The most satisfactory section of Tiflis is called by everybody “the Colony.” It is a settlement of between four and five thousand Germans from Wurtemberg, who came to southern Russia early in the nineteenth century by invitation of Catherine the Great. She gave them lands, guaranteed them the free exercise of their religious beliefs, and exemption from military service forever. The latter pledge was violated during the war between Russia and Turkey in 1877, and since that time the Germans have been compelled to serve their five years in the army with all other Russian subjects, although they take no part in politics and have no social relations with the Russians, but are very exclusive and tenacious in their adherence to the customs and habits of the fatherland.
There are fifty thousand Wurtembergers in the Caucasus and they are pretty well scattered, but always in colonies, this one at Tiflis being the largest. They left their native country because the government attempted to compel them to sing from a new hymn book which they did not consider orthodox, and rather than submit they abandoned the homes of their fathers and sought new ones in a far country where they could worship God in their own way.
Catherine II was a great colonizer, and they have been valuable colonists. They are the best mechanics and the best farmers in the country. They have minded their own business, maintained their own schools, built Lutheran churches, accumulated property, sung the dear old hymns, increased in numbers, and flourished in a phlegmatic sort of way.
The members of “the Colony,” as it is always called, have never attempted to proselyte the Russians or other neighbours, but are fanatical in their Protestantism, which prevents them from marrying or even mixing with believers in other faiths. They have a wholesome Protestant contempt for Mohammedans and also for the Armenians. They regard the former as worse than heathens and the latter as treacherous, deceitful, and insincere in their professions of the Christian creed. They speak nothing but German among themselves, although they are compelled to use Russian in their business transactions. “The Colony” was originally a distinct town, but when the railway was built into Tiflis the station was located on the farther edge of the settlement, and since that time the gap has been filled and the Germans have become surrounded with Russians, Persians, Armenians, Tartars, and representatives of the numerous other races which form the population here. But they have maintained their exclusiveness just the same. They have their own beer gardens and places of entertainment, as well as their own church and schools, and they confine their trade to their own race so far as possible.
The Lutheran church is a large, fine building, and attached to it, under the direction of Pastor Mayer, is a school for the education of teachers, missionaries, ministers, and other religious workers for the many German colonists throughout the Caucasus. Four miles in the country is a German farming settlement, resembling an agricultural village in the fatherland, as closely as it is possible here, with big stables, cattle-yards, and pigstyes, and evidences of German thrift on every side. Their orchard fruits, their strawberries and garden truck, are always the first and the best in the market and bring the highest prices, and they furnish a valuable object lesson for the Russian and Georgian farmers which, however, is not imitated so closely as it might be.
Palace of the Viceroy, Tiflis
The viceroy’s palace is a miniature copy of the winter palace at St. Petersburg, of the same architectural design and painted the same terra-cotta colour, although it is not more than one tenth the size. It stands upon the principal street, with a large garden in the rear, and across the street are the barracks of the guards, which seem to be needed. Wooden barriers have been placed upon the sidewalk to prevent unauthorized persons from approaching near enough to the building to do any harm, as some of the people down there have a nasty way of throwing bombs about, and the posts and railing are painted in stripes like barbers’ poles. The viceroy’s guards wear the Georgian uniform, with red coats. They are striking-looking fellows, who are often mistaken for Cossacks, and the sentinels add a touch of colour to the picture. There is usually a drosky, drawn by a beautiful black stallion, awaiting orders at the entrance, and the isvostchik, as the driver is called, is well worth looking at.
Prince Woronzoff Dashoff, the viceroy, has been there many years and is popular with the people, who regard him as a just and humane man, but they complain that his authority has been limited to such a degree that he is practically a figurehead representing the emperor, while the military commander rules the country. I wouldn’t wonder if there was a good deal of truth in the complaint, but the Georgians are in a state of chronic rebellion and martial law prevails throughout the province. There has been no peace but that of the sword and the torch since the 1905–6 revolution and the granting of a constitution several years ago, and there will be no peace until the government gives the Georgians a show by recognizing their racial individuality and permitting them to use their ancestral language and enjoy a liberal measure of home rule.
The more we saw of both the men and women of Georgia the better we appreciate the reputation they have among the beauties of the world. You could not find a finer looking lot of men in any city in the world than you meet on the streets of Tiflis, and the women have all the charms they have been credited with, although it is said that they become fat early in life from indolence and sweetmeats. Perhaps dress has a good deal to do with setting off the shape and the features of the men. I have heard that fine feathers make fine birds. No national costume is more stately or adds more to the stature and the pose of a wearer. Perhaps the high-stepping heroes of romance and tragedy whom we were constantly meeting on the sidewalk would not look so well in an ordinary suit of store clothes, but one can at least give them the credit of wearing their ancestral garments with stunning effect.