An Armenian prisoner who had risen to the dignity of chief eunuch in the Shah's household, and two women, an Armenian and a German, from the harem of a powerful personage, fled to the Russian ambassador and asked him to assist them to return to Russian territory. Griboyedov insisted that, according to the treaty of peace, all prisoners had a right to freedom, and he refused to give up the refugees. On the 30th of January, 1829, a mad, yelling crowd of 100,000 men made an attack on the embassy. Griboyedov, sword in hand, led out his handful of horsemen and was immediately killed; only one member of the embassy escaped death. It was Griboyedov's wish that he should be buried in Georgia, and they chose this romantic spot which the poet had loved so much during his stay in Tiflis. The beautiful Nina remained faithful to her husband's memory, and mourned for him eight-and-twenty years, until she was carried up the winding path to share his grave. The view from the churchyard is a splendid one; the whole city, with its wonderful diversity of form and colour, lies at your feet; on the right you can see far along the Kakhetian road, and on the left the great highway to Vladikavkaz follows the winding course of the Kura. In the evening we often climbed to the top of a bare crag not far from the church, carrying with us a large earthenware flagon of wine, a roast leg of mutton, fruit, cucumbers, and other delicacies, and spreading out our cloaks on the ground lay there making merry, singing and telling tales until long after midnight; the lights of the town below us seemed like a reflection of the bright stars above us, and the music and laughter of many a jovial group came up the hillside to mingle with our own. After descending the hill, we cross the Boulevard at the publishing office of Kavkaz, the official organ, and skirting the Alexandrovskii Garden, soon reach the finest bridge in the town, Vorontsovskii Most, from which we get an interesting view of the waterside part of the Asiatic quarter; most of the houses have balconies overhanging the river, and one is involuntarily reminded of the Tiber banks at Rome. On the other side of the bridge, in a small square, is a statue of Prince Vorontsov, Governor of the Caucasus, from 1844 to 1854. During my stay the good people of that district were astonished one morning to see the Prince's head surmounted by a tall, well-worn sheepskin hat, such as the Lesghians wear; the effect was exceedingly ridiculous, and the youthful revellers who, at considerable risk of breaking their necks, were the authors of the joke, were well rewarded for their pains by the laughter of all who passed that way, for your Georgian is a merry fellow.