The sardar's harem has less decoration than the state apartments. Formerly its walls were covered with frescos, mosaic work, and porcelain ornaments of many colours; but since the Russians took possession all these have disappeared, leaving the walls bare and white. During the czar's short stay at Erivan, he inhabited one of these rooms, and wrote, with his own hand, in firm, well-formed characters, his name upon the wall. The signature is now framed and glazed. In many houses where the emperor passed a night, when upon his travels, he left a similar memento of his presence, sometimes adding a few friendly words for his host.
From Erivan Dr Wagner started for the far-famed Armenian convent of Eshmiadzini; his journey enlivened, or at least saved from complete monotony, by the eccentricities of his Cossack attendant. Ivan, warmed by a glass of wodha, and no way affected by the jolting, which to his master was martyrdom, basked in the morning sun, and chanted a ditty of the Don, from time to time turning round his mustached physiognomy, and looking at the doctor as for applause. An active, cunning fellow, with a marvellous facility for making himself understood, even by people of whose language he knew not a syllable, Dr Wagner was, upon the whole, well contented with him, although utterly unable to break him of stealing. He never left his night's quarters without booty of some kind, although his master always warned the host to keep a sharp eye upon his fingers. But when anything was to be pilfered, the Don-Cossack's sleight of hand threw into the shade that of the renowned Houdin himself. Even from the wretched Jesides, who have scarcely anything to call their own, he carried off a pot of buttermilk rather than depart empty-handed.
"Carefully as I locked away from him my little stock of travelling money, he nevertheless found some inexplicable means of getting at it. At last I adopted the plan of counting it every evening before his eyes, and making him answerable for all deficiencies. Still, from time to time, something was missing, and Ivan employed his utmost eloquence to convince me of the culpability of the Armenian drivers whom I occasionally had in my service. I never could catch him in the fact; but one evening I examined his clothes, and found a packet of silver rubles in a secret pocket. Whereupon the Cossack, with a devout grimace, which sat comically enough upon his sly features, held up his ten fingers in the air, and swore, by all the saints of the Russian calendar, that he had economised the sum out of his wages, and had hidden it for fear of an attack by robbers."
The doctor pardoned his servant's peculations more easily than his blunders—one of which, that occurred upon the road to Erivan, was certainly provoking enough to so eager a naturalist. On the lonely banks of a canal, apparently the work of nature rather than of man, (although local traditions maintain the contrary,) one of the outlets of the alpine lake of Chenk-sha, or Blue Water, Dr Wagner encountered some Armenian anglers, who had secured a rich store of extremely curious fish. He purchased a dozen specimens, and on arriving at the next posting station, he bade his Cossack put them in a leathern bottle of spirits of wine, whilst he himself, armed with the geological hammer, availed himself of the short halt to explore some adjacent rocks. On his return, he found Ivan hard at work executing his orders, in obedience to which this Fair-service from the Don had duly immersed the icthyological curiosities in alcohol, but had previously cut them in pieces, "in order that on arriving at Erivan, they might taste more strongly of the pickle."
Eshmiadzini is about fifteen miles from Erivan, across the plain of the Araxes, a monotonous stony flat, offering little worthy of note. Dr Wagner had expected, in the church and residence of the chief of the Armenian Christians, a stately and imposing edifice, something after the fashion of Strassburg cathedral; and he wondered greatly not to behold its turrets or spire rising in the distance long before he came within sound of its bells. In this, as in various other instances during his travels, by indulging his imagination, he stored up for himself a disappointment. A clumsy stunted dome, a mud-walled convent, ugly environs, a miserable village, black pigs wallowing in a pool of mud—such was the scene that met his disgusted vision. The people were worthy of the place, but from them he had not expected much. He had seen enough of the Armenian priesthood at Tefflis, in Constantinople, and elsewhere, to appreciate them at their just value. Some dirty, stupid-looking monks lounged about the convent entrance, gossiping and vermin-hunting. The travellers were conducted into a large room, where the archbishops held their conclaves. Five of these dignitaries were seated at a long table, dressed in blue robes with loose sleeves, and with cowls over their heads. The one in a red velvet arm-chair, at the head of the table, represented the absent patriarch. He was a handsome man, with an imposing beard, of which he was very vain. Laying his hand upon his heart, with an assumption of great dignity, he addressed a few words of flattering welcome to Dr Wagner, of whose coming he had been forewarned by the Russian general Neidhardt. "We have long expected you," he said. "The whole of our clergy rejoice to welcome within their walls a man of your merit and reputation." The compliment, although laconic, was not ill turned, but it was thoroughly insincere. An eruption of Ararat, or a troop of Kurdish robbers at their gates, were scarcely a more unwelcome sight to the reverend inmates of Eshmiadzini than is the arrival of a literary traveller. They well know that little good can be written about them, and that even Parrot, habitually so lenient in his judgments, gave but an unflattering sketch of the Armenian priesthood. European learning is an evil odour in their nostrils, and naturalists, especially, they look upon as freethinkers and unbelievers, condemned beyond redemption to an eternal penalty. Moreover, the holy fraternity are accustomed to measure the importance of their visitors by the Russian standard of military rank and decorations, and Dr Wagner's plain coat excited not their respect. With wondering eyes they examined the unassuming stranger, and asked each other in whispers how the governor-general could possibly have taken the trouble to announce the advent of an individual without epaulets or embroidered uniform, without tschin or orders. "When I at last left the room, to visit the church and other buildings, Archbishop Barsech (the patriarch's substitute) accompanied me, and seemed disposed to act as my cicerone, but suddenly bethinking himself, he deemed it perhaps beneath his dignity, for he hastily retired. I was escorted by an archimandrite, and Abowian by a young Russian official. Barsech's absence was doubly agreeable to me, as permitting me to examine at leisure all parts of the convent, and to ask many questions which the patriarch's reverend vicar might have deemed scarcely becoming."
The attention of the various English travellers who have written about Armenia has been chiefly directed to its southern portion, to the regions adjacent to the great alpine lakes of Urmia and Van. The northern parts of Upper Armenia, north of Mount Ararat, and adjacent to Caucasus, have received the notice of several French and German writers. But most of these took travellers' license to embellish the places they wrote about; or else the change for the worse since their visits, now of rather ancient date, has been most grievous. In the second half of the seventeenth century, three Frenchmen, Tavernier, Chardin, and Tournefort, gave glowing accounts of the prosperity and opulence of Eshmiadzini. At the time of Tavernier's visit, (1655,) large caravans of traders and merchandise were frequently upon the road, bringing wealth to the country and numerous pilgrims to the church, many of these being opulent Armenian merchants, whose generous offerings enriched the shrine. Tavernier was astonished at the treasures of Eshmiadzini, which apparently had then not suffered from the spoliating attacks of Turks and Persians. The church was fitted up with the utmost luxury, and the conventual life was not without its pleasures and diversions, relieving the wearisome monotony that now characterises it. In honour of Monsieur Tavernier and of his travelling companions, the Christian merchants of the caravan, the patriarch gave a grand bull-fight, in which eight bulls were exhibited and two killed. Tournefort wrote in raptures of the fertility and excellent cultivation of the environs of the convent, dividing his praise between the rich adornments of the church and the blooming parterres of the garden, and winding up by declaring Eshmiadzini a picture of paradise. Dr Wagner, who, before visiting a country, makes a point of reading all that has been written of it, had perused these glowing descriptions, and was duly disappointed in consequence.
"Good heavens!" he exclaims, in intense disgust, "how little do those enthusiastic descriptions agree with what is now to be seen! To-day the convent garden is small, run to waste, miserably stocked. Instead of pinks and amaranths, which rejoiced the senses of the lucky Tournefort, I could discern in this Armenian 'paradise' naught besides turnips and cabbages, with here and there a stunted, unhealthy-looking mulberry or apricot tree, and the melancholy wild olive, with its flavourless fruits. No shade from the sun, nothing pleasant to the eye. And neither the interior of the convent nor that of the church exhibit any traces of the splendour vaunted by the old travellers. In the patriarch's reception-chamber, the windows are prettily painted in the Persian style; and here my guide expected, but in vain, to see me struck with wonder and admiration. In the same room is a bust of the Emperor Nicholas, dating, doubtless, from the early years of his reign, for it has no mustaches, and the breast wants breadth. In the next apartment, where the patriarch daily receives the higher clergy of the establishment, is a Madonna, after Raphael, so exquisitely embroidered in silk, that at a short distance it appears a painting. This piece of needlework was sent to the patriarch from Hindostan, by a pious Armenian woman. Then there is an ivory bass-relief of Abraham's sacrifice; and on the walls are depicted horrible scenes of martyrdom, especially the sufferings of St Gregory, buried alive in a deep well. A most artistically carved arm-chair, occupied by the patriarch upon state occasions, was also sent, only a few years ago, from Hindostan, whence, and from other foreign communities of Armenian Christians, far more gifts are received than from Tefflis and other neighbouring places inhabited by many rich Armenians. Behind this arm-chair is a full-length portrait of the Czar of all the Russias, of whom the prelates never speak but in a tone of anxious humility."
The church of Eshmiadzini is rich in monkish legends and precious relics. It contains an altar, through which is a passage into subterranean excavations, and which stands on the exact spot where the Saviour is said to have appeared to St Gregory, armed with a club, and to have hurled the heathen gods and evil spirits into the chasm. To this day, when, as often happens, the wind whistles through the vaults, the bigoted and ignorant monks believe they hear the howling of the tortured demons. Eshmiadzini's relics are renowned far and wide amongst the scattered Armenian congregations of the East.
"The chamber of relics, situated on the south-east side of the church, contains, besides the right hand of St Gregory, (with the possession of this relic, the dignity of the Catholicos is indissolubly connected,) and a portion of the skull of St Hripsime, a bit of Noah's ark, and the lance with which Christ's side was pierced. I expressed a wish to see these relics, to which the archimandrite replied that their exhibition could take place only with great ceremonies, with prayers and choral singing, for which a small pecuniary sacrifice was necessary. 'Two ducats,' he whispered in my ear. Curious though I was to have a close view of the lance and the piece of the ark, and to ascertain what effect the lapse of so many centuries had had upon them, I thought the price too high, and as the worthy archimandrite looked inquiringly in my face, I told him dryly, that for the sight of a piece of wood, however old and holy, a poor German naturalist had no ducats to spare."
The first stone of the church of Eshmiadzini was laid by St Gregory in the year 302, since which date it has frequently been partially restored, and more than once entirely rebuilt, and now exhibits a very motley architecture. The convent library would doubtless afford an Armenian scholar much curious information concerning its history. This library long lay in dusty heaps in a dark hole, probably to protect it from the Vandalic outrage of Persian, Kurd, and Turkish plunderers. When Erivan was annexed to Russia, and law restored to the land, a room was cleared for it, and a good many volumes were ranged upon shelves; but a large number, Dr Wagner informs us, still are heaped in frightful disorder upon the floor. At the time of his visit, the confusion in this celebrated library was as great as if French marauders had had the run of it.