable in the house. The night following, a Mingrelian chief, more barbarous and destructive than the Turks, sacked the monastery a third time, and having no torches or flambeaux to light him in his depredations, made a bonfire of our traveller’s books and papers, and reduced the whole to ashes. The chief in whose castle they had taken refuge, being summoned to surrender by the Turkish pasha, and perceiving the absurdity of pretending to measure his strength with that of the enemy, consented to take the oath of allegiance to the Porte, and, what was equally important, to make a handsome present to its agent. This present was to consist of three hundred crowns in money, and twenty young slaves, which the wretch determined to levy from the unfortunate creatures who had thrown themselves upon his protection, confiding in the sacred laws of hospitality. Among Mingrelians, however, there is nothing sacred. Every family possessing four children was compelled to give up one of the number to be transported into Turkey as a slave; but it was found necessary to tear away the children from the arms of their mothers, who grasped them convulsively, pressed them to their bosoms, and yielded only to irresistible violence. Instead of twenty children, the chief forced away twenty-five, selling the additional number for his own profit; and instead of three hundred crowns, he extorted five hundred. Providence, however, compelled him and his family to devour their share of grief. The pasha peremptorily demanded one of his sons as a hostage, and as he and his wives beheld the youngest of their boys depart into endless captivity for the hostage, delivered up to the Porte never to return, they had an opportunity of tasting a sample of the bitterness they had administered to others. Chardin, who had neither wife nor children to lose, was taxed at twenty crowns.
Perceiving that the state of the country verged more and more every day upon utter anarchy and confusion, our traveller came to the resolution of departing at all hazards for Georgia, to demand its prince’s aid in withdrawing his property from Mingrelia. His companion remained to watch over it in his absence. Not being able to procure either guards or guides from among the natives, for with all their misery there is no people who fear death or danger more than the Mingrelians, he was constrained to set out with a single domestic, who, as fate would have it, was the most consummate scoundrel in his service. On the way to Anarghia, where he was once more to embark on the Black Sea, he learned that the church in which he had deposited his wealth had been sacked and stripped to the bare walls, that the very graves had been opened, and every vestige of property removed. Here was a new source of anguish. It was now a question whether he was a rich or a poor man. He paused in his journey—sent off an express to his companion—the ruins of the church were visited—and their money found to be untouched. This circumstance, he informs us, marvellously exalted his courage, and he proceeded with fresh vigour on his new enterprise.
Embarking in a felucca at Anarghia, in company with several Turks and their slaves, he sailed along the south-eastern coast of the Black Sea, passed by the mouth of the Phasis, the site of Sebaste, and many other spots redolent of classical fame, and in three days arrived at Gonia in the country of the Lazii. Here the character of his valet began to develop itself. Repairing as soon as they had landed to the custom-house, leaving his master to manage for himself, the vagabond imparted to the authorities his conjectures respecting the real condition of the traveller, and thus at once awakened their vigilance and cupidity. His effects were in consequence rigorously examined, and the dues exacted from him, which were heavy, perhaps extortionate, no doubt enabled the custom-house officers to reward the treachery of his servant. When these matters had been settled, the principal officer, who, after all, was a man of humane disposition and tolerably just principles, made Chardin an offer of an apartment in his house, where he invited, nay, even entreated him to pass the night; but having already suffered from what he regarded as his rapacity, the traveller dreaded some new act of extortion, and obstinately refused his hospitality. He very soon repented this false step. It being nearly night, he proceeded, on quitting the custom-house, to the inn, or rather hovel, whither his valet had directed his effects to be conveyed after examination. Here he was sitting down, fatigued and dejected, disgusted with dirt and stench, and listening to the condolences of his Turkish travelling companions, when a janizary from the lieutenant of the commandant, the chief being absent, entered in search of his valet, with whom that important personage was desirous of holding a conference. In another hour the presence of the traveller himself was required; and when, in obedience to authority, he repaired to the fort, he found both the lieutenant and his own graceless servant drunk, and began to perceive that a plan for pillaging him had been concerted. The lieutenant now informed him, with as much gravity as the prodigious quantity of wine he had taken would permit, that all ecclesiastics who passed through Gonia were accustomed to pay two hundred ducats to his superior; and that he, therefore, as a member of that profession, for Chardin had thought proper to pass for a Capuchin, must deposite that sum in his hands for the commandant. It was in vain that the traveller now denied all claim to the clerical character, and acknowledged himself to be a merchant; merchant or priest, it was all the same to the lieutenant; what he wanted was the two hundred ducats, which, after much altercation, were reduced to one hundred; but this M. Chardin was compelled to pay, or submit to the punishment of the carcan, a species of portable stocks, through which the offender’s head is put instead of his feet. The worst feature, however, of the whole affair was, that the drunken officer took it into his head to cause the present thus extorted to appear to be a voluntary gift; and again having recourse to menaces, which he was prepared to execute upon the spot, he forced the traveller to make oath on the Gospel that he bestowed the money freely, and would disclose the real nature of the transaction to no one. This being done, he was allowed to retire.
Next morning the custom-house officer, who, in inviting him to pass the night in his house, had intended to protect him from this species of robbery, furnished him with a guide, and two men to carry his luggage; and with this escort, in addition to his hopeful valet, he departed for Akalziké. The road at first lay through a plain, but at length began to ascend, and pierce the defiles of the Caucasus; and as he climbed higher and higher among the precipitous and dizzy heights of this sublime mountain, among whose many peaks the ark is supposed to have first taken ground after the deluge, and from whence the stream of population flowed forth and overspread the world with a flood of life, he felt the cares, solicitudes, and sorrows which for many months had fed, as it were, upon his heart, take wing, and a healing and invigorating influence spread an exquisite calm over his sensations. This singular tranquillity, which he experienced on first reaching these lofty regions, still continued as he advanced, notwithstanding the rain, the hail, and the snow which were poured on him by the tempest as he passed; and in such a frame of mind he attained the opposite side of the mountain, upon whose folding slopes he beheld numerous villages, castles, and churches, picturesquely scattered about, and at length descended into a broad and beautiful valley, cultivated with the greatest care, and fertilized by the waters of the Kur.