Chapter XII · JOURNEY IN THE DESERT OF THE TOORKMUNS. (continued 2)

Approach to Meshid.

Our arrival in Persia afforded the greatest source of joy to many of the persons in the caravan, who, though natives of Bokhara, were yet Shiahs. I thought that when we quitted that holy city, we should have done with such sanctified spots; but the capital which we were now approaching, Meshid i Mookuddus, the sacred Meshid, appeared, by every account, to be even more holy than Bokhara. When we should behold its gilded dome, I now heard that every one would fall down and pray. The Persians here began to speak boldly of their creed, which they had so long concealed; and the spirit of the place might now be discovered by the tale of a person in the caravan, who was by no means illiterate. A merchant, who had lately travelled to Meshid, overloaded one of his camels, which fled, immediately on its reaching the city, to the shrine of the holy Imam Ruza, and lowed out its complaints. The animal was received, I presume, into the list of the faithful, since the priests of the shrine added him to their flock, adorned him with housings and bells, and gave him precedence of all other camels. The merchant confessed his cruelty, sued for forgiveness, and was pardoned at the sacrifice of his camel. To these and such tales an European must always listen and wonder; for though we have asserted, on the authority of the Koran itself, that the creed of the Mahommedan is not supported by miracles, its votaries admit no such doctrine; and enumerate the hundred thousand deviations from the laws of nature, which have happened for the benefit of the Mahommedan church. I had ventured among the Uzbeks to speak of the Koran and its contents, which I admitted I had read in translation. “Fool that you are,” was the reply; “how is it possible to transfer that holy book to another language, when every letter of every word has a distinct and individual meaning, that is only to be comprehended in the original?” I never afterwards paraded my biblical research; for while I found my knowledge of their Koran arraigned, I also heard, for the first time, that the Old and New Testament were nowhere to be found but as an incorporation with the Koran, since the copies of both Jews and Christians were vitiated forgeries! The arts of the priests of Islam bring to our remembrance the similar impositions of the Catholic church in by-gone ages. In Europe, however, the churchmen did really understand the learned language of the scriptures; but, among the Mahommedans, there are Moollahs who can only read, while they do not understand their version. There are of course many scholars, but there are distinct classes who do and do not understand; nor do they hesitate to speak of their learning or their ignorance, since the reading of the Koran is a sublime occupation, that covers the worst of sins.

Tarantulla.

We could not yet consider ourselves within the protection even of the holy Meshid, which was thirty-eight miles from Moozderan; we therefore moved at nightfall. In the bustle of departure I killed a huge reptile of a “tarantulla,” or an enormous spider, crawling on my carpet. Its claws looked like those of a scorpion, or small lobster, but the body was that of a spider. I was assured of its poisonous nature, and the natives insisted that it squirted its venom instead of stinging. We were soon on the wing, and wound our way up the valley of the Tejend, which was now a beautiful brook. Adventure. We commenced our journey in terror, and ere long met with an adventure that increased the rapidity of our march. About midnight the braying of a donkey intimated to some palpitating hearts that we were in the neighbourhood of human beings, where none should exist. The shout of “Allaman, Allaman!” spread like lightning; and the caravan, in a moment, assumed the appearance of a regiment in open column, closing up in double march to form a square. The foremost camels squatted instantly, and the others formed behind them. Matches were lit on every side, swords were drawn, pistols loaded, and the unhappy merchants capered in front of their goods, half mad with fear and fury. The unarmed portion of the caravan took post among the camels, which really formed a tolerable square, increased as they were to the number of one hundred and twenty. The anxiety was intense, it was general; the slaves were more terrified than the rest, for they well knew the fate of capture by the Toorkmuns. After about a quarter of an hour’s detention, one of the party discovered that the Allamans, of whom we were standing in such awe, were a party of twenty poor wandering Eimauks, who had been gathering die (boozghoom) on the hills. They were more terrified than us, for their number made their fate inevitable had we been Toorkmuns. Immediately the mistake was discovered, a shout of delight raised the camels, and the caravan moved on at double its usual speed, with seven or eight camels abreast; nor did it stop at the prescribed halting-ground, but pushed on some eight or ten miles farther when the day dawned. No sooner had we finished a scanty meal than it was again in motion, and a little after mid-day we reached Ghoozkan, the first inhabited village in Persia, and about fourteen miles from Meshid.

Ghoozkan slaves.

We halted a few hours at Ghoozkan, and had an opportunity of observing the supreme joy of the poor slaves, who had now reached their native land in safety. Many of the merchants gave them clothes and money to assist in their journey homewards, and it was with pleasure that we joined in the charitable feelings of the caravan. A few ducats purchased much happiness. Ghoozkan is peopled by Teimurees, a tribe of Eimaks, and has a population of about a thousand souls. They were a miserable looking set of beings, who used bandages as stockings, and covered their heads with brown sheep-skin caps. The whole of the inhabitants turned out to see us pass, and many of the poor creatures asked, in melancholy strains, of the different passengers, if we did not bring letters from their captive friends in Toorkistan. Troubled country. The Toorkmuns seldom spare Ghoozkan in their forays; and the last party had carried off six of their children, and put four of their peasants to death. One wonders that human beings would consent to live in such a spot. The circle of the villages around Meshid gets more circumscribed yearly, and in the one which we first entered every field had its tower, built by the cultivator, as a defence to which he might fly on seeing the approach of a Toorkmun. What a state of society, that requires the ploughshare and the sword in the same field! We loaded the camels after a watch of night, and set out for Meshid, the gates of which we reached long before the sun had risen, not more to our own joy than that of the poor Persian slaves, who had performed every step of the journey with a palpitating breast.

CHAP. XIV. KHORASAN.

Arrival in Meshid.

At dawn, on the morning of the 14th of September, we found our caravan waiting, in anxious expectation, under the walls of Meshid. At sunrise the keys of the gate were brought, which was at once thrown open to us. A new scene burst upon our view, with a rapidity which one only sees in theatrical representation. We had left a desert and the wandering Toorkmuns, and now advanced, in stately order, through a crowded city, arresting the notice of all the inhabitants. We had exchanged the broad face and broader turbans of the Toork and Tartar for the slim and long-faced Kuzzilbash, with a fur cap on his head, and his ringlets curling up behind, who now stood idly looking at us, with his hands in his pockets. The street which we entered was spacious and handsome; an aqueduct passed through it, and its banks were shaded by trees, while the splendid cupola and gilded minarets of the shrine of Imam Ruza terminated the perspective. A hundred and twenty camels passed up this avenue, and entered the spacious caravansarai of the Uzbeks. We followed in course, and seated ourselves on the balcony of the building, that we might the better observe the busy scene of the area beneath us. The inundation had, however, filled this extensive caravansarai, and we were necessitated to seek for an abode in a humbler place, which we found hard by.

The Prince Royal of Persia, Abbas Meerza, was now in the neighbourhood of Meshid; and though this country had been visited by few Europeans, we knew that there were British officers in his Royal Highness’s service. I lost no time, therefore, in despatching an express to the camp, which was about a hundred miles distant: but we were agreeably surprised to receive a polite message from Mrs. Shee, the lady of Captain Shee, who was then in Meshid; and it was equally pleasing to have it conveyed by a messenger who spoke our own language, one of the serjeants of the Prince’s army. During our stay in Meshid, we found ourselves more comfortable than since we had left India, and experienced many acts of civility and attention. We gladly changed the barbarous custom of eating with our hands; and, though our fair hostess was a Georgian, who only spoke Persian, we fancied ourselves once more among the society of our country.

Interview with Khoosrou Meerza.

I was soon astir to see the city of Meshid; and first visited the ark, or citadel, where I was suddenly surprised by the presence of Khoosrou Meerza, the son of the Prince, and the young man who had been deputed to St. Petersburg on the massacre of the Russian ambassador, now the acting governor of Meshid, while his father kept the field. He appeared to have profited by his journey to Europe, and conversed with me for an hour, asking much about our travels, and then jested on my beard and dress, which he assured me would be a great curiosity in my native land. He enquired whether I was a Catholic or a Protestant; and recurred with wonder to our having reached Persia in safety. He begged I would visit him on the following day, which I did not fail to do, being favourably impressed with this the first specimen of the royal house. I found the Prince next morning transacting business in the ark; and the ceremonial of approaching this scion of royalty was as formal as if he had been sovereign of the land. He is a most talkative person, and gave me an account of his journey to Russia, speaking with the highest encomiums of the education and polished manners of the ladies in that country. One of his suite, who appeared to be a privileged person, said, that his Highness could never be excused for having returned to Persia without one of these angels. The Prince declared that it was impossible, and referred it to me, who was in duty bound to tell him, that a person of his rank might have married the most illustrious. Khoosrou Meerza appeared to be about twenty-three years of age. He has had, of course, great advantages over other Persians; but I liked his capacity and his remarks. He asked me if the ancient art of staining glass had been revived; if our progress in sculpture was yet thought to rival Greece; and if the unicorn had been found in any quarter of the world. He then enquired whether it was most difficult to introduce discipline among irregular troops, or a new system of laws and government in a country. “With Europeans,” he said, “every thing is based on history and experience; but in Persia there are no such guides. Persia, which held a supremacy before the age of Mahommed, has now sunk into a state of torpor and bigotry, and has no literature but the Koran. In Europe, there are those who study the Bible, as well as those who are devoted to science: but,” added he, “there is very little religion in Russia among the higher ranks with whom I associated.” I must confess that I was pleased to hear the youth talk so learnedly, since a knowledge of one’s ignorance is the first step to improvement.

Description of Meshid.

I lost no time in visiting the city of Meshid; but I need not present a diffuse or long account of it, since I find that there is both a minute and correct one in Mr. Fraser’s admirable work on Khorasan.[6] The holy city of Meshid surrounds the tomb of the Imam Ruza, the fifth in descent from Ali, and three streets branch out in different directions from the shrine. Two of them are wide and spacious, shaded by trees, and enlivened by running water. A chain, drawn across the streets, within a hundred yards of the shrine, encloses its bazar and the riches of Meshid, and keeps out cattle and animals from the sanctified spot. Here the hive has swarmed, for all other parts of Meshid are in ruins, though its walls enclose a circuit of about seven miles. I cannot rate its population at forty thousand souls. The greater portion of the enclosed space is devoted to the use of a cemetery, since it is believed that the dead may rest in peace near an Imam. There are also shady gardens to please the living. The inhabitants of Meshid seem to delight in burrowing in the ground; all the houses are entered by a descent; and it is said, that the earth so scooped out has been applied to the repairs and building of the house. The town is well supplied with water from aqueducts and spacious cisterns. The natives of Toorkistan will tell you, that the Imam Ruza removed to Meshid on account of the wickedness of the people and the necessity for his presence. The Uzbeks have a couplet, which states, “that if Meshid had not its cerulean dome, it would be the common sewer of the world.”[7] The Persians, on the other hand, describe it, in poetical language, as “the most enlightened spot on the face of the earth, for there are the rays of the Creator of the world.”[8] Who will judge between the parties? At Bokhara, a Shiah is a Soonee; at Meshid, a Soonee wishes to be thought a Shiah.

Shrine of Imam Ruza.

I paid an early visit to his holy shrine; for I experienced in my peregrinations through Meshid none of the bigotry or jealousy which seem so constantly to have beset Mr. Fraser. About the centre of the city the sepulchre rests under a gilded dome, which is rivalled by twin minarets of burnished gold, that shed resplendent light in the rays of the sun. A spacious mosque of azure blue rears a loftier dome and minarets close to the tomb, and was built by Gohur Shah, a descendant of the illustrious Timour. The pilgrim who visits this shrine must first travel the bazar and cross the chain, when he enters a sanctuary, which no crime admits of being violated. He then proceeds under a lofty archway, and finds himself within a spacious quadrangle, the work of the great Abbas, which is a resting-place for the living and the dead. It is surrounded by small apartments, like a caravansary, which is a “madrissu,” or college, and the pavement is formed of tombstones, that cover the remains of those whose devotion and wishes have led to their being here interred. The arches and sides of the area are ornamented with a painted tile, not unlike enamel, which has a chaste and rich appearance. On the western side of the square lies the entrance to the shrine, which leads under a lofty Gothic arch, of the richest gilding. It is further adorned by mirrors let into the wall, and illuminated after sunset by tapers suspended from the roof. Beyond this threshold an infidel may not pass but in disguise, and my judgment conquered my curiosity. I might have escaped in the crowd; but I might have been discovered, though I learn that the beauties of the place deserve a risk. The richness increases the fervency of the pilgrim’s devotion, who enters it by a gate of silver; and the tomb is said to be shielded from the touch of the profane by railings of steel and brass, on which plates of silver and wood, with blessings and prayers carved upon them, are suspended. Innumerable lamps of gold hang over the grave, which are lit upon the “eed” and the holidays of the saints, to honour the festival and enable the priests to display with advantage the riches and jewels that pious individuals have consecrated at this shrine. On the side opposite the entrance is the beautiful mosque of Gohur Shah; and here I walked without timidity. It is a fine specimen of architecture, and the arch, in which the “mihrab,” or niche towards Mecca, is placed, is superbly adorned and most chastely executed. It is beautified by lofty blue minarets on either side, which rise in rich effect and grandeur.

Grave of Nadir Shah.

Meshid has no buildings but its shrine. There are some colleges and a spacious and unfinished caravansary, with twenty-one others in different parts of the city; but still it is the burial-place of the great Nadir Shah. His grave, now dishonoured and marked by the ruins of the edifice that once sheltered it from the elements, is one of the most interesting sights to a traveller. What a field for rumination in such a spot! The fountains and flowers which encircled it have disappeared; the peach-tree, which put forth its blossom on the returning spring, has fallen under the axe, and the willows and cypresses have been torn down. In their place a crop of turnips had been sown by some industrious citizen. Shade of Nadir, what a change is here! he who shook the kingdoms of the East, has been denied in death the small quadrangle of a garden, which the affection of sons had hallowed to the merit of a parent. This is the reward of him who delivered his country from a foreign usurper, and who studied his country’s good: but the well-being of a state does not necessarily comprehend the well-being of all its members. Nadir aimed the blows of despotism at the family which has succeeded to his empire, and he maimed the successful individual, who seized upon his kingdom and ejected his sons. Aga Mahommed Khan Khoju was mutilated in his youth by Nadir; but he retained the feelings of a man, and dug up the bones of the conqueror, in revenge for his disgrace. Report adds, that he sent them to Tehran, and placed them under the step which leads to the audience hall, that the courtiers and every one might trample upon them. We can readily comprehend the chagrin of a monarch who was not a man; and if his wrath excites our contempt, it enlists our sympathy. A eunuch himself, he spared his country from those banes of a palace. There are still some of Nadir’s descendants living in Meshid; but they are blind and in destitute circumstances. My informant told me that they often applied to him for bread.

Illumination.

We soon received a reply to our communication from the Prince Royal’s camp, and were invited to pay our respects to Abbas Meerza, who had just captured the fortress of Koochan, which was said to be one of the strongest in Persia. The intelligence of its fall was received in Meshid with great enthusiasm, and followed by an illumination of three successive nights: for no monarch since the days of Nadir had ever subdued the chiefs of Khorasan. We dined à la Perse with Abdool, our old travelling friend, who is a merchant in Meshid, and then proceeded to view the illumination. Among the devices, I most admired the shop of a butcher, who had illuminated eight or ten sheep, by placing lights behind their fat and tallow, which he had cut into delicate stripes. I gave him credit for his ingenuity, if he kept his meat from roasting. In one street I saw an effigy dangling in the air, which I, of course, set down as the Koord chief who had been captured at Koochan; but this was no other person than the accursed Omar. It must have edified the Soonees to witness the holy caliph between earth and heaven; but I had none of my Bokhara acquaintances to give me their comments. Besides the effigy on the gibbet, we had a real exhibition of a man suspended from a beam laid across the street, and that, too, in a blaze of light. How the contrivance was made I did not discover; for he had a rope round his neck, and kicked and acted to reality. As the crowd gazed on this curious exhibition, a wag fixed eight or ten tapers to the head of a butting ram, and let him loose among the assembly, where he forced his way as well by his horns as the lights that crowned him. Altogether the scene approached much nearer a genuine British illumination than I had ever expected to see in Asia.

We now prepared for our journey to camp, and took leave of all our Bokhara acquaintances and friends; visiting most of them at the caravansary, where we had a parting cup of tea. Many of the slaves came to see us, and we now hailed them as freemen. I was sorry to bid adieu to Ernuzzer the Toorkmun; but I gave him a letter to the Vizier of Bokhara; and, as it contained all the news of Khorasan, he seemed proud to be its bearer, and was anxious to set out on his return. We had now less fear of being thought rich; so we clothed our friend in a dress, and amply rewarded him for his services. I stuck a pistol in his girdle as he was leaving; and, though of the coarsest manufacture, it seemed a mighty gift to a Toorkmun. I had also to prepare a variety of letters to our friends in Toorkistan, to whom I was pledged to write. I did not require such a pledge: for at a distance from them, and many more of our friends on this side the Indus, I remembered innumerable acts of kindness which had contributed to our comfort and happiness while living among them, which I could not now forget. In Meshid, perhaps, our feelings were more pleasing than in any part of the journey; for we had the prospect of soon seeing our countrymen, and the rest of our undertaking was, comparatively speaking, easy. We could now dress in respectable and clean clothes, without being called on to pay for our comforts.

Departure from Meshid.

After a week’s stay at Meshid, we quitted it on the 23d of September, and marched up the valley of the Meshid river to Ameerabad, a distance of forty miles. It was dark before we reached the stage, and we were benighted; we therefore spread our felts in a field, and bivouacked through the night. We espied the lights of some travellers near us, and they sold us wheat, with which we fed our ponies. About twelve miles from Meshid, we passed the ruins of Toose, which is the ancient capital of Khorasan; but the inhabitants have transferred themselves to Meshid. The valley of this river is rich; and it was pleasant to see extensive fields, in a dry country, watered by irrigation. Ameerabad, which we did not see, is a strong fortress, and was captured by the Prince, about a month before we arrived, after a siege of five weeks. It is situated in the district of Chinaran.

Koochan.

We continued our progress up the valley for sixty miles, and reached Koochan on the third day of our leaving Meshid. This is said to be the coldest part of Khorasan; and it may well be believed, when the thermometer fell to 29° at sunrise in September. As water boiled at 206°, we were about 4000 feet above the sea. The valley varied in breadth from twelve to twenty miles, and there were some verdant spots under the hills, where the finest fruit is produced. Otherwise the country was bare and bleak. The hills have no wood, and are even destitute of brushwood. They rise to the height of 2000 or 3000 feet above the valley. We passed many villages by the way; but they were now deserted, on account of the war against the Koords. The roads were hard and excellent. We met many of the soldiers returning to their homes, since the campaign had terminated. They were a favourable specimen of the troops of Khorasan; for they were provided with arms that had serviceable flint locks, which I had not seen since leaving Cabool. The men were small, but they were merely the “Eeljaree,” or militia of the country.

Camp of the Prince.

We reached the camp of Abbas Meerza a little before noon, and found ourselves once more in European society. So complete was our disguise, that we had to make ourselves known, though we were expected. European officers. We sat down to breakfast with Captain Shee, Mr. Barowski, and Mr. Beek, who now compose the corps of officers in the Prince’s service. How delighted did we feel to hear our native language, and learn the news and events which had been passing in our protracted absence! We had arrived at an eventful moment, as the fortress had but a few days fallen, and we yet threaded our way among fascines and gabions, sap, mines, outworks, batteries, covert ways, and all the other works of a besieging army. Nothing could be more gloomy than the walls of the town. The parapet had been nearly dismantled; some of the towers had been blown up; all were battered; and the soldiery, now relieved from the dangers of the campaign, were filling up the ditch in listless idleness. This fosse was a barrier of a most formidable nature; for it was about thirty-five feet deep and twenty broad, though it narrowed towards the bottom. The Prince’s army had effected a lodgment across it; and a few more hours would have settled the fate of the fortress, when its chief surrendered at discretion. Koochan is a strong fortress, about a mile and a half in circumference, and was defended by a garrison of 8000 men. The assault would have been attended with bloodshed, and its fall is entirely to be attributed to the European officers, whose science and skill had been grafted on the labour and exertion of the Persians.

Introduction to Abbas Meerza.

In the evening, we were introduced to the Prince Royal, by Captain Shee. His Royal Highness was proceeding to inspect his park of artillery, and we met him by the way. He received us in a most engaging and affable manner; offered us his congratulations at the great success of our journey through countries which he had not believed accessible to Europeans. He then assured us, that our troubles were at an end, since we had reached a land where our nation was respected. I thanked the Prince for his kindness, and then briefly replied to the various questions which he put regarding the countries we had visited. By this time we were standing in front of his artillery, while the whole of his court were about fifty yards in rear of us. The Prince gave a signal, and about six or eight persons advanced. He introduced two of them as his sons; another as Ruza Koli Khan, the conquered chief of the proud fortress. There was also another Koord chief; and Yar Mahommed Khan, the minister of Herat. What a sight did the great Koord chief present to us, now standing in homage before his conqueror and the artillery which had subdued him. It appears that the parade had been ordered, to give him a sight of the park, and we had arrived at the opportune time to witness the spectacle. The Prince, turning towards me, said, “You must see my artillery;” and we then passed down the line with his Royal Highness, examining each gun as we approached it. Abbas Meerza took great pains to explain every thing concerning them; and the enquiries and looks of the unfortunate Ruza Koli Khan drew forth many a smiling remark. The chief appeared bewildered, and I thought he feigned insanity. He asked the Prince to give him a large mortar, which we were all admiring; Abbas Meerza told him not now to trouble himself about these things. The guns, which had fallen with the fortress, were drawn up in line, with the other artillery; they were Russian ordnance, cast in 1784, and had been captured from the present King of Persia. The Koord chief pretended not to recognise them; and, when he heard of their history, made a just enough remark, that they were good enough for Koochan. In the place of this chief, I should have considered it no dishonour to be subdued by a park of thirty-five guns, from four to 32-pounders, in the best state of efficiency. The Prince then witnessed the exercise of the corps; bearing the amplest testimony to the merits of Captain Lindsay (now Sir Henry Bethune), the British officer who had organised it, and of whom he spoke with kindness. The ceremony then terminated, and we retired from the scene with much gratification at an interview with a Charles the Second in Persia. I was disappointed in Abbas Meerza’s appearance. He has been handsome, but is now haggard, and looks an old man; he has lost his erect carriage, his eye waters, and his cheek is wrinkled. He was plainly dressed, and walked with a stick in his hand. His eldest son, Mahommed Meerza, was present; but he has not the manners or dignity of his parent, though he is also an agreeable person.

Interview with Abbas Meerza.

On the following morning we paid our respects to the Prince Royal in his tents, and found him transacting business with his minister, the Kaim Mukam, and several other persons who were standing round him. There was no state or pomp to mark so great a personage. When the Prince had settled some matters on which he was engaged, he gave us a dose of politics, and talked of the incomparable advantages to England of upholding Persia, and begged I would explain in my own country his present situation; which, though at the head of a successful army, was most embarrassing, since he had no money to pay it. I told the Prince that I regretted to hear such a detail of his difficulties, and I could only hope that he would surmount them all. I did not tell him, as I have ever felt, that I consider the payment of money to such a cabinet as derogatory to the name and honour of Britain; since it has tended more to lower our reputation in Asia than our most martial deeds in India have done to raise it. There was not, however, wanting a share of cant in the Prince’s oration; for he gravely assured me that he had now taken the field to suppress the sale and capture of his subjects as slaves by the Uzbeks. The motive was praiseworthy; but mark the conclusion:—“I am entitled, therefore, to the assistance of Britain: for if you expend annually thousands of pounds in suppressing the slave trade in Africa, I deserve your aid in this quarter, where the same motives exist for the exercise of your philanthropy.” I was pleased with the ingenuity and earnestness of the reasoning, which his Royal Highness had, no doubt, derived from some English newspaper or English friend. The Prince now turned to other matters, and asked regarding my education, and the notes which I had taken of the unknown country I had visited. “I am aware of your custom to do so,” said he; “and it is this general observance of it which has exalted your nation in the scale of civilisation.” He enquired if I had met with any potatoes in my travels; and, on my replying in the negative, he produced a basketful of his own rearing, with evident satisfaction. They were a fair specimen, and do most decidedly entitle his Royal Highness to be elected an honorary member of a horticultural society. In the true spirit of a courtier, the Prince returned to the Uzbeks and the different countries of Toorkistan with which he thought me best acquainted. He asked, if I had met with any explanation of those passages in the History of Timour, where the undermining of a tower is described, and its then being destroyed by fire. I was not prepared for such a question, and mentioned the Greek fire used at the siege of Constantinople, and the circumstance of Timour’s vicinity to China, where it is believed that the art of making gunpowder was then known. I had not at this time heard that the undermined towers were supported by wooden frameworks, which, when set fire to, ceased to support the bastion, and it consequently fell. I next replied to the Prince’s queries regarding the customs of the Uzbeks. He smiled at their abomination of tobacco; since they sold it publicly, and mentioned that the servants of an envoy, whom he had lately received from Orgunje, caught the smoke as it came out of their master’s mouth. I had not seen such barbarism in Bokhara. When I related to the Prince the spiritual notions of the Uzbeks, and some instances of their hearing witness against themselves, he related to us a similar occurrence in the life of Ali:—A female, who was enceinte, called for death, as an atonement for her sins. The Caliph desired her to appear when her offspring was born. She did so, and again accused herself; and he gave the command for her being stoned to death, but prohibited every one from lifting a stone who was in the least impure. The Caliph put the woman to death himself. I told his Royal Highness that I regretted I had not heard the tale, that I might have replied to the Uzbeks. The Prince then requested me to give him some notes on the resources of the country about Shurukhs, which he shortly intended to visit. I gave them without hesitation. Abbas Meerza, during this interview, spoke of geography and mathematics by these names, and evinced a tolerable proficiency in the first of these sciences. He spoke of New Holland; but he did not enlighten me on one of his favourite plans, by which he purposes to consign all his brothers and nephews to that country on his accession to the crown.[9] Never was any thing more visionary. I now intimated my wishes to prosecute my journey among the Toorkmun tribes to the Caspian Sea; and the Prince, with great urbanity, assured me that I might visit any portion of the Persian dominions. He spoke of the danger of journeying among Toorkmuns; but desired his secretary to prepare a “rukum,” or order, which would ensure protection, and suggested our accompanying a Khan, who was proceeding in that quarter. He also offered a letter to his brother, the Prince of Mazanderan, and had it intimated to his son, who was then in his camp, that I would proceed in that quarter. We then took our leave of Abbas Meerza, much gratified by the interview. I cannot say that I was strongly impressed with his talents; but they evidently rise above mediocrity, and he is said to be swayed in his councils by others; he is, in every sense of the word, a perfect gentleman.

Acquaint­ances.

In the Persian camp we had many visiters, and found much to amuse us in the bustling scene. We found two of the Persian gentlemen, who had been in England, Meerza Baba, the Hukeem Bashee, and Meerza Jaffier, both of whom now sighed for the return of the days which they had passed in England. There, they were lions: here, they were among their countrymen. Meerza Baba is an intelligent and agreeable man; and, in an Asiatic, I have never seen a more perfect approach to an English gentleman, both in language and manners. I jested with him about Hajee Baba; but that work has given great offence in Persia, and the Hukeem Bashee assured me that the English did not understand the Persians. I can hardly agree with him, for I afterwards saw a good deal of Hajee Babaism in the land.

Future plans. Separation from Dr. Gerard.

Since we had entered Khorasan my fellow-traveller, Dr. Gerard, had come to the resolution of turning down upon Herat, and Candahar, and thus retraceing his steps to Cabool, in preference to advancing upon the Caspian. The main object of our journey had been now nearly accomplished, and the route of Herat, which promised him some gratification, had been travelled in safety by Lieutenant Arthur Conolly[10], an enterprising officer of the Bengal Cavalry, and all the French officers of Runjeet Sing. We now, therefore, prepared to separate, after a weary pilgrimage of nine months which we had performed together. Our feelings on such an occasion may be imagined; but we parted with the knowledge, that we had almost brought the original design of our undertaking to a close, and that both to the east and west all serious dangers were at an end. At Koochan I also permitted the Hindoo lad to return to India, along with Dr. Gerard; and, at his own request, I discharged my faithful Afghan servant, who had accompanied me from Lodiana. His name was Sooliman, a native of Peshawur. He was quite unlettered; but he had kept both my secrets and my money where there were many inducements to betray. He had proved himself worthy of my confidence; and the feelings with which I parted from him were those of unmingled approbation and regard. By the opportunity which presented itself I wrote to all our native friends in Cabool, and even to Runjeet Sing himself. It would be presumptuous to believe that the many titled personages I addressed were my friends, though their professions had been great: but, if the rulers and governors of countries and cities be set aside, there was yet a long list of good and worthy men as correspondents, whose good wishes, I do not hesitate to say, I desire. It will not be out of place to name the individuals I addressed on this occasion, since we experienced civilities and kindness from all.

Koosh Begee, of Bokhara.

Sirdar Dost Mahommed Khan, of Cabool.

Nuwab Jubbar Khan, of Cabool.

Sirwur Khan Lohanee, of Cabool, at Bokhara.

Sirdar Sooltan Mahommed Khan, of Peshawur.

Peer Mahommed Khan,his brothers.

Saed Mahommed Khan,

Moorad Ali Khan Nazir, of Peshawar.

Ghoolam Kadir Khan,Sons of Cazee Moolah Hoosun.

Meer Alum,

Toghy Hosn Caboolee, of Lodiana.

Shere Mahommed Khan (his son), Bokhara.

Moollah Ruheem Shah Cashmeeree, Cabool.

Naib Mahommed Shureef, Cabool.

Mean Fuzil huq Sahibzadu, Peshawur.

Meean Sado Deen, Peshawur.

Maharaja Runjeet Sing, Lahore.

Sirdar Lenu Sing, Majeetia.

Sirdar Huree Singat, Attok.

Meerza Saeed ibn Yar Mahommed Balkhee, Bokhara.

CHAP. XV. JOURNEY AMONG THE TOORKMUNS OF THE CASPIAN.

Departure from Koochan.

On the 29th of September, I bade farewell to my fellow-traveller and the officers of the Prince’s service, and commenced a journey to the shores of the Caspian. I joined Humza Khan, who had been lately appointed Governor of the Toorkmuns east of that sea, and now proceeded with a party of about three hundred persons, composed of Koords, Persians, and Toorkmuns; but the alarms for personal safety, which had so often troubled me in days that were gone, had now, I may say, vanished, for I looked upon all those around me as friends. My costume led to many mistakes among the party; and, after I had satisfied the Khan that I was the “Firingee” recommended to his care by the Prince, I felt rather disposed to mix with the others as one of themselves, since a better opportunity would be afforded for judging of the people. We bivouacked, after a march of twenty-six miles, beyond Shirwan, a strong fortress, with a deep wet ditch, that was now being dismantled by orders of the Prince. From the small number of labourers engaged on this work of spoliation, I suppose it will be soon abandoned, and that the place will rise in due time as one of the strong-holds of Khorasan.

Atruck River. Boojnoord.

We followed the course of the Atruck river, which rises near Koochan, till within ten miles of Boojnoord, when we left it running westward as a small rivulet, and crossed several mountain ridges. A march of thirty-eight miles brought us to Boojnoord, a rather large place, standing in a spacious valley, and the residence of one of the Koord chiefs, who prudently tendered his allegiance on the approach of the Prince, and now owed the possession of his fortress to his share of discretion. We here saw, for the first time, the wandering inhabitants, or Ilyats, of Khorasan, about a thousand of whose black tents were scattered around. They did not appear to differ from the Ghiljees of Cabool. On our march to Boojnoord we met the peasantry crowding in bodies to occupy their native villages. They had fled on the commencement of the war, and now returned on the success of the Prince: the poor creatures stopped to ask the particulars of the campaign; but the women and children could hardly believe us any other than plundering Koords. The year had passed away without a crop; but, if the country returns to a state of peace, it may yet become prosperous and happy. War has desolating effects everywhere; but it is fearful to be befriended by a Persian army. The enemy who opposes it fares best, since he has no billets sent to him for grain and supplies; the pittance of the obedient subject is actually devoured.

Toorkmun discipline.

Four miles from Boojnoord, we left the valley in which it is situated, and entered among hills. It was difficult to trace any range either to our right or left, but those on the south were covered with pine trees. The climate was moist and pleasant, and there were many rich and beautiful spots of cultivation among the bare hills. The vineyards of Sarewan, which were in a deep glen, are quite enchanting. Though the country was mountainous, the road was excellent; and, after a march of thirty-six miles, we reached Kila Khan, in the district of Simulghan, which is richly watered from the hills. We were now upon the line of inroad of the Tuka Toorkmuns, who engage in constant forays between Meshid and Tehran; and the mountains and roads over which we trod must ever be crossed by them. Our own party, however, consisted of two hundred Toorkmuns of the Goklan and Yamood tribe, who had served in the Prince’s army, and were now discharged: such was their share of the glories of the Khorasan campaign. We had had a specimen of their native propensities in our second march from the camp, where they met a party of villagers proceeding to sell their grapes. The poor peasants were mercilessly beaten, and the Toorkmuns pillaged the greater portion of the contents of their baskets. By the laws of an enlightened country, they might not have been blameable, if they were actually in want of food. The spoil was shared equally among them, and he who had knocked down fared no better than he who was in the rear: they even brought me a share of the captured property. It was in vain that the Khan endeavoured to discountenance these practices, for he possessed no authority over them. At length they received a salutary check at Sarewan, where the villagers turned out in a body, and knocked down a trespasser, which frightened his comrades. I secretly rejoiced at their discomfiture.

Travelling in Khorasan.

What a long Fursukh is that of Khorasan, says a traveller, who has toiled from sun-rise nearly to sun-set, and who can no longer cling to his jaded horse, but by the prong in front of his saddle. An European, who canters and gallops onwards, can form no just conception of the fatigue of a forty-mile stage in Khorasan, where every step must be walked, and there is no inn or refreshment at the end of it. “By the head of the Prophet!” said one of the party, as we neared our halting ground, “this road is longer than the entrails of Omar, for my back and my knees have lost their feeling.” I had a hearty laugh at the quaint comparison, and also sympathized in his fatigue. “Pidr sokhtu!” (Burn his father!) continued the talkative Persian, “I never was so worn out.” In our party we had several lively fellow-travellers; and, on a few days’ acquaintance, the Persian appeared to me a better sort of being in his country than abroad, where his vanity is beyond endurance.

Tribe of Gireilee.

A march of thirty-eight miles brought us to the site of a village called Shahbaz; but we had now lost all traces of inhabitants, though the country was rich. The tribe of Gireilee had in former years tilled the soil, and tended their cattle: but human beings appear to be considered in these countries as much property as horse-flesh; and Aga Mahommed Khan had transferred the whole race to Mezenderan. The rich pastures of the country lay neglected: for what peasant would seek his abode near the Tuka Toorkmuns, whose tents lie but a few miles distant beyond the hills. In the society of two hundred of these people, we even did not feel ourselves altogether safe. In all our bivouacs, I had hitherto escaped the damp ground as a bed, but I rose in the morning stiff and benumbed by humidity and dews. The sun soon dried my clothes, and good spirits (I do not mean brandy) prevented any evil consequences. We were now travelling among mountains, with alternate hill and dale, and over a wild and romantic country. There were a few stunted pine trees on the hills, but they were oftener bare of every thing but grass. All the people were kind and conversable; and man requires little else even in the arid regions of Khorasan.

A Toorkmun acquaintance.

A Toorkmun who had proffered his acquaintance, by the way asked me abruptly to tell him the news of Bokhara, recognising, I suppose, in my costume the dress of that country. He addressed me in Persian, which was no doubt as foreign a language to him as myself. “I am a Firingee,” said I; when the Toorkmun pulled up his horse, and said, “Come, do not think you can play the fool with me, for Firingees have no beards; and your shaved head and dress belie your assertion.” It was in vain that I continued to convince him of my real character. “Soonee, or Shiah, which are you?” said he. “Be it so,” replied I, “since you are determined to have me a Mahommedan;” and I repeated the names of the first four Caliphs, the watchword of the Soonees and Toorkmuns, who are all of that persuasion. “Bravo!” cried my new acquaintance; “I knew I was right;” and we journeyed together with great delight, I personating a character which had been forced upon me: nor was it sufficient that my creed was settled; the Toorkmun also fixed my country, which was Cabool. I did not allow the opportunity to pass which thus presented itself of improving my knowledge of the Toorkmuns, whose lands we were once more to enter.

Running down partridges.

My friend dashed off with great precipitation among a crowd of his countrymen, to run down a “kubk,” or partridge, which rose near us. This is an easier matter than would be at first imagined, as the number captured soon proved. These birds fly once or twice, seldom thrice, and are then picked up. The Toorkmuns were delighted with the sport, and I participated in their excitement, though I did not join in it. The long spears with which they were armed, their great activity, and the horsemanship which they displayed, gave what I imagined to be a just resemblance to their “chupao,” when in search of human beings. At a gallop, a Toorkmun cavalier leans forward on his saddle, which gives him an air of eagerness that is singularly interesting. The whole scene was worthy of the ancient Parthia, the very country that we now traversed.

A Toorkmun bard.

Among the Toorkmuns I noticed an individual loitering by the way, and humming some notes as he went, to which his leg and his arm seemed to be keeping time, while an instrument like a “sitar,” or lute, served to convince me that I had at last got hold of a character for whom I had been searching—a bard of the Toorkmuns. “Sulam alaikoom,” said I to the bard; who returned it most graciously. But, alas! our conversation here ended, for he knew no language but Toorkee, and my acquaintance was but sufficient to tell him that I knew it not. Instinct set the bard to the task which I wished; and he struck up one of the airs of his tribe; but the paces of our horses did not admit of his using his instrument. Music is an expensive accomplishment in all countries; and the bard began to interrogate me as to his reward, hinting that he must not be wasting his arts in vain. An interpreter between us informed him that he should have a good pilao in the evening; but the Toorkmun gave a glance behind him, and asked who would cook the pilao for a man who had not even a servant. Here was a hint to travel in state. The bard dropped in the rear to ask who I might be; and I did have the pleasure in the evening of giving him a pilao, and removing his doubts of my solvency. For this I had a promise of introduction to the minstrels of his clan.

Goklan Toorkmuns.

Six miles from Shahbaz we took leave of the hill and dale which we had so long traversed, and descended into a valley, which contained the source of the river of Goorgan. For about twenty miles we wound gradually through it, without the smallest marks of civilisation: but our day’s journey terminated among the tenements of the Toorkmuns, which I was delighted once more to behold. These people are of the tribe of Goklan, and amount to about nine thousand families. No scene could be more enchanting than that on which we had now entered: the hills were wooded to the summit, and the hue of the different trees was so varied and bright, as hardly to appear natural. A rivulet flowed through the dell; and almost every fruit grew in a state of nature. The fig, the vine, pomegranate, raspberry, black currant, and the hazel, shot up everywhere; and, as we approached the camp of the Toorkmuns, there were extensive plantations of the mulberry. The different groups of tents were pitched in grotesque order in the open lawn near the river; and our party halted at one of their settlements on a beautiful shelf of green turf, that lay at the base of a cloud-capped hill, clothed with the richest foliage. The Toorkmuns received their new Governor with every respect, and appropriated a certain number of their tents for his accommodation: one of these was kindly bestowed on me; and I now found myself for the first time since leaving India (I except the camp of Abbas Meerza) under the shelter of a tent, and that too among the Toorkmuns. I also received buttered cakes and melons, as their guest, and fared sumptuously.

Customs of the Toorkmuns.

On winding through the valley, we had an opportunity of witnessing an interesting sight in the welcoming of a chief, or “Aksukal,” who had accompanied us from Koochan. We had only known him as a Wild Toorkmun; and, for my own part, I had scarcely noticed him: but here he was a noble, and, what is greater, a patriarch. He had been summoned by the Prince Royal, and now returned to his home. For miles before reaching the camp, the Toorkmuns crowded upon us to bid him welcome: all of them were on horseback—men, women, and children; and several of them cried, as they kissed his hand. At length, in a shady and picturesque part of the valley, a party, which appeared more respectable than the others, had dismounted and drawn up. This was the family of the chief: he leaped upon the ground with the enthusiasm of a youth, rushed forward, and kissed in succession four boys, who were his sons. The scene was pathetic; and the witty Persians, who had before been imitating some of the actions and exclamations of the Toorkmuns, were silenced by this fervent flow of affection. Three of the boys were under ten years of age, yet they mounted their horses with spirit, and joined the cavalcade. There were no bells to ring the peals of joy which this day pervaded the Goklan Toorkmuns: nor were they required to give more certain indication of their delight. A party of their countrymen had returned in safety from battle; the clan had gathered from every quarter; and, as they took up their position in the rear, they gave to us, who were indifferent spectators, the cordial salutation of friends. The women said, “Koosh geldee” (You are welcome), and crossed their hands on their breasts, as we passed them, in token of sincerity: I never witnessed a scene of more universal joy. A horseman, more delighted than the rest, appeared with his horse sinking under a load of bread, which he distributed in cakes to every one he met, with this remark:—“Take this, it is good in the sight of God: take it, you are a guest and a stranger.” It was impossible to look on such scenes with an eye of indifference; and could I but give in more graphic language the scenes of this day among the Toorkmuns, it would excite the warmest emotion: and yet I speak of the lawless Toorkmuns, who plunder and desolate the land: so true is it, that the character of mankind is made up of the most glaring inconsistencies and contradictions.

Toorkmuns of the Caspian.

The Khan whom I had accompanied, was now busily engaged in the duties of his new occupation. He was the harbinger of good news to the Toorkmuns: for they, who plunder every one, had been themselves plundered by the Mezenderan troops, who had proceeded to join the army through their territories. The Prince had ordered a register of their losses to be communicated; and our Khan moved from camp to camp as a welcome visiter. I continued with him for four days, which I passed in pleasing observation of Toorkmun habits and customs. No opportunity could have been more favourable to the purpose, since we were every where well received by them; and I appeared in the suite of a great man. The tribe of Goklan Toorkmuns is subject to Persia, which has asserted its supremacy for the last thirty-six years. Their allegiance is unwilling, but it is complete; for they have exchanged the habits of rapine for the peaceful vocation of agriculture. They want the affluence and comfort which I have described among the Toorkmuns of Shurukhs. The Yamood tribe, which lies between them and the Caspian, have been also subdued by Persia; but the greater number of that clan, which is said to amount to twenty thousand families, enables them frequently to resist and rebel. The Goklans, however, have no political power. The Tuka Toorkmuns, which skirt, to the north, both these tribes that I have named, maintain their independence of Persia. The customs of the Toorkmuns do not differ from those about Bokhara, only that they more nearly resemble citizens. The women conceal the face below the mouth; though I cannot say that the personal charms of those whom I saw during our stay here would induce even a forward youth to sue for a kiss, or a sight of their ruby lips. Their dress more assimilates to that of Persia than those of the desert.

A Toorkmun patriarch.

In our travels from one tenement to another, I met a man of about sixty years of age, who first attracted my notice, by observing every one dismount as he advanced, and proceed to kiss his hand; for which he gave his blessing. This was a Syud of the Toorkmuns. A Persian, who had observed my watchful attention to what was passing, called out to the aged man that I was an European; and we were soon engaged in conversation. He held the unpromising name of Mahommed Ghilich, or the “Sword of Mahommed;” but the universal respect bestowed upon him had softened his manners; and age had mellowed his voice: his sentiments, too, were pleasing. He asked if all Franks were Christians; and when I told him they were, he said, “It is well to follow our own creed: a Jew, a Christian, a Mahommedan, will be one in death.” Our conversation then turned upon the Toorkmuns; and he lamented their sale of human beings, since a difference of religion afforded no just grounds for such cruelty. “It was a propensity of their race,” said he; “for their dispositions were wicked, and they listened not to his advice. But am I speaking to a ‘Firingee?’” said the aged man, abruptly interrupting himself; “I have never before seen one; and how should I in so remote a country. Where is the country of the Franks; and where is the desert of the Toorkmuns? There must be something peculiar in our destiny,” continued he to muse aloud with himself, “which has brought you and me together. Our spirits (roh) must have had intercourse in another world, to meet in this;” which was a singular remark. After travelling together for about three miles, we stopped at a mound of earth which had a pole stuck in the centre, and several of which we had already seen. “What is this?” enquired I. “It is called a Yoozka; and marks the place where some one has died or been laid out as a corpse. The Toorkmuns say a blessing as they pass the spot, and hope for the favour of the deceased. It is an old custom among us, and you will see many others as you advance.” They are not graves, but mounds or barrows raised in honour of the dead. I entertain an impression that the usage is Tatar; but I had no opportunity of further investigation. The venerable Syud was crossing to the top of a neighbouring hill, where was his home and six sons. He clasped my hand, blessed me, wished me a safe journey to my country; and consigning me to God, according to the custom of the people, we parted.

Noble scenery.

At length we cleared the valley of the Goorgan river, and debouched upon the plain eastward of the Caspian. The landscape was very imposing. To our left, the hills, now running in a range, rose up to a great height, clad to the summit with forest trees and foliage. To our right, the extensive plains, which are watered by the rivers Atruk and Goorgan, and richly verdant, were studded with innumerable encampments of Toorkmuns, and diversified by flocks and herds. In our front, at a distance, we descried the lofty mountains of Elboorz, that seemed to shut up an otherwise boundless plain. Such a scene would have delighted any one; much more a wanderer from the deserts of Scythia.

The Khan, before I took my departure, gratified my curiosity on the subject of Toorkmun minstrelsy, by sending two “Bukhshees,” or Bards, to amuse me with their lyre and lays. The instrument was a rude two-stringed sitar, to which they sung the national airs in Toorkee. They first gave me an “Attack of the Tuka Toorkmuns on the Persians;” and the following literal translation will give some notion of a Toorkmun war song:—

Toorkmun national songs.

THE TUKA TOORKMUNS TO THE KOORDS.

The Koords, though a Persian tribe, are as much addicted to plunder as the Toorkmuns; and there is, perhaps, greater spirit in the following song in reply to the Tuka Toorkmuns:—

THE KOORDS TO THE TUKA TOORKMUNS.

Quit the country of the Toorkmuns.

With these national lays closed my acquaintance with the Toorkmuns. I passed down upon Astrabad by the plain; avoiding, as much as possible, all intercourse with the Yamoods, who were not described as so pacific as the Goklans. I met several parties of them, and they offered me no incivility, though I had now left the suite of the Khan, and was travelling alone. A journey of eighty miles brought us to the town of Astrabad, from which the view is very imposing. At the base of mountains, one of which is the craggy fortress of Humawuran, the scene of Persian romance, lay the vast plain of the Toorkmuns. The Caspian could be but faintly distinguished, for it is upwards of twenty miles distant. On our route from the country of the Goklans, we passed a lofty cupola, the Goombuz Kaoos, supposed to stand on the ruins of the ancient Goorgan. It is said to have been once connected with the Caspian by a boundary line of forts styled the “Lanut Nooma,” or the “curse shower;” since every person was accursed who presumed to cross into the country of the Toorkmuns. The natives spoke of the wars and battles of by-gone years, when the rivers Goorgan and Atruk were dyed with blood; but I hope, as I believe, only in the metaphors of the poet.

Arrival at Astrabad.

In Astrabad we alighted at a caravansary; and passed two gloomy days in this “City of the Plague.” Plague. That scourge had last year devastated this town; and I sauntered without pleasure through its deserted streets. Half the shops and houses were shut, literally from want of masters; and the whole population did not exceed 4000 souls. The disease raged here with fearful violence; and from some families of ten or twelve, two or three only remained. In every instance that the tumours of the patient burst, life was spared; but not till it had left the most horrid scars as marks of its virulence: they looked like gunshot wounds. One would have almost imagined that these people had become familiarised to death, though the disease had now disappeared. The bier used for interment lay by the road-side; and I saw them washing a dead body by one of the wells in the public street, near some fruit-shops. I moved quickly away from the spectacle; and the sound of my horses’ hoofs echoed as I trod these lonely streets.

Astrabad.

Astrabad is a place of no great note. A dry ditch, and a decayed mud wall about two miles in circumference, surround it; yet there are parts in the interior, which bear no resemblance to a city, and remind one of the country. It is the birthplace of the Kujurs, the reigning family of Persia. Hanway tells us, that in the beginning of last century, it was a considerable mart for trade; but its prosperity has declined, since it has now only four caravansaries, and there are but twelve shops for the sale of cloth. Its position is favourable, being but twenty miles from the Caspian. The magnificent causeway of Shah Abbas, which still exists, also keeps open its communication with the provinces south of that sea. Its trade with Orgunje, or Khiva, is comparatively trifling; there being but one or two annual caravans of eighty or a hundred camels. The intervening country is very disturbed; goods may be conveyed there with greater safety, by passing them up the eastern bank of the Caspian, and landing in the latitude of Khiva. There is hardly any trade between Astrabad and Russia. The climate of Astrabad is humid and disagreeable. It rains so much that it is difficult to keep a mud wall standing, and a very ingenious plan has been devised to effect it. A mat of reeds is placed on the top of the wall, covered with earth, and planted with lilies, or fleur-de-lis, which grow up luxuriantly, and thus protect it from the rain. Though Astrabad be in the same parallel as Koochan, the thermometer, which there fell below the freezing point at sunrise, now stood at 60° in October. The difference of elevation solves the problem. Astrabad produces oranges, figs, lemons, and the fruits of hot countries.

Arrival on the Caspian.

From Astrabad I proceeded to the banks of the Caspian at Nokunda, a straggling village about thirty miles distant. We might have come on it sooner, but I had an introduction to the Khan of that place, and preferred seeing the Causeway of the great Shah Abbas. It is yet in tolerable repair, and appears to have been about twelve feet broad, and formed of round stones. It runs through a thick forest, where figs, vines, and pomegranates grow spontaneously. This road will, in all probability, remain, like that of the Cæsars, as the most lasting memorial of the munificent Abbas. Without it, the province of Mazenderan would be quite impervious for many months. The Khan of Nokunda received me very kindly, and was a communicative man. He was a relation of the Khan with whom I had travelled among the Toorkmuns. He gave me a Persian dinner, and many Persian compliments; and I assured him, in return, that the guest of a night was the friend of a hundred years.

Adventures on the Caspian.

The forests of Mazenderan had yet hid the Caspian; nor did I see it till the following morning, and within half a mile of its beach. What a noble sight it at length presented, after we had been so long looking for it, and travelled from Delhi to its shores. It now rolled before us like the ocean. Near us lay five or six small vessels, here called “gummee;” and the Khan and myself embarked in one of them, and sailed merrily out to sea, from which we viewed this beautiful coast. We boarded a small Russian vessel, and the whole voyage was repaid by the reception of the captain, who, on hearing I was a European, pulled off his fur cap, and had a bit of sturgeon broiled for my refreshment. I cannot say I relished it; but then, I had not had such a bow, and such society, for many a day. These vessels are all of Russian build; they carry two masts, and hoist square sails; their tackle is superior: but there were no vessels of any great tonnage then in the harbour. There is a prevalent belief, that the waters on the southern side of the Caspian have been receding; and during these twelve years they have retired about three hundred yards, of which I had ocular proof. Over the reef which forms the Bay of Astrabad, the natives informed me that the water of the Caspian is fresh, while in other places it is brackish; but as this is the embouchure of the rivers Atruk and Goorgan, it may be readily accounted for. I did not leave the Caspian without endeavouring to verify the opinions regarding its level, which is clearly below that of the ocean. A thermometer, which boils at the sea at 212⅓°, here boiled at 213⅔°, which, according to Humboldt, would give a depression of 800 feet, which is much too great. I did not, however, use proper water for the experiment, and we shall rest satisfied simply with its being a corroboration of received opinions of the depression of this inland sea.

Gardens of Ushruff.

I took leave of the Khan of Nokundu, and proceeded to Ushruff, which is in Mazenderan, and one of the favoured seats of Shah Abbas and Nadir, and which Jonas Hanway has so graphically described some ninety years ago. All the fine buildings which he mentions have been destroyed, though their architecture is such that they might have stood for centuries. There is yet enough to leave a very favourable impression of the taste of the Persian monarch; since it is evident that they have been light and chaste, and in that keeping which ought to characterise garden-houses. A superb basin, and all the aqueducts, are yet perfect, and the cypress trees have attained a great height in their advanced age. The situation of these gardens is beautiful; they command a noble view of the Caspian.

Fortunate escape.

At Ushruf we met a party of pilgrims from Bokhara and Khiva, who joined us at the caravansary. We learned from them, that the Russian caravan, which had proceeded to Mangusluk, had been plundered by the Kirgizzes, about ten days after leaving Khiva. But for the advice of the Vizier in Bokhara, we should have accompanied that caravan; and had we succeeded in passing through the town of Khiva, we should have met with the catastrophe to which I have alluded, between it and the Caspian. The pilgrims recounted the great hardships of their journey from Khiva to Astrabad, where they had experienced much oppression from the Toorkmun tribes. I had now to congratulate myself on having attended to the advice that had been given.

The plague.

After we had proceeded a mile beyond Ushruf, we found the great causeway barricaded, and a villager seated with a stick, to prevent a trespass. This was the board of health at Ushruf; for we now heard, for the first time, that the plague was raging at Saree, the capital of Mazenderan, and the town at which I had that day intended to halt. We prosecuted our journey; but rested at a village two miles from Saree, where our information of the existence of the disease was confirmed. I was now on my road to Balfurosh, and its port on the Caspian,—a place of some note, where I hoped to see more Russian vessels, and enlarge my acquaintance with this sea and that people; but I made an immediate alteration in my plans, and prepared for a precipitate retreat from the shores of the Caspian and Mazenderan. Quit the Caspian. Next morning I took the high road to Tehran, and met with rather a staggering incident as we passed outside the walls of Saree. Our road brought us into a burying-ground, where two boys were digging a grave, as we passed, for two bodies that lay near them. Such a scene filled me with horror; for the people had died of the plague: but what was our astonishment to be addressed by the grave-diggers, and beseeched, as good Mahommedans, to assist in the usual ablutions of a corpse! “You shall have five ‘sahib kurans’ (about three rupees) for your trouble,” exclaimed they. There was a silence among us; no one gave an answer; and we soon found ourselves beyond Saree, having quickened the pace of our horses. This town suffered so severely from the plague in the preceding year, that there were not now more than three hundred people in it, and most of them were persons who had recovered from the disease; since the Persians bear an impression that the plague cannot be taken more than once. There were now too few people to admit of the disease spreading; but it no doubt lurked in Saree. They informed me that it had been introduced by Balfurosh from Astracan in the preceding year, and all my curiosity to see that place vanished with the information.

Notice of the plague.

In our march we were joined by a native of Astrabad, who was proceeding to Tehran; and he gave me some account of the plague, which had raged last year. He had lost a son, and both he and his wife had caught the disease. She was nursing a child at the time; and though she continued to suckle it, the infant escaped. The disease did not reach its height till the tenth day, and was invariably attended with delirium. This person assured me, that he had the horror to see his own child dragged to the door by eight or ten cats, whom he with difficulty scared away; and affirmed it as his belief, that more people were killed by dogs and cats, or died from hunger, under the disease itself. None would approach an infected house, and no patient would even assist another. The plague and human nature are the same in all countries, and the affections and passions are never brought sooner to the test than in that devastating disorder.

Mazenderan.

Our stay in Mazenderan was now soon to close. It is a disagreeable country; and has so moist a climate, that the inhabitants are subject to fevers, agues, dropsies, palsies, and many other diseases. The people are sallow, and the children weak and rickety. It is a land of snakes and frogs; but the snakes are not venomous, being of the water species. They are to be seen twisting and turning every where, and about the thickness of a good-sized whip. Almost at every pace your horse disturbs some frogs, who scramble in vain for concealment even in a country of bushes and shrubs. So great is the moisture, that the rice crops are not cut, as in other countries. They mow the grain down near the ear, and place it to dry on the stubble; for it would otherwise rot. Mazenderan is a rich province. The sugar cane thrives in it; but they do not appear to prepare it beyond the first stage, and sell it as molasses. Cotton also grows luxuriantly, and silkworms are educated every where. The fruit is good, and much of it grows wild. There are whole woods of pomegranate trees; and the people collect the fruit, and, after drying the seeds in the sun, export them as a rarity to other countries.

Peasantry.

The peasantry, with a sickly, have yet a comfortable appearance. They tie folds of cloth round their legs and fix them with a low shoe, and lacing cords. They wade through their muddy roads with these, and tell you they are superior to boots, since they may be dried in the evening! The men wear dark clothes, and the women dress generally in red,—the two colours which I suppose are easiest made. Many of the people wear caps of felt, instead of lambskin. The houses of the country are buried in vegetation; creepers, melons, and pumpkins are every where to be seen resting on the roofs. Every house has a garden, and is surrounded by a hedge of mulberries; most of them are elevated by wooden poles to a considerable height from the ground, to prevent the bad effects of moisture. The inhabitants pass the summer and autumnal months in the hills, where they cultivate rice. They live in huts, and call such a residence “yailak,” in distinction from “kishlak,” which they apply to their permanent habitations.

CHAP. XVI. JOURNEY THROUGH PERSIA.—CONCLUSION OF THE NARRATIVE.

Quit Mazenderan.

At the village of Aliabad, which is twelve miles from Balfurosh, we quitted the Causeway of Shah Abbas, and proceeded south to the mountains, and entered the beautiful glen which is watered by the Tilar river. We had a sight of the lofty snow-clad mountain of Dumavend before leaving the low country. This valley extends for about sixty miles, and is the greatest of the passes into Mazenderan. Shah Abbas cut a road in the rock for about ten miles, which is yet passable, though it has not suited the policy of his successors to repair it. The horses frequently sunk girth deep into the mud; and if his present Majesty knew but half the curses and maledictions heaped upon his head and beard by the mule drivers, he would assuredly repair it for the peace of his own soul. The scenery of this valley is most romantic; the hills are covered with forest trees; and the rumbling noise of the water, which was many hundred feet below the road, had an effect that was most pleasing. About half way up the valley, we crossed the rivulet by a bridge, called the “pool i sufued”, and left the rich foliage of Mazenderan.

Pass of Gudook.

We finally cleared the valley by the pass of Gudook, which leads up to the table land of Persia. The word “Gudook,” in Toorkee, means a pass. Our ascent from the dell was continued and gradual; and at Feerozkoh we were again six thousand feet above the sea. On either side, as we approached the pass, the precipices rose in grand abruptness, and the narrowness of the road had led to its being fortified in former years. This is a scene of romance, and the strains of Furdoosee, the Persian Homer. The cave of the “Dev i sufued,” or white demon, was pointed out to us, as well as the spot where he was slain by the valiant Roostum. Some fellow travellers, whom we had picked up by the way, spouted verses from the Shahnamu, and I was more than once amused with their ruminations. They did not dream of the lively imagination of a national poet, but were regretting the degeneracy of the present age, which had no giants and Roostums, as in times that had gone. The top of the pass was very cold; and in winter this is said to prove sometimes fatal to the traveller. Shah Abbas has here erected a bath and a caravansary, but they are both in ruins.

Gudook the “Pylæ Caspiæ.”

It appears to me that the pass of Gudook may be identified with the “Pylæ Caspiæ,” or the Caspian gates, through which Alexander the Great pursued Darius. Their distance from Rhages or Rei, which lies near the modern city of Tehran, is said to have been a two days’ march, and the journey is ninety miles. I have before observed that this is the greatest of the passes into Mazenderan; and we have seen that it is hallowed by Persia’s greatest muse. By this road Alexander reached Hecatompylos, from which he advanced into Parthia. On the way he attacked the Taburi; and it is a very extraordinary fact, that, in the modern coinage of Mazenderan, that province is yet denominated Taburistan.

Feerozkoh.

From the pass of Gudook we journeyed in a cheerless valley pent in by bare hills; at the end of which stood the village of Feerozkoh, under a naked rock and fort about 300 feet high. This place put me in mind of Bameean, since many of the houses were excavated in the hills, where the inhabitants keep their flocks in winter. The climate is severe, and the snow lies for five months in the year. I observed a great change in the appearance of the inhabitants, who had now red and rosy cheeks. I know not whether our elevation from the lowlands of Mazenderan, might have an effect in the boiling of meat; but it took twice the usual time to cook my pilao at Feerozkoh; nay, the water was boiled up before the meat was ready. The flesh might have been tough, and an old sheep of the flock had, perhaps, fallen under the knife of the butcher.

Cure for the taste of quinine.

It is said that the natives of Mazenderan are the most simple of all the Persians, and we had some amusement at the expense of one of our fellow-travellers, who applied for medicine to arrest an intermittent fever. I gave him quinine, and afterwards took occasion to ask him how he liked its bitter taste. “It has no taste,” replied he; for he had swallowed it along with the paper in which it was packed up.

A Koord.

We made three marches to Tehran, a distance of ninety miles, halting by the way at the hovels of caravansarais, which the traveller finds in this part of Persia, where he alights in the same room with his horse. The country was arid, bleak, and miserable, and the number of villages most limited. We had no signs of approaching the metropolis of a country. An incident occurred near Baumein, the last stage, which should not be omitted: one of my “yaboos,” or ponies, had sunk under his load, and I went into a village to hire another; I succeeded in my suit, and paid the price of the animal to a Koord with whom I made the bargain, and was about to resume my journey:—“Will you not purchase my mule,” said he, “in exchange for your worn-out ‘yaboo,’ and give me the difference?” I entered into conversation, and found that the Koord took me for a native of Khorasan, and it was therefore useless to tell him I was an European. I certainly wished for his mule, and as I looked at it he said, with considerable solemnity,—“Now, as we are both good Mahommedans, let us conclude a bargain and not cheat each other.” I added, “Be it so,” and after a little conversation we settled all matters. His mule had, as I afterwards found, a broken back, and my yaboo had an incurable disease; but then it was as apparent to the Koord as it was to myself. Such was the settlement of a bargain between two good Mahommedans, who resolved to act fairly by each other; nor is Persia the only country where such arts are practised.

Vexations of a traveller.

On the 21st of October I was astir a little after midnight, to proceed with as little delay as possible to the capital of the King of kings, but what did my speed avail me? We had not got many yards from the caravansary before one of the loads tumbled from the mule, and while putting it right another was kicked off by a horse. We had repaired these disasters in a night as dark as Tartarus, and were about to advance, when it was discovered that one of the other ponies had strayed, and, what was more alarming, the very one, on which all my notes, maps, and papers had been packed. My tongue clove to the roof of my mouth, at the announcement of such a piece of information, among thieving Koords, after all the difficulties of the journey had apparently terminated. A search of half an hour recovered the strayed animal, and I trotted on with all speed to the gate of Tehran, which I reached at noon. Arrival at Tehran. I proceeded to the mansion of the British mission and presented myself at the outer door, as a “Firingee.” I was soon met by Sir John Campbell, the envoy at this court, and spent with him and his agreeable family a few happy and pleasant days, marked by the utmost hospitality and kindness.

Presentation to the Shah.

After being introduced by the Envoy to the “pillars of the state” the cabinet ministers of Persia, I had the honour of being presented to his Majesty, on the 26th of October. Having seen the Great Mogul himself, and the monarchs of Cabool and Bokhara, with many other exalted personages, I was gratified to find myself in the court of Persia. The “kibleh alum,” or attraction of the world, (so the king is styled,) sat in a hall of mirrors, and when yet beyond the light of his countenance, we drew up and saluted. We then advanced, and again saluted; and his Majesty returned it by calling aloud, “Khoosh amudeed,” you are welcome. We now ascended a few steps, and found ourselves in the presence of royalty. “Dumagh i shooma chak ust, are your brains clear?” exclaimed his Majesty with a sonorous voice; on this we drew up in a corner opposite to where the Shah sat, and returned the compliment by a salute. Sir John Campbell, Captain MʻDonald and myself composed the party, and the ministers stood on each side of us. The Shah sat at a distance of about forty feet, and a display of crystal, arranged with as little taste as in a shop, separated us from the King of kings. The chandeliers hung so thickly from the roof, that they completed the resemblance, and before any conversation had passed we were instructed to hold our swords, lest they might fracture the mirrors let into the wall behind us. “Does he understand Persian?” said his Majesty, to one of his ministers. “Bele, bele, yes, yes,” was the reply “he speaks Toorkee, Afghanee, Hindee, Persian, &c. &c.;” though I should have been soon at fault, had the Shah selected his dialect. “You have made a long and difficult journey,” commenced his Majesty; and such was the affability and engaging manner of this illustrious personage, that I felt myself at once free from embarrassment, and in the closest conversation with the “Asylum of the World.” He desired me to enumerate the cities which I had visited, and I ended the long list by saying, that the favour of God had at last brought me to his august capital. He exclaimed in a tone of surprise, “Why, a Persian could not have done so much. But what led you to undergo the dangers and fatigues of such a journey?” I replied, that it had been curiosity. “Did you travel as an European?” I told him I did so. “It must have cost you much money;” but his Majesty had a hearty laugh when I told him that we owed our release among the Toorkmuns to two gold ducats and a little tea. “Have you taken notes of your journey?” said the Shah. “Yes,” replied I, “I have measured the mountains, examined the roads, and sounded the rivers.” “These people are lions,” exclaimed the astonished monarch. “Bele, bele,” echoed his ministers, “they are tigers, they are Roostums.” “Give me a sketch of the affairs of Cabool,” continued the King, “tell me the power of the chief and his brothers;”—with all of which I complied, adding, as a courtier, that the ruler owed his power to the Persians he retained in his interests. He made enquiries as to their tribe and number, on which points I satisfied his Majesty. The Shah then put like questions on the power of all the chiefs between India and Persia, questioned me about the road over the Hindoo Koosh, and particularly on the capability of the Oxus, which he called the Jihoon, and seemed to consider the greatest river in the world: he mentioned the deserts which it passed, asking if they could be traversed by an army. His Majesty next spoke of the people of Bokhara, and asked if they were alarmed at the approach of Abbas Meerza to their frontiers. Need I give the answer: I told the King that they trembled. He smiled at my account of the Priests or Moollahs, and gave a look of contempt, as I mouthed the name of the King, the “Ameer ool Momineen,” the Commander of the faithful. “Did you try horse-flesh while among the Uzbeks?” was the next question. I replied that I did so, and it was not unpalatable. “But how got you from among the Toorkmuns?” said his Majesty once more. “I threw the dog a bit of meat, and escaped his jaws.”

After a little break in the conversation, the Shah, with some interest in what he said, enquired for the greatest wonder which I had seen in my travels. The opportunity was too favourable in so vain a court, and I replied in a loud voice, “Centre of the universe, what sight has equalled that which I now behold, the light of your Majesty’s countenance, O attraction of the world!” The Shah gave a nod of applause, which was taken up in a buzz of approbation by the pillars of the state, and evinced the royal and ministerial gratification. “But,” continued the King, “what city did you most admire?” I required a precise answer after such adulation. I told him that Cabool was the paradise of our travels. He asked particularly for Balkh, and the modern condition of that “Am ool bulad,” or mother of cities.

“You were presented to the Prince-royal,” said the King; “And I received much condescension at his Royal Highness’s hands,” replied I; “he sent me with a Khan through the country of the Toorkmuns.” “Tell me what you say of Koochan;”—which gave me an opportunity of delighting the old monarch with the detail of his son’s success, heightened by the formidable account which I gave of the strength of the fallen fortress. “Will the ‘Naib Sultanut,’” so he called Abbas Meerza, “be able to take Shurukhs, and reduce the Toorkmuns in that neighbourhood?” “Certainly,” replied I, “they will fall at his feet.” “Will the place support his army?” I then enumerated its resources. One of the ministers, by way of adding to the information desiderated by his Majesty, stated that Shurukhs was the garden of Adam, who used to come from Ceylon (Serendib) and till it daily! I had heard the tradition, but it had not entered into my statistical details for his Majesty’s information. “What is your opinion of my son’s army,—is it efficient?” I assured his Majesty that it was so. “But tell me your most candid opinion of its merits.” I added, that the clothes and accoutrements of the troops were worn out, but that no Asiatic power could in these days resist such an armament, and that they were now flushed with success. His Majesty again returned to my own affairs, and asked whither I was now proceeding. I told him, to India. He made no further enquiries into my objects for travelling. “How did you travel in Toorkistan?” asked the Shah. I told him that my conveyance was a camel, at which he smiled. After some desultory conversation and complimentary speeches between the Shah and the Envoy, we left the presence of the King of kings with the same bows and ceremonies that we had approached it.

Futtih Ali Shah has by no means the appearance of an old man, though his age must be upwards of seventy. His voice is full and sonorous, and he sits erect, with much dignity. His dress was remarkably plain, and of black cloth, which was not becoming, nor did it show off to advantage his beard, that wonder of the East. I should not be surprized that this monarch outlived his son Abbas.[18] It is said, that he has recourse to the essence of pearls and precious stones, which he uses as tonics, to support his declining strength, and in which the Oriental faculty have great faith. The moderns apply these gems to other purposes; and the Shah of Persia deserves some credit as being one of the only persons I have heard of who turns them to a useful purpose.

Return to India.

I now found myself poised between Europe and Asia; and though I had informed his Majesty that I purposed returning to India, I had every inclination to prosecute my way to Constantinople, now distant but twenty days’ journey. Would that I had followed the bent of my inclinations; since I afterwards found that I had been summoned to Europe from that city. I felt, however, that the objects of the journey had been accomplished, and it only remained for me to return to India, and arrange the materials which I had gathered. I therefore quitted Tehran on the 1st of November, and freely admit that I did so with regret, after a ten days’ enjoyment of the friendly society which I had met.

Route to the coast.

On my way to the coast, I took the route of Isfahan and Shiraz to Bushire, and viewed by the way the tomb of Cyrus, and those imperishable remnants of antiquity, the ruins of Persepolis. This route and country have been too often described to require even a passing remark; nor do I offer to present my views and picture of the inhabitants, after the inimitable sketches that have appeared in Hajee Baba, which, with a due deduction for the thread of the tale, appeared to me both just and correct. I have since perused Mr. Fraser’s Travels in this country, and venture to record, as far as I am able to judge, that they contain the most faithful account of Persia which has been published in modern times. Were the facts and opinions which have been recorded by that able and intelligent traveller more generally received, we should have ere this come to more correct notions of the weak state and tottering condition of this empire, and a juster appreciation of its weight and influence in the scale of nations.