That was the first time he had laid eyes on the young blonde woman, and the same day he was dazzled—thunderstruck—by love at first sight.
It had been the first promise of happiness.
“The next time I hold you this way,” he had murmured.
He had taken his fiancée’s face in his hands.
“The next time…”
The next time these tiny drops of light dancing at Lisa’s ears trembled between his fingers again, it would be for the rest of their lives.
He never saw her again.
“My brother Alyosha received Jamal Eddin’s last letter, dated June 25, 1858.
“I’m dying slowly, and with great suffering, he wrote. I beg you, try to come and see me, and try to bring another Russian doctor with you. I refuse to let the local doctors treat me any longer. I beg you, bring especially a little note written by Lisa, so that I may see her handwriting one last time. Hurry, or you may get here too late. Kiss Lisa for me. So she knows that I have not forgotten her. So she knows I love her.
“My brother started off right away.
“But when he arrived in the mountains, less than three versts from Soul-Kadi, one of Jamal Eddin’s friends ran to meet him, blocked his path, and gave him the following message from my fiancé: Hurry back to your regiment, Alyosha. I found out that they have let you come to me in order to capture you. Run away, leave, I cannot see you, I do not want to. In any case, I am lost.
“As usual, Jamal Eddin told the truth.
“He died a few days later, on July 12, 1858.
“He was twenty-seven years old.
“They say he is buried on one of the village terraces, looking out over the immensity of the Caucasus.
“As for me, more than sixty years later, I continue to carry within me the living memory of his love. Jamal Eddin’s tenderness, like all of his passions, was limitless.
“He had written to me, ‘Lisa, I shall die without you in the Caucasus.’
“Our story ended with these words.
“I dare to declare, on the eve of my own death, that I would have been happy to marry a man of such character.
“To my sorrow, almighty destiny decided otherwise.”
APPENDIX
What Became of Them
Lisa was married twice, the first time to Hippolite Alexandrovitch Dmitriev-Marmonov, the second time to the son of Baron Alexander Engelhardt. Both unions were advantageous, as both of her husbands were aristocrats and members of the inner circle at court. In 1919, with her family’s encouragement, she wrote her memoirs. She told of the famous figures of the literary world she had met at her grandfather Olenin’s home, the thrill of her first ball, and her passion for Jamal Eddin, whom she described as the love of her life. Over sixty years after the young man’s death, he remained vivid in her mind, both as the man she had always dreamed of and a symbol of ideal happiness. He was the incarnation of human dignity, honor, and beauty. “He was tall, dark, and very well built,” she often repeated, “and of royal bearing.” She lived through the turmoil of the revolution and died in 1922 at the age of ninety.
After eight months in captivity, the princesses were in a physically and psychologically fragile state, obliging them to return home across the Caucasus at a slow pace. Anna felt guilty about the death of the infant who had slipped from her arms during the wild cavalcade as they were being abducted. Of all the hostages, she suffered the most, taking ill while captive and losing her sumptuous tresses. She recovered from the ordeal with great difficulty. The two sisters then left for Moscow and Saint Petersburg to thank the Romanovs for having made their liberation possible by consenting to the return of Jamal Eddin. They spent nearly a week at the cottage of Peterhof-Alexandria, where the dowager empress gave a “country ball” for them, an event that belonged to other, happier times. The ransom payment had so depleted the Chavchavadze fortune that Czar Alexander II assumed the cost of rebuilding and restoring Sinandali. The family was granted use of the domain, which then became the property of Russia upon the death of Prince David. The manor is still there, in its tropical garden above the river.
Princess Varenka remarried late in life and died in 1884. George was her only child. Princess Anna died twenty years later, surrounded by her many children and grandchildren. They portrayed the imam Shamil as a great head of state. Their accounts and that of the French governess abducted with them—the first descriptions of the man from eyewitnesses—considerably changed public perception of the man’s personality and moral character. They described him as a pious, loyal, and noble man of integrity, fighting for the independence of his people. The princesses’ admiration and respect brought the imam renown and immense popularity in Russia and throughout Europe.
In France, the Journal de Toulouse even published a strange obituary notice, slipped in before the agricultural news, on October 19, 1858. The journal regretted to announce to its readers the death of “Djemmal-Eddin, son of Shamil,” in Soul-Kadi, in the Caucasus, the result of an illness his doctor attributed to depression.
In August 1859, scarcely a year after Jamal Eddin’s death, the young man’s prophecy came true.
Betrayed by his naïbs, abandoned by his people, robbed by the villagers, attacked on all fronts by the Russians, Shamil was forced to lay down his arms. He was beaten. Yunus, Mohammed Ghazi, and four hundred warriors followed him into his ultimate battle, fighting for their honor and the greater glory of God. All of them knew that their war against the invader was over. Shamil hoped only to die as a man of arms, in the village of Gunib that he was defending for the last time. However, he finally accepted the humiliation of giving himself up alive in order to spare his family, his wives and children. General Dmitri Alexeyevitch Milyutin, then aide-de-camp to Prince Bariatinsky, was present for his surrender. Shamil, Yunus, and the fifty surviving murids were certain that the infidels would execute them and send their sons into bondage. They were mistaken.
Exiled to Russia with Mohammed Ghazi, Shamil was treated with all the honor due a great warrior. The journey to the north that both expected to be a long trip to the scaffold turned out to be a triumphal tour. Shamil was welcomed as a hero in every city that crossed his path. Huge crowds greeted him and covered him with garlands of flowers. Parties were given in his honor, and everyone wanted to meet him. He was received by Czar Alexander II, later to be known as “Alexander the Liberator,” who embraced him and called him his friend. Together they watched the Russian troops pass in review. At first wary, then surprised, and finally quite overwhelmed by such a welcome, Shamil observed the world around him. He remembered all that his son Jamal Eddin had told him, everything that he had refused to believe. The memory of his twice-sacrificed son was with him constantly. He walked in the footsteps of Jamal Eddin, meeting those who had loved him and visiting the places where he had lived. His third son, Mohammed Sheffi, his steward, his wives, and their households joined him at Kaluga, a small city south of Moscow. Shamil and his family lived there, under surveillance but widely honored and respected, for nearly ten years. In 1866, Shamil and his sons swore allegiance to the czar and took an oath of loyalty to Russia. The climate in Moscow proved fatal for several in his entourage, and those who remained were allowed to move farther south, to Kiev. Following his oath of loyalty, Shamil became a Russian citizen and was thus permitted to leave Russia to make a pilgrimage to Mecca.