The Project Gutenberg eBook, Sketches of Persia, by John Malcolm

SKETCHES OF PERSIA.

SKETCHES OF PERSIA.

By SIR JOHN MALCOLM,
AUTHOR OF 'HISTORY OF PERSIA,' 'HISTORY OF INDIA,' ETC., ETC.
NEW EDITION.
LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
1861.

LONDON: PRINTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET,
AND CHARING CROSS.

TO
JOHN FLEMING, Esq., M.D., F.R.S., &c.,
LATE PRESIDENT OF THE MEDICAL BOARD OF CALCUTTA,
BY
HIS MOST SINCERE AND ATTACHED FRIEND,
THE AUTHOR.

CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTION.

Once upon a time this island of Great Britain had some spots where men and women and little children dwelt, or were believed to dwell, in innocence, ignorance, and content. Travellers seldom visited them; poets saw them in their dreams, and novelists told stories of them: but these days are now past. Thanks to steam-boats and stagecoaches, there is not a spot to which an ignorant or sage human being can retire, where his eye will not be delighted or offended by a dark column of smoke, or his ear gratified or grated by the rattling wheels of a carriage. It is perhaps a consequence of this invasion of retirement that all are tempted from their homes, and that while one half of the population is on the highways, the other half is on the narrow seas. This love of travel, however, is in the vast majority limited to the neighbouring countries of Europe; but the ardour of curiosity, and an ambitious desire of escaping from the beaten track, has of late years induced not a few scientific and enterprising travellers to overrun the renowned lands of Greece and Egypt, whose inhabitants stare with astonishment at men flying with impatience from town to town, exploring ruins; measuring pyramids; groping in dark caverns; analyzing the various properties of earth, air, and water; carrying off mutilated gods and goddesses; packing up common stones and pebbles, as if they were rubies and diamonds; and even bearing away the carcases of the dead, strangely preferring the withered frame of a female mummy, which has been mouldering for four thousand years in its sepulchre, to the loveliest specimens of living and animated beauty.

The uniformed natives of these countries, whose condition is much to be deplored, are not aware that the great Samuel Johnson has said, that "Whatever raises the past, the distant, and the future, above the present, exalts us in the dignity of human beings;" which is an unanswerably good reason for the preference given to mummies over every living object, however fascinating.

The rage of the present day for mummies and other delectable reliques of antiquity has deluged Egypt with itinerant men of science and research, who have quite exhausted that land of wonders; and those who have lately visited it have been reduced, from actual want of other aliment, to the necessity of preying upon their predecessors, many of whom have been cruelly mangled, and some wholly devoured.

These wandering tribes of writers, who are, in a certain degree, subject to the same motives which force the hordes of Tartary to change their places of abode, have recently begun to migrate into Syria, Asia Minor, and some have actually penetrated as far as Persia. This has given me no small alarm, for I have long had designs upon that country myself: I had seen something of it, and had indulged a hope that I might, at my leisure, gratify the public by allowing them to participate in my stock of information; but being of an indolent disposition, I deferred the execution of this, my favourite plan, until that anticipated period of repose, the prospect of which, however distant, has always cheered a life of vicissitude and labour.

Nothing that had hitherto appeared respecting Persia at all frightened me. I am no historian, therefore I did not tremble at Sir John Malcolm's ponderous quartos; I am no tourist, Mr. Morier's Journeys gave me no uneasiness; the learned Researches of Sir William Ouseley were enough to terrify an antiquarian, but that was not my trade; and, as I happen to have clumsy, untaught fingers, and little if any taste for the picturesque, I viewed without alarm the splendid volumes of Sir Robert Ker Porter. Far different, however, was the case when that rogue Hajji Bâbâ made his appearance. I perused him with anxiety, but was consoled by finding that, though he approached the very borders of my province, he had made no serious inroads. I was roused, however, into action, and determined instantly to rummage those trunks into which my sketches had been thrown as they were finished, and where many of them had slumbered undisturbed for nearly thirty years.

I must warn the reader that the trunks here spoken of bear no resemblance whatever to those imaginary boxes which it has lately been the fashion to discover, filled with MSS. unaccountably deposited in them by some strange and mysterious wight; mine are all real, well-made, strong, iron-clamped boxes, which I had prepared with great care, in order that they might preserve the papers I from time to time intrusted to them. I am well aware that this plain and true statement of the fact will, with many, diminish the interest of these pages; but with others it will increase it; for they will be gratified to find in them sketches taken on the spot, while the facts and the feelings to which they relate were fresh and warm before me; and I can truly affirm, that the sense, the nonsense, the anecdotes, the fables, and the tales,—all, in short, which these volumes contain, with the exception of a few sage reflections of my own, do actually belong to the good people amongst whom they profess to have been collected.

Yet, partial as I was to my secret hoard, it was long before I could make up my mind to publish. While I was one day musing upon the subject, my attention was accidentally drawn to a volume of Persian poetry that was lying on the table. A fâl or lot, I exclaimed, shall put an end to my indecision! Saying which, according to the usage of my Persian friends in like cases, I shut my eyes, opened the book, and counting seven pages back, read the first four lines, as follows:

"Her kih sefer kerdeh pesendeedeh sheved
Z'âeena-e-noor kemâl-esh deedeh sheved
Pâkeezeter ez âb nebâshed cheezee
Her jâh kih kooned mekâm gendeedeh sheved."
"Whoever has travelled shall be approved;
His perfections shall be reflected as from a mirror of light.
There can be nothing more pure than water;
But wherever it stagnates it becomes offensive."

My delight was excessive, and I despatched my manuscripts forthwith to the bookseller; who has been desired to keep me minutely informed of the success of these volumes; and a hint has been given him, that if they meet with encouragement, the contents of the boxes before mentioned are far from being exhausted.

NOTE TO THE READER.

The usual orthography of some proper names has been altered, with a view of rendering them more conformable to the pronunciation and the grammar of the languages to which they belong. For instance, our old friend and favourite, the caliph Haroun-al-Raschid of the Arabian tales, appears under his Arabic name of Hâroon-oor-Rasheed. The critical reader will also discover that a few of the Eastern words have not always been spelled exactly alike. This unintentional typographical inaccuracy was caused by the peculiar circumstances under which these volumes were printed.

SKETCHES OF PERSIA.

CHAPTER I.

Voyage from Bombay to the Persian Gulf.

There is a monotony in a long sea-voyage, particularly to passengers, which those who have never traversed the wide ocean cannot well understand. A fair or contrary wind, a calm or a storm, a man overboard, a strange sail, or the hooking of a shark, are events which rouse for the moment; but the passenger soon sinks again into his listless, restless life, sitting half an hour below, walking another half hour on deck, holding on by the rigging when the ship rolls, looking over the gangway when the sea is smooth, watching the man casting the log, and waiting with anxiety to hear the latitude announced at twelve o'clock. His little incidents are, being in the way of the officer of the watch when upon deck, and when below disturbing the captain's calculations of the longitude, by laughing or talking with other idlers; for that is the class in which he is registered in the muster-roll of the crew. With me, however, there is a pursuit which helps to beguile a long voyage. I am always on the lookout for odd characters, and these abound at sea; from which circumstance, I suppose, we have our common phrase of calling an out-of-the-way person "an odd fish," alluding to the element where he is generally found. Such a one I met on board the frigate in which we sailed for Persia, and I shall give a sketch of him as taken at the moment.

This man, whose name was Peterson, was what he appeared to be, a blunt sailor: his experience in the Indian seas recommended him to the situation he now occupied, as acting master of a frigate: he was a figure to play Falstaff, being very stout, and nearly six feet high. He wore his clothes loose, and, when he came on board, a sailor, struck with his appearance, turning his quid as he eyed him, exclaimed, "We shall never be in distress for canvass; our new master wears a spare set of sails."

I shall give Peterson's history in his own words, as related after dinner the day he came on board. "I have been," said he, "thirty-two years at sea, and have seen both calms and storms. When a young man, I was stuck full of arrows by some savage Americans; and but for a tobacco-box, which stopped one that hit upon a vital part, I should have gone to Davy's locker at that time. Since I came to this country, twenty-eight years ago, I have had many ups and downs, but weathered them all pretty tolerably till three years since, when coming to Bombay in a small sloop, I was laid on board by some pirates belonging to Bate.[1] We fought as well as we could, but the rascals were too many for us, and while we were defending one part of the vessel they sprung on board at another, giving a fire at the same time, which killed my owner close beside me. A passenger then jumped overboard, for which, thought I, 'you are a fool;' for let the worst come to the worst, a man may do that at any time. One of these fellows looking at me cried 'Mar haramee,' which means, 'kill the rascal.' 'Mut mar,' 'don't kill him,' said a soft-hearted looking fellow, and defended me from the blow; so they did not kill me, but stripped and bound me to the capstan, and away they took us to Bate. When we came there, the chief or head fellow came on board, and I fully expected we should be sent ashore and hanged. When this chap sent for me, I was a pretty figure; I had not been shaved for three weeks, and I was wrapped round with a top-gallant studding sail. 'What are you?' said the fellow. 'An Englishman,' said I. 'Very well; I won't kill you.' 'Faith,' thinks I, 'I'm very glad of that.' 'My people,' says he, 'are all big thieves.' 'Egad,' thinks I, 'you are the biggest of the gang.' He then asked me what money or property I had; and I thought at one time he looked as if he would have given it back; so I tells him all, even to my gold watch. The whole was about five thousand rupees. 'Well, well,' says he, 'it shall be taken care of;' and I suppose it was, for I never saw a rap of it, only five rupees that the villain gave me, in a present, as he called it, to bear my expenses when he sent me and my crew to Bombay.

"I left Bate, notwithstanding my losses, as happy as could be, to get out of their clutches alive; and after some days we reached Bombay in a pretty pickle; my feet were swelled, I had not shaved since my capture, and I had only a few ragged clothes on. Two rupees were left out of the five, and with them I went to a tavern and ordered breakfast; when it was over I told one of the servants to call his master. In came an English waiter, with his head all powdered, shuffling and mincing, saying, as he entered the room, 'Do you want me, Sir?' 'Yes,' says I, 'I want you: I have been plundered, and have got no cash, and will thank you to lend me twenty or thirty rupees.' 'What are you—a common sailor?' 'Not quite,' says I; 'but I want the money to get a few clothes, and then I can go to my friends.' 'I am not master of this house,' said this gentleman, and out he skips. I saw no more of him or his twenty rupees; and when I told a servant to get me a tiffin, he said I had not paid for my breakfast. As I was jawing with this fellow, a Parsee[2] came in, and asked me if I had not better go to the bazar, and borrow some clothes, and then go to my friends. Well, God knows, I had not much heart to do any thing; for the unkindness of my countryman, after all I had suffered, cut me just as if I had been cut with a knife; but I thought I might as well follow the Parsee, who was one of those fellows that go about Bombay trying what they can make of every body they meet. I goes first to one shop, and tries things on; and when they fit, I says, 'I will pay you to-morrow;' but the fellow says, 'No; ready money.' Well, I was obliged to strip again: this happened at four shops, and I was quite tired, when a good fellow, who keeps No. 18, of the Great Bazar, said I might fit myself, and pay when I could. I then got rigged, and stood away for Mr. Adamson, whom I had before known. I met him at the door of his house, and he did not know me; but when I told him my story—'Oh!' says he, quite pitiful, 'are you the poor fellow who has suffered so much? I will get you a berth in another ship—and take this.' So saying, he gives me one hundred rupees. Well, I thanked him; and next goes to Captain Phillips, and got from him a present of two gold mohurs, and six suits of good clothes, from top to toe. He made me report and write three or four sheets about Bate, and how I had been used; and then sent me to the governor, Mr. Duncan, who gets all the long story from me again, and then gave me one hundred rupees. I had now two hundred and thirty rupees and clean rigging. I goes again to the tavern, and sings out lustily for tiffin. Well, they look and sees I am quite a different thing from before, and so become mighty civil and attentive. The waiter begs my pardon—says he was mistaken—and that he had twenty rupees ready, and would give me any aid I liked. 'D—n your aid,' says I; 'you are very ready to give it to any person who does not want it.' It was a great treat to me to serve him as I did: I eat my tiffin, paid for it on the table, and left the house.

"Well," said Peterson, "to make a long story short, I went in a China ship, and last year got the command of a vessel belonging to a Persian merchant, who trades to the Gulf. He was a bad owner, had no credit, and, what with that and the fear of the Arabs, I had a troublesome time of it. We parted; and he has got another captain, rather black to be sure, but he likes him all the better, I suppose, from being nearer his own vile colour than I was; and I, by this means, being along shore, having no money or credit, am glad to come as acting-master of this here ship. I thank God I have good health, and don't complain; many are worse off than I am."

Such was our master's[3] history. In a conversation I had with him, as we were walking the deck, the day we arrived at Muscat, I asked him if he had a wife? "No;" said he. "You were never married, then?" "I didn't say so," he replied. "I beg your pardon," said I. "Oh! no harm, no harm! the honest truth never need be hid: I was married: but taking a long voyage, being away seven years, and my letters (of which, by the by, I wrote but few) miscarrying, what does my wife do, but marries again. This I heard when I got home to England." "And what did you do?" said I; "did you inquire after her?" "Indeed I did not," said Peterson with great indifference; "I didn't think her worth so much trouble; she was glad, I suppose, to get rid of me, and, God knows, I was not sorry to be shot of her."

The vicissitudes to which sailors are subject train them to bear what are termed the ups and downs of life better than any other men in the world. They appear, when afloat, not only to leave all their cares on shore, but to forget the hardships incident to their condition. A remarkable instance of this was given by our captain, who told us that he went one day to see a tender, on board which there was a great number of men who had just been pressed, and who, though strictly confined in their floating prison, were, nevertheless, joining in the chorus of one of our patriotic airs, and singing with great glee the old song:—

"Who are so free as we sons of the waves?"

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The island of Bate is situated at the north-western extremity of the Gulf of Cutch.

[2] Parsee is the name of the descendants of the ancient Persians, who still retain the usages and religion of their forefathers. There are many of these followers of Zoroaster at Bombay, where they form, if not the most numerous, the most respectable part of the native community.

[3] This old sailor is now no more. He continued unlucky till he found a generous patron at Bombay, whose active benevolence gave repose and comfort to his latter days.

CHAPTER II.

Muscat.

"Land from the mast-head!" "What does it look like?" "High land, sir, on the larboard bow, stretching away to the north-west." "Can you see land to starboard?" "No." "Then," says the captain, with some little swell, "we have just hit it; the watch is a good one; and three or four hours of this will bring us into Muscat." The prediction proved correct. Now, if I understood perspective and retrospective, how I would delight my readers by contrasting the barren rocky hills of Arabia, where not a trace of vegetable nature is to be found, with the shaded shores of Ceylon, and the dark forests that clothe the lofty mountains of Malabar! But I am not a picturesque traveller; suffice it therefore to say, the arid hills we were now contemplating protect, by almost encircling it, a cove, at the extremity of which is a small plain, crowded with high houses, which form the city of Muscat. This emporium to the trade of the Persian Gulf is defended by batteries which command its narrow entrance, as well as by fortifications that cover every part of the uneven and mis-shapen hills and crags around it.

Muscat is governed by a prince whose title is Imâm, and whose authority, like that of many chiefs in Arabia, is more of a patriarchal than despotic character. Though he has large fleets, including some fine frigates, and a considerable army to garrison his possessions on the coast of Africa, the shores of Arabia, and the islands of the Persian Gulf, he must attend to the summons of any inhabitant of Muscat who calls him to a court of justice. Your sceptics who deny the existence of any just administration of power, except in the commonwealth of Europe, may call this a mere form. Be it so: yet the knowledge that such a form was observed went far, in my mind, to mark the character of this petty government. But it is the eye, the disposition, and the judgment of the observer, more than what is actually seen, that stamps the condition of distant nations with those who have to form their opinions at second-hand; and the generality of readers, who have their happiness grounded on a natural prejudice in favour of their own ways and usages, lean toward such as minister to their pride and patriotism, by throwing a dark shade on all they meet different from Old England, or some of those countries in its vicinity, for which their good climate, cheap viands, and well flavoured wines have created a predilection.

The eastern hemisphere continues to have a certain venerable air with old men from a belief that the star of knowledge first enlightened its horizon: children delight in it from its containing the enchanting tales of the "Thousand and one Nights;" ladies admire its flowered muslins, rich shawls, pure pearls, and brilliant diamonds; merchants view it as a source of commercial wealth; the naturalist, the botanist, and the geologist, search its plains, its forests, and its mountains, for unicorns, spikenard, splendid specimens of zeolite, and grand basaltic formations; the English soldier looks to its fields for a harvest of reputation; while pious missionaries sally forth with more than military zeal, to reclaim the millions of the East from their errors, and direct them in the path of life.

Almost all these, however different their objects, concur in one sentiment, that the rulers of the East are despots, and their subjects slaves; that the former are cruel, the latter degraded and miserable, and both equally ignorant.

I had seen the father of the present Imâm of Muscat when I accompanied a former mission to Persia; we had been introduced to him on board the Ganjava, his flag ship, of a thousand tons burthen, and carrying forty guns. We found him, though surrounded with some state, very simply attired; he had a shawl rolled round his head as a turban, and the Arab cloak, which hung over his plain robes, was of white broadcloth, no way ornamented; he wore no jewels, and had no arms, not even a dagger, about his person; his manner was plain and manly, and marked his active enterprising character. The eyes of his crew (Arabs, Nubians, and Abyssinians), who were upon or near the quarter-deck, though they wandered now and then among his visitors, were usually fixed on their prince; but their countenance indicated affection, not fear; and I could not but observe that he never looked at or spoke to any of them but with kindness.

During this visit, while we were sitting under the awning spread over the deck, several captains of his largest vessels, who had just arrived from Bussorah, came on board. The Imâm was in the cabin with the Envoy, and before he came out, I was pleased to see the hearty manner in which these commanders saluted and were received by almost all on board. "Salâm alicum!" (Peace be with you!) was heard from all, while every one who met a friend took his right hand, and, after shaking it, raised it as high as his breast. What appeared singular, was the extent of this cordial and familiar greeting; it was not limited by those rules which are found necessary in more civilised societies. The Arab sailor, however low his occupation, exhibited an ease and independence in addressing the commanders, which showed that, as far as the intercourse between man and man was concerned, he deemed himself his equal. I asked a person sitting near me, if this familiarity did not now and then interfere with discipline? "No," he answered; "the line is well understood, and in cases of deviation there is a severe punishment; for with us, Arabs, the right of addressing our superiors, as you have now seen, is our proudest privilege, and its loss, which would be the consequence of the abuse of it, would be deeply felt, both as a privation and a disgrace."

The above scene was interrupted by the opening of the cabin door, and every one fell into his place as the Imâm came upon deck. He stood while the commanders, who had returned from their voyage, advanced in their turns, according to their rank, and, taking his extended right hand in both theirs, pressed it, at the same time bending their bodies in a low bow, after which they raised their right hand in salutation to their head, then placing it on their heart, retired backwards. The Imâm, after this ceremony was ended, seated himself, desiring us and all his principal officers to do the same.

We had a dinner prepared on board, of which the whole party partook; and when we came away, I was struck, as we passed under the stern of the vessel, by seeing some of the Imâm's ladies, among whom was his favourite wife, unveiled, looking at us with eager curiosity. They appeared much pleased, which we imputed to the notice the Envoy had taken of the Imâm's sons, two fine boys, each of whom was gratified with appropriate presents.

The view I had taken of the Imâm's court—the intercourse we had with him, his sons, and chief officers—the security which I observed merchants and other inhabitants, both Mahomedan and Hindu, enjoying at Muscat, gave me a very pleasing impression of that place, and I had made a sketch of the manners and customs of the people, no way unfavourable. This I showed one day to a friend, who was a captain in the navy, who, rather to my surprise, burst into a fit of laughter, and said, he could show me a very opposite picture of the same scene. "There is an order from the Admiralty," said he, "that the officers of a man-of-war, when they visit a port little known, should describe the manners and customs of the inhabitants. I have a blunt fellow of a master, an excellent seaman, but who troubles himself very little with matters on shore. Curious to have his observations, and knowing that he had two or three times visited the town of Muscat, I insisted on his complying with orders, and filling up the column of his journal. He evaded this duty as long as he could: at last, in despair, he went to his cabin, and returning with his book, said, 'There, sir, I have obeyed orders, and you will find all I could write about these black fellows, and all they deserve.' I took the journal and read,

'Inhabitants of Muscat.

'As to manners they have none; and their customs are very beastly.'"

This picture of the good master will no doubt be deemed by many truer than mine; and travellers who limit their observations to the busy beach, crowded with slaves, covered with packages of dates, blackened with flies, and scented with putrid salt fish, will be certain to prefer this laconic description of this rude and dirty people; or, supposing them to enter the vile narrow streets of the town, and see (as they may) strings of slaves walking, with a man following and calling out their prices as he exhibits them in this ambulatory auction:—"Number one—handsome young man, five hundred piastres; number two—a little older, but very healthy and strong, four hundred piastres;" and so on till he describes his whole string of unhappy bipeds:—who would not turn with indignation and disgust from such filth and abomination!

If, however, we have nerve enough to look a little farther into the scene which has been described, we shall find that the reason why houses are crowded upon each other, till cleanliness becomes impossible, is because men and their property are protected at this port against injustice and oppression; and our disgust at the effect will in a great degree be removed by contemplating the cause. Even with regard to the sale of slaves, of which Muscat is the great mart, though the mode of disposing of them appears to justify the master's designation of the inhabitants as "beastly in their customs," yet when we take a comparative view of the fate of the victims of this commerce, from the stain of which our own country is hardly yet purified, and which is still carried on, openly or clandestinely, by almost every power of civilised Europe, we shall be compelled to acknowledge the superior humanity of Asiatic nations.

The slave in eastern countries, after he is trained to service, attains the condition of a favoured domestic; his adoption of the religion of his master is usually the first step which conciliates the latter. Except at a few sea-ports, he is seldom put to hard labour. In Asia there are no fields tilled by slaves, no manufactories in which they are doomed to toil; their occupations are all of a domestic nature, and good behaviour is rewarded by kindness and confidence, which raises them in the community to which they belong. The term gholam, or slave, in Mahomedan countries, is not one of opprobrium, nor does it even convey the idea of a degraded condition. The Georgians, Nubians, and Abyssinians, and even the Seedee, or Caffree, as the woolly-headed Africans are called, are usually married, and their children, who are termed house-born,[4] become, in a manner, part of their master's family. They are deemed the most attached of his adherents: they often inherit a considerable portion of his wealth; and not unfrequently (with the exception of the woolly-headed Caffree) lose, by a marriage in his family, or by some other equally respectable connexion, all trace of their origin.

According to the Mahomedan law, the state of slavery is divided into two conditions—the perfect and absolute, or imperfect and privileged. Those who belong to the first class are, with all their property, at the disposal of their masters. The second, though they cannot, before emancipation, inherit or acquire property, have many privileges, and cannot be sold or transferred. A female, who has a child to her master, belongs to the privileged class; as does a slave to whom his master has promised his liberty, on the payment of a certain sum, or on his death.

The greatest encouragement is given in the Koran,[5] and by all commentaries on that volume, to the manumission of slaves. Mahomed has said, "Unto such of your slaves as desire a written instrument, allowing them to redeem themselves, on paying a certain sum, write one, if ye know good in them, and give them of the riches of God, which he hath given you."

It is in obedience to this precept that pious Mahomedans often grant small pieces of land to a slave, or teach him a profession, that he may, through industry and frugality, attain the means of paying for his freedom, at the same time that he acquires habits which render him worthy of the great gift. Mahomedans are also encouraged to manumit their slaves by the law, which gives them a title, as residuary heir, to any property which the person to whom they may have granted freedom dies possessed.

On one point the slaves in Mahomedan countries are on a footing with free females: they are only liable, for any crimes they commit, to suffer half the punishment to which a free man would be subject. This law proceeds on the ground of their not being supposed on a par, as to knowledge or social ties, with other parts of the community. The application, however, of this principle of justice to cases where the law awards death or amputation, has puzzled the wise Moullahs, or doctors, who have resorted to the usual remedy, of writing ponderous volumes upon the subject; but I do not learn that they have yet discovered a plan by which an offending woman or slave can be punished with the loss of half a life; or an operation be performed, which will leave them with a half-amputated limb.

To return to Muscat: I had visited it at all seasons; it was now winter, and the climate was pleasant; in summer, the heat is intolerable. Shut out by the hills from every breeze, except that which blows directly into the narrow entrance of the cove, there is seldom a breath of air; and the reflection of the sun, from the bare rocks and white fortifications which overhang the town and harbour, produces a temperature, which is described by a Persian poet as giving to a panting sinner a lively anticipation of his future destiny!

The young Imâm, Syed Sayed, was absent on an expedition; but I regretted this the less as I had seen his father, who was, in simplicity of manners, good sense, and courage, the equal of his deserving son.

Among the first who came on board, I was pleased to see my old friend, Mahomed Gholoum. Being a good seaman, he had, on the former mission, in the year 1800, acted as our pilot from Muscat to Ormus. He was now advanced to be a pilot of the state, being one of the principal ministers of the young Imâm, of whose character he spoke in high praise. "His father," said he, "was a brave man; he was killed in battle; and if his son goes on exposing himself everywhere, he will be killed also. He will regret much not seeing the Envoy, of whose kindness to him when a boy he retains a grateful recollection; for he preserves with great care the model of a seventy-four gun ship, with which he was presented by him."

Mahomed Gholoum was not changed by his prosperity, but retained all the frankness and manliness of an Arab sailor. We had many old stories, and at one, in which he was a prominent actor, he laughed very heartily. He had wished to take our vessel, the Bombay frigate, to the southward of Ormus; but as we neared that island, the wind headed us, as the sailors call it, at the same time that it increased to a gale, and our pilot told the captain we had nothing left but to run for the harbour we desired to make, by steering between the island and the Persian shore. We did so; the weather became worse—it blew a hurricane; the channel, which is narrow, was missed, and we touched on a mud-bank, where the ship settled for a moment, and the waves dashed over her. The captain ordered more sail, to try and force her through the mud, exclaiming at the same time, "I would rather give a lac of rupees than lose the Company's ship." "Never mind the Company's ship," said a passenger, "so you land us safe." The seaman in the chains kept heaving the lead, and calling "Quarter less three." "What is the use of your quarter less three," said an impatient landsman, "when the ship is aground?" "That's the captain's business, not mine," said the unconcerned Jack, and again he hove, and again he called "Quarter less three." At this moment my attention was drawn to my friend Mahomed Gholoum, who was appalled by an Irish officer's exclaiming, "I do not understand your vile lingo; but I will cut your throat, (and he sawed with his finger across his windpipe to make him comprehend what he meant,) I will cut your throat, you ignoramus, for drowning of gentlemen in this rascally sea."

As these scenes were passing, the press of sail which had been put upon our vessel forced her over the bank: a few minutes more saw us safe in the harbour of Ormus, and all our danger forgotten. Mahomed Gholoum, quite exhausted, had, soon after we anchored, fallen asleep on a couch in the captain's cabin; but he was dreaming of past events, and when I shook him, to make him rise to partake of supper, he started up, and with a wild look called out, "How many fathom have you?" We told him to take his seat, and we would teach him, Mahomedan as he was, to fathom a bowl.

Soon after our arrival at Muscat, we were visited by men of all nations and colours. I was principally attracted by the appearance and manners of some Arabs from the interior, who were brought on board by their countrymen to see an English ship of war. Their figures were light and elastic, their countenances expressed quickness and energy. The most remarkable of their features were their dark rolling eyes, which perhaps struck me more from their wandering rapidly from one object to another, glistening with wonder at all they saw. A good telescope happened to be placed so as to give a complete view of one of the farthest fortifications. I called an Arab to look through it, and he did so for about a minute, then gazed with the most eager attention at me, and, without saying a word, dashed over the ship's side. When the boat he was in got to a little distance, he exclaimed, "You are magicians, and I now see how you take towns; that thing (pointing to the telescope), be they ever so far off, brings them as near as you like." We were much amused with his simplicity, but no arguments could prevail on him to return and receive such a lesson on optics as might dispel his delusion in supposing us to be adepts in the black art.

The Arabs at Muscat gave a luxuriant description of some beautiful valleys about twenty miles from that town; but the result of minute inquiry forced us to conclude that the green meadows and clear streams they described owed much of their value to their rarity, and that the title of Arabia the Happy is rather founded on the barrenness of the far greater part of this renowned land, than on anything wonderful either in the climate or productions of the tract to which it is applied.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] Khâna-zâdeh.

[5] Vide Sale's Koran, vol. ii, p. 186.

CHAPTER III.

The Persian Gulf and Abusheher.

When we had fairly entered the Persian Gulf I found myself on classic ground, where all the wonderful adventures of Sinbad the sailor were, what a genuine Yankee would call located. I sent for an Arabian servant called Khudâdâd, and asked him who were the inhabitants of the barren shore of Arabia that we saw. He answered, with apparent alarm—"They are of the sect of Wahâbees, and are called Jouassimee; but God preserve us from them, for they are monsters. Their occupation is piracy, and their delight murder; and to make it worse, they give you the most pious reasons for every villainy they commit. They abide by the letter of the sacred volume, rejecting all commentaries and traditions. If you are their captive, and offer all you possess to save your life, they say 'No! it is written in the Koran that it is unlawful to plunder the living, but we are not prohibited in that sacred work from stripping the dead;' so saying, they knock you on the head. But then," continued Khudâdâd, "that is not so much their fault, for they are descended from a Houl, or monster, and they act according to their nature."

I begged he would inform me about their descent. He seemed surprised at my ignorance, and said it was a story that he thought was known to every one in the world, but proceeded to comply with my request.

"An Arab fisherman," said he, "who lived in a village on the Persian Gulf, not far from Gombroon, being one day busy at his usual occupation, found his net so heavy that he could hardly drag it on shore. Exulting in his good fortune, he exerted all his strength: but judge of his astonishment, when, instead of a shoal of fish, he saw in his net an animal of the shape of a man, but covered with hair. He approached it with caution; but finding it harmless, carried it to his house, where it soon became a favourite; for, though it could speak no language, and utter no sound except 'houl, houl,' (from whence it took its name,) it was extremely docile and intelligent; and the fisherman, who possessed some property, employed it to guard his flocks.

"It happened one day that a hundred Persian horsemen, clothed in complete armour, came from the interior, and began to drive away the sheep. The Houl, who was alone, and had no arms but a club, made signs for them to desist; but they only scoffed at his unnatural appearance, till he slew one or two who approached too near him. They now attacked him in a body; but his courage and strength were surpassed by his activity, and while all fell who came within his reach, he eluded every blow of his enemies; and they fled, after losing half their numbers.

"The fisherman and his neighbours, when they heard of the battle, hastened to the aid of the faithful Houl, whom they found in possession of the horses, clothes, and arms of the vanquished Persians. An Arab of the village, struck with his valour, and casting an eye of cupidity at the wealth he had acquired, offered him the hand of his daughter, who was very beautiful, and she, preferring good qualities to outward appearance, showed no reluctance to become the bride of this kind and gallant monster. Their marriage was celebrated with more pomp than was ever before known in the village; and the Houl, who was dressed in one of the richest suits of the Persians he had slain, and mounted on one of their finest horses, looked surprisingly well. He was quite beside himself with joy, playing such antics, and exhibiting such good humour, strength, and agility, that his bride, who had at first been pitied, became the envy of every fisherman's daughter. She would have been more so, could they have foreseen the fame to which she was destined. She had four sons, from whom are descended the four tribes of Ben Jouassim, Ben Ahmed, Ben Nasir, and Ben Saboohil, who are to this day known by the general name of Ben Houl, or the children of Houl. They are all fishermen, boatmen, and pirates, and live chiefly at sea, inheriting, it is believed, the amphibious nature of their common ancestor."

After this tale was concluded, I asked Khudâdâd what kind of men inhabited those high mountains which we saw rising on the Persian shores of the gulf. Delighted at this second opportunity of showing his knowledge, he replied, "They also are robbers, but they are not so bad as the Jouassimee. They refer their first settlement in these mountains to the devil; but then they are the children of men, and their nature is not diabolical, though their deeds are sometimes very like it."

On questioning Khudâdâd further, I found he had the popular story taken from Firdousee,[6] and that he kept pretty near to his text; but I shall give it in his own words. "You have heard of Zohâk, prince of Arabia?" I said I had. "Well then," he continued, "you know he was a very wicked man. He conquered Jemsheed, king of Persia, who was in those days deemed the most glorious monarch on earth. After this great success Zohâk was tempted by the devil, who allured him, under the shape of a venerable old man, to kill his father, that he might become king of Arabia as well as Persia. In those days men lived on vegetable diet; but the devil, anxious to destroy as many of the human race as he could, tempted Zohâk with some new roasted eggs, and perceiving him to relish his food, proposed to cook him a dish of partridges and quails, with the flavour of which the Prince was so delighted that he bade his friend ask any favour he liked. The wily old man said all he wished was to kiss the shoulders of his beloved monarch. They were bared for that purpose; but no sooner had the infernal lips touched them than out sprang from each a ravenous serpent, and at the same time the venerable old man changed to his natural shape, and disappeared in a thunder-storm, exclaiming that human brains alone would satisfy the monsters he had created, and that their death would be followed by that of Zohâk.

"It fell out as the devil foretold: the serpents refused all other food, and, for a period, two victims were daily slain to satisfy them. Those charged with the preparation of this horrid repast, seeing the devil's design, determined on frustrating it; and while they paraded before Zohâk and his serpents the persons who were doomed to death, they substituted the brains of sheep, and sent their supposed human victims to the mountains of Kerman and Lauristan, where they increased, and became a great people, and their descendants still inhabit these hills. There can be no doubt," said Khudâdâd, gravely, "of the truth of what I have told you; for it is all written in a book, and a fine poem made upon it, which is called the Shâh-nâmeh, or Book of Kings."

Having acquired this correct information about the shores of the gulf, I landed at Abusheher,[7] a Persian sea-port, celebrated as the mart of chintzes and long-ells, of dates and asafœtida. We were met on the beach by the whole population of the town. What appeared to excite most admiration was the light company of His Majesty's 84th Regiment, whose uniform appearance caused no slight wonder. Struck with their similarity of look, one man exclaimed, "These fellows must all have had the same father and mother!" "That cannot be," said another, "for they must all have been born on the same day." "They are proper devils, I'll warrant them," said an old woman, who had been looking at them very attentively. They had now received the order to march; and the regularity with which their feet moved was a new subject of surprise. An old merchant, called Hajee Ismael, whose life had been spent amongst his accounts, and who delighted in everything that was regular, stood at a corner as they passed in files, and kept saying, as he noted them with his fingers, "correct,[8] correct, correct." Take it all in all, our landing seemed to give great pleasure to the men, women, and children of the port of Abusheher.

We had not been on shore a week before two events occurred, one of which showed what the Persians thought of us, and the other taught us what we should think of them.

Before the year 1800 no political mission from an European nation had visited the court of Persia for a century; but the English, though only known in that kingdom as merchants, had fame as soldiers, from the report of their deeds in India. An officer of one of the frigates, who had gone ashore to visit the Envoy, when mounted on a spirited horse, afforded no small entertainment to the Persians by his bad horsemanship. The next day the man who supplied the ship with vegetables, and who spoke a little English, met him on board, and said, "Don't be ashamed, sir, nobody knows you: bad rider! I tell them, you, like all English, ride well, but that time they see you, very drunk!" We were much amused at this conception of our national character. The Persian thought it would have been a reproach for a man of a warlike nation not to ride well, but none for an European to get drunk.

The other occurrence was still more characteristic. The Envoy or Elchee,[9] as the Persians called him, had, among other plans for doing good, one for the introduction of potatoes. Among those who listened to him, and applauded his disinterested intentions to benefit Persia, was a fat, smooth-faced young merchant, who obtained a promise of a considerable quantity of potatoes for seed, having (according to his own report) rented a large piece of ground, that he might be an humble instrument in the hands of the British Representative for doing good. The latter, pleased with his zeal, honoured this excellent man with such particular attention, that, conceiving himself a prime favourite, he ventured one day to suggest that "As the season was too far advanced for the potatoe-garden that year, it would not be unworthy of the Elchee's wonted liberality to commute his intended present for a pair of pistols, or a piece of British broadcloth." This premature disclosure of the real object of this professed improver of the soil produced no little ridicule, in which his countrymen, who were jealous of the favour he had enjoyed, joined most heartily. He was known till the day of his death, which happened three years ago, by the name of Potatoes. It is satisfactory to add, that the plan for introducing this valuable root did not fail: they were found to flourish at Abusheher, where they are called "Malcolm's[10] plum," after the Elchee, who looks to the accident which gave his name to a useful vegetable as one of his best chances of enduring fame.

The English factory, which had long been at Gombroon, had been removed some years before to Abusheher. All the old servants had accompanied it, and one, of the name of Suffer, had recently died, of whom I was delighted to hear, from the best authority, an anecdote, which did credit to the kindness of our countrymen, while it showed that even in this soil, good usage will generate strong and lasting attachment. When poor Suffer, who had been fifty years a servant in the factory, was on his death-bed, the English doctor ordered him a glass of wine. He at first refused it, saying, "I cannot take it; it is forbidden in the Koran." But after a few moments he begged the doctor to give it him, saying, as he raised himself in his bed, "Give me the wine; for it is written in the same volume, that all you unbelievers will be excluded from Paradise; and the experience of fifty years teaches me to prefer your society in the other world, to any place unto which I can be advanced with my own countrymen." He died a few hours after this sally, which I was glad to observe proved of value to his son, a rough-looking lad named Derveish, who was introduced by the Resident to the Envoy, at the time the former told the story of the father's attachment. Derveish was taken into service, and I have watched his gradual advancement till he has become the proprietor of a large boat, which is the ne plus ultra of the ambition of an Abusheheree.

The natives of this place are almost all of Arab race, and fond of the sea; a propensity the more remarkable, as it is in such strong contrast with the disposition of the Persians, of whom all classes have an unconquerable antipathy to that element. But this is not the only characteristic distinction between these classes of men, who appear to agree in nothing but in dwelling in the same town. The Persians, who have been tempted by the hope of gain to exchange the fine climate of the elevated plains of the interior, for the sea-ports on the edge of the sultry desert, which forms the shores of the gulf, retain all the smooth pliant manners of their country; and they look with disgust on what they deem the rude barbarous habits of the Arabians, who are the great body of the inhabitants of this track, and who can scarcely be distinguished, either in look or sentiment, from their kindred on the opposite shore.

A remarkable instance of the difference of character, between the lower orders of these two classes, occurred one morning, when the Envoy was preparing a match, to be run by a beautiful English greyhound called Venus, and a strong Arabian dog named Kessâb, or the Butcher. He was giving directions to his master of the chase, Hyder, and expressing his sanguine hopes of Venus's success: Mahomed Beg, a tall well-dressed Persian groom, assented to all his anticipations, saying, "What pretensions can that Arab dog have to run with the beautiful greyhound of the Elchee?"

Others joined in the same language, and the opinion appeared general, when an Arab, called Gherreeba,[11] whose pay was only four piastres[12] a month, whose chequered turban and cloth round his middle were not worth one, and whose occupation was sitting all day exposed to the sun, watering some grass screens that were placed against the door of the house to exclude the heat—darted up, and, with an eye of fire and the most marked energy, exclaimed, "By the all-powerful God, the Arab dog will triumph."[13]

Gherreeba was for the moment the representative of the feelings of his country. The parasites around stood watching the Elchee, and were not a little mortified when they heard him applaud the honest warmth and manly independence of the poor Arab, who was invited to witness the trial. It ended, like most similar trials, in each party being convinced that their own favourite was, or ought to have been, the winner. The dogs ran as usual beautifully: Venus was by far the fleetest; but the chase, which was after a half-grown antelope, proved long, and the strength of the Butcher prevailed towards the close. It is however, justice to the deer species, while we are praising the canine, to add, that the antelope beat them both.

FOOTNOTES:

[6] Firdousee is the first of the epic poets of Persia, and few countries can boast of a greater genius. His chief work, the Shâh-nâmeh, or Book of Kings, contains, mixed with allegory and fable, almost all the Persians know of their ancient history.

[7] Abusheher is the proper name, but it is better known to Europeans by the abbreviated appellation of Bushire.

[8] "Hissab," the Persian word, literally means an account; metaphorically, "correct, or according to a just account."

[9] Elchee means ambassador, or representative of a foreign nation.

[10] Alou, e, Malcolm.

[11] Gherreeb means poor—this man was really so; but it is not unusual to meet Mahomedans, who are remarkable for their rank, pride, or wealth, with names of similar character, that have been given by their mothers in a spirit of religious humility.

[12] The value of a piastre is about twenty pence.

[13] Billâh il azeem yadhfar al Arab.

CHAPTER IV.

Camp at Abusheher—Horses—Abdûlla Aga—Anecdote of Arab.

Soon after we arrived at Abusheher our camp looked like a fair for horses and mules. It was necessary to mount, not only the Elchee and his suite, but his escort of English and Indian cavalry, and all the servants, public and private; for in Persia nobody walks. To suit the different persons of our party, animals of different descriptions were wanted; from the coarse Persian galloway[14] to the Arabian of pure strain,[15] many of which are bred on the Persian shore, with as much attention to preserve the original blood, as imported from Arabia, as could be shown in the first race-studs in England.

Hyder, the Elchee's master of the chase, was the person who imparted knowledge to me on all subjects relating to Arabian horses. He would descant by the hour on the qualities of a colt that was yet untried, but which, he concluded, must possess all the perfections of its sire and dam, with whose histories, and that of their progenitors, he was well acquainted. Hyder had shares in five or six famous brood mares; and he told me a mare was sometimes divided amongst ten or twelve Arabs, which accounted for the groups of half-naked fellows whom I saw watching, with anxiety, the progress made by their managing partner in a bargain for one of the produce. They often displayed, on these occasions, no small violence of temper; and I have more than once observed a party leading off their ragged colt in a perfect fury, at the blood of Daghee or Shumehtee, or some renowned sire or grandsire, being depreciated by an inadequate offer, from an ignorant Indian or European.

The Arabs place still more value on their mares than on their horses; but even the latter are sometimes esteemed beyond all price. When the Envoy, returning from his former mission, was encamped near Bagdad, an Arab rode a bright bay horse, of extraordinary shape and beauty, before his tent, till he attracted his notice. On being asked if he would sell him—"What will you give me?" said he. "It depends upon his age; I suppose he is past five?" "Guess again," was the reply. "Four?" "Look at his mouth," said the Arab, with a smile. On examination he was found rising three; this, from his size and perfect symmetry, greatly enhanced his value. The Envoy said, "I will give you fifty tomans."[16] "A little more, if you please," said the fellow, apparently entertained. "Eighty! a hundred!" He shook his head and smiled. The offer came at last to two hundred tomans! "Well," said the Arab, seemingly quite satisfied, "you need not tempt me any farther—it is of no use; you are a fine Elchee; you have fine horses, camels, and mules, and I am told you have loads of silver and gold: now," added he, "you want my colt, but you shall not have him for all you have got." So saying he rode off to the desert, whence he had come, and where he, no doubt, amused his brethren with an account of what had passed between him and the European Envoy.

Inquiry was made of some officers of the Pasha of Bagdad respecting this young man; they did not know him, but conjectured that, notwithstanding his homely appearance, he was the son or brother of a chief, or perhaps himself the head of a family; and such Arabs, they said, when in comparative affluence, no money could bribe to sell a horse like the one described.

I was one day relating the above story to Abdûlla Aga, the former governor of Bussorah, who was at Abusheher, having been obliged to fly from Turkey. He told me that, when in authority, he several times had great trouble in adjusting disputes among Arab tribes regarding a horse or mare which had been carried off by one of them from another; not on account of the value of the animals, that having been often offered ten-fold, but from jealousy of their neighbour's becoming possessed of a breed of horses which they desired to remain exclusively in their own tribe. An Arab Shaikh or chief, he told me, who lived within fifty miles of Bussorah, had a favourite breed of horses. He lost one of his best mares, and could not for a long time discover whether she was stolen or had strayed. Some time afterwards, a young man of a different tribe, who had long wished to marry his daughter, but had always been rejected by the Shaikh, obtained the lady's consent and eloped with her. The Shaikh and his followers pursued; but the lover and his mistress, mounted on the same horse, made a wonderful march, and escaped. The old chief swore that the fellow was either mounted upon the devil or the favourite mare he had lost. After his return he found, on inquiry, the latter was the case; that the lover was the thief of his mare as well as of his daughter, and that he had stolen the one for the purpose of carrying off the other. He was quite gratified to think he had not been beaten by a horse of another breed, and was easily reconciled to the young man, in order that he might recover the mare, which appeared an object about which he was more solicitous than his daughter.

Abdûlla Aga is a man in whose company I take great pleasure. His understanding is vigorous and strong, and he has sufficient knowledge of the English character to speak his sentiments with freedom and confidence. I shall give the substance of a conversation I had with him about two weeks after my arrival, regarding the present condition of Persia and Turkey, with the resources and character of both which states he is intimately acquainted. Speaking of Turkey, he said he had no idea of its having the power to resist the slightest attack; and he believed, if left alone, it would soon fall to pieces of itself.—"I am myself a Turk, and know my countrymen well: from the Grand Signior to the lowest peasant in the empire, they are alike devoid of public virtue and patriotism; and that spirit of religion, which has long been the only bond of union that has kept this unwieldy state together, is every day becoming fainter; and while the Wahâbees are making converts of the inhabitants of Arabia and Syria, the provinces of Turkey in Europe are relaxing from their religious zeal, and becoming every day more ripe for the rule of those Christian nations, under whose power they must soon fall."

I could not help saying, I thought he drew an overcharged picture of the weak and distracted state of his country. "You will soon see," he said, "whether I am right or wrong. No man, whatever may be his rank, looks beyond his beard in Turkey: if he can find any expedient that gives him a prospect of its growing grey in quiet, he is content; and where all are so decidedly selfish in their views, who is to provide for the safety of the state, to guard which there must be some common sentiment of union?"

"What think you of Persia?" I asked. "Why, twenty times worse than of Turkey," replied he; "because they are to the full as devoid of every public principle, and much more ignorant. Believe me, you will soon be satisfied that they deserve this character. Can there be a doubt, at the present moment, how they ought to act between you and the French? And yet you will be able to settle nothing with them that is in the least satisfactory, without heavy bribes or harsh measures. The latter," he added, "will be the wisest in the present instance; for to feed their cupidity is only to whet their appetite, and to encourage them in a course that will, in its result, prove as injurious to these short-sighted fools as to the interests of the English government."

"The Elchee's intentions are so friendly," I observed in reply, "and his wishes so correspond with their true interests, that they must, I think, meet them, when all the advantages are explained." "Before you anticipate success from such an explanation, you should be certain that those to whom you speak have sense to comprehend you, which the Persians certainly have not. They think of nothing at this moment but the Russians, with whom they have discovered they are not able to contend. The French pretend to relieve them from this formidable danger, which they have not themselves the courage to face; and they cling to this promise without ever considering how far those who make it have the means of performing it. They neither understand the nature or distance of the resources of England or France, and are consequently incapable of forming a correct idea of the comparative power which those states possess of aiding or injuring them. They know that Bombay is within a month's sail, Madras six weeks, and Calcutta two months; and they believe you have some ships at these places; but even of these they have no clear idea; and as to Europe, they are as ignorant as an Abyssinian."

"Assuredly," said I, "you underrate their knowledge." "I do not," said Abdûlla; "they are worse than I have painted them, and their ignorance is so fortified by pride, that there is no hope of their amendment. Why (said he, with animation), what can you expect from men who are ignorant of the surface of the globe? There," said he, pointing to a rude Turkish book on geography, which lay near him, and appeared to be a translation from an old geographical grammar—"there is the only source of my knowledge, which does not place me on a par with one of your schoolboys of twelve years of age; and yet I am a wonder among these fools, who are astonished at the extent of my information in this branch of science."

Though I think it is a very deep and wise observation of that arch politician Machiavel, that the report of a man who has fled his country should not be implicitly trusted, as there must be a bias in his mind to depreciate what he has been obliged to abandon: still there is much truth in the picture which Abdûlla drew of Turkey, and his description of the Persians was not greatly exaggerated. The knowledge of that nation is limited to what they see before them, and their ideas of other States are very indistinct and confused, and consequently liable to frequent fluctuations and changes. All ranks in Persia are brought up to admire show and parade; and they are more likely to act from the dictates of imagination and vanity, than of reason and judgment. Their character was well drawn by Mahomed Nubbee Khan, the late ambassador to India. "If you wish my countrymen to understand you, speak to their eyes, not their ears."

My conversation with Abdûlla Aga was interrupted by the arrival of a medical gentleman, who had long resided at Abusheher, and who was not more remarkable for skill in his profession than a kindness of heart, which led him to devote his time to the poor inhabitants of the country who sought his aid. He had just been setting the broken leg of an Arab, of whom he gave us a very characteristic anecdote.

"The patient," the doctor said, "complained more of the accident which had befallen him than I thought becoming in one of his tribe. This I remarked to him, and his answer was truly amusing. 'Do not think, doctor, I should have uttered one word of complaint if my own high-bred colt, in a playful kick, had broke both my legs; but to have a bone broken by a brute of a jackass is too bad, and I will complain.'"

This distinction of feeling, as to the mode in which bones are broken, is not confined to the Arabs. I once met an artilleryman, after an action in India, with his arm shattered, who was loudly lamenting his bad fortune. I pointed, in an upbraiding manner, to some fine fellows on the ground, whose luck had been worse. "It is not the wound, sir," he retorted, in a passion, "of which I complain: had I lost a limb by a cannon-ball, I should not have said a word; but to lose one by a rascally rocket would make any one mad!"

FOOTNOTES:

[14] Yaboo.

[15] Regee Pak, the term by which these high-bred animals are distinguished, means literally "pure veins."

[16] A toman is a nominal coin, nearly the value of a pound sterling.

CHAPTER V.

Hunting and Hawking—Entertainment of the Shaikh—Tollemache—Mirage—Nadir Shâh and Turkish Ambassador.

We were kept several weeks at Abusheher; and among other amusements by which we beguiled the tedium of our sojourn at this dull sea-port, were those of hunting and hawking; which, according to the Nimrods of our party, are nowhere found in greater perfection: but as the mode of killing the game differs essentially from that of other countries, I shall describe it, that such sportsmen as can read may judge of its merits.

The huntsmen proceed to a large plain, or rather desert, near the sea-side: they have hawks and greyhounds; the former carried in the usual manner, on the hand of the huntsman; the latter led in a leash by a horseman, generally the same who carries the hawk. When the antelope is seen, they endeavour to get as near as possible; but the animal, the moment it observes them, goes off at a rate that seems swifter than the wind; the horsemen are instantly at full speed, having slipped the dogs. If it is a single deer, they at the time fly the hawks; but if a herd, they wait till the dogs have fixed on a particular antelope. The hawks, skimming along near the ground, soon reach the deer, at whose head they pounce in succession, and sometimes with a violence that knocks it over. At all events, they confuse the animal so much as to stop its speed in such a degree that the dogs can come up; and in an instant men, horses, dogs, and hawks, surround the unfortunate deer, against which their united efforts have been combined. The part of the chase that surprised me most was the extraordinary combination of the hawks and the dogs, which throughout seemed to look to each other for aid. This, I was told, was the result of long and skilful training.

The antelope is supposed to be the fleetest quadruped on earth, and the rapidity of the first burst of the chase I have described is astonishing. The run seldom exceeds three or four miles, and often is not half so much. A fawn is an easy victory; the doe often runs a good chase, and the buck is seldom taken. The Arabs are, indeed, afraid to fly their hawks at the latter, as these fine birds, in pouncing, frequently impale themselves on its sharp horns.

The hawks used in this sport are of a species that I have never seen in any other country. This breed, which is called Cherkh, is not large, but of great beauty and symmetry.

Another mode of running down the antelope is practised here, and still more in the interior of Persia. Persons of the highest rank lead their own greyhounds in a long silken leash, which passes through the collar, and is ready to slip the moment the huntsman chooses. The well-trained dog goes alongside the horse, and keeps clear of him when at full speed, and in all kinds of country. When a herd of antelopes is seen, a consultation is held, and the most experienced determine the point towards which they are to be driven. The field (as an English sportsman would term it) then disperse, and while some drive the herd in the desired direction, those with the dogs take their post on the same line, at the distance of about a mile from each other; one of the worst dogs is then slipped at the herd, and from the moment he singles out an antelope the whole body are in motion. The object of the horsemen who have greyhounds is to intercept its course, and to slip fresh dogs, in succession, at the fatigued animal. In rare instances the second dog kills. It is generally the third or fourth; and even these, when the deer is strong, and the ground favourable, often fail. This sport, which is very exhilarating, was the delight of the late King of Persia, Aga Mahomed Khan, whose taste is inherited by the present Sovereign.

The novelty of these amusements interested me, and I was pleased, on accompanying a party to a village, about twenty miles from Abusheher, to see a species of hawking, peculiar, I believe, to the sandy plains of Persia, on which the Hubara,[17] a noble species of bustard is found on almost bare plains, where it has no shelter but a small shrub called geetuck. When we went in quest of them we had a party of about twenty, all well mounted. Two kinds of hawks are necessary for this sport; the first, the cherkh (the same which is flown at the antelope), attacks them on the ground, but will not follow them on the wing; for this reason, the Bhyree, a hawk well known in India, is flown the moment the hubara rises.

As we rode along in an extended line, the men who carried the cherkhs every now and then unhooded and held them up, that they might look over the plain. The first hubara we found afforded us a proof the astonishing quickness of sight of one of the hawks; he fluttered to be loose, and the man who held him gave a whoop, as he threw him off his hand, and set off at full speed. We all did the same. At first we only saw our hawk skimming over the plain, but soon perceived, at a distance of more than a mile the beautiful speckled hubara, with his head erect, and wings outspread, running forward to meet his adversary. The cherkh made several unsuccessful pounces, which were either evaded or repelled by the beak or wings of the hubara, which at last found an opportunity of rising, when a bhyree was instantly flown, and the whole party were again at full gallop. We had a flight of more than a mile, when the hubara alighted, and was killed by another cherkh, who attacked him on the ground. This bird weighed ten pounds. We killed several others, but were not always successful, having seen our hawks twice completely beaten during the two days we followed this fine sport.

The inhabitants of the country over which we hunted are all Arabs. They live, like their brethren in other parts, almost entirely on camels' milk and dates. Their care appears limited to the preservation of the animal and the propagation of the tree, which yield what they account the best of this world's luxuries; and these not only furnish this lively race of men with food, but with almost all the metaphors in which their language abounds. Of this we had an amusing instance: amongst others who accompanied the Elchee on this sporting expedition was a young officer, who measured six feet seven inches: he, like others, had lain down to take an hour's repose, between our morning and evening hunt. An old Arab who was desired to awake him, smiling, said to his servant, "Entreat your date-tree to rise." We had a hearty laugh at our friend, who was not at first quite reconciled to this comparison of his commanding stature to the pride of the desert.

If we were amused by the field-diversions of the Persians and Arabs, they were equally so with our mode of hunting. The Elchee had brought a few couples of English fox-hounds, intending them as a present to the heir-apparent, Abbas Meerzâ. With this small pack we had several excellent runs. One morning we killed a fox, after a very hard chase; and while the rest of the party were exulting in their success, cutting off poor reynard's brush, praising the hounds, adding some two feet to a wall their horses had cleared, laughing at those who had got tumbles, and recounting many a hair-breadth escape, I was entertained by listening to an Arab peasant, who, with animated gestures, was narrating to a group of his countrymen all he had seen of this noble hunt. "There went the fox," said he, pointing with a crooked stick to a clump of date-trees; "there he went at a great rate; I hallooed, and hallooed, but nobody heard me, and I thought he must get away; but when he was quite out of sight, up came a large spotted dog, and then another and another; they all had their noses on the ground, and gave tongue, whow, whow, whow, so loud that I was frightened:—away went these devils, who soon found the poor animal; after them galloped the Faringees[18], shouting and trying to make a noise louder than the dogs: no wonder they killed the fox among them; but it is certainly fine sport. Our Shaikh has no dogs like these." This last remark was assented to by all present, and the possession of a breed of dogs, which their Shaikh had not, added not a little, in the eyes of those peasants, to the character of the mission.

We were now busy preparing to leave Abusheher. Before we took our departure, the Shaikh gave the Elchee and his suite an entertainment. Among other subjects of conversation at this feast, the name of the Derveish Abdûlla, who had some years before visited that port, and sailed for India, was mentioned. I smiled as they related stories of his sanctity and learning, and still more as I found different parties, a Turk, a Persian, and an Arab, contending for the honour their country derived from his belonging to it. "You have only to hear him speak, and repeat poetry," said Hajee Ismael, "to be certain he is a Persian." "It is his recital of passages of the Koran that convinces me he is an Arab," said the Shaikh. "You may say what you like," said Abdûlla Aga, "but no man but a native of Turkey ever spoke Turkish like Derveish Abdûlla."

At this part of the conversation I put in my word, and said, "Really, gentlemen, you are all mistaken; the far-famed Derveish you mention is a Frenchman, his real name is Tollemache, and I know him well." It was not a mere smile of incredulity with which they listened. The remark I had made, while it received not the least credit, excited unpleasant feelings, and a friend near me whispered that it was better to abstain from the subject.

The following is a short history of this remarkable individual, who has attained such a perfection in the languages and manners of the natives of Asia as to deceive the most learned.

Mons. Tollemache, the son of a Dragoman at Constantinople, was many years ago recommended to Mr. Warren Hastings, who patronised him; but a quarrel, in which he was involved, at Calcutta, led to his leaving that city and going to the north-western part of India, from whence he went into the countries of Cabool, Khorassan, and Persia, and was lost trace of by his European friends for twelve years. His latter name in Persia was the Derveish Abdûlla, under which he became renowned for his piety and learning. He had officiated as first reader of prayers[19] before the late King, who honoured him with his favour. He came to Abusheher, from whence he went to Surat, where, after his overtures of service to the English government had been refused, he proceeded to the Isle of France, and is mentioned in Lord Wellesley's notes as the person employed there with Tippoo Sultan's Ambassadors. On proceeding afterwards to the Red Sea he was made prisoner by Admiral Blanket, and sent to Bombay, where I became acquainted with him at the house of a friend with whom he resided.

The memory of Tollemache was stored with rare Persian poems and songs: his conversation was, from his various knowledge, very entertaining. Of his power to assume any Asiatic character, the following anecdote will suffice. He had been dilating on his success in deceiving natives of the countries through which he passed, and observed me to be rather incredulous. I had not remarked his leaving the room some minutes before I did, but, when driving out of the gate, I was so annoyed by the importunities of a Mahomedan mendicant, who was almost naked, that I abused him, and threatened to use my whip, if he did not desist, when the fellow burst into a fit of laughter, and asked me if I so soon forgot my acquaintances? I could hardly credit my eyes and ears on recognising Tollemache; and the recollection of this occurrence prevented me saying more to my friends at the Shaikh's party, whom I left in the belief that the holy Abdûlla was a saint upon earth.

The first march from Abusheher we had to pass over a desert plain of considerable extent, on which I amused myself by watching narrowly the various changes, as we were near or remote from it, of that singular vapour, called by the French Mirage, and by the Arabs and Persians Sirab.

The influence of this vapour in changing the figure of objects is very extraordinary; it sometimes gives to those seen through it the most fantastical shapes; and, as a general effect, I think it always appears to elevate and make objects seem much taller than they really are. A man, for instance, seen through it at the distance of a mile and a half upon the level plain appears to be almost as tall as a date tree.

Its resemblance to water is complete, and justifies all the metaphors of poets, and their tales of thirsty and deluded travellers.

The most singular quality of this vapour is its power of reflection. When a near observer is a little elevated, as on horseback, he will see trees and other objects reflected as from the surface of a lake. The vapour, when seen at a distance of six or seven miles, appears to lie upon the earth like an opaque mass; and it certainly does not rise many feet above the ground, for I observed, that while the lower part of the town of Abusheher was hid from the view, some of the more elevated buildings, and the tops of a few date trees, were distinctly visible.

Among the presents for his majesty of Persia were two light field-pieces, to which were attached a select detachment of horse-artillery. Great care was taken to equip this party in the best style; and as they had a difficult march to perform, they were sent in advance, under the tall officer who has been already mentioned. Our third stage to Dalkhee was so rough and stony, that we were alarmed lest we should hear bad accounts of their progress; but our fears were all dissipated by the reports of the villagers.

"Their fathers," they said "had never seen such guns, nor such a young man as their officer." "Why," said an old Moullah, "I have often seen our guns; they move only a few yards in an hour, though dragged by a hundred oxen and a hundred men, and at every step the air resounds with 'Yâ Allah! yâ Allah!' (O God! O God!) my countrymen being obliged to invoke Heaven to help them in their heavy work; but your young officer (who is himself a wonder in size) jumps upon his horse and cries 'tap, tap,' and away trot the guns like feathers. We all came to look at him and his guns, and stared till we were tired; and every one expressed his admiration. As for me, I have commenced a poem upon the party." The Elchee, who had been laughing, looked grave at this threat of a kesseda or ode; for he is already overwhelmed with such compositions: every man in Persia who can make two lines rhyme in praise of the Mission being anxious to change, so soon as possible, the product of his imagination into solid piastres.

All our baggage and camp equipage was carried upon mules; and no country can boast of finer animals of this description than Persia. They carry heavy burdens, and travel great distances, at a rate of better than four miles an hour. They go in strings; and I was amused to see them, when at the end of the march and unloaded, tied in circles, going after each other, at their usual pace, till they were cool.

The Khater-bashee, or master of the mules, is a person of the greatest importance. This class of men are generally known by the strength of their frame, and, above all, of their lungs, which are continually exercised in consigning man and beast to every species of torment and evil, both in this world and the next. On the first mission to Persia we had a mule-driver called Hajee Hâshem, who, from his strength and temper, was the terror of caravans. This man, on our second day's march, anxious to unload his mules, refused to pay any attention to the injunctions of Peter, the Elchee's steward, and carelessly cast a box containing glass upon some loose stones, at the hazard of breaking its contents. Peter, who had been educated on board a man-of-war, and was a very stout fellow, irritated beyond bearing at this treatment of his pantry ware, seized Hajee by the waist, and before he had time to make an effort, cast him over the animal he had so rudely unloaded; and while the astonished mule-driver lay sprawling, and not yet knowing whether his bones were broken, Peter, calling his interpreter, a Persian servant, who had learned a little English at Bombay—"Tell that fellow," he said, in a voice which showed his rage was only half expended, "it is lucky for him that his bones are not so brittle as my glass, of which he will take better care another time."

Having witnessed this scene, I anticipated a complaint to the Elchee; but what was my surprise to learn, that Hajee Hâshem had petitioned to be exclusively attached, with his mules, to Peter's department! He was so; they continued always the best of friends; and no disappointment could be greater than that of the old Hajee, when he came to furnish cattle for the second mission, at finding his ally Peter was not of the party.

The ground of Hajee Hâshem's attachment to his friend may be deemed extraordinary; but had the master muleteer been a historian, he might have pleaded high authority in his own country, for valuing another for superiority in the rough qualities in which he himself excelled.

The emperor of Constantinople, Mahmood the Fifth, the great rival of Nadir Shâh, desiring to humble the vanity of that conqueror, and knowing he valued himself more on his superior bodily power and stentorian voice that on any other qualities selected, as an Envoy to Persia, a porter, of extraordinary personal strength and most powerful lungs.

The Envoy had merely charge of a letter, which he was told to deliver in person to the king, to require an answer, and return. The fame of this remarkable diplomatist preceded him; and Nadir was advised not to receive him, as his deputation was deemed an insult. But curiosity overcame all other considerations, and he was introduced one day that there was a very full court.

When the Turk approached the throne, Nadir, assuming his fiercest look, and exerting his voice to the utmost, said, "What do you desire of me?" Almost all started, and the hall vibrated to the sound; but the Envoy, with an undaunted air, and in a voice of thunder which made Nadir's appear like the treble of a child, exclaimed, "Take that letter, and give me an answer, that I may return to my master."

The court were in amazement; all eyes were turned on Nadir, whose frowning countenance gradually relaxed into a smile, and, turning to his courtiers, he said, "After all, the fellow certainly has merit." He was outdone, but he could not help, like Hajee Hâshem, respecting in another the qualities he valued in himself.

Nadir is stated to have retorted the intended insult, by saying to the Envoy, when he gave him leave to depart, "Tell Mahmood I am glad to find he has one man in his dominions, and has had the good sense to send him here, that we may be satisfied of the fact."

FOOTNOTES:

[17] The Hubara usually weighs from seven to eleven pounds. On its head is a tuft of black and white feathers; the back of the head and neck are spotted black; the side of the head and throat are white, as well as the under part of the body; the breast is slate-coloured; the feathers of the wing are greenish brown, speckled with black; the bill of a very dark grey; and on each side of the neck is a large and handsome tuft of feathers, black and white alternately.

[18] Faringee, which is a corruption of Frank is the name given to an European over all Asia.

[19] Paish Namaz.

CHAPTER VI.

Elchee's Lectures—Mehmandar's Journal—Arab Nurse—Blue-beard—Persian Ceremony—King's Picture.

The Elchee, from the moment we landed in Persia, has been lecturing us on the importance of the conduct of every individual, as connected with a just impression of the national character. "These Persians," said he to us one day, "have no knowledge beyond their country; they understand no language but their own and Arabic; and though all the better classes read, the books to which they have access afford them little if any information, except of Asia. Europe, in fact, is only known by name, and by general and confused accounts of the fame of its nations, and their comparative greatness. They are, however," he added, "a very keen and observing people, and full of curiosity. In the absence of books, they will peruse us, and from what they hear and see, form their opinion of our country. Let us take care, therefore, that nothing is found in the page but what is for the honour of England; and believe me that, with such a people, more depends upon personal impressions than treaties."

With these sentiments, every word and act was shaped by him, and, so far as he could command and influence them, by others, to raise the English character. It was not enough that we were to give an example of all kinds of good qualities, but we were to be active and capable of fatigue, to show the Persians we were soldiers. The Envoy or Elchee, as they called him, happened to have a robust form, and a passion for shooting and hunting. It was, therefore, nothing more than an amusement to him to ride fifty or sixty miles of a morning, that he might surpass his Mehmandar or entertainer in his own line, but it was far otherwise to many of his suite. I did not like it; and a near relation of his, who was rather weak, and, like me, of sedentary habits, used to inveigh bitterly against these "political rides," as he scoffingly termed them. There was, however, some sense in the Elchee's proceedings, as I discovered, when an intimacy with our old Mehmandar, Mahomed Sheriff Khan, a Burgashattee,[20] led to his showing me a journal he had written for the information of the court by whom he was deputed, in order to enable them to judge, by the aid of his observations, what kind of a person and nation they had to deal with. I shall transcribe the passage, which was literally as follows:—

"The Elchee and the English gentlemen with him, rise at dawn of day; they mount their horses and ride for two or three hours, when they come home and breakfast. From that time till four o'clock, when they dine, the Elchee is either looking at horses, conversing, reading, or writing; he never lies down, and, if he has nothing else to do, he walks backwards and forwards before his tent-door, or within it. He sits but a short time at dinner, mounts his horse again in the evening, and when returned from his ride, takes tea, after which he converses, or plays at cards till ten o'clock, when he retires to rest; and next day pursues nearly the same course.

"What I chiefly remark is, that neither he nor any of the gentlemen sleep during the day, nor do they ever, when the weather is warm, recline upon carpets as we do. They are certainly very restless persons; but when it is considered that these habits cause their employing so much more time every day in business, and in acquiring knowledge, than his Majesty's subjects, it is evident that at the end of a year they must have some advantage. I can understand, from what I see, better than I could before, how this extraordinary people conquered India. My office is very fatiguing, for the Elchee, though a good-natured man, has no love of quiet, and it is my duty to be delighted with all he does, and to attend him on all occasions."

This journal was written upon observations made before we left Abusheher. The poor old Mehmandar was compelled, soon after we marched, to slack in his constant attendance; for, as the Elchee's duty and inclination coincided, he was seldom satisfied with a stage of twenty or thirty miles, but usually went out in the evening of the same day to hunt, which, no doubt, made the desired impression, and led the Persians in his suite to think, if the English, in very sport, so harassed their friends, what would become of their enemies?

My friend, Mahomed Sheriff Khan, was, as appears from his journal, a keen observer. He had the reputation of being a good soldier; but his distinguishing feature was pride in his condition as the chief of a tribe, and as representing, in his person, a portion of the authority of the King of Kings! This pride, however, which often flamed forth in real or assumed rage, was much regulated in its action by a regard for his own interests. He was always civil to the Elchee, and those with him, but to all upon whom his office gave him claims his demeanour was haughty and overbearing, till soothed by concession or bribes. I met the Mehmandar one morning, with a man leading a beautiful Arab colt, to which he pointed, saying, "That old scoundrel, Shaikh Nasser (Governor of Abusheher), had very nearly deprived me of that animal." "What!" said I, "could he venture to take him from you?" "No," said he; "the horse was his; but he had concealed him so carefully that I was near going away without getting him. I heard of him before I left Shiraz, and have been on the search ever since I came to Abusheher. I have just found him, hidden in an inner room, covered with dirt: and then to hear how the old fool whined about this colt of his favourite Daghee,[21] as he called him. He meant him, he said, to mount his son, a puny wretch, who was standing by, entreating me to listen to his father's prayer, and not to take away their only favourite; to save which, they offered several useless animals and some money. But I laughed out loud," concluded Mahomed Sheriff Khan, stroking his grizzly beard, "and said, they knew little of an old wolf like me, if they thought I was to be moved by their bleating, or tricked by their cunning. 'Go,' said I to the old Shaikh, 'and build a boat for that hopeful heir of yours; it will befit him better than a horse like this, which is only suited for a son of mine to ride upon.'"

I soon afterwards saw old Shaikh Nasser moving slowly along, muttering his usual phrase, "There's no harm done:[22] Persian scoundrels, Arab fools, all will go to hell together! God is just!—Well, well, there's no harm done." I spoke to him—he took no notice, but went to his usual seat to superintend some carpenters, who were building a vessel which had been on the stocks about seventy years; there his smothered passion found vent in the most virulent abuse of all his tribe who approached him. When I spoke to him some time afterwards, he seemed in better humour. "This ship," said he, pointing to the ribs of the rude vessel, "will be finished some day or other, and she will hold us all: there is no harm done."

Mahomed Sheriff Khan used to laugh at his own habits, which he deemed less personal than belonging to his condition. One day, when riding through the streets, he observed me looking significantly at his Tûrkûman horse stretching his long neck to seize some greens, which a man was carrying in a basket on his head—"He has learnt it,"[23] said my friend, with a smile.

When I looked on the desert arid plains which lie between Abusheher and the mountains, and saw the ignorant, half-naked, swarthy men and women broiling under a burning sun, with hardly any food but dates, my bosom swelled with pity for their condition, and I felt the dignity of the human species degraded by their contented looks. "Surely," said I to Khojah Arratoon, an Armenian (known in the mission by the name of Blue-beard),[24] "these people cannot be so foolish as to be happy in this miserable and uninstructed state. They appear a lively, intelligent race—can they be insensible to their comparatively wretched condition? Do they not hear of other countries? have they no envy, no desire for improvement?" The good old Armenian smiled, and said, "No; they are a very happy race of people, and so far from envying the condition of others, they pity them. But," added he, seeing my surprise, "I will give you an anecdote which will explain the ground of this feeling.

"Some time since, an Arab woman, an inhabitant of Abusheher, went to England[25] with the children of a Mr. Beauman. She remained in your country four years. When she returned, all gathered round her to gratify their curiosity about England. 'What did you find there? is it a fine country? are the people rich? are they happy?' She answered, 'The country was like a garden; the people were rich, had fine clothes, fine houses, fine horses, fine carriages, and were said to be very wise and happy.' Her audience were filled with envy of the English, and a gloom spread over them, which showed discontent at their own condition. They were departing with this sentiment, when the woman happened to say, 'England certainly wants one thing.' 'What is that?' said the Arabs eagerly. 'There is not a single date tree in the whole country!' 'Are you sure?' was the general exclamation. 'Positive,' said the old nurse; 'I looked for nothing else all the time I was there, but I looked in vain.' This information produced an instantaneous change of feeling among the Arabs: it was pity, not envy, that now filled their breasts; and they went away, wondering how men could live in a country where there were no date trees!"

This anecdote was told me as I was jogging on the road, alongside my friend Blue-beard, on our first march from Abusheher. I rode the remainder of the way (ten good miles) without speaking a word, but pondering on the seeming contradiction between the wisdom of Providence and the wisdom of man. I even went so far as to doubt the soundness of many admirable speeches and some able pamphlets I had read, regarding the rapid diffusion of knowledge. I changed to a calculating mood, and began to think it was not quite honest, even admitting it was wise, to take away what men possessed, of content and happiness, until you could give them an equal or greater amount of the same articles.

Before leaving Abusheher we had received many proofs of the favour of the Prince Regent of Shiraz. Soon after our arrival at that place, a favourite officer of his guards brought a present of twelve mule loads of fruit. When this young man came to pay his respects to the Elchee, Khojah Arratoon desired to withdraw. When asked the reason: "Why," said he, "the person who is deputed by the Prince is a Georgian, the son of my next door neighbour in Teflis. When Aga Mahomed Khan plundered that city, in 1797, he was made a prisoner, with twenty or thirty thousand young persons of both sexes; and having since been compelled to become a Mahomedan, and now enjoying high rank, he may be embarrassed at seeing me." The Envoy said, "It does not signify; you are my Treasurer, and must be present at the visit of ceremony: depend upon it he will not notice you." It was as predicted; the bearer of the present, a very handsome young man, superbly dressed, and of finished manners, appeared to have no knowledge of Arratoon, though his eye rested on him once or twice. When the visit was over, the good Armenian could not contain himself: "The vile Mahomedan wretch!" he exclaimed, "he has lost sight and feeling, as well as religion and virtue. Have I given him sweetmeats so often, to be stared at as a stranger? I should like to know who was his father, that he should look down upon me. It will be a mournful tale," he concluded, "that I shall have to write to his mother, who is in great distress, and who, poor deluded creature! lives in hopes that there is still some good in this dog of a son of hers." There was a mixture of wounded pride, of disappointment, and humanity, in Blue-beard's sentiments, that made them at once amusing, and affecting.

He came, however, early next morning to the Envoy with a very different countenance, and evidently deeply affected. "What injustice have I not done," said he, "to that excellent young man! He sent a secret messenger to me last night; and when we met, ran to embrace me, and after telling me the short tale of his captivity, sufferings, and subsequent advancement, inquired in the most earnest manner after his mother. He has not only given a hundred tomans to relieve her immediate wants, but has settled that I am to be the Agent for future remittances. He informed me that he recognised the friend of his youth, and never had more difficulty than in the effort to appear a stranger; but he explained his reasons for being so cautious: he is not only a Mahomedan, but has married into a respectable family, and is a great favourite with the Prince, and must, therefore, avoid any conduct that could bring the least shade of suspicion on the sincerity of his faith or allegiance. I shall make his mother very happy," continued Blue-beard, who was evidently quite flattered by the personal attention of the young Georgian, and the confidence reposed in him; "for I will, when I send her the tomans, tell her my conviction, that her son, whatever he may profess, is a Christian in his heart. Indeed he must be so; for if he had been a true Mahomedan he would have acted like one, and have disowned, not supported, his mother, whom he must consider an infidel."

The Prince Regent of Fars, or Persia Proper, sent, soon after our arrival at Abusheher, a young nobleman of his own tribe, Hassan Khan Kajir, to attend the Elchee as Mehmandar. My intimacy, from old acquaintance, with Jaffier Khan, Governor of Abusheher, led to his showing me the letter he had received from his brother, the Prince's vizier, regarding the reception of this personage. It is so good a specimen of the minute attention the Persians give to forms that I translated it. Its contents were as follows:—

"My dear Brother,

"Hassan Khan Kajir, who is appointed Mehmandar to General Malcolm, is a nobleman of the first rank and family. He will keep you informed of his progress. When he arrives at Dalkhee[26] he will send on this letter, and write you on the subject of his waiting upon the General, the day he comes to camp. You will proceed to meet him, with all the garrison of Abusheher, as far as the date trees on the border of the desert. You will accompany him to General Malcolm's tent, and, when he leaves it, you will proceed with him to his own tent, which must be pitched as the General desires, on the right or left of his encampment. If Hassan Khan Kajir arrives in the morning, you will stay and breakfast with him; if in the evening, you will dine with him. Your future attention will be regulated by your politeness and good sense, and you will always consider him as a noble guest, who should be entertained in a manner suitable to his rank and the distinguished situation to which he is appointed, of Mehmandar to General Malcolm."

The Mehmandar wrote a letter with this, in which he explained to the Governor, as modestly as the subject would admit, his own expectations. The Governor was anxious to know how the Envoy would receive him; and when told that two officers would meet him at a short distance from the camp, and that the escort would be drawn up before the tent at which he alighted to salute him, his mind was at rest, as he was sure such attention would be gratifying to this sixteenth cousin of Majesty.

Hassan Khan made his appearance next day, and proved to be a fine young man, about twenty-six years of age, of excellent manners and handsome in person, with grey eyes, and a very pleasing expression of countenance. At this visit he was profuse in professions of the regard in which the King and Prince held the Elchee, both of whom, he said, were anxious for the advance of the Mission.

It is not only in attention to persons, deputed by kings and princes in Persia, that respect for royalty is shown; it extends to the reception of letters, dresses, and presents, and every inanimate thing with which their name is associated. The object is to impart to all ranks a reverence and awe for the sovereign and those to whom he delegates power. In short, no means are neglected that can keep alive, or impress more deeply, the duty of implicit obedience.

Some time before we landed at Abusheher, the Envoys of Scind had been at that port on their return from Teheran. They carried, among other presents to their Prince, a picture of his Majesty, Fatteh Ali Shâh. This painting was carefully packed in a deal box; but the inclosed image of royalty could not be allowed to pass through his dominions without receiving marks of respect hardly short of those that would have been shown to the sovereign himself.

The Governor and inhabitants of Abusheher went a stage to meet it: they all made their obeisance at a respectful distance. On its entering the gates of the city a royal salute was fired; and when the Envoys who had charge of it embarked, the same ceremonies were repeated, and not a little offence was taken at the British Resident because he declined taking a part in this mummery.

FOOTNOTES:

[20] Burgashattee is the name of a small Turkish tribe, of which this old nobleman was chief.

[21] A celebrated stud-horse of Shaikh Nasser.

[22] Aibee na dared, which is literally translated in the text, was a phrase used by this old chief on every occasion.

[23] Amookhta ast.

[24] The nick-name of Blue-beard was given by some of the young men of our party to our Treasurer, Khojah Arratoon, from that colour being one day predominant in the dye he had used to ornament his beard. This excellent man is now no more.

[25] This story has been told by Sir John Malcolm, in his history, in illustration of some of his facts or opinions; but he has taken this, and many other equally good things, from me, without ever acknowledging them; I shall, therefore, stand on no ceremony when it suits my purpose to reclaim my property.

[26] Fifty miles from Bushire.

CHAPTER VII.

Mountaineers—Valley of Kazeroon—Virtue of Nitric Acid—Rizâ Kooli Khan's loss of Eyes—Extraordinary Birds—Beautiful Valley of Dusht-e-Arjun—Mahomed Rizâ Khan Byat—Irish Patriotism—Persian Squire.

Nothing can be more striking than the change from the Gurmaseer, or hot region, as they term the arid track on the shores of the Persian Gulf, to the fine climate and rich soil of the elevated plains of the interior of that country. After travelling fifty-five miles, we reached the mountains. From the village of Dalkhee, famous for its date plantations and streams impregnated with naphtha, and which lies at the foot of the first range, we proceeded by narrow paths, which wound along the face of the rugged and steep mountain we were ascending. When near its summit, we were met by the Chiefs of the tribes and villages in the vicinity. These, with their principal adherents, on horseback, were drawn up on the crest of the mountain, while their other followers sprang from rock to rock, firing their matchlocks in honour of the strangers. Their ragged clothing, their robust forms, their rapid evolutions (which, though apparently in disorder, were all by signal), amid precipices, where it seemed dangerous to walk, the reports of their fire-arms, reverberating from the surrounding hills, gave an interest to these scenes which a fine writer might dwell on for pages, but I shall content myself with the fact, that we passed in security the two great ranges of mountains that intervene between the sea-shore and the valley of Kazeroon; on entering which, our eyes were not only cheered by rich fields, but also with wild myrtle, blackberry bushes, and willows. The latter, shadowing small but clear rivulets, gave me and others a feeling of home, which he who has not travelled in a far distant land can never understand. Those of our party who had not been in Persia before were quite delighted at the change of scene, and began to give us credit for the roses and nightingales which we promised them on its still happier plains. What they had seen of the inhabitants of the mountains we had passed inclined them to believe the marvellous tales we told of the tribe of Mama Sunee, who boast of having preserved their name and habits unaltered from the time of Alexander the Great.

We had good reason, when on the first Mission, to remember this tribe, who, in conformity to one of their most ancient usages, had plundered a part of our baggage that was unfortunately left without a guard in our rear. The loss would have been greater but for a curious incident. Among the camels left behind was one loaded with bottles containing nitric acid, which had been furnished in considerable quantities to us at Bombay. The able physician[27] who discovered its virtues was solicitous that its efficacy should have a fair trial in Persia; and it certainly proved a sovereign remedy in an extreme case, but one in which he had not anticipated its effects. The robbers, after plundering several camel loads, came to that with the nitric acid. They cast it from the back of the animal upon the ground. The bottles broke, and the smoke and smell of their contents so alarmed the ignorant and superstitious Mama Sunees, that they fled in dismay, fully satisfied that a pent-up genie of the Faringees had been let loose, and would take ample vengeance on them for their misdeeds. The truth of this was proved by the testimonies of the camel drivers, the subsequent confession of some of the thieves, and the circumstance of several of the loads which were near the nitric acid being untouched.

The city of Kazeroon is situated near the ancient Shapoor, with whose ruins antiquarians are delighted, and whose deserted fields were equally prized by our sportsmen, from their abounding with game.

I was myself much amused with a hunt of black partridges[28] at this place, on which we were accompanied by thirty or forty horsemen. They scattered themselves over a grassy plain, and the moment a partridge was flushed, the man nearest it gave a shout, while such as were in the direction in which it flew rode over the bird, which was hardly allowed to touch the ground before it was raised again, and hunted as before. Its flights became shorter; and after three or four, when quite exhausted, it was picked up by one of the horsemen, several of whom had little dogs called "scenters," to aid them in finding the partridge when it took shelter in the long grass or bushes. We caught about twenty brace of birds the first morning that I partook in this sport.

Rizâ Kooli Khan, the Governor of Kazeroon, came to pay the Elchee a visit. This old nobleman had a silk band over his eye-sockets, having had his eyes put out during the late contest between the Zend and Kajir families for the throne of Persia. He began, soon after he was seated, to relate his misfortunes, and the tears actually came to my eyes at the thoughts of the old man's sufferings; when judge of my surprise to find it was to entertain, not to distress us, he was giving the narration, and that, in spite of the revolting subject, I was compelled to smile at a tale, which in any country except Persia would have been deemed a subject for a tragedy: but as poisons may by use become aliment, so misfortunes, however dreadful, when they are of daily occurrence, appear like common events of life. But it was the manner and feelings of the narrator that, in this instance, gave the comic effect to the tragedy of which he was the hero.

"I had been too active a partisan," said Rizâ Kooli Khan, "of the Kajir family, to expect much mercy when I fell into the hands of the rascally tribe of Zend. I looked for death, and was rather surprised at the lenity which only condemned me to lose my eyes. A stout fellow of a ferash[29] came as executioner of the sentence; he had in his hand a large blunt knife, which he meant to make his instrument: I offered him twenty tomans if he would use a penknife I showed him. He refused in the most brutal manner, called me a merciless villain, asserting that I had slain his brother, and that he had solicited the present office to gratify his revenge, adding, his only regret was not being allowed to put me to death.

"Seeing," continued Rizâ Kooli, "that I had no tenderness to look for from this fellow, I pretended submission, and laid myself on my back; he seemed quite pleased, tucked up his sleeves, brandished his knife, and very composedly put one knee on my chest, and was proceeding to his butchering work, as if I had been a stupid innocent lamb, that was quite content to let him do what he chose. Observing him, from this impression, off his guard, I raised one of my feet, and planting it on the pit of his stomach, sent him heels over head in a way that would have made you laugh (imitating with his foot the action he described, and laughing heartily himself at the recollection of it). I sprung up; so did my enemy; we had a short tussle—but he was the stronger; and having knocked me down, succeeded in taking out my eyes.

"The pain at the moment," said the old Khan, "was lessened by the warmth occasioned by the struggle. The wounds soon healed; and when the Kajirs obtained the undisputed sovereignty of Persia, I was rewarded for my suffering in their cause. All my sons have been promoted, and I am Governor of this town and province. Here I am in affluence, and enjoying a repose to which men who can see are in this country perfect strangers. If there is a deficiency of revenue, or any real or alleged cause for which another Governor would be removed, beaten, or put to death, the king says, 'Never mind, it is poor blind Rizâ Kooli; let him alone:' so you observe, Elchee, that I have no reason to complain, being in fact better defended from misfortune by the loss of my two eyes, than I could be by the possession of twenty of the clearest in Persia:" and he laughed again at this second joke.

Meerzâ Aga Meer, the Persian secretary, when commenting upon Rizâ Kooli Khan's story, said that his grounds of consolation were substantial; for that a stronger contrast could not exist between his condition, as he had described it, and that of others who are employed as Revenue officers under the present administration of Fars. "I cannot better," said he, "illustrate this fact than by the witty and bold answer given a short time since by one of the nobles to the Prince Regent at Shiraz. The Prince asked of his advisers what punishment was great enough for a very heinous offender who was brought before him; 'Make him a Collector of Revenue,' said an old favourite nobleman; 'there can be no crime for which such an appointment will not soon bring a very sufficient punishment.'"

We had an amusing account of an adventure which had occurred at Kazeroon to two Gentlemen of the Mission, who had been sent some months before to Shiraz. One of these, a relation of the Elchee, I have before mentioned as particularly averse to what he deemed unnecessary fatigue of body. But he and his companion had their curiosity so much raised by the accounts they received of two strange creatures, that were said to be in a house at the distance of fifteen miles, that in spite of the severity of the weather (for it was winter), and the difficulties of the road, they determined to go and see them.

In answer to their inquiries, one man said, "These creatures are very like birds, for they have feathers and two legs; but then their head is bare and has a fleshy look, and one of them has a long black beard on its breast." But the chief point on which they dwelt was the singularity of their voice, which was altogether unlike that of any other bird they had ever heard of or seen. An old man, who had gone from Kazeroon to see them, declared it was a guttural sound very like Arabic, but confessed that though he had listened with great attention, he had not been able to make out one word they uttered.

When the party arrived, very fatigued, at the end of their journey, the inhabitants of the small village where the objects of curiosity were kept came out to meet them. Being conducted to the house where the birds were shut up, the door was opened, and out marched—a turkey-cock and hen! the former, rejoicing in his release from confinement, immediately commenced his Arabic. The Persians who came from Kazeroon were lost in astonishment, while our two friends looked at each other with that expression of countenance which indicates a doubt, between an inclination to laugh or to be angry; the former feeling however prevailed. Their merriment surprised the Persians, who, on being informed of its cause, seemed disappointed to hear that the birds which appeared so strange to them were very common both in India and England.

From the account given by the possessor of the turkeys, it appeared that they had been saved from the wreck of a vessel in the Gulf, and had gradually come to the part of the interior where they then were.

From Kazeroon to Dusht-e-Arjun is but a short distance, but the ascent is great; and pleased as we had been with Kazeroon, we found all nature with a different aspect in this small but delightful valley, which is encircled by mountains, down whose rugged sides a hundred rills contribute their waters to form the lake in its centre. The beauty of these streams, some of which fall in a succession of cascades from hills covered with vines; the lake itself, in whose clear bosom is reflected the image of the mountains by which it is overhung; the rich fields on its margin; and the roses, hyacinths, and almost every species of flower that grow in wild luxuriance on its borders, made us gaze with admiration on this charming scene; while the Persians, who enjoyed our looks and expressions of delight, kept exclaiming, "Iran hemeen ast!—Iran hemeen ast!" This is Persia!—This is Persia!

I was rejoiced on this day's march to meet my old friend Mahomed Rizâ Khan Byat, who had come from Shiraz to compliment the Elchee. He galloped up to me like a boy, calling out "You are welcome." I could hardly believe my eyes on finding him look younger and brisker than he did when I left him ten years before, at the age of sixty-eight, eating, every day, a quantity of opium that was enough, according to the calculation of our doctor, to poison thirty persons unaccustomed to that drug. My regard for the old gentleman had led to my taking no small pains to break him of a habit that I was persuaded would destroy him; and the doctor, from the same impression, was my zealous auxiliary. For him my friend inquired the moment he had welcomed me; when told he was in India, he replied, laughing, "I am sorry he is not here; I would show him that Christian doctors, though they can, according to our belief, through the aid and influence of their Messiah, work miracles, as he did, by curing the blind and the lame, are not all true prophets. He told me I should die if I did not diminish my allowance of opium; I have increased it four-fold since he in his wisdom predicted my demise, and here I am, near fourscore, as young and as active as any of them:" so saying, he pushed his horse to speed, and turning his body quite round, according to the habit of the ancient Parthians with the bow, and the modern Persians with the matchlock, fired a ball at a mark in the opposite direction to that in which he was galloping. Riding up to me, he first stroked his beard, which was too well dyed to discover a single white hair, and then taking out a box I had given him ten years before, opened it, and literally cast down his throat a handful of opium pills, repeating, "I wish my friend the doctor had been here!"

I rode along with Mahomed Rizâ the remainder of the march; and, according to his account, the condition of Persia was greatly improved. Indeed the internal peace it had enjoyed since the full establishment of the power of the late king Aga Mahomed Khan, must of itself have produced that effect; for Nature has been so bountiful to this country in climate, soil, and in every animal and vegetable production, that man, spoilt as he is by her indulgence, cannot, without great and continued efforts, destroy the blessings by which he is surrounded. I was more pleased at my friend dwelling with a calm and contented mind on this great change, from a knowledge of his history. His father, Sâlah Khan, was one of the chief Omrâhs, or Nobles, at the Court of Nadir Shâh when that conqueror was murdered. On that event Kings started up in every province. Sâlah Khan among others entered the lists. He seized upon Shiraz, the fortifications of which he extended and improved; but his enjoyment of a royal name was short; he was made prisoner, and put to death by Kerreem Khan. His son, whose character is marked by the absence of ambition, has passed through life with respect as the Chief of a tribe, but without enjoying, or perhaps desiring, any station of consequence. He is of a happy and contented frame of mind, and speaks of the latter part of his father's life as a brilliant but troubled dream of power, to which he was very fortunate not to succeed.

The Prince and great men of Shiraz, on our approaching that city, so loaded the Elchee with presents of ice-creams, sweetmeats, preserves, and delicious fruits, that all in camp, down to the keepers of the dogs, were busied in devouring these luxuries. A lion's share was always allotted to a party of the 17th dragoons, which forms part of the escort. I heard these fine fellows, who were all (with the exception of one man) from Ireland, discussing, as they were eating their ices, their preserves, their grapes, and nectarines, the merits of Persia. "It is a jewel of a country," says one. "It would be," said a second, "if there were more Christians in it." "I don't so much mind the Christians," observed his companion, "if I could see a bog now and then, instead of these eternal rocks and valleys, as they call them." "Fine though it be," concluded corporal Corragan, "I would not give a potatoe-garden in little Ireland for a dozen of it, and all that it contains to boot." This patriotic sentiment, which appeared to meet with general concurrence, closed the discussion.

The morning we left Dusht-e-Arjun, I rode a short way with an old reis or squire, who is a proprietor of a considerable part of the valley. "How happy you are," I said, "in possessing a tract so fertile, so beautiful, and with such rich verdure." The old man shook his head: "That verdure you so much admire," said he, "is our ruin; our valley is the best grazing land in Persia, and the consequence is, princes and nobles send their mules here to fatten; and while our fields of grain and our gardens are trampled by these animals, we have to endure the insolence, and often the oppression, of their servants; and these fellows in our country (I don't know what they are in yours) are always ten times worse than their masters."

FOOTNOTES:

[27] The late Dr. Helenus Scott.

[28] The Derraj, or black partridge, takes its name from its breast, which is of that colour; the rest of its body is very much variegated. Its throat and legs are red, as also the under parts of its tail; its head is black, arched with spotted brown and white feathers, and one spot of white below its eye. This beautiful bird is found in the higher latitudes of India and in Persia; it is very common on the banks of the Tigris.

[29] Ferash is a menial servant employed in a house to keep it clean and take care of the furniture. He also pitches tents, spreads carpets, &c. &c.

CHAPTER VIII.

Principal Characters of the Mission—Mahomed Hoosein Khan—Jaffier Ali Khan—Meerzâ Aga Meer—Mahomed Hoosein—Hajee Hoosein—Candidates for the Elchee's favour.

Before I proceed further on my journey, I must introduce my reader to some of the principal characters, Indian and Persian, with whom I associated. These were my companions every where; and I owed much of the information and amusement I derived on my visit to Persia to their remarks and communications. No persons could differ more from each other than my friends. This resulted, in part, from their dispositions, but more from the opposite scenes in which they had passed their lives. But a short account of them will best exhibit their respective characters.

The first, Mahomed Hoosein Khan, is a person who is attached to the mission, more as a companion to the Envoy, than in any specific employment. He is my particular friend, and is one of almost every party in which I mix; rides with me, talks nonsense with me, besides cutting jokes, writing epigrams, and telling stories; therefore I must give a short sketch of him, otherwise he will never be understood. Khan Sâhib, or "my Lord," is the name by which my friend is usually known, though he has a right, from his inheritance, to the higher title of Nabob. He is about five feet three inches high; his face, though plain, has an expression which marks quickness and intelligence, and the lively turn of his mind has its effect heightened from an impression of gravity, conveyed by a pair of large spectacles, which, being short-sighted, he always wears. His frame is not robust, and his whole appearance indicates the over-care that has been bestowed upon his childhood, and the enervating pleasures in which his youth, according to the usage of Mahomedans of quality, has been passed. He has, however, notwithstanding early habits of luxury, if not of dissipation, received an excellent education. He is a tolerable Arabic scholar, and has few superiors in Persian; he writes that language with the greatest elegance, and is no mean composer, either in prose or verse. Add to these qualifications a cheerful disposition, an excellent memory, with a ready wit, and you have my little friend.

The father of Khan Sâhib was a Persian, who went, in early life, to improve his fortunes in India. He succeeded in recommending himself to Mr. Duncan at Benares, and, after that gentleman became Governor of Bombay, he appointed his Persian friend Resident at Abusheher, and in 1798 sent him on a mission to the court of Persia. This preferment naturally excited ambitious views: and, among other means by which he sought to ennoble his family, was the marriage of his eldest son, my friend, to the daughter of an ex-Prince of the Zend family, who being in exile, and poor, was glad that his falling star (to use an Asiatic figure) should come in conjunction with one that he thought was in the ascendant. But the father died soon after he had grafted his son on this branch of a decayed tree of royalty, leaving the latter what he often laughingly calls "The sad inheritance of poverty and rank combined with a most dignified wife," who, if he is to be believed, not unfrequently reminds him of her high birth, and is rather wont to dwell upon her condescension in allying herself to him. "I could," he added, the other day, "have given her some reasons for that act of prudence, but it would only have made her worse, and God knows what her violence might have prompted, so I kept quiet."

Here Khan Sâhib betrayed his foible, which is certainly extreme prudence. He is in the habit of wearing yellow boots with high heels, loose red cloth trowsers, which are half displayed by a tunic tucked up, like that of the most valiant among the horsemen of Persia. His high lamb's-wool cap has, when he is equipped for a march, the true military pinch; two small pistols and a dagger are stuck in his girdle, and to a waistbelt is fastened a powder-flask and a bag of bullets; a large sabre hangs by an embroidered cross-belt, while a shorter sword, for close quarters, is fastened to his saddle; to the front of which is attached a pair of holsters that contain two large horse-pistols. In spite of all these indications of desperate courage, aided by an upright and imposing seat on horseback, and sufficient boldness in galloping to and fro on a smooth plain, there is some want of that forward valour which depends more upon itself than the arsenal of great and small arms it carries for its defence. My friend is quite sensible of this deficiency, and is at times very happy in his allusions to the fact, and can very wittily philosophise upon the causes.—Want of stamina—coddled infancy—indulged youth—fear of his father—and terror of his royal wife, form the principal items in the list. "But," he is wont to add, "if I have, from a combination of causes, lost that strength of nerve which constitutes brute courage, I trust I have a manly spirit, the result of reflection, which, on proper occasions, you will always see me exert."

This is, no doubt, the case; but I never happened to be present on any of these "proper occasions," and I was one of a party, where we were almost diverted from thinking of danger by his ludicrous behaviour at its approach.

The Elchee having particular business when we were lying in Abusheher Roads, had determined to land; though the sea was rough, and the waves ran very high on the bar at the mouth of the harbour. The Khan, who had recently been attached to the Mission, insisted on going, though advised not: he was very courageous till we came on the bar, where the waves that chased each other seemed at every moment as if they would overwhelm our little bark. To each of these, as they rose and pursued us with their foaming crests, Khan Sâhib addressed a rapid invocation—"Allah, Allah, Allah!" (God, God, God!) and the moment we were safe from its fury, he, in a still more hurried way, repeated his gratitude; "Shooker, shooker, shooker!" (thanks, thanks, thanks!) These invocations and thanksgivings were repeated with great volubility and wonderful earnestness; Allah, Allah, Allah! and Shooker, shooker, shooker! continued to sound in our ears for a quarter of an hour; when "Al hamd ulillah!" (praise be to God!) pronounced in a slow and composed tone, proclaimed we were in smooth water. I rallied my friend[30] on the little composure he showed on this occasion; but he defended himself stoutly, saying, he always prayed twice as much at sea as on shore. This I believe; but he is on shore even an indifferent observer of the rites of his religion, and is suspected by some of the orthodox of our party of being a Sooffee, or philosophical Deist, which seems to me a general name, that includes all, from the saint who raves about divine love, to the sinner who scoffs at the rites of the worship of his country.

The next personage is Jaffier Ali Khan, brother to the Nabob of Masulipatam. This Indian Mahomedan is a man high in rank though of limited income, and has been from boyhood an intimate friend of the Elchee. Having married into a Persian family, he now resides at Shiraz, where he has been for some time employed as an agent. Jaffier Ali is a tolerable English scholar, but writes that language with more facility than correctness. He was, in his earlier years, extravagant from love of dissipation, and is now imprudent from irresolution. He has acquired a good deal of knowledge, but wants firmness of judgment. The consequence is, that both in conducting his own affairs and those of others, he becomes the dupe of rogues, with whom such a character is sure always to be surrounded. Nevertheless, there is such a redeeming simplicity of manner, and such kindness of heart, about poor Jaffier Ali, that it is impossible for any one to keep up that indignation which his folly often produces. "My friend is not the honest man I thought him," said he one day to me, speaking of a fellow who had duped him; "I have been more foolish than I could have believed, but I will take care another time: yet," he added, with a sympathy for his own weakness, "it is very difficult to deal with these Persians, they are so pleasing in their speech and manner, and most of all when they have cheating intentions."

Mahomed Hoosein, who is also an Indian, has served the Elchee as Moonshee, or instructor in the Persian language, since the latter was an ensign of eighteen, and has gradually risen with his master, whose confidence he enjoys and merits. He is a modest man, speaks little, but always to the purpose. It is not the habit of the Elchee to bring any man in his station prominently forward, and this practice appears exactly to suit the character of the Moonshee, which it has perhaps formed. He never goes to the Elchee but when he is sent for, and never stays when not wanted; is pleased with any mark of flattering attention, but never appears, like others, to make that his object. With this happy temper, and an honesty that has stood the test of great temptation for more than twenty years, he passes a comparatively still life, amidst all the bustle with which he is surrounded. When not busy writing letters he is employed reading some Persian book, chiefly works on the theological disputes between the Soonees and the Sheas. He holds the tenets of the former; and, with all due reverence to Ali, the nephew and son-in-law of the Prophet, he thinks, with the Turks and Arabs, that Abubeker, Omar, and Osman, were true men and good Caliphs, and not as the Persians, in their enthusiasm for Ali, term them, base caitiffs and vile usurpers. The Moonshee said to me one day, when I was joking him on his studies, "I do not want to dispute with these red-headed[31] doctors, but I must fortify myself in my own belief;" and he added, in a low tone of voice, "How can the faith of men be right, whose practice is so wrong? Did you ever see or hear such a set of swaggerers and story-tellers? I rejoice my master has seen so much of them; he will think better than he has ever yet done of us poor Indians."

The next person with whom I must make my readers acquainted is Meerzâ Aga Meer; he is a Syed, that is one of the tribe of Mahomed, and enjoys great respect among his countrymen, from being a lineal descendant of a holy man, the Ameer Hemza, whose tomb is at Shiraz, and is esteemed one of the most sacred shrines of that city. Aga Meer is a fine penman, and an uncommonly good writer of letters, which is his occupation. He is of mild and unassuming manners, slow in word and action; his even temper and good sense appear always directed to the object of keeping himself clear of all taint from the scene of cupidity and intrigue in which all around him are engaged. The very opposite of the generality of his countrymen, he endeavours to shun all employment not in his own line; and, though a great favourite with the Elchee, he takes nothing on himself, and will, indeed, do nothing without a specific order. Aga Meer is sometimes ashamed of his countrymen; but he is usually satisfied with showing his feeling by a shrug of his shoulders, and sometimes by averting his head, and is evidently disinclined to inform against or condemn them, when he can avoid such a course without a breach of duty; but whenever duty is in question, this good and honest man is firm and temperate in its fulfilment.

I have before mentioned Khojah Arratoon, the Armenian treasurer. This sensible and honest man has the characteristic reserve of his tribe, who, from living in a country where they are subject to oppression, become, from early habit, most guarded in their words and actions. This good man is fond of a joke, but he whispers it to you as if it was a state secret. We call him, as I have stated, Blue-beard, from the circumstance of this dye being one day predominant in the colour he had given to this ornament of his face, of the size and form of which he is, and not without reason, proud. He told me his vanity was once not a little flattered by the abuse of a Persian, who after exhausting all other topics, concluded by saying, "And then what business has a dog of an unbeliever like you with such a beard?"

The most prominent among the lower servants is old Hajee Hoosein, the head of the personal attendants; he assumes a superiority over his fellow-servants on the ground of his having visited foreign countries; and he boasts that from every one of them he has brought away some advantage or attainment. He has added to a taste for poetry and the marvellous (which he tells me was born with him in Persia) a love of antiquities, acquired at Bagdad—a knowledge of Arab horses, picked up at Bussorah—skill in traffic in small wares, learnt at Muscat—some theology, and the holy and useful name of Hajee or Pilgrim, gained by a visit to the Prophet's Tomb at Mecca; and a small but profitable acquaintance with the machinery of clocks and watches, obtained by a short apprenticeship with an eminent horologist at Calcutta. This travelled and very accomplished person, though he condescends to hand the Elchee his Kellian, and to distribute coffee to visitors, is in great request throughout our camp, and with none more than me; and I am rather flattered by the partiality he shows for my society, owing, I suspect, to my having early declared my admiration of his various talents, and in particular of his skill as a watchmaker, on his having succeeded in making an old watch of mine, that had stopped for a twelvemonth, go for nearly one whole day.

The above personages are our principal characters; minor gentlemen will speak for themselves when they come upon the stage.

Besides these attached to our camp, we have numbers who, from frequent visits and dealings, are almost considered as belonging to it. But our mode of proceeding is now understood, and the Elchee is not compelled, as he was on his first mission, to guard against attempts of individuals to establish an exclusive influence. Two of these, made by very opposite characters, deserve to be recorded.

The first was a specious young man of some ability, whose name was Hajee Abd-ool-Hameed, who came from Shiraz with a complimentary letter from the minister, Cherâgh Ali Khan, to whom he had promised to discover the real object of the mission, while to others he had professed his intention of making himself the sole medium of communication and intercourse between the English Representative and the Persian government.

He pursued his design with some address; but the Elchee seeing him linger at Abusheher, and very assiduous in his court, suspected his motives, and one day plainly asked him whether he had any further business, or entertained any expectations of employment? Though at first disconcerted by these direct queries, he confessed he had no business except that of recommending himself; and he then represented how impossible it would be to carry on any concerns in Persia without a qualified native as an agent, stating at the same time that he himself was exactly the man required.

The Elchee thanked him for his kind intentions, but informed him that such assistance was not at that moment necessary. If ever it was, he assured Abd-ool-Hameed his disinterestedness in coming so far to afford it, should not be forgotten. The manner more than the substance of this observation was death to the cherished hopes of the Persian expectant. Two days afterwards he left the camp and returned to Shiraz, where he became actively hostile to the mission, considering himself, by a selfish but common perversion of human reasoning, not merely slighted, but robbed of all the benefits he had anticipated.

The rejection of this gentleman's services no doubt prevented many speculators for favour making the efforts they might have intended. But we learned from Shiraz, that Aga Ibrahim, a native of Cazveen, who had been long settled as a merchant at Shiraz, and was a candidate for the contract for making up tents and other articles wanted for our outfit, ridiculed Abd-ool-Hameed and his plan, and boasted that he would show them all the way to win a Faringee Elchee.

The intelligence of his intentions, which was written by the Moonshee, Mahomed Hoosein, who had been sent in advance with letters to the Prince Regent of Fars and the King, made us anxious to see this formidable personage. When we were a stage from Dusht-e-Arjun, he made his appearance. He seemed a merry open-hearted fellow, and, according to his own communications, fond of the good things of this world. He was not over-scrupulous, he said, as to a glass or two of good liquor, and he boasted of having been a boon companion to the King, when his Majesty was Prince Regent at Shiraz, before dread of his uncle, Aga Mahomed and the Moollâhs, made him publicly renounce his wicked ways, and march round the city to break all the vessels which contained wine, in order that young and old should be aware of the sincere repentance of the Heir Apparent of the throne of Persia.

"I had no uncle with a crown on his head," said Aga Ibrahim. "I care nothing for priests, and have never yet felt the slightest disposition to alter my ways, except when the liquor was bad; but I take care," said he, with a significant nod to the Elchee, "to have it always of the best."

This conversation occurred during the day. In the evening, Aga Ibrahim desired a private interview with the Elchee; and after being some time with him, he returned to our party evidently disappointed. We soon discovered the reason: he had caused two loaded camels to be taken to the Elchee's tent by a back road, and, after a short preamble, had begged he would accept of both, with their burdens, as a "paish-kesh, or first-offering." One of the camels was loaded with Russian brandy, and the panniers which the other carried were (according to his report) two young and beautiful female Georgian slaves! The liquor and the ladies had both been politely declined, with many thanks for his intended kindness.

Our friend, Aga Ibrahim, was a very different character from Abd-ool-Hameed. A few glasses of wine which we gave him restored his spirits. "My plan was a good one," he said, "and would, I thought, have won the heart of any Faringee. This Elchee must have some deep designs on Persia, or he could never have resisted such temptations."

Aga Ibrahim had been a great trafficker in the slaves, male and female, which the army of Aga Mahomed brought from Georgia in his irruption into that country in 1797. He had retained one in his own family, of whom he appeared dotingly fond. The more wine he took, the more he spoke of his favourite Mariamne. "I have often," said he, "offered to marry her, if she would only become a Mahomedan, but all in vain; and really, when she is on her knees praying before her cross, or chanting hymns to the Virgin Mary, she looks so beautiful, and sings so sweetly, that I have twenty times been tempted to turn Christian myself. Besides, I can hardly think of Paradise as delightful without Mariamne!"

Our jolly good-natured friend went back to Shiraz next day with his camels, neither out of humour with us nor himself. He had failed, it was true; but he remained satisfied that it was some mysterious cause, against which human wisdom could not provide, that had defeated his excellent scheme for gaining the heart of a Faringee Elchee.

Aga Ibrahim was consoled for his first disappointment by having a good share of the employment he desired; and, in all his dealings, he was found as honest as other Persian merchants.

FOOTNOTES:

[30] It is with great regret I state that the witty and accomplished Khan Sâhib, like many others mentioned in these pages, has paid the debt of nature. He continued in India as in Persia to accompany his friend the Elchee till 1821, when he fell a victim to the cholera.

[31] Kezzelbash, or red-headed, is the appellation by which the Persians are known over Asia. It is said to have arisen from their wearing red cloth tops to their black lambs'-wool caps.

CHAPTER IX.

Importance of Forms—Description of those used at Visits in Persia—Difficulties on this subject—Happy termination of a Battle of Ceremonies between the first Mission and the petty Court of Shiraz—Persian Society—Fables and Apologues.

When we arrived at the garden of Shâh Cherâgh, within a few miles of the city of Shiraz, a halt was ordered for the purpose of settling the forms of our reception. These were easily arranged, as the Elchee, though his military rank, from the period of his first mission to the present, had advanced from that of Captain to General, claimed only the same respect and attention he had before insisted upon as the representative of a great and powerful government.

Ceremonies and forms have, and merit, consideration in all countries, but particularly among Asiatic nations. With these the intercourse of private as well as public life is much regulated by their observance. From the spirit and decision of a public Envoy upon such points, the Persians very generally form their opinion of the character of the country he represents. This fact I had read in books, and all I saw convinced me of its truth. Fortunately the Elchee had resided at some of the principal courts of India, whose usages are very similar. He was, therefore, deeply versed in that important science denominated "Kâida-e-nishest-oo-berkhâst" (or the art of sitting and rising), in which is included a knowledge of the forms and manners of good society, and particularly those of Asiatic kings and their courts.

He was quite aware, on his first arrival in Persia, of the consequence of every step he took on such delicate points; he was, therefore, anxious to fight all his battles regarding ceremonies before he came near the footstool of royalty. We were consequently plagued, from the moment we landed at Abusheher, till we reached Shiraz, with daily, almost hourly drilling, that we might be perfect in our demeanour at all places, and under all circumstances. We were carefully instructed where to ride in a procession, where to stand or sit within-doors, when to rise from our seats, how far to advance to meet a visitor, and to what part of the tent or house we were to follow him when he departed, if he was of sufficient rank to make us stir a step.

The regulations of our risings and standings, and movings and reseatings, were, however, of comparatively less importance than the time and manner of smoking our Kelliâns and taking our coffee. It is quite astonishing how much depends upon coffee and tobacco in Persia. Men are gratified or offended, according to the mode in which these favourite refreshments are offered. You welcome a visitor, or send him off, by the way in which you call for a pipe or a cup of coffee. Then you mark, in the most minute manner, every shade of attention and consideration, by the mode in which he is treated. If he be above you, you present these refreshments yourself, and do not partake till commanded: if equal, you exchange pipes, and present him with coffee, taking the next cup yourself: if a little below you, and you wish to pay him attention, you leave him to smoke his own pipe, but the servant gives him, according to your condescending nod, the first cup of coffee: if much inferior, you keep your distance and maintain your rank, by taking the first cup of coffee yourself, and then directing the servant, by a wave of the hand, to help the guest.

When a visitor arrives, the coffee and pipe are called for to welcome him; a second call for these articles announces that he may depart; but this part of the ceremony varies according to the relative rank or intimacy of the parties.

These matters may appear light to those with whom observances of this character are habits, not rules; but in this country they are of primary consideration, a man's importance with himself and with others depending on them.

From the hour the first mission reached Persia, servants, merchants, governors of towns, chiefs, and high public officers, presuming upon our ignorance, made constant attempts to trespass upon our dignity, and though repelled at all points, they continued their efforts, till a battle royal at Shiraz put the question to rest, by establishing our reputation, as to a just sense of our own pretensions, upon a basis which was never afterwards shaken. But this memorable event merits a particular description.

The first mission arrived at Shiraz on the 13th of June, 1800. The King of Persia was at this time in Khorassan, and the province of Fars, of which Shiraz is the capital, was nominally ruled by one of his sons, called Hoosein Ali Meerzâ, a boy of twelve years of age. He was under the tuition of his mother, a clever woman, and a Minister called Cherâgh Ali Khan. With the latter redoubtable personage there had been many fights upon minor ceremonies, but all were merged in a consideration of those forms which were to be observed on our visit to the young Prince.

According to Persian usage, Hoosein Ali Meerzâ was seated on a Nemmed, or thick felt, which was laid on the carpet, and went half across the upper end of the room in which he received the Mission. Two slips of felt, lower by two or three inches than that of the Prince, extended down each side of the apartment. On one of these sat the Ministers and Nobles of the petty Court, while the other was allotted to the Elchee and Suite; but according to a written "Destoor-ool-Amal," (or program) to which a plan of the apartment was annexed, the Elchee was not only to sit at the top of our slip, but his right thigh was to rest on the Prince's Nemmed.

The Elchee, on entering this apartment, saluted the Prince, and then walked up to his appointed seat; but the master of the ceremonies[32] pointed to one lower, and on seeing the Elchee took no notice of his signal, he interposed his person between him and the place stated in the program. Here he kept his position, fixed as a statue, and in his turn paid no attention to the Elchee, who waved his hand for him to go on one side. This was the crisis of the battle. The Elchee looked to the Minister; but he stood mute, with his hands crossed before his body, looking down on the carpet. The young Prince, who had hitherto been as silent and dignified as the others, now requested the Elchee to be seated; which the latter, making a low bow to him, and looking with no slight indignation at the Minister, complied with. Coffee and pipes were handed round; but as soon as that ceremony was over, and before the second course of refreshments were called for, the Elchee requested the Prince to give him leave to depart; and, without waiting a reply, arose and retired.

The Minister seeing matters were wrong, and being repulsed in an advance he made to an explanation, sent Mahomed Shereef Khan, the Mehmandar, to speak to the Elchee; but he was told to return, and tell Cherâgh Ali Khan "That the British Representative would not wait at Shiraz to receive a second insult. Say to him," he added, "that regard for the King, who is absent from his dominions, prevented my showing disrespect to his son, who is a mere child; I therefore seated myself for a moment; but I have no such consideration for his Minister, who has shown himself alike ignorant of what is due to the honour of his sovereign and his country, by breaking his agreement with a foreign Envoy."

The Elchee mounted his horse, after delivering this message, which he did in a loud and indignant tone, and rode away apparently in a great rage. It was amusing to see the confusion to which his strong sense of the indignity put upon him threw those, who a moment before were pluming themselves on the clever manner by which they had compelled him to seat himself fully two feet lower on the carpet than he had bargained for. Meerzâs and Omrâhs came galloping one after another, praying different persons of his suite to try and pacify him. The latter shook their heads; but those who solicited them appeared to indulge hopes, till they heard the orders given for the immediate movement of the English camp. All was then dismay; message after message was brought deprecating the Elchee's wrath. He was accused of giving too much importance to a trifle; it was a mistake of my lord of the ceremonies; would his disgrace—his punishment—the bastinado—putting his eyes out—cutting off his head, satisfy or gratify the offended Elchee?—To all such evasions and propositions the Envoy returned but one answer:—"Let Cherâgh Ali Khan write an acknowledgment that he has broken his agreement, and that he entreats my forgiveness: if such a paper is brought me, I remain; if not, I march from Shiraz."

Every effort was tried in vain to alter this resolution, and the Minister, seeing no escape, at last gave way, and sent the required apology, adding, if ever it reached his Majesty's ear that the Elchee was offended, no punishment would be deemed too severe for those who had ruffled his Excellency's temper or hurt his feelings.