Sir John Chardin was born at Paris on the 16th
of November, 1643. He was the son of a rich Protestant
jeweller, who, as soon as his education, which
appears to have been carefully conducted and liberal,
was completed, intrusted him with the management234
of a commercial speculation in the East, and thus at
once gratified and influenced the passion for visiting
new and remote regions which had already taken
possession of the mind of our traveller. Leaving
Paris at the age of twenty-two, he visited Hindostan
and Persia, where he remained several years, and
was appointed merchant to the king. His manly
but shrewd character, united with extensive knowledge
and great suavity of manners, procured him
numerous friends at the court of Ispahan, some
of whom filled important offices in the government,
and were thus enabled to lay open to him the interior
movements of the great political machine which he
afterward described with so much vigour and perspicuity.
He accompanied the shah on his visits to
various portions of his dominions, and in this way
was enabled to traverse with pleasure and advantage
the wilder and least accessible districts of Persia,
such as Mazenderan, Ghilan, and the other provinces
bordering on the Caspian Sea. Of this portion of
his life, however, he did not judge it necessary
to give any detailed account; perhaps because he
had afterward occasion to visit the same scenes,
when his mind was riper, his views more enlarged,
and his powers of observation and description sharpened
and invigorated by experience and habit.
Returning to France in 1670, he remained fifteen
months in the bosom of his family, and employed
this period of tranquillity and leisure in the composition
of his “History of the Coronation of Solyman
III., King of Persia;” a small work usually appended
to his account of his travels. The desire of fame
and distinction, however, which in youthful and ardent
minds is generally the ruling passion, urged him
once more to quit his native country, where, as he
himself observes, the religion in which he was educated
excluded him from all hope of advancement or
honours, in order to revisit those regions of the East
where his faith would be no bar to his ambition, and235
where commerce was not thought to degrade even
the majesty of kings.
Having collected together the jewels, gems, and
curious clocks and watches which he had been commissioned
to purchase for the King of Persia, he repaired
to Leghorn, where he embarked with his mercantile
companion for Smyrna. Owing to the unskilfulness
of the mariners, the variableness of the
winds, and the badness of the weather, this short
voyage was not performed in less than three months,
during which the passengers endured all the privation
and misery which such a voyage could inflict.
From Smyrna he proceeded to Constantinople, where,
through the aid of M. de Nointel, the ambassador of
France, he was initiated in all the mysteries of diplomacy,
which he unveils in his travels with infinite
skill and naïveté for the amusement of his readers.
In other respects his connexion with the French
ambassador was rather prejudicial than useful to
him; for M. de Nointel having conducted himself in
all his negotiations with the Turks in a puerile and
fluctuating manner, passing by turns from extreme
haughtiness to extreme cringing and servility, the
anger of the Porte was roused, and directed against
the whole French nation; and Chardin, when he became
desirous of departing, was denied a passport.
From this difficult and somewhat dangerous position
he was delivered by the ingenuity of a Greek, who
contrived to procure him a passage to Azoph, on the
Palus Mæotis, on board of a Turkish vessel then
about to set sail with the new commandant and fresh
troops which the Porte sent every year to that remote
fortress. The Black Sea, which receives its
appellation from the gloomy clouds and tempestuous
winds which hover over and vex its waters in almost
every season of the year, was now to be traversed;
and considering the unskilfulness and apathy of
Turkish sailors, who creep timidly along the shore,
and have little knowledge of the use of the compass,236
our traveller was not without his apprehensions.
After a voyage of eight days, however, they arrived
at Caffa, in the Crimea, where, by the help of the
Greek friend who had enabled him to laugh at the
sultan’s beard and embark without a passport, he
eluded the exorbitant demands of the custom-house,
and transported his merchandise on board another
vessel bound for Mingrelia.
Setting sail from Caffa, where there was little to
be seen but stinking Tartars and caviare, they arrived
in twenty-four hours at Touzlah, or the Salt
Marshes, a vast sweep of low shore, alternately
covered by the waters of the sea, artificially introduced,
and a white saline crust, looking like a sheet
of snow from a distance. Here upwards of two hundred
ships are annually freighted with salt; and it was
for the purpose of taking on board a cargo of this
useful merchandise that the vessel in which Chardin
and his companion were embarked now touched at
the place. On landing, the village was found to consist
of about ten or twelve houses, with a small
mosque, and a considerable number of felt-covered
tents, which served for stables, kitchens, and dormitories
for the slaves. Salt was by no means the
only article of commerce obtained at this place.
Every morning fires were observed lighted along the
shore, as signals that the brigands of the country
had laid violent hands upon a number of their fellow-creatures,
and had them conveyed thither, chained
together like cattle, for sale. These fires being observed,
boats were immediately sent on shore; and
when they returned, crowds of women and children,
half-naked, or covered with rags and filth, but resplendent
with beauty, were hoisted on board, where
their wretched apparel was exchanged for clean neat
garments, and where, perhaps, for the first time in
their lives they tasted bread. The men and boys
were chained two and two every night; the women,
from whom no danger was apprehended, were permitted237
the free use of their limbs. These Circassians
did not fetch a great price. A Greek merchant,
whose cabin was contiguous to that of Chardin,
purchased for twelve crowns a woman of extraordinary
beauty, with an infant at the breast. What
chiefly surprised our traveller in the circumstances
of this affair was, the coolness and serenity with
which these honest people submitted to their fate.
Had not the women, much against their will, been
compelled to occupy themselves with needlework,
and the men with such little matters as they could
perform on board, they would have been perfectly
happy. Idleness was their summum bonum; and this
the most beautiful among the women knew they
were about to enjoy in the harems of Turkey.
On arriving at Isgaour, in Mingrelia, the place
where the general market of the country is held,
Chardin naturally expected to find human dwellings,
with provisions, and such other necessaries as in
civilized countries are everywhere attainable for
money. In this hope he went on shore, accompanied
by the Greek merchant, who had hitherto been
in a manner his guardian angel; but on entering the
place, they indeed found two long rows of huts formed
of the branches of trees, where merchandise and provisions
had once been exposed for sale, but now
empty and deserted. In the vicinity of the place
neither house nor habitation appeared as far as the
eye could reach. Two or three peasants, however,
who flitted about like spectres among the deserted
huts, engaged to bring on the morrow a quantity of
that species of grain called gom, which is bruised,
boiled, and eaten instead of bread, together with
wine and other provisions. There being no alternative,
they were compelled to rely on the promises
of these men, as they were nearly in want of every
necessary of life; but their presents failing them, it
became necessary to dissemble with his servants,
who already began to murmur aloud and curse the238
persons by whose advice he had taken the route of
the Black Sea, relying for the future upon the bounty
of Providence. The reason why the market of Isgaour
was thus deserted was, that the Abcas, a
neighbouring people of savage character and barbarous
manners, having made an irruption into the
country, were now ravaging it with fire and sword,
while the peasantry and their lords were flying before
them in dismay, or plunging for refuge into the
deepest recesses of their forests. Ten days after
their arrival these savages passed along the shore
in search of plunder; and finding none in this celebrated
market, set the huts on fire and reduced them
to ashes.
In this dilemma, Chardin had much difficulty in
determining what course to take. He had immediately
on landing applied for aid to the Catholic missionaries
of Colchis, the chief of whom promised in
reply to be with him by a certain day, but failed in
his engagement; and when after a second application
he repaired to the place of rendezvous, it was
less with the design of forwarding our traveller’s
views than of dissuading him from attempting the
journey at all. Perceiving, however, that his advice
could not be followed, he rendered the travellers
every service in his power with alacrity, but without
in the least concealing the magnitude of the danger
they were about to incur.
It was now the beginning of October, and Chardin,
irritated at the numerous obstacles and hinderances
which had impeded his progress, was so extremely
impatient to be in Persia that no dangers appeared to
him so terrible as delay. He had very soon cause to
repent his impetuosity. The evils he had hitherto
endured dwindled to nothing when compared with
those which now rushed upon him like a torrent, and
threatened to swallow up in a moment his wealth,
his ambitious projects, and his life. Nevertheless,
with that unshrinking courage which his total ignorance239
of the future and the pressure of present evils
bestows upon man, he hastened to put his foot upon
the shores of Mingrelia; and embarking with all his
merchandise on board the felucca in which the monk
had arrived, set sail for Anarghia, where they next
day arrived. Here his followers made themselves
ample amends for the scarcity they had endured at
Isgaour; for poultry, wild pigeons, pork, goats’ flesh,
wine, and other provisions were abundant and cheap.
After remaining nine days at Anarghia, they departed
on the 14th, two hours before day, and having
sailed about six miles up the river, disembarked
their merchandise and provisions, with which they
loaded eight small vehicles, and proceeded on their
journey by land. The report that a party of Europeans
were passing with incalculable riches through
the country was soon spread; and as few rich travellers
ever traversed Mingrelia, this rumour immediately
inflamed to the highest degree the cupidity
of the hungry prince and his feudatories, who forthwith
formed the design of appropriating these treasures
to themselves. They arrived, however, on the
evening of the same day at Sipias, the residence of
the missionaries, where they proposed to remain a
few days in order to prepare themselves by a little
repose for the fatigues which were to come, as well
as to deliberate with the monks respecting the
means of escaping from the rapacity of the rulers
of Mingrelia.
Four days after his arrival, the princess, or queen,
as she termed herself, of Mingrelia, came to Sipias
to visit our traveller, attracted by the rumours of his
wealth, as vultures are attracted by the scent of a
carcass. Her majesty was followed by a train of
eight women and ten men, to all of whom a decent
suit of clothes and a tolerable beast to ride on would
have been a welcome present, for they were very
badly mounted and meanly clad. In order to ward
off, as far as possible, the dangerous reputation of240
being rich, which is elsewhere so much coveted, our
travellers endeavoured to pass for Capuchin friars,
and pretended that the baggage with which their
vehicles were loaded consisted entirely of books.
The princess believed neither of these stories. Being
informed that Chardin understood Turkish and
Persian, she tormented him, by means of a slave
who could speak the former language, with a thousand
questions, of which the greater number turned
upon the subject of love. After pushing these questions
beyond the verge of decency, to the great
amusement of her suite, who appeared to be more
delighted in proportion as her majesty became more
obscene, she suddenly turned to a still more embarrassing
topic—demanding to examine the effects of
our traveller, and the stores of the monks. They
all now trembled for their property. Whatever she
should have seen would have been lost. To allay
her cupidity, therefore, and at least put off the evil
day, the principal monk humbly informed her that
the usual present should be sent on the morrow,
accompanied by another from the travellers. With
this assurance she appeared to be satisfied, and departed.
On the next day our traveller and two of the
monks were invited to dine with the princess, and
were of course careful not to present themselves
before her empty-handed, it being a crime in the
East for an inferior to come into the presence of his
superior without some gift, in token of dependence
and homage. Her highness of Mingrelia, who had
painted her face and adorned her person to the best
of her ability, in order to appear to advantage in the
eyes of the traveller, seemed to be highly gratified
with his present, which, though tasteful and elegant,
was of small value, the better to maintain a show of
poverty. Some ten or twelve ragged but merry-looking
wenches, and a crowd of half-naked ragamuffins,
constituted the court of this princess, her241
maids of honour having, as she assured the traveller,
taken refuge in a neighbouring fortress on account
of the war! The better to enjoy the pleasure of
tormenting M. Chardin, she caused him to sit near
her, and commenced her attack by observing, that
it was her will and pleasure that he should marry
one of her friends, and settle in the country, when
she promised to bestow on him houses, lands, slaves,
and subjects. From all he had heard and seen of
the women of Mingrelia, our traveller would have
felt less repugnance to marrying a vampire than
one of them, beautiful as they were; so that the
bare possibility of the thing made him shudder. He
was for the present delivered from the discussion
of this painful topic by the appearance of dinner,
during which the princess inflamed her naturally
ardent temperament by copious libations of wine,
which stifled whatever remains of shame might
have lingered in her soul, and impelled her to exhibit
all the importunity and effrontery of a courtesan.
The menaces of this princess, who gave them
clearly to understand that she had determined upon
visiting the monastery, for the purpose of examining
their treasures, caused them to return dejected and
melancholy from the castle, the monks apprehending
new extortions and vexations, and Chardin the
loss of all he possessed. The remainder of the day
was passed in deliberating upon the present posture
of affairs, and it was at length resolved, that as soon
as it was night, pits should be dug, and the most
valuable portion of their merchandise buried in the
earth. Accordingly, the sun had no sooner set behind
the mountains, than they commenced operations,
first digging a pit five feet deep in the apartments
of one of the monks, where they buried a
large chest filled with watches and clocks set with
jewels. When this had been done, and the earth
smoothed over, and made to appear as before, they
repaired under cover of the darkness to the church,242
where the principal monk advised our traveller to
open the grave of one of the brotherhood, who had
been interred there some six years before, and deposite
among his ashes a small casket filled with the
most costly gems of the East, designed for the princesses
and great ladies of Persia. A secret presentiment
prevented Chardin from following this
advice, who selected in preference an obscure corner
of the church, where accordingly a pit was sunk,
and the casket carefully interred. Other costly
articles, as a sabre and poniard set with jewels, were
concealed in the roof of the monastery; and such
articles of great value as were small and portable
our travellers retained about their persons.
Many days had not elapsed before they were convinced
that their fears were not without foundation.
It was now Sunday, and Chardin, in offering up his
prayers to God, according to custom, would not
presume, he says, to petition his Maker for freedom,
so persuaded was he that slavery was to be his fate;
he merely prayed for a mild master, and to be delivered
from a Mingrelian wife. While the classical
idea of Medea was haunting his imagination, and
disturbing his devotion, a person came running in,
exclaiming that two neighbouring chiefs, with a
band of followers, armed to the teeth, were knocking
at the outer gate, and demanding admittance. There
being no alternative, they were allowed to enter,
which they had no sooner done than they seized
and bound the travellers, commanded the monks to
retire, and threatened to put to death the first person
who should make the least stir or resistance.
The principal friar was terrified and fled; but the
rest stood firmly by their guests, particularly the
lay-brother, whom not even a naked sword pointed
at his throat could induce to abandon them. When
the bandits proceeded to bind their servants, one of
the latter, who had a large knife in his hand, endeavouring
to defend himself, was instantaneously243
struck to the earth with a lance, bound hand and
foot, and fastened to a tree. This being done, the
ruffians informed the travellers that they wished to
examine their effects. Chardin replied that it was
within their power; that they were but poor monks,
whose whole wealth consisted in books, papers, and
a few wretched garments, the whole of which, if
they would abstain from violence, should be shown
them. Upon this he was unbound, and commanded
to open the door of their apartment, where their
books, papers, and wardrobe were kept. Chardin’s
companion had sewn the most valuable of his jewels
in the collar of his coat; but our traveller himself
had made two small packets of his, which were
sealed, and put among his books, not daring to carry
them about him lest he should be assassinated,
stripped, or sold for a slave. In order to gain a moment
to withdraw these packets, he requested his
companion and the lay-brother to hold the chiefs in
conversation, by pretending to negotiate with them,
and offering them a small sum of money. The
stratagem succeeding for an instant, he darted upstairs,
their apartment being on the first floor, entered
the chamber, and locked the door. His design
was suspected, and the whole band of ruffians rushed
up after him; but the door being somewhat difficult
to be broken open, he had time to take out his
packets and conceal them in the roof of the house.
His companion, however, who was in the room
below, called out to him that he ought to be on his
guard, for that he was observed through the cracks
in the floor. Upon hearing this, and seeing that the
door was giving way, he became confused, and
scarcely knowing what he did, took down the jewels
out of the roof, thrust them into his pocket, and
opening the window of the apartment, jumped out
into the garden. Without noticing whether he was
watched or not, he threw the packets into a thicket,
and then hastened back to the room, now filled with244
robbers, some of whom were maltreating his companion,
while others were battering his coffers with
their spears or lances, in order to break them open.
He now plucked up his courage, imagining that
the greater part of his wealth was out of their reach,
and bid them take heed of what they did; that he
was the envoy of the King of Persia; and that the
Prince of Georgia would take ample vengeance for
whatever violence might be offered to his person.
He then showed them his passport from the king.
One of the chiefs snatched it out of his hand, and
was about to tear it in pieces, saying that he neither
feared nor regarded any man upon earth; but the
other, awed by the royal seal and letters of gold,
restrained him. They now said, that if he would
open his coffers and allow them to examine his
effects, no violence should be offered him; but that
if he refused any longer, they would strike off his
head from his shoulders. He was still proceeding
to contest the point, when one of the soldiers, impatient
to proceed to business, drew his sword, and
aimed a blow at his head, which would have cleft it
in twain, had not the villain’s arm been instantaneously
arrested by the lay-brother. Perceiving the
kind of arguments they were disposed to employ,
he unlocked his chests, which in the twinkling of an
eye were rummaged to the bottom, while every
thing which appeared to possess any value was
taken away. Turning his eyes from this painful
scene towards the garden, he perceived two soldiers
searching among the bushes in the very spot where
he had thrown his jewels; and rushing towards
them, followed by one of the monks, they retired.
He then, without reflecting upon the extreme imprudence
of his conduct, began himself to search
about for the packets, but not being able to discover
them, he supposed the soldiers had found and carried
them off. As their value was little less than
ten thousand pounds, the loss fell upon him like a245
thunderbolt. Nevertheless, there was no time for
sorrowing. His companion and the lay-brother
were loudly calling him from the house. He therefore
tore himself away from the spot. In returning
towards the house, two soldiers fell upon him,
dragged him up into a corner, and after clearing his
pockets of all they contained, were about to bind
him and hurry him off; but after much resistance
and expostulation, they released him, and shortly
afterward the whole troop retired from the monastery.
The robber chiefs and their followers had no
sooner departed, than Chardin again repaired to the
garden, and was sorrowfully prying about the thickets
where he had concealed his jewels, when a man
cast his arms about his neck, and threw him into
more violent terror than ever. He had no doubt it
was a Mingrelian, who was about to cut his throat.
The next moment, however, he recognised the voice
of his faithful Armenian valet, who, in accents broken
by sobs, and with eyes overflowing with tears, exclaimed,
“Ah, sir, we are ruined!” Chardin, strongly
moved by this proof of his affection, bade him restrain
his tears. “But, sir,” said he, “have you
searched the place carefully?”—“So carefully,” replied
the traveller, “that I am convinced all further
search would be so much labour lost.” This did not
satisfy the Armenian. He wished to be informed
exactly respecting the spot where the traveller had
thrown the jewels; the manner in which he had
cast them into the thicket; and the way in which
he had sought for them. To oblige him, Chardin
did what he desired, but was so thoroughly persuaded
that all further search was useless, that he
refused to remain upon the spot, and went away,
overwhelmed with grief and vexation. How long
he remained in this state of stupefaction he could
not tell; he was roused from it, however, by the
presence of the Armenian, who, approaching him in246
the dark, for it was now night, once more threw
himself about his neck, and thrust the two packets
of jewels into his bosom.
By the advice of the monks, Chardin next morning
proceeded to the prince’s castle, to relate his
griefs, and demand justice; but all he gained by this
expedition was, the thorough conviction that his
highness was as arrant a thief as his subjects, and
had shared the fruits of the robbery, which was
apparently undertaken by his orders. This discovery,
however, was important; it opened his eyes
to the true character of the country; and taught him
that in Mingrelia, at least, the man who put his trust
in princes was a fool. In the course of two days,
to give the finishing stroke to their misfortune, they
learned that the Turks, irritated at the insolence and
rapacity of its chief, had made an irruption into the
country, were laying it waste with fire and sword
on all sides, and had already approached to within
a short distance of Sipias. At midnight, two cannon-shots
from the neighbouring fortress of Ruchs
announced the approach of the enemy, and the peasants,
with their wives, children, and flocks, immediately
took to flight, and before dawn the whole
population was in motion. Our traveller, whose
companion, excited and irritated by the preceding
untoward events, was now ill, fled among the rest,
leaving behind him his books, papers, and mathematical
instruments, which he hoped the ignorance
of both Turks and Mingrelians would protect. His
buried wealth he also left where it was, and, considering
the complexion of events, regarded as much
safer than what he carried with him.
The sight of this whole people, suddenly thrown
into rapid flight, was sufficiently melancholy. The
women bore along their children in their arms, the
men carried the baggage. Some drove along their
cattle before them, while others yoked themselves
like oxen to the carts in which their furniture was247
loaded, and being unable long to continue their extraordinary
exertions, sunk down exhausted and
dying on the road. Here and there, along the wayside,
groups of old people, or very young children,
implored the aid of those whose strength had not
yet failed, with the most heart-rending cries and
groans. At another moment the spectacle would
have caused the most painful emotions, but it was
now beheld with the utmost indifference. The idea
of danger having swallowed up every other, they
hurried by these miserable deserted creatures without
pity or commiseration.
The castle in which they now took refuge belonged
to a chief who had been a double renegade, having
deserted Christianity for Mohammedanism, and Mohammedanism
for Christianity; notwithstanding
which, he was supposed to be a less atrocious brigand
than his neighbours. He received the fugitives
politely, and assigned them for their lodgings an
apartment where they were somewhat less exposed
to the weather than in the woods, though the rain
found its way in on all sides. The castle, however,
was already crowded with people, eight hundred
persons, of whom the majority were women and
children, having taken refuge in it, and others still
more destitute and miserable arriving every moment.
Next day one of the missionaries returned to the
monastery, for the purpose of bringing away, if possible,
such plate and provisions as had been left behind:
but he found that place in possession of the
Turks, who beat him severely, and carried away
whatever was portable in the house. The night
following, a Mingrelian chief, more barbarous and
destructive than the Turks, sacked the monastery a
third time, and having no torches or flambeaux to
light him in his depredations, made a bonfire of our
traveller’s books and papers, and reduced the whole
to ashes. The chief in whose castle they had taken248
refuge, being summoned to surrender by the Turkish
pasha, and perceiving the absurdity of pretending to
measure his strength with that of the enemy, consented
to take the oath of allegiance to the Porte,
and, what was equally important, to make a handsome
present to its agent. This present was to
consist of three hundred crowns in money, and
twenty young slaves, which the wretch determined
to levy from the unfortunate creatures who had
thrown themselves upon his protection, confiding in
the sacred laws of hospitality. Among Mingrelians,
however, there is nothing sacred. Every family
possessing four children was compelled to give up
one of the number to be transported into Turkey as a
slave; but it was found necessary to tear away the
children from the arms of their mothers, who grasped
them convulsively, pressed them to their bosoms,
and yielded only to irresistible violence. Instead
of twenty children, the chief forced away twenty-five,
selling the additional number for his own profit;
and instead of three hundred crowns, he extorted
five hundred. Providence, however, compelled him
and his family to devour their share of grief. The
pasha peremptorily demanded one of his sons as a
hostage, and as he and his wives beheld the youngest
of their boys depart into endless captivity for the
hostage, delivered up to the Porte never to return,
they had an opportunity of tasting a sample of the
bitterness they had administered to others. Chardin,
who had neither wife nor children to lose, was
taxed at twenty crowns.
Perceiving that the state of the country verged
more and more every day upon utter anarchy and
confusion, our traveller came to the resolution of departing
at all hazards for Georgia, to demand its
prince’s aid in withdrawing his property from Mingrelia.
His companion remained to watch over it
in his absence. Not being able to procure either
guards or guides from among the natives, for with249
all their misery there is no people who fear death or
danger more than the Mingrelians, he was constrained
to set out with a single domestic, who, as
fate would have it, was the most consummate scoundrel
in his service. On the way to Anarghia, where
he was once more to embark on the Black Sea, he
learned that the church in which he had deposited
his wealth had been sacked and stripped to the
bare walls, that the very graves had been opened,
and every vestige of property removed. Here was
a new source of anguish. It was now a question
whether he was a rich or a poor man. He paused
in his journey—sent off an express to his companion—the
ruins of the church were visited—and their
money found to be untouched. This circumstance,
he informs us, marvellously exalted his courage, and
he proceeded with fresh vigour on his new enterprise.
Embarking in a felucca at Anarghia, in company
with several Turks and their slaves, he sailed along
the south-eastern coast of the Black Sea, passed by
the mouth of the Phasis, the site of Sebaste, and
many other spots redolent of classical fame, and in
three days arrived at Gonia in the country of the
Lazii. Here the character of his valet began to
develop itself. Repairing as soon as they had landed
to the custom-house, leaving his master to manage
for himself, the vagabond imparted to the authorities
his conjectures respecting the real condition of the
traveller, and thus at once awakened their vigilance
and cupidity. His effects were in consequence
rigorously examined, and the dues exacted from him,
which were heavy, perhaps extortionate, no doubt
enabled the custom-house officers to reward the
treachery of his servant. When these matters had
been settled, the principal officer, who, after all, was
a man of humane disposition and tolerably just
principles, made Chardin an offer of an apartment
in his house, where he invited, nay, even entreated
him to pass the night; but having already suffered250
from what he regarded as his rapacity, the traveller
dreaded some new act of extortion, and obstinately
refused his hospitality. He very soon repented this
false step. It being nearly night, he proceeded, on
quitting the custom-house, to the inn, or rather
hovel, whither his valet had directed his effects to
be conveyed after examination. Here he was sitting
down, fatigued and dejected, disgusted with dirt and
stench, and listening to the condolences of his Turkish
travelling companions, when a janizary from the
lieutenant of the commandant, the chief being absent,
entered in search of his valet, with whom that important
personage was desirous of holding a conference.
In another hour the presence of the traveller
himself was required; and when, in obedience
to authority, he repaired to the fort, he found both
the lieutenant and his own graceless servant drunk,
and began to perceive that a plan for pillaging him
had been concerted. The lieutenant now informed
him, with as much gravity as the prodigious quantity
of wine he had taken would permit, that all
ecclesiastics who passed through Gonia were accustomed
to pay two hundred ducats to his superior;
and that he, therefore, as a member of that profession,
for Chardin had thought proper to pass for a
Capuchin, must deposite that sum in his hands for
the commandant. It was in vain that the traveller
now denied all claim to the clerical character, and
acknowledged himself to be a merchant; merchant
or priest, it was all the same to the lieutenant; what
he wanted was the two hundred ducats, which, after
much altercation, were reduced to one hundred; but
this M. Chardin was compelled to pay, or submit to
the punishment of the carcan, a species of portable
stocks, through which the offender’s head is put
instead of his feet. The worst feature, however,
of the whole affair was, that the drunken officer took
it into his head to cause the present thus extorted
to appear to be a voluntary gift; and again having251
recourse to menaces, which he was prepared to execute
upon the spot, he forced the traveller to make
oath on the Gospel that he bestowed the money
freely, and would disclose the real nature of the
transaction to no one. This being done, he was
allowed to retire.
Next morning the custom-house officer, who, in
inviting him to pass the night in his house, had intended
to protect him from this species of robbery,
furnished him with a guide, and two men to carry
his luggage; and with this escort, in addition to his
hopeful valet, he departed for Akalziké. The road
at first lay through a plain, but at length began to
ascend, and pierce the defiles of the Caucasus; and as
he climbed higher and higher among the precipitous
and dizzy heights of this sublime mountain, among
whose many peaks the ark is supposed to have first
taken ground after the deluge, and from whence the
stream of population flowed forth and overspread the
world with a flood of life, he felt the cares, solicitudes,
and sorrows which for many months had fed, as it
were, upon his heart, take wing, and a healing and
invigorating influence spread an exquisite calm over
his sensations. This singular tranquillity, which he
experienced on first reaching these lofty regions, still
continued as he advanced, notwithstanding the rain,
the hail, and the snow which were poured on him by
the tempest as he passed; and in such a frame of
mind he attained the opposite side of the mountain,
upon whose folding slopes he beheld numerous
villages, castles, and churches, picturesquely scattered
about, and at length descended into a broad
and beautiful valley, cultivated with the greatest
care, and fertilized by the waters of the Kur.
Arriving without accident or adventure at Akalziké,
and remaining there four days to repose himself, he
departed for Georgia. The route now presented
nothing extraordinary. A castle or a ruin, picturesquely
perched upon the crest of a rocky eminence,252
a church, or a village, or a forest—such were the objects
which met the eye. He at length reached the
Capuchin convent in the vicinity of Gory, whence,
after mature consultation with the monks, who, for
strangers, entered with extraordinary earnestness
into his views, he set out, accompanied by a lay-brother
of the order, for Tiflis, partly with the design
of demanding aid from the Prince of Georgia, and
partly to obtain the advice of the principal missionary
respecting the steps he ought to take in order to deliver
his partner and property from the avaricious
hands of the Mingrelians. The opinion of the monks
was, that since the Prince of Georgia entertained
rather loose notions respecting his allegiance to the
King of Persia, whose servant Chardin was to be
considered, and, like all petty potentates, was possessed
by extreme cupidity and laxity of principle,
there would in all probability be as much danger in
being aided by him, as in depending on the uncertain
will of fortune and his own prudence and ingenuity;
that he ought to return secretly to Mingrelia; and
that, for the greater chance of success, he should take
with him one of the brotherhood, who was deeply
versed in the small politics of those countries; and
a native dependent on the monastery, who had been
a thousand times in Mingrelia.
With these able coadjutors he returned once more
into the country of Media, whence, after incredible
difficulties and very considerable danger, he succeeded
in rescuing his property. On his return to
Tiflis he calculated, with the aid of his companion,
the losses they had sustained during the journey
from Constantinople to Georgia, and found that, by
great good fortune, it did not exceed one per cent.
upon the merchandise they had succeeded in conveying
safe and entire to that city. He now tasted
of that delight which springs up in the mind after
dangers escaped and difficulties overcome; and commenced
the pleasing task of studying the manners253
of a people among whom, however impure and depraved
might be their morals, a stranger had little
to fear. The beauty of the women, he found, was
so irresistible in Georgia, and their manners so
graceful and bewitching, that it was impossible to
behold them without love; but the depravity of their
morals, and the blackness and perfidy of their souls,
exceeded, if possible, the perfection of their forms,
and rendered them as odious to the mind as they
were pleasing to the eye.
After remaining a short time at Tiflis, and going
through the usual routine of giving and receiving
presents, &c., he departed for Armenia. Being now
accompanied by a mehmandar, or guest-guard, he
proceeded without obstacle or extortion; this officer
taking upon himself the care of adjusting matters
with the custom-houses, and of providing horses,
carriage, and provisions on the way. Though in so
low a latitude, the whole face of the country was
still covered with snow in March, and it was with
much difficulty that they proceeded over the narrow
pathways made by the few travellers who were compelled
to traverse the country at such a season. To
guard against the reflection of the sun’s rays from
the snow, which weakened the sight, and caused a
burning heat in the face, our traveller wore a handkerchief
of green or black silk tied across the eyes,
after the manner of the inhabitants, though this
merely diminished, but could not altogether prevent
the evil. Whenever they met any travellers moving
in a contrary direction, they had to dispute who
should yield up the narrow path, upon which two
horses could not pass each other, and go out into
the soft snow, in which the animals instantly sunk up
to their bellies; but in the end every one yielded the
preference to the mehmandar. Creeping along in
this manner through the cold, they arrived at Eryvan
on the 7th of March.
Being now in a country where civilization had254
made some progress, Chardin took lodgings in a
caravansary, and was provided abundantly with the
necessaries of life by the bounty of the governor,
who, no doubt, expected that his civilities would be
remembered when he should come in the sequel to
bargain for a portion of the traveller’s jewels. In
the East it is an established rule that the natives
shall always take advantage of a stranger, sometimes
by force, at other times by cunning, but invariably
in some way or another. In Mingrelia our traveller
had to guard against force and violence; here against
wheedling, deceit, flattery, double-dealing, hypocrisy,
and meanness. In the former case, however, being
weak, it was necessary to evade or succumb; but
in the present, since ingenuity was the weapon on
both sides, there were more chances of success,
though it often appeared that plain honest good
sense is not always a match for practised cunning.
In the intervals of business the time was passed in
parties, dinners, and visits, which at least furnished
opportunities of studying the manners of the people.
Perceiving that the time of his departure was
drawing nigh, the governor came to the point at
which he had been steadily aiming all the while,
under cover of his hospitality and caresses, which
were put forward as so many stalking-horses, to
enable him to bring down his game with greater
certainty. Sending for Chardin to the palace, he
proceeded warily and stealthily to business, occasionally
shaking the dust of compliments and flattery
in the traveller’s eyes as he went along. He first
lamented the actual state of Persia, in which, reduced
by bad government and the malignant inclemency
of the seasons to a state bordering upon famine
and anarchy, there was of course little or no demand
for expensive articles of luxury; besides, even if
public affairs had been flourishing, and the royal
resources abundant, the present king had no taste
for jewelry; and that, therefore, there was no hope255
of disposing of costly precious stones at the court
of Ispahan. From this preliminary discourse, which
was meant to diminish in the traveller’s eyes the
value of his merchandise, though in reality the picture
was correct, the governor passed at once to the
genuine object of his oration, and made an offer to
purchase a part of the jewels. His conduct on this
occasion was a masterpiece of mercantile skill, and
he succeeded, by holding out the hope of more important
purchases in the sequel, in getting every
thing he really intended to buy at a very cheap rate.
When his object was gained, he closed the negotiation
in the coolest manner in the world, by returning
the large quantity of jewels which he had caused to
be sent to his palace, as if he had intended to bargain
for them all; and the traveller now perceived that
the wily Persian had made a dupe of him. As all
manifestations of discontent, however, would have
been altogether useless, he affected to be extremely
well pleased at his bad luck, and retired to his
caravansary, cursing all the way the talents and
aptitude of the governor of Eryvan for business and
cheating.
On the 8th of April he departed from the capital
of Armenia, and travelling for several days through
level and fertile plains, interspersed with churches
and villages, arrived at Nacchivan, a city formerly
celebrated, and of great antiquity, but now in ruins.
From hence he proceeded, etymologizing and making
researches as he moved along, towards Tabriz,
where he arrived on the 17th. At this city, then the
second in Persia in rank, riches, and population, he
took up his quarters at the Capuchin convent, where
he was visited by several of the nobles of the place,
on account of his jewelry, the fame of which flew
before him on the road, and like a pioneer smoothed
and laid level his passage into Persia. In proceeding
southward from Tabriz he had to traverse the
plains of Aderbijān, the ancient Media, which being256
covered at this season of the year by tribes of
Koords, Saraneshins, and Turcomans, all striking
their tents, and putting themselves in motion for
their summer emigration to the mountains, could
not be crossed by a stranger without considerable
danger. He was therefore counselled to defer his
departure for a few days, when he would have the
advantage of travelling in the company of a Persian
nobleman, whose presence would be a sufficient protection.
He adopted this advice, and in less than a
week set out under the safeguard of his noble escort,
and crossed those rich and beautiful plains, which
afford the best pasturage in the world, and where,
accordingly, the ancient kings of Media kept their
prodigious studs, which sometimes consisted of fifty
thousand horses. The ancients relate, that the
horses of Nysa, which must be sought for in these
plains, were all cream-coloured; but the nobleman
who accompanied Chardin had never read or heard
of any part of Persia where horses of that colour
were produced.
In his journey through Media he saw on the side
of the road circles of huge stones, like those of
Stonehenge, and the Dolmens of Normandy and
Brittany, which, according to the traditions of the
Persians, were placed there by the Kaous, or giants,
who formerly held possession of those regions. The
same superstitions, the same fables, the same wild
belief in the enormous strength and stature of past
generations, prevail, we see, throughout the world,
because the desires, faculties, and passions of the
mind are everywhere the same.
It was now June, and instead of disputing with
those they met on the road the possession of a narrow
snow-track, they were compelled to travel by
night to avoid the scorching heat of the sun. They
usually set out about two hours before sunset, and
when day had entirely disappeared, the stars, which
in the clear blue atmosphere of Persia yield a strong257
brilliant light, agreeably supplied its place, and
enabled them to proceed from caravansary to caravansary
with facility. At every step historical associations
crowded upon the traveller’s mind. The
dust which was thrown up into a cloud by the hoof
of his camel, and the stones over which he stumbled
in the darkness, were the dust and the wrecks of
heroes and mighty cities, crumbled by time, and
whirled about by the breath of oblivion. Cyrus and
Alexander, khalifs, khans, and sultans, had fought,
conquered, or perished on those plains. Vast cities
had risen, flourished, and vanished like a dream. A
few days before his arrival at Kom he passed at a
little distance the ruins of Rhe, a city scarcely less
vast in its dimensions, or less magnificent or populous
than Babylon, but now deserted, and become
so unhealthy in consequence, that, according to a
Persian poet, the very angel of death retired from
it on account of the badness of the air.
On his arrival at Koms, after escaping from the
storms of the Black Sea and the Mingrelians, Chardin
was nearly killed by the kick of a horse. He
escaped, however, and set out two days afterward
for Kashan, traversing fine fertile plains, covered
with villages. In this city, celebrated for its burning
climate and scorpions, he merely remained one day
to allow his horses a little repose, and then departed
and pushed on to Ispahan, where he arrived on the
23d of June.
Chardin was faithful to the Capuchin friars; for
whenever he passed through or visited a city in
which they possessed a convent, it was the first
place to which he repaired, and the last he quitted.
On the present occasion he took up his residence,
as usual, with these monks, at whose convent he
found on his arrival a bag of letters addressed to him
from various parts of the world: before he could
read the half of which, many of his Persian and
Armenian friends, whom he had known during his258
former residence, and all the Europeans of the city,
came to welcome him on his return to Ispahan.
From these he learned that the court, which had
undergone innumerable changes during his absence,
the greater number of those great men who had distinguished
themselves, or held any offices of trust under
the late king, being either dead or in disgrace, was
now in the utmost confusion, the persons who exercised
most influence in it being a set of young noblemen
without virtue, talents, or experience. And
what was still worse for Chardin, though not for
Persia, it was secretly whispered about that Sheïkh
Ali Khan, formerly prime minister, but now in disgrace,
was about to be restored to favour; in which
case our traveller anticipated great losses, as this
virtuous and inflexible man, whose great talents had
always been employed in the service of his country,
was an enemy to all lavish expenditure, and regarded
jewels and other costly toys as mere dross, unworthy
the attention of a sovereign prince.
Chardin perceived, therefore, that he had not a
moment to lose, it being of the highest importance
that his business with the king should be transacted
before Sheïkh Ali Khan should again be prime vizier;
but by whom he was to be introduced at court was
the question. The persons to whom he applied in
the first instance, at the same time that they willingly
consented to use their best efforts in his
favour, and counselled him not to despair, yet gave
so sombre a picture of the state of the court, and
threw out so many insinuations, indicating their
belief that the future would be still more unpropitious
than the present, that they succeeded in casting
a damp over his energies, and in dissipating or at
least blighting his hopes. Nevertheless, something
was to be done, and that quickly; and he determined,
that whatever might be the result, he would at all
events not fail through inattention or indolence.
While Chardin was labouring to put those springs259
in motion, the harmonious action of which was to
produce the fulfilment of his hopes, Sheïkh Ali
Khan suddenly entered into office. This event was
brought about in a strange manner. The king, during
one of those violent fits of intoxication to which
he was liable, and during which he acted more like
a wild beast than a man, had commanded the right
hand of a musician who was playing before him to
be struck off, and immediately fell asleep. The
person to whom the barbarous order was given,
imagining that all recollection of the matter would
pass away with the fumes of sleep, ventured to disobey;
but the king awaking, and finding the musician,
whom he expected to find mutilated and bleeding,
still touching the instrument, became so enraged,
that he gave orders for inflicting the same punishment
upon the disobedient favourite and the musician;
and finding that those around him still hesitated
to execute his brutal commands, his madness
rose to so ungovernable a pitch that he would probably
have had the arms and legs of all the court cut
off, had not Sheïkh Ali Khan, who fortunately happened
to be present, thrown himself at his feet, and
implored him to pardon the offenders. The tyrant,
now beginning to cool a little, replied, “You are a
bold man, to expect that I shall grant your request,
while you constantly refuse to resume, at my most
earnest entreaties, the office of prime minister!”—“Sire,”
replied Ali, “I am your slave, and will do
whatever your majesty shall command.” The king
was pacified, the culprits pardoned, and next morning
Sheïkh Ali Khan reassumed the government of
Persia.
The event dreaded by our traveller had now arrived,
and therefore the aspect of affairs was
changed. Nevertheless, not many days after this
event, he received an intimation from one of his
court friends, that is, persons purchased over by
presents, that the nazir, or chief intendant of the260
king’s household, having been informed of his arrival,
was desirous of seeing him, and had warmly
expressed his inclination to serve him with the
shah. Chardin, who understood from what motives
courtiers usually perform services, laid but small
stress upon his promises, but still hastened to present
himself at his levee, with a list of all the articles
of jewelry he had brought with him from
Europe, which the nazir immediately ordered to be
sent to him for the inspection of the king. A few
days afterward he was introduced to the terrible
grand vizier, Sheïkh Ali Khan himself, who, from
the mild and polished manner in which he received
our traveller, appeared extremely different from the
portraits which the courtiers and common fame
had drawn of him.
His whole fortune being now at stake, and depending
in a great measure upon the disposition of
the nazir and the conduct of the shah, Chardin was
unavoidably agitated by very painful and powerful
feelings, when he was suddenly summoned to repair
to the intendant’s palace, where the principal jewellers
of the city, Mohammedan, Armenian, and
Hindoo, had been assembled to pronounce upon the
real value of the various articles he had offered to
the king. He had not long entered before the
nazir ordered the whole of his jewels to be brought
forth, those which his majesty intended to purchase
being set apart in a large golden bowl of Chinese
workmanship. Chardin, observing that notwithstanding
the whole had been purchased or made
by order of the late king, not a fourth part had been
selected by his present majesty, felt as if he had
been stricken by a thunderbolt, and became pale
and rooted, as it were, to the spot. The nazir,
though a selfish and rapacious man, was touched by
his appearance, and leaning his head towards him,
observed, in a low voice, “You are vexed that the
king should have selected so small a portion of your261
jewels. I protest to you that I have taken more
pains than I ought to induce him to purchase the
whole, or at least the half of them; but I have not
been able to succeed, because the larger articles,
such as the sabre, the poniard, and the mirror, are
not made in the fashion which prevails in this country.
But keep up your spirits; you will still dispose
of them, if it please God.” The traveller, who
felt doubly vexed that his chagrin had been perceived,
made an effort to recover his composure,
but could not so completely succeed but that the
shadow, as it were, of his emotion still remained
upon his countenance.
However, pleased or displeased, it was necessary
to proceed to business. The shah’s principal jeweller
now placed before him the golden bowl containing
the articles selected by his majesty, and
beginning with the smaller pieces, asked the price
of them in a whisper; and then caused them to be
estimated by the other jewellers present, beginning
with the Mohammedans, and then passing on to the
Armenians and Hindoos. The merchants of Persia,
when conducting any bargain before company, never
make use of any words in stating the price to each
other; they make themselves understood with their
fingers, their hands meeting under a corner of their
robe, or a thick handkerchief, so that their movements
may be concealed. To close the hand of the
person with whom business is thus transacted
means a thousand; to take one finger of the open
hand, a hundred; to bend the finger in the middle,
fifty; and so on. This mode of bargaining is in
use throughout the East, and more particularly in
India, where no other is employed.
The value of the jewels being thus estimated, the
appraisers were dismissed, and the nazir, coming to
treat tête-à-tête with Chardin, succeeded so completely
in throwing a mist over his imagination, by
pretending to take a deep interest in his welfare,262
that he drew him into a snare, and in the course of
the negotiation, which lasted long, and was conducted
with infinite cunning on the part of the
Persian, caused him to lose a large portion of the
fruits of his courage and enterprise. Other negotiations
with various individuals followed, and in
the end Chardin succeeded in disposing of the whole
of his jewels.
These transactions closed with the year 1673.
In the beginning of the following, which was passed
in a devotional manner among the Protestants of
Ispahan, the traveller began to feel his locomotive
propensities revive; and an ambassador from Balkh,
then in the capital, happening to pay him a visit, so
wrought upon his imagination by his description of
his wild country, and gave him so many pressing
invitations to accompany him on his return, that,
had it not been for the counter-persuasion of friends,
Chardin would undoubtedly have extended his travels
to Tartary. This idea being relinquished, however,
he departed for the shores of the Persian Gulf,
a journey of some kind or other being necessary to
keep up the activity of both body and mind.
He accordingly departed from Ispahan in the
beginning of February, all the Europeans in the city
accompanying him as far as Bagh Koolloo, where
they ate a farewell dinner together. He then proceeded
on his journey, and in eleven days arrived
at the ruins of Persepolis, which he had twice
before visited, in order once more to compare his
ideas with the realities, and complete his description
of this celebrated spot. These magnificent ruins
are situated in one of the finest plains in the world;
and as you enter this plain from the north through
narrow gayas or between conical hills of vast height
and singular shape, you behold them standing in
front of a lofty ridge of mountains, which sweep
round in the form of a half-moon, flanking them on
both sides with its mighty horns. On two of these263
lofty eminences which protected the approaches to
the city, and which, when Persepolis was in all its
glory, so long resisted the fierce, impatient attacks
of Alexander, the ruins of ancient forts still subsisted
when Chardin was there; but, after having
travelled so far, principally for the purpose of examining
the ruins scattered around, he found the
hills too steep and lofty, and refused to ascend
them!
Having occupied several days in contemplating
the enormous ruins of temples and palaces existing
on the plain, our traveller descended into what
is called the Subterranean Temple; that is, a labyrinth
of canals or passages, hewn out in the solid
rock, turning, winding, and crossing each other in a
thousand places, and extending to an unknown distance
beneath the bases of the mountains. The
entrances and the exits of these dismal vaults are
unknown; but travellers and other curious persons
find their way in through rents made by time or by
earthquakes in the rock. Lighted candles, which
burned with difficulty in the heavy, humid air, were
placed at the distance of every fifty yards, as Chardin
and his companions advanced, particularly at
those points where numerous passages met, and
where, should a wrong path be taken, they might
have lost themselves for ever. Here and there they
observed heaps of bones or horns of animals; the
damp trickled down the sides of the rocks; the
bottom of the passages was moist and cold; respiration
grew more and more difficult every step;
they became giddy; an unaccountable horror seized
upon their minds; the attendant first, and then the
traveller himself, experienced a kind of panic terror;
and fearing that, should they much longer continue
to advance, they might never be able to return, they
hastened back towards the fissures through which
they had entered; and without having discovered
any thing but vaults which appeared to have no end,264
they emerged into daylight, like Æneas and his
companion from the mouth of hell.
Departing from the ruins of Persepolis on the
19th of February, he next day arrived at Shiraz,
where he amused himself for three days in contemplating
the waters of the Roknebad and the bowers
of Mosellay. In proceeding from this city to Bander-Abassi,
on the Persian Gulf, he had to pass over
Mount Jarron by the most difficult and dangerous
road in all Persia. At every step the travellers
found themselves suspended, as it were, over tremendous
precipices, divided from the abyss by a low
wall of loose stones, which every moment seemed
ready to roll of their own accord into the depths
below. The narrow road was blocked up at short
intervals by large fragments of rock, between which
it was necessary to squeeze themselves with much
pains and caution. However, they passed the mountain
without accident, and on the 12th of March
arrived at Bander-Abassi.
This celebrated port, from which insufferable heat
and a pestilential atmosphere banish the whole
population during summer, is at all times excessively
insalubrious, all strangers who settle there
dying in the course of a few years, and the inhabitants
themselves being already old at thirty. The
few persons who remain to keep guard over the
city during summer, at the risk of their lives, are
relieved every ten days; during which they suffer
sufficiently from the heat, the deluges of rain, and
the black and furious tempests which plough up
the waters of the gulf, and blow with irresistible
fury along the coast.
Though the eve of the season of death was drawing
near, Chardin found the inhabitants of Bander
in a gay humour, feasting, drinking, and elevating
their sentiments and rejoicing their hearts with the
heroic songs of Firdoosi. Into these amusements
our traveller entered with all his heart—the time265
flew by rapidly—the advent of fever and death was
come—and the ship which he expected from Surat
had not yet arrived. Talents and experience are
not always accompanied by prudence. Chardin
saw the whole population deserting the city; yet
he lingered, detained by the auri sacra fames, until
far in the month of May, and until, in fact, the seeds
of a malignant fever had been sown in his constitution.
Those uneasy sensations which are generally
the forerunners of sickness and death, united
with the representations of the physicians, at length
induced him to quit the place, his attendants being
already ill; but he had not proceeded many leagues
before a giddiness in the head and general debility
of body informed him that he had remained somewhat
too long at Bander.
Arriving on the 24th of May at Tangnedelan, a
place where there was not a single human being to
be found, he became delirious, and at last fell into
a fit from which his attendants had much difficulty
in recovering him. There happened, by great good
fortune, to be a French surgeon in his suite. This
surgeon, who was an able man in his profession, not
only took all possible care of our traveller during
his moments of delirium, but, what was of infinitely
greater importance, had the good sense to hurry
his departure from those deserted and fatal regions,
procuring from the neighbouring villages eight men,
who carried him in a litter made with canes and
branches of trees to Lâr. As soon as they had
reached this city, Chardin sent for the governor’s
physician, who, understanding that he was the
shah’s merchant, came to him immediately. Our
traveller was by this time so weak that he could
scarcely describe his feelings; and, as well as the
French surgeon, began to believe that his life was
near its close. The Persian Esculapius, however,
who discovered the nature of the disorder at a
glance, assured him it was a mere trifle; that he266
needed by no means be uneasy; and that, in fact,
he would, with God’s blessing, restore him to health
that very day, nay, in a very few hours.
This dashing mode of dealing with disorders produced
an excellent effect upon the traveller’s mind.
The hakīm seemed to hold Death by the beard, to
keep him in his toils, to curb him, or let him have
his way at pleasure. Chardin’s whole frame trembled
with joy. He took the physician by the hand,
squeezed it as well as his strength would permit, and
looked up in his face as he would have looked upon
his guardian-angel. The hakīm, to whom these
things were no novelties, proceeded, without question
or remark, to prescribe for his patient; and
having done this, he was about to retire, when the
traveller cried out, “Sir, I am consumed with heat!”—“I
know that very well,” replied the hakīm; “but
you shall be cooled presently!” and with the word
both he and his apothecary disappeared.
About nine o’clock the young apothecary returned,
bringing with him a basketful of drugs, enough, to
all appearance, to kill or cure a regiment of patients.
“For whom,” inquired Chardin, “are all those medicines?”—“For
you,” replied the young man; “these
are what the hakīm has ordered you to take this
morning, and you must swallow them as quickly as
possible.” Fevers make men docile. The traveller
immediately began to do as he was commanded; but
when he came to one of the large bottles, his
“gorge,” as Shakspeare phrases it, began to rise at
it, and he observed that it would be impossible to
swallow that at a draught. “Never mind,” said the
young man, “you can take it at several draughts.”
Obedience followed, and the basketful of physic
disappeared. “You will presently,” observed the
apothecary, “experience the most furious thirst; and
I would willingly give you ices to take, but there is
neither ice nor snow in the city except at the governor’s.”
As his thirst would not allow him to be267
punctilious, Chardin at once applied to the governor;
and succeeding in his enterprise, quenched his burning
thirst with the most delicious drinks in the
world.
To render him as cool as possible his bed was
spread upon the floor in an open parlour, and so frequently
sprinkled with water that the room might
almost be said to be flooded; but the fever still continuing,
the bed was exchanged for a mat, upon
which he was extended in his shirt, and fanned by
two men. The disorder being still unsubdued, the patient
was placed upon a chair, where cold water was
poured over him in profusion, while the French surgeon,
who was constantly by his side, and could not
restrain his indignation at seeing the ordinary rules
of his practice thus set at naught, exclaimed, “They
are killing you, sir! Depend upon it, that it is by
killing you the hakīm means to remove your fever!”
The traveller, however, maintained his confidence
in the Persian, and had very soon the satisfaction of
being informed that the fever had already abated,
and of perceiving that, instead of killing, the hakīm
had actually cured him. In one word, the disorder
departed more rapidly than it had come on, and in a
few days he was enabled to continue his journey.
Remaining quietly at Ispahan during the space of
a whole year after this unfortunate excursion, he
then departed from the capital for the court, which
still lingered at Casbin, in company with Mohammed
Hussein Beg, son of the governor of the island of
Bahreint. This young man was conducting from
his father to the king a present, consisting of two
wild bulls, with long, black, sharp horns, an ostrich,
and a number of rich Indian stuffs; and being by no
means a strict Mussulman, drinking wine and eating
heartily of a good dinner, whether cooked by Mohammedan
or Christian, was a very excellent travelling
companion. On his arrival at Casbin, Chardin,
who was now extremely well known to all the268
grandees of the kingdom, was agreeably and hospitably
received by the courtiers, particularly by the
wife of the grand pontiff, who was the king’s aunt.
This lady, in order to manifest the friendship she
entertained for him, though in consequence of the
peculiar manners of the country their souls only had
met, made him a present of eight chests of dried
sweetmeats, scented with amber and the richest perfumes
of the East. Her husband was no less distinguished
by his friendship for our traveller, who nowhere
in Persia experienced more genuine kindness
or generosity than from this noble family.
During this visit to Casbin, Chardin had the honour,
as it is vulgarly termed, of presenting two of
his countrymen to the shah; and so powerful is the
force of habit and prejudice, that this able, learned,
and virtuous man really imagined it an honour to
approach and converse familiarly with an opium-eating,
cruel, and unprincipled sot, merely because
he wore a tiara and could sport with the destinies
of a great empire! The nazir, in introducing the
traveller, observed, “Sire, this is Chardin, your merchant.”
To which the shah replied, with a smile,
“He is a very dear merchant.”—“Your majesty is
right,” added the nazir; “he is a politic man; he
has overreached the whole court.” This the minister
uttered with a smile; and he had a right to smile,
says Chardin, for he took especial care that quite the
contrary should happen.
Chardin soon after this took his final leave of the
court of Persia, and returned by way of Ispahan to
Bander-Abassi, whence he purposed sailing by an
English ship for Surat. The fear of falling into the
hands of the Dutch, then at war with France, prevented
him, however, from putting his design into
execution; and relinquishing the idea of again visiting
Hindostan, he returned to Europe in 1677. Of
the latter part of his life few particulars are known.
Prevented by religious considerations from residing269
in his own country, where freedom of conscience
was not to be enjoyed, he selected England for his
home, where, in all probability, he became acquainted
with many of the illustrious men who shed a glory
over that epoch of our history. It was in London,
also, that he first met with the lady whom he immediately
afterward made his wife. Like himself, she
was a native of France and a Protestant, forced into
banishment by the apprehension of religious persecution.
On the very day of his marriage Chardin
received the honour of knighthood from the hand of
the gay and profligate Charles II.
Having now recovered from the fever of travelling,
the beautiful Rouennaise in all probability aiding in
the cure, Chardin devoted his leisure to the composition
of his “Travels’ History,” of which the first
volume appeared in London in 1686. While he was
employed in preparing the remainder of his works
for the press, he was appointed the king’s minister
plenipotentiary or ambassador to the States of Holland,
being at the same time intrusted with the management
of the East India Company’s affairs in that
country. His public duties, however, which could
not entirely occupy his mind, by no means prevented,
though they considerably delayed, the publication
of the remainder of his travels; the whole of which
appeared, both in quarto and duodecimo, in 1711.
Shortly after this he returned to England, where he
died in the neighbourhood of London, 1713, in the
sixty-ninth year of his age.
The reputation of Chardin, which even before his
death extended throughout Europe and shed a lustre
over his old age, is still on the increase, and must
be as durable as literature and civilization; his merit
not consisting in splendour of description or in erudite
research, though in these he is by no means
deficient, but in that singular sagacity which enabled
him to penetrate into the heart and characters of
men, and to descend with almost unerring precision270
to the roots of institutions and manners. No European
seems to have comprehended the Persians so
completely; and no one has hitherto described them
so well. Religion, government, morals, manners,
costume—every thing in which one nation can differ
from another—Chardin had studied in that bold and
original manner which characterizes the efforts of
genius. His style, though careless, and sometimes
quaint, is not destitute of that naïveté and ease which
result from much experience and the consciousness
of intellectual power; and if occasionally it appear
heavy and cumbrous in its march, it more frequently
quickens its movements, and hurries along with
natural gracefulness and facility. Without appearing
desirous of introducing himself to the reader
further than the necessities of the case require, he
allows us to take so many glimpses of his character
and opinions, that by the time we arrive at the termination
of his travels we seem to be perfectly acquainted
with both; and unless all these indications
be fallacious, so much talent, probity, and elegance
of manners has seldom been possessed by any traveller.
Marco Polo was gifted with a more exalted
enthusiasm, and acquired a more extensive acquaintance
with the material phenomena of nature; Pietro
della Valle amuses the reader by wilder and more
romantic adventures; Bernier is more concise and
severe; Volney more rigidly philosophical; but for
good sense, acuteness of observation, suavity of
manner, and scrupulous adherence to truth, no
traveller, whether ancient or modern, is superior to
Chardin.
ENGELBERT KÆMPFER.
This distinguished traveller was born on the 16th
of September, 1651, at Lemgow, a small town in the
territories of the Count de Lippe, in the circle of
Westphalia. His father, who was a clergyman, bestowed
upon his son a liberal education suitable to
the medical profession, for which he was designed.
It is probable, however, that the numerous removals
from one city to another which took place in the
course of his education,—his studies, which commenced
at Hameln, in the duchy of Brunswick,
having been successively pursued at Lunebourg,
Hamburgh, Lubeck, Dantzick, Thorn, Cracow, and
Kœnigsberg,—communicated to his character a portion
of that restless activity and passion for vicissitude
which marked his riper years. But these
changes of scene by no means impaired his ardour
for study. Indeed, the idea of one day opening himself
a path to fame as a traveller appears, on the
contrary, to have imparted additional keenness to
his thirst for knowledge; his comprehensive and
sagacious mind very early discovering in how many
ways a knowledge of antiquity, of literature, and
the sciences might further the project he had formed
of enlarging the boundaries of human experience.
Having during his stay at Kœnigsberg acquired a
competent knowledge of natural history and the
theory of medicine, he returned at the age of thirty
to his own country; whence, after a brief visit, he
again departed for Prussia and Sweden. Wherever
he went, the number and variety of his acquirements,
the urbanity of his manners, and the romance and272
enthusiasm of his character rendered him a welcome
guest, and procured him the favour of warm and
powerful friends. During his residence in this country,
at the university of Upsal and at Stockholm, he
became known to Rudbeck and Puffendorf, the father
of the historian; and it was through the interest of
the latter that, rejecting the many advantageous
offers which were made for the purpose of tempting
him to remain in Sweden, he obtained the office of
secretary to the embassy then about to be sent into
Persia. The object of this mission was partly commercial,
partly political; and as the Czar of Russia
was indirectly concerned in its contemplated arrangements,
it was judged necessary that the ambassador
should proceed to Ispahan by the way of
Moscow.
Our traveller departed from Stockholm March 20,
1683, with the presents for the Shah of Persia, and,
proceeding through Arland, Finland, and Ingermunland,
joined Louis Fabricius at Narva. On their arrival
at Moscow, where their reception was magnificent,
the ambassador so skilfully conducted his
negotiations that in less than two months they were
enabled to pursue their journey. They accordingly
descended the Volga, and, embarking at Astrakan in
a ship with two rudders, and two pilots who belonged
to different nations, and could not understand each
other, traversed the Caspian Sea, where they encountered
a violent tempest, and at length arrived at
Nisabad. Here they found the ambassadors of Poland
and Russia, who had arrived a short time previously,
and were likewise on their way to Ispahan,
and in their company proceeded to Shamaki, the
capital of Shirwan.
In this city, which they reached about the middle
of December, they remained a whole month, awaiting
the reply of the shah to the governor of Shirwan,
who immediately upon their arrival had despatched
a courier to court for directions respecting the manner273
in which, the several ambassadors were to be
treated and escorted to Ispahan. This delay was
fortunate for Kæmpfer, as it enabled him to visit and
examine the most remarkable objects of curiosity in
the neighbourhood, more particularly the ancient
city of Baku, renowned for its eternal fire; the
naphtha springs of Okesra; the burning fountains
and mephitic wells; and the other wonders of that
extraordinary spot. Upon this excursion he set out
from Shamakia on the 4th of January, 1684, accompanied
by another member of the legation, two Armenians,
and an Abyssinian interpreter. Their road,
during the first part of this day’s journey, lay over a
fine plain abounding in game; having passed which,
they arrived about noon at the village of Pyru Resah.
Here a storm, attended with a heavy fall of snow,
preventing their continuing their journey any farther
that day, they took possession of a kind of vaulted
stable, which the inhabitants in their simplicity denominated
a caravansary; and kindling a blazing fire
with dried wormwood and other similar plants,
which emitted a most pungent smoke, contrived to
thaw their limbs and keep themselves warm until
the morning.
Next morning they continued their route, at first
through a mountainous and desert country buried in
snow, and afterward through a plain of milder temperature,
but both equally uninhabited, no living
creature making its appearance, excepting a number
of eagles perched upon the summits of the heights,
and here and there a flock of antelopes browsing
upon the plain. Lodging this night also in a caravansary
in the desert, and proceeding next day
through similar scenes, they arrived in the afternoon
at Baku. The aspect of this city, the narrowness
of the gate, the strange ornaments of the walls, the
peculiarity of the site, the structure of the houses,
the squalid countenances of the inhabitants, and the
novelty of every object which presented itself, inspired274
our traveller with astonishment. It happening
to be market-day, the streets were crowded with
people, who, being little accustomed to strangers,
and having never before seen a negro, crowded obstreperously
around the travellers, and followed
them with hooting, shouting, and clamour to their
lodgings. An old man, who had officiously undertaken
to provide them with an apartment, conducted
them through the mob of his townsfolk, which was
every moment becoming more dense, to a small mud
hut, situated in a deserted part of the city, and from
its dismal and miserable appearance, rather resembling
the den of a wild beast than a human dwelling.
Having entered this new cave of Trophonius, and
shut the door behind them, the travellers, as Kæmpfer
jocosely observes, began to offer up their thanks
to the tutelary god of the place, for affording them an
asylum from the insolence of the rabble. But their
triumph was premature. The mob, whose curiosity
was by no means to be satisfied with a passing
glance, ascended the roof of the den in crowds, and
before the travellers could spread out their carpets
and lie down, the crashing roof, the lattices broken,
and the door, which they had fastened with a beam,
violently battered, warned them that it was necessary
to escape before they should be overwhelmed
by the ruins. It was now thought advisable that
they should endeavour, by exhibiting themselves
and their Ethiopian interpreter, whom the Bakuares
unquestionably mistook for some near relation of
the devil’s, to conciliate their persecutors, and purchase
the privilege of sleeping in peace. They
therefore removed the beam, and issuing forth, Abyssinian
and all, into the midst of the crowd, allowed
them time to gaze until they were tired. Presently
after this the governor of the city arrived; but, instead
of affording his protection to the strangers, as
a man in his station should have done, he accused
them of being spies, and having overwhelmed them275
with menaces, which he seems to have uttered for
the purpose of enhancing his own dignity in the estimation
of the multitude, departed, leaving them to
enact the spies at their discretion.
Being now left in undisturbed possession of their
hut, and there still remaining some hours of daylight,
they prevailed upon their host, by dint of a
small bribe, to show them the citadel, situated in the
loftiest and most deserted part of the city. Returning
from thence, they were met by the beadles of
the town, who conducted them, with their beasts
and baggage, to the public caravansary, though their
host and guide had denied the existence of any such
building; and while this ancient deceiver was hurried
off before the magistrates, our travellers sat down
to supper and some excellent wine. Next morning
Kæmpfer issued forth, disguised as a groom, to examine
the remainder of the city, while his companions
loaded their beasts, and, the keeper of the caravansary
being absent, slipped out of the city, and
waited until he should join them at a little distance
upon the road. Having escaped from this inhospitable
place, they proceeded to examine the small peninsula
of Okesra, a tongue of land about three
leagues in length, and half a league in breadth,
which projects itself into the Caspian to the south
of Baku. This spot, like the Phlegræan fields, appears
to be but a thin crust of earth superimposed
upon an internal gulf of liquid fire, which, escaping
into upper air through a thousand fissures, scorches
the earth to dust in some places; in others, presents
to the eye a portion of its surface, boiling, eddying,
noisome, dark, wrapped in infernal clouds, and murmuring
like the fabled waters of hell. Here and
there sharp, lofty cones of naked rocks, composed,
like the summits of the Caucasus, of conchylaceous
petrifactions, shoot up from the level of the plain,
and on the northern part of the peninsula are sometimes
divided by cultivated valleys. On the summit276
of one of these eminences they perceived the ruins
of a castle, in former times the residence of a celebrated
imam, who had taken refuge in these wild
scenes from the persecution of the race of Omar.
Still proceeding towards the south they arrived, in
about an hour from these ruins, upon the margin of
a burning field, the surface of which was strewed
with a pale white sand, and heaps of ashes; while,
from numerous gaping rents, rushing flames, black
smoke, or bluish steam, strongly impregnated with
the scent of naphtha, burst up in a singularly striking
manner. When the superincumbent sand was removed,
whether upon the edge of the fissures, or
in any other part of the field, a light rock, porous,
and worm-eaten, as it were, like pumice-stone, was
discovered; which, as well as the substratum of the
whole peninsula, consisted of shelly petrifactions.
Here they found about ten persons occupied in different
labours about the fires; some being employed
in attending to a number of copper or earthen vessels,
placed over the least intense of the burning
fissures, in which they were cooking dinner for the
inhabitants of a neighbouring village; while others
were piling stones brought from other places into
heaps, to be burnt into lime. Apart from these sat
two Parsees, the descendants of the ancient inhabitants
of Persia, beside a small wall of dry stones
which they had piled up, contemplating with holy
awe and veneration the fiercely ascending flames,
which they regard as an emblem of the eternal God.
One of the lime-burners now came up to the travellers,
and said that for a small reward he would
show them a very extraordinary spectacle. When
they had given him some trifle, he plucked a few
threads of cotton from his garment, and twisting
them upon the end of his rake, went and held them
over one of the burning fissures, where they were
instantly kindled. He then held the rake over
another rent, from which neither flame nor smoke277
ascended, and in an instant the gaseous exhalation,
previously invisible, was kindled, and shot up into a
tall, bright flame, like that of a vast gas lamp, which,
after burning furiously for some time, to the unspeakable
astonishment of the strangers, died away
and disappeared. Similar phenomena are observed
in several parts of the Caucasus, particularly in the
chasms of Mount Shubanai, about four days’ journey
from Okesra.
From this place they were conducted to the fountains
of white naphtha, where the substance oozed
out of the earth as clear as crystal, but in small
quantities. Kæmpfer was surprised to find the wells
left unprotected even by a wall; for if by any accident
they were set on fire, as those near Ecbatana
were in ancient times, as we learn from Plutarch,
they would continue to burn for ever with inextinguishable
violence. Having likewise visited the
wells of black naphtha, where this pitchy oil bubbled
up out of the earth with a noise like that of a
torrent, and in such abundance that it supplied many
countries with lamp oil, our travellers repaired to a
neighbouring village to pass the night. Here they
fared more sumptuously than at Baku; and having
supped deliciously upon figs, grapes, apples, and
pomegranates, their unscrupulous hosts, notwithstanding
that they were Mohammedans, unblushingly
offered to provide them with wine and courtesans!
Kæmpfer preferring to pass the evening in
learning such particulars as they could furnish respecting
the ancient and modern condition of their
country, they merrily crowded about him, and each
in his turn imparted what he knew. When their information
was exhausted, they formed themselves
into a kind of wild chorus, alternately reciting rude
pieces of poetry, and proceeding by degrees to singing
and dancing, afforded their guests abundant
amusement by their strange attitudes and gestures.
Rising next morning with the dawn, they proceeded278
to view what is termed by the inhabitants
the naphtha hell. Ascending a small hemispherical
hill, they found its summit occupied by a diminutive
lake, not exceeding fifty paces in circumference, the
crumbling, marshy margin of which could only be
trodden with the utmost caution. The water, which
lay like a black sheet below, had a muriatic taste;
and a strange hollow sound, arising out of the extremest
depths of the lake, continually smote upon
the ear, and increased the horror inspired by the aspect
of the place. From time to time black globules
of naphtha came bubbling up to the surface of the
water, and were gradually impelled towards the
shore, where, mixing with earthy particles, they incessantly
increased the crust which on all sides encroached
upon the lake, and impended over its infernal
gloom. At a short distance from this hill
there was a mountain which emitted a kind of black
ooze impregnated with bitumen, which, being hardened
by the sun as it flowed down over the sides of
the mountain, gave the whole mass the appearance
of a prodigious cone of pitch. In the northern portion
of the peninsula they beheld another singular
phenomenon, which was a hill, through the summit of
which, as through a vast tube, immense quantities
of potter’s earth ascended, as if impelled upwards
by some machine, and having risen to a considerable
height, burst by its own weight, and rolled down
the naked side of the hill. In this little peninsula
nature seems to have elaborated a thousand wonders,
which, however, while they astonish, are useful
to mankind. It was with the produce of Okesra
that Milton lighted up his Pandæmonium:—
From the arched roof,
Pendent by subtle magic, many a row
Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed
With naphtha and asphaltus, yielded light
As from a sky.
Returning to Shamakin, which Kæmpfer erroneously279
supposes to be the Rhaya of the Bible, our
traveller a few days afterward departed for Ispahan,
where he remained nearly two years. Shah Solyman,
the prince then reigning, whose character and
court have been so admirably described by Chardin,
was a man whose feeble constitution and feebler
mind rendered him a slave to physicians and astrologers.
He was now, by the counsel of his stargazers,
a voluntary prisoner in his own palace, a malignant
constellation, as they affirmed, menacing him
with signal misfortunes should he venture abroad.
On the 30th of July, however, the sinister influence
of the stars no longer preventing him, he held a
public levee with the utmost splendour and magnificence;
upon which occasion, as Asiatic princes are
peculiarly desirous of appearing to advantage in the
eyes of strangers, all the foreign ambassadors then
in the capital were admitted to an audience. Though
the representatives of several superior nations, as
of France, Germany, and Russia, to say nothing of
those of Poland, Siam, or of the pope, were present,
the ambassador of Sweden obtained, I know
not wherefore, the precedence over them all. Probably
neither the shah nor his ministers understood the
comparative merits of the various nations of Europe,
and regulated their conduct by the personal
character of the envoys; and it would seem that
Lewis Fabricius possessed the secret of rendering
himself agreeable to the court of Persia.
Meanwhile Kæmpfer, who lost no opportunity of
penetrating into the character and observing the manners
of a foreign people, employed his leisure in
collecting materials for the various works which he
meditated. He bestowed particular attention upon
the ceremonies and observances of the court; the
character and actions of the shah; the form of government;
the great officers of state; the revenue
and forces; and the religion, customs, dress, food,
and manners of the people. His principal inquiries,280
however, both here and elsewhere, had medicine and
natural history for their object; and that his researches
were neither barren nor frivolous is demonstrated
by his “Amœnitates Exoticæ,” one of
the most instructive and amusing books which have
ever been written on the East.
Towards the conclusion of the year 1686, M. Fabricius,
having successfully terminated his negotiations
with the Persian court, prepared to leave Ispahan;
but Germany being still, says Kæmpfer,
engaged in war with France and the Ottoman Porte,
he preferred relinquishing his office of secretary to
the embassy, and pushing his fortunes in the remoter
countries of the East, to the idea of beholding,
and perhaps involving himself in the calamities
of his native land, which, however he might deplore,
he had no power to remedy or alleviate. He therefore
took his leave of the ambassador, who did him
the honour to accompany him with all his retinue a
mile out of Ispahan, and proceeded towards Gombroon,
or Bander-Abassi, having, by the friendship
of Father du Mons, and the recommendations of M.
Fabricius, obtained the office of chief surgeon to
the fleet of the Dutch East India Company, then
cruising in the Persian Gulf. He long hesitated, he
says, whether he should select Egypt or the “Farther
East” for the field of his researches; and had
not circumstances, which frequently stand in the
place of destiny, interposed, it is probable that the
charms of the Nile would have proved the more
powerful. To a man like Kæmpfer, the offer of becoming
chief physician to a Georgian Prince, “with
considerable appointments,” which was made him
about this time, could have held out but small temptation,
as he must have been thoroughly acquainted,
not only with the general poverty of both prince and
people, but likewise with the utter insecurity of person
and property in that wretched country.
It was during this journey that he visited the celebrated281
ruins of Persepolis. He arrived in sight of
the Forty Pillars on the 1st of December, 1686; and
looking towards this scene of ancient magnificence,
where the choicest of the population of a vast empire
had once sported like butterflies in the sun, his
eye encountered about fifty black Turcoman tents
upon the plain, before the doors of which sat a number
of women engaged in weaving, while their husbands
and children were amusing themselves in the
tents, or absent with the flocks and herds. Not
having seen the simple apparatus which enables the
Hindoos to produce the finest fabrics in the world,
whether in chintzes or muslins, Kæmpfer beheld with
astonishment the comparatively excellent productions
of these rude looms, and the skill and industry
of the Persepolitan Calypsos, whose fair fingers thus
emulated the illustrious labours of the Homeric goddesses
and queens. It was not within the power of
his imagination, however, inflamed as it was by the
gorgeous descriptions of Diodorus and other ancient
historians, to bestow a moment upon any thing modern
in the presence of those mysterious and prodigious
ruins, sculptured with characters which no
longer speak to the eye, and exhibiting architectural
details which the ingenuity of these “degenerate
days” lacks the acumen to interpret. Here, if we
may conjecture from the solemn splendour of the
language in which he relates what he saw, his mind
revelled in those dreamy delights which are almost
inevitably inspired by the sight of ancient monuments
rent, shattered, and half-obliterated by time.
Having gratified his antiquarian curiosity by the
examination of these memorials of Alexander’s passion
for Thaïs, who,—
Like another Helen, fired another Troy,—
he continued his journey to Shiraz, where beauties
of another kind, exquisite, to use his own language,
beyond credibility, and marvellously varied, refreshed282
the eye, and seemed to efface from the mind all
recollection of the fact that the earth contained such
things as graves or ruins. The effervescence of
animal spirits occasioned by the air and aspect of
scenes so delicious appeared for the moment to
justify the enthusiasm of the Persian poet, who,
half-intoxicated with the perfume of the atmosphere,
exclaims:—
Boy, bid yon ruby liquid flow,
And let thy pensive heart be glad,
Whate’er the frowning zealots say;
Tell them their Eden cannot show
A stream so pure as Rocknabad,
A bower so sweet as Mosellay!
But, with all its beauty, Shiraz contains nothing
which raises so powerful an enthusiasm in the soul
as two tombs,—the tomb of the bard who sung the
beauties of the Rocknabad, and of the moral author
of the “Rose Garden;” irresistible and lasting
are the charms of poetry and eloquence! Our traveller
having acquired at Ispahan sufficient knowledge
of the Persian language to enable him to relish
Hafiz, though he complains that he is difficult, as
well as the easier and more popular Saadi, whose
sayings are in Persia “familiar to their mouths as
household words,” it was impossible that he should
pass through the city where their honoured ashes
repose without paying a pious visit to the spot.
Having contemplated these illustrious mausoleums
with that profound veneration which the memory
of genius inspires, he returned to his caravansary
half-persuaded, with the Persians, that they who do
not study and treasure up in their souls the maxims
of such divine poets can neither be virtuous nor
happy.
From the poets of Shiraz he naturally turned to
its roses and its wine; the former, in his opinion, the
most fragrant upon earth; and the latter the most
balmy and delicious. In his history and description283
of this wine, one of the most agreeable articles in his
“Amœnitates,” there is a kind of bacchic energy and
enthusiasm, a rhapsodical affectation of sesquipedalian
words, which would seem to indicate that even
the remembrance of this oriental nectar has the
power of elevating the animal spirits. But whatever
were the delights of Shiraz, it was necessary to bid
them adieu; and inwardly exclaiming with the calif,
“How sweetly we live if a shadow would last!” he
turned his back upon Mosellay and the Rocknabad,
and pursued his route towards Gombroon.
Here, if he was pleased with contrasts, he could
not fail to be highly gratified; for no two places
upon earth could be more unlike than Shiraz and
Gombroon. It was the pestilential air of this detestable
coast that had deprived Della Valle of his Maani,
and reduced Chardin to the brink of the grave; and
Kæmpfer had not been there many months before
he experienced in his turn the deadly effects of
breathing so inflamed and insalubrious an atmosphere,
from which, in the summer season, even the
natives are compelled to fly to the mountains.
Though no doubt the causes had long been at work,
the effect manifested itself suddenly in a malignant
fever, in which he lay delirious for several days.
When the violence of this disorder abated, it was
successively followed by a dropsy and a quartan
ague, through which dangerous and unusual steps, as
Dr. Scheuchzer observes, he recovered his health,
though not his former strength and vigour. Admonished
by this rough visitation, he now had recourse
to those means for the restoration of his strength
which a more rigid prudence would have taught him
to put in practice for its preservation, and removed
with all possible expedition into the mountainous
districts of Laristân.
On the 16th of June, 1686, at least six weeks after
every other sane person had fled from the place,
Kæmpfer set out from Gombroon, sitting in a pannier284
suspended from the back of a camel, being too weak
to ride on horseback, and attended by a servant
mounted upon an ass, while another animal of the
same species carried his cooking apparatus and provisions.
To shield himself from the burning winds
which swept with incredible fury along these parched
and naked plains, he stretched a small sheet over his
head, which, falling down on both sides of the pannier,
served as a kind of tent. Thus covered, he
contrived to keep himself tolerably cool by continually
wetting the sheet on the inside; but being
clothed in an exceedingly thin garment, open in several
parts, he next day found that wherever the wet
sheet had touched him the skin peeled off as if it had
been burned. Having procured the assistance of a
guide, they deserted the ordinary road, and struck
off by a less circuitous, but more difficult track,
through the mountains. The prospect for some time
was as dull and dreary as could be imagined; consisting
of a succession of sandy deserts, here and
there interspersed with small salt ponds, the glittering
mineral crust of which showed like so many
sheets of snow by the light of the stars.
At length, late on the night of the 20th, though the
darkness precluded the possibility of perceiving the
form of surrounding objects, he discovered by the
aroma of plants and flowers diffused through the air
that he was approaching a verdant and cultivated
spot; and continuing his journey another day over a
rocky plain, he arrived at the foot of the mountains.
Here he found woody and well-watered valleys alternating
with steep and craggy passes, which inspired
him with terror as he gazed at their frowning and
tremendous brows from below. By dint of perseverance,
however, he at length reached the summit
of Mount Bonna, or at least the highest inhabited
part, though spiry rocks shooting up above this
mountain plateau on every side intercepted all view
of the surrounding country. The chief of the mountain285
village in which he intended to reside received
him hospitably, and on the very morning after his
arrival introduced him to the spot where he was to
remain during his stay. This was a kind of garden
exposed to the north-east, and therefore cool and
airy. Ponds of water, cascades, narrow ravines,
overhanging rocks, and shady trees rendered it a delightful
retreat; but as the Persians as well as the
Turks regard our habit of pacing backwards and forwards
as no better than madness, there were no
walks worthy of the name. When showers of rain
or any other cause made him desire shelter, he betook
himself to a small edifice in the garden, where
his only companion was a large serpent, which ensconced
itself in a hole directly opposite to his
couch, where it passed the night, but rolled out early
in the morning to bask in the sun upon the rocks.
Upon a sunny spot in the garden he daily observed
two delicate little chameleons, which, he was persuaded,
were delighted with his society; for at
length one or the other of them would follow him
into the house, either to enjoy the warmth of the
fire, or to pick up such crumbs as might drop from his
table during dinner. If observed, however, it would
utter a sound like the gentle laugh of a child, and
spring off to its home in the trees. He was shortly
afterward joined by another German invalid from
Gombroon, whom he appears to have found preferable
as a companion both to the serpent and the chameleon.
Having now no other object than to amuse himself
and recover his health, he indulged whatever
fancy came uppermost; at one time examining the
plants and trees of the mountain, and at another joining
a party of mountaineers in hunting that singular
species of antelope in the stomach of which the
bezoar is found. The chase of this fleet and timid
animal required the hunters to be abroad before day,
when they concealed themselves in some thicket or286
cavern, or beneath the brows of overhanging rocks,
near the springs to which it usually repaired with
the dawn to drink. They knew, from some peculiarities
in the external appearance of the beasts, such
individuals as certainly contained the bezoar in their
stomach from those which did not; and in all his
various excursions Kæmpfer requested his companions
to fire at the former only.
In these same mountains there was an extraordinary
cavern concealed among rugged and nearly inaccessible
precipices, from the sides of which there
constantly exuded a precious balsam of a black colour,
inodorous, and almost tasteless, but of singular
efficacy in all disorders of the bowels. The same
district likewise contained several hot-baths, numerous
trees and plants, many of which were unknown
in Europe, and a profusion of those fierce animals,
such as leopards, bears, and hyenas, which constitute
the game of an Asiatic sportsman.
Remaining in these mountains until he considered
his strength sufficiently restored, he returned to
Gombroon. During his residence in Persia, which
was nearly of four years’ continuance, he collected
so large a quantity of new and curious information,
that notwithstanding that most of the spots he describes
had been visited by former travellers, his
whole track seems to run over an untrodden soil;
so true is it that it is the mind of the traveller, far
more than the material scene, which furnishes the
elements of interest and novelty. The history of
this part of his travels, therefore, the results of which
are contained in his “Amœnitates,” seemed to deserve
being given at some length. To that curious
volume I refer the reader for his ample and interesting
history of the generation, growth, culture, and
uses of the date-palm; his description of that remarkable
balsamic juice called muminahi by the Persians,
and mumia, or munmy, by Kæmpfer, which
exudes from a rock in the district of Daraab, and was287
annually collected with extraordinary pomp and ceremony
for the sole use of the Persian king; and the
curious account which he has given of the asafœtida
plant, said to be produced only in Persia; the filaria
medinensis, or worm which breeds between the interstices
of the muscles in various parts of the human
body; and the real oriental dragon’s blood, which is
obtained from a coniferous palm.
About the latter end of June, 1688, he sailed on
board the Dutch fleet from Gombroon, which having
orders to touch at Muscat and several other ports
of Arabia, he enjoyed an opportunity of observing
something of the climate and productions of that
country, from whose spicy shore, to borrow the language
of Milton, Sabæan odours are diffused by the
north-east winds, when,—
Pleased with the grateful smell, old Ocean smiles!
Proceeding eastward through the Indian Ocean,
they successively visited the north-western coasts
of the Deccan, the kingdoms of Malabar, the island
of Ceylon, the Gulf of Bengal, and Sumatra; all which
countries he viewed with the same curious eye, the
same spirit of industry and thirst of knowledge.
Upwards of a year was spent in this delightful
voyage, the fleet not arriving at Batavia, its ultimate
point of destination, until the month of September,
1689. Kæmpfer regarded this chief seat of the Dutch
power in the East as a hackneyed topic, and neglected
to bestow any considerable research or pains
upon its history or appearance, its trade, riches,
power, or government; but the natural history of
the country, a subject more within the scope of his
taste and studies, as well as more superficially
treated by others, commanded much of his attention.
The curious and extensive garden of Cornelius Van
Outhoorn, director-general of the Dutch East India
Company, the garden of M. Moller, and the little
island of Eidam, lying but a few leagues off Batavia,288
afforded a number of rare and singular plants, indigenous
and exotic, many of which he was the first to
observe and describe.
It was at that period the policy of the Dutch to
send an annual embassy to the court of Japan, the
object of which was to extend and give stability to
their commercial connexion with that country.
Kæmpfer, who had now been eight months in Batavia,
and appears during that period to have made
many powerful and useful friends, obtained the signal
favour of being appointed physician to the embassy;
and one of the ships receiving orders to touch at
Siam, the authorities, to enhance the obligation, permitted
him to perform the voyage in this vessel, that
an opportunity might be afforded him of beholding
the curiosities of that country.
He sailed from Batavia on the 7th of May, 1690;
and steering through the Thousand Islands, having
the lofty mountains of Java and Sumatra in sight
during two days, arrived in thirteen days at Puli
Timon, a small island on the eastern coast of Malacca.
The natives, whom he denominates banditti,
were a dark, sickly-looking race, who, owing to their
habit of plucking out their beard, a custom likewise
prevalent in Sumatra and the Malay peninsula, had
all the appearance of ugly old women. Their dress
consisted of a coarse cummerbund, or girdle, and a
hat manufactured from the leaves of the sago-palm.
They understood nothing of the use of money; but
willingly exchanged their incomparable mangoes,
figs, pineapples, and fowls for linen shirts, rice, or
iron. On the 6th of June they arrived safely in the
mouth of the Meinam, and cast anchor before Siam,
where our traveller’s passion for botany immediately
led him into the woods in search of plants; but as
tigers and other wild beasts were here the natural
lords of the soil, it was fortunate that his herborizing
did not cost him dearer than he intended.
In this country, which has recently been so ably289
described by Mr. Crawfurd, the historian of the
Indian Archipelago, Kæmpfer made but a short stay.
In the capital, which formed the extreme limit of
his knowledge, he observed a great number of temples
and schools, adorned with pyramids and columns
of various forms, covered with gilding. Though
smaller than European churches in dimension, they
were, he thought, greatly superior in beauty, on account
of their numerous bending and projecting
roofs, gilded architraves, porticoes, pillars, and other
ornaments. In the interior, the great number of
gilded images of Buddha, seated in long rows upon
raised terraces, whence they seemed to overlook
the worshippers, increased the picturesque character
of the building. Some of these statues were of
enormous size, exceeding not only that Phidian
Jupiter, represented in a sitting posture, which, had
it risen, must have lifted up the roof of the temple,
but even those prodigious statues of Osymandyas,
on the plains of Upper Egypt, which look like petrifactions
of Typhæus and Enceladus, the Titans who
cast Pelion upon Ossa. One of these gigantic
images, one hundred and twenty feet long, represents
Buddha reclining in a meditative posture, and has
set the fashion in Siam for the attitude in which
wisdom may be most successfully wooed.
In sailing down the Meinam he was greatly amused
with the extraordinary number of black and gray
monkeys, which walked like pigmy armies along
the shore, or perched themselves upon the tops of
the loftiest trees, like crows. The glowworms, he
observes, afforded another curious spectacle; for,
setting upon trees, like a fiery cloud, the whole
swarm would spread themselves over its branches,
sometimes hiding their light all at once, and a moment
after shining forth again with the utmost regularity
and exactness, as if they were in a perpetual
systole and diastole. The innumerable swarms of
mosquitoes which inhabited the same banks were290
no less constant and active, though less agreeable
companions, which, from the complaints of our
traveller, appear to have taken a peculiar pleasure
in stinging Dutchmen.
They left the mouth of the river on the 7th of
July, and on the 11th of August discovered the
mountains of Fokien in China. Continuing their
course along the southern coast of this empire, they
observed, about the twenty-seventh degree of north
latitude, a yellowish-green substance floating on the
surface of the sea, which appeared for two days.
Exactly at the same time they were visited by a
number of strange black birds, which perched on
several parts of the ship, and suffered themselves to
be taken by the hand. These visits, which were
made during a dead calm, and when the weather
was insufferably hot, was succeeded by tremendous
storms, accompanied by thunder and lightning, and
a darkness terrible as that of Egypt. The rain,
which was now added to the other menaces of the
heavens, and was hurled, mingled with brine and
spray, over the howling waves, appeared to threaten
a second deluge; and both Kæmpfer and the crew
seem to have anticipated becoming a prey to the
sharks. However, though storm after storm beat
upon them in their course, the “audax genus Japeti”
boldly pursued their way, and on the 24th of September
cast anchor in the harbour of Nangasaki, in
Japan, which is enclosed with lofty mountains,
islands, and rocks, and thus guarded by nature
against the rage of the sea and the fury of the
tempest.
The appearance of this harbour, which on the
arrival of Kæmpfer was enlivened by a small fleet
of pleasure-boats, was singularly picturesque. In
the evening all the vessels and boats put up their
lights, which twinkled like so many stars, over the
dark waves; and when the warm light of the morning
appeared, the pleasure-boats, with their alternate291
black and white sails, standing out of the port,
and gilded by the bright sunshine, constituted an
agreeable spectacle. The next sight was equally
striking. This consisted of a number of Japanese
officers, with pencil and paper in hand, who came on
board for the purpose of reviewing the newly-arrived
foreigners, of whom, after narrowly scrutinizing
every individual, they made an exact list and description
of their persons, in the same manner as we
describe thieves and suspicious characters in Europe.
All their arms and ammunition, together with their
boat and skiff, were demanded and delivered up.
Their prayer-books and European money they concealed
in a cask, which was carefully stowed away
out of the reach of the Japanese.
Kæmpfer quitted the ship as soon as possible, and
took up his residence at Desima, a small island adjoining
Nangasaki, or only separated from it by an
artificial channel. Here he forthwith commenced
the study of the language, and the contrivance of the
means of acquiring from a people bound by a solemn
oath to impart nothing to foreigners such information
respecting the country, its institutions, religion,
and manners as might satisfy the curiosity of the
rest of mankind respecting so singular a nation.
The difficulties, he observes, with which he had to
contend were great, but not altogether insuperable;
and might be overcome by proper management, notwithstanding
all the precautions which the Japanese
government had taken to the contrary. The Japanese,
a prudent and valiant nation, were not so easily
to be bound by an oath taken to such gods or spirits
as were not worshipped by many, and were unknown
to most; or if they did comply, it was chiefly from
fear of the punishment which would inevitably overtake
them if betrayed. Besides, though proud and
warlike, they were as curious and polite a nation as
any in the world, naturally inclined to commerce
and familiarity with foreigners, and desirous to292
excess of acquiring a knowledge of their histories,
arts, and sciences. But the Dutch being merchants,
a class of men which they ranked among the lowest
of the human race, and viewed with jealousy and
mistrust even for the very slavish and suspicious
condition in which they were held, our traveller
could discover no mode of insinuating himself into
their friendship, and winning them over to his interest,
but by evincing a readiness to comply with their
desires, a liberality which subdued their avarice, and
an humble and submissive manner which flattered
their vanity.
By these means, as he ingenuously confesses, he
contrived, like another Ulysses, to subdue the spells
of religion and government; and having gained the
friendship and good opinion of the interpreters and
the officers who commanded in Desima, to a degree
never before possessed by any European, the road
to the knowledge he desired lay open and level before
him. It would, indeed, have been no easy task to
resist the methods he put in practice for effecting his
purpose. He liberally imparted to them both medicine
and medical advice, and whatever knowledge
he possessed in astronomy and mathematics; he
likewise furnished them with a liberal supply of
European spirituous liquors; and these, joined with
the force of captivating manners, were arguments
irresistible. He was therefore permitted by degrees
to put whatever questions he pleased to them respecting
their government, civil and ecclesiastical,
the political and natural history of the country, the
manners and customs of the natives, or any other
point upon which he required information; even in
those matters on which the most inviolable secrecy
was enjoined by their oaths. The materials thus
collected, however, though highly important and
serviceable, were far from being altogether satisfactory,
or sufficient foundation whereon to erect a
history of the country; which, therefore, he must293
have left unattempted had not his good genius presented
him with other still more ample means of
knowledge.
Upon his arrival in Desima young man of about
four-and-twenty, prudent, sagacious, indefatigable,
thoroughly acquainted with the languages of China
and Japan, and ardently desirous of improving himself
in knowledge, was appointed to attend upon
him, in the double capacity of servant and pupil.
This young man had the good fortune, while under
the direction of Kæmpfer, to cure the governor of
the island of some complaint under which he
laboured; for which important service he was permitted,
apparently contrary to rule, to remain in the
service of our traveller during the whole of his stay
in Japan, and even to accompany him on his two
journeys to the capital. In order to derive all possible
advantage from the friendship of his pupil,
Kæmpfer taught him Dutch, as well as anatomy and
surgery; and moreover allowed him a handsome
salary. The Japanese was not ungrateful. He
collected with the utmost assiduity from every
accessible source such information as his master
required; and there was not a book which Kæmpfer
desired to consult that he did not contrive to procure
for him, and explain whenever his explanation was
necessary.
About the middle of February, 1691, the customary
presents having been got ready, and the necessary
preparations made, the Dutch embassy set out
from Nangasaki for the court of the emperor, with
Kæmpfer and his pupil in its train. Having got
fairly out of the city they proceeded on their journey,
passing through the small village of Mangome,
wholly inhabited by leather-tanners, who perform
the office of public executioners in Japan; and in
about two hours passed a stone pillar marking the
boundaries of the territory of Nangasaki. Here
and there upon the wayside they beheld the statue294
of Zisos, the god of travellers, hewn out of the solid
rock, with a lamp burning before it, and wreaths of
flowers adorning its brows. At a little distance from
the image of the god stood a basin full of water, in
which such travellers performed their ablutions as
designed to light the sacred lamps, or make any other
offering in honour of the divinity.
Towards the afternoon of the first day’s journey
they arrived at the harbour of Omura, on the shore
of which they observed the smoke of a small volcano.
Pearl oysters were found in this bay; and
the sands upon the coast had once been strewn with
gold, but the encroachment of the sea had inundated
this El Doradian beach. Next morning they passed
within sight of a prodigious camphor-tree, not less
than thirty-six feet in circumference, standing upon
the summit of a craggy and pointed hill; and soon
afterward arrived at a village famous for its hot-baths.
After passing through another village, they
reached a celebrated porcelain manufactory, where
the clay used was of a fat-coloured white, requiring
much kneading, washing, and cleansing, before it
could be employed in the formation of the finer and
more transparent vessels. The vast labour required
in this manufacture gave rise to the old saying, that
porcelain was formed of human bones.
The country through which they now travelled
was agreeably diversified with hill and dale, cultivated
like a garden, and sprinkled with beautiful
fields of rice, enclosed by rows of the tea-shrub,
planted at a short distance from the road. On the
next day they entered a plain country, watered by
numerous rivers, and laid out in rice-fields like the
former. In passing through this district they had
for the first time an opportunity of observing the
form and features of the women of the province of
Fisen. Though already mothers, and attended by
a numerous progeny, they were so diminutive in
stature that they appeared to be so many girls, while295
the paint which covered their faces gave them the
air of great babies or dolls. They were handsome,
however, notwithstanding that, in their quality of
married women, they had plucked out the hair of
both eyebrows; and their behaviour was agreeable
and genteel. At Sanga, the capital of the province,
he remarked the same outrageous passion for painting
the face in all the sex, though they were naturally
the most beautiful women in Asia; and, as might
be conjectured from the rosy colour of their lips,
possessed a fine healthy complexion.
Upon quitting the province of Fisen, and entering
that of Toussima, a mountainous and rugged country,
they travelled in a rude species of palanquin
called a cango, being nothing more than a small
square basket, open on all sides, though covered at
top, and carried upon a pole by two bearers. In
ascending the mountain of Fiamitz they passed
through a village, the inhabitants of which, they
were told, were all the descendants of one man,
who was then living. Whether this was true or not,
Kæmpfer found them so handsome and well formed,
and at the same time so polished and humane in
their conversation and manners, that they seemed to
be a race of noblemen. The scenery in this district
resembled some of the woody and mountainous
parts of Germany, consisting of a rapid succession
of hills and valleys, covered with copses or woods;
and though in some few places too barren to admit of
cultivation, yet, where fertile, so highly valued, that
even the tea-shrub was only allowed to occupy the
space usually allotted to enclosures.
On the 17th of February they reached the city of
Kokura, in the province of Busen. Though considerably
fallen from its ancient opulence and splendour,
Kokura was still a large city, fortified by towers
and bastions, adorned with many curious gardens
and public buildings, and inhabited by a numerous
population. Here they moved through two long296
lines of people, who lined both sides of the way, and
knelt in profound silence while they passed. They
then embarked in barges; and, sailing across the
narrow strait which divides the island of Kiersu
from Nisson, landed at Simonoseki in the latter
island, the name of which signified the prop of the
sun. Next day being Sunday, they remained at Simonoseki;
and Kæmpfer strolled out to view the
city and its neighbourhood. He found it filled with
shops of all kinds, among which were those of certain
stonecutters, who, from a black and gray species
of serpentine stone, dug from the quarries in
the vicinity, manufactured inkstands, plates, boxes,
and several other articles, with great neatness and
ingenuity. He likewise visited a temple erected to
the manes of a young prince who had prematurely
perished. This he found hung, like their theatres,
with black crape, while the pavement was partly
covered with carpets inwrought with silver. The
statue of the royal youth stood upon an altar; and
the Japanese who accompanied our traveller bowed
before it, while the attendant priest lit up a lamp,
and pronounced a kind of funeral oration in honour
of the illustrious dead. From the temple they were
conducted into the adjoining monastery, where they
found the prior, a thin, grave-looking old man, clothed
in a robe of black crape, who sat upon the floor;
and making a small present to the establishment,
they departed.
Next morning, February 19th, they embarked for
Osaki, preferring the voyage by water to a toilsome
journey over a rude and mountainous region; and,
after sailing through a sea thickly studded with
small islands, the greater number of which were
fertile and covered with population, arrived in five
days at their point of destination. Osaki, one of
the five imperial cities of Japan, was a place of considerable
extent and great opulence. The streets
were broad, and in the centre of the principal ones297
ran a canal, navigable for small unmasted vessels,
which conveyed all kinds of merchandise to the
doors of the merchants; while upwards of a hundred
bridges, many of which were extremely beautiful,
spanned these canals, and communicated a
picturesque and lively air to the whole city. The
sides of the river were lined with freestone, which
descended in steps from the streets to the water,
and enabled persons to land or embark wherever
they pleased. The bridges thrown over the main
stream were constructed with cedar, elegantly railed
on both sides, and ornamented from space to space
with little globes of brass. The population of the
city was immense; and, like those of most seaport
towns, remarkably addicted to luxury and voluptuousness.
From Osaki they proceeded through a plain country,
planted with rice, and adorned with plantations
of Tsadanil trees, to Miako, the ancient capital of
Japan. It being the first day of the month, which
the Japanese keep as a holyday, they met great
multitudes of people walking out of the city, as the
Londoners do on Sunday, to enjoy the sweets of
cessation from labour,
With pleasaunce of the breathing fields yfed,
to visit the temples, and give themselves up to all
kinds of rural diversions. Nothing could be more
grotesque than the appearance of these crowds.
The women were richly dressed in various-coloured
robes, with a purple-coloured silk about their foreheads,
and wearing large straw hats, to defend their
beauty from the sun. Here and there among the
multitude were small groups of beggars, some
dressed in fantastic garbs, with strange masks upon
their faces, others walking upon high iron stilts,
while a third party walked along bearing large pots
with green trees upon their heads. The more
merry among them sung, whistled, played upon the298
flute, or beat little bells which they carried in their
hands. In the streets were numbers of open shops,
jugglers, and players, who were exercising their
skill and ingenuity for the amusement of the crowd.
The temples, which were erected on the slope of
the neighbouring green hills, were illuminated with
numerous lamps, and the priests, no less merry or
active than their neighbours, employed themselves
in striking with iron hammers upon some bells or
gongs, which sent forth a thundering sound over the
country. Through this enlivening scene they pushed
on to their inn, where they were ushered into apartments,
which, being like all other apartments in the
empire, destitute of chimneys, resembled those
Westphalian smoking-rooms in which they smoke
their beef and hams.
Having visited the governor, and the lord chief
justice of Miako, and delivered the customary presents,
the embassy proceeded towards Jeddo. Short,
however, as was their stay, Kæmpfer found leisure
for observing and describing the city, which was
extensive, well-built, and immensely populous. Being
the chief mercantile and manufacturing town
in the empire, almost every house was a shop, and
every man an artisan. Here, he observes, they refined
copper, coined money, printed books, wove
the richest stuffs, flowered with gold and silver,
manufactured musical instruments, the best-tempered
sword-blades, pictures, jewels, toys, and every
species of dress and ornaments.
They departed from Miako in palanquins on
the 2d of March, and travelling through a picturesque
country, dotted with groves, glittering with
temples and lakes, and admirably cultivated, arrived
in three days at the town of Mijah, where they saw
a very curious edifice, called the “Temple of the
Three Scimitars,” where three miraculous swords,
once wielded by demigods, are honoured with a
kind of divine worship. On the 13th of March they299
arrived, by a fine road running along the edge of
the sea, at Jeddo, and entered the principal street,
where they encountered as they rode along numerous
trains of princes and great lords, with ladies
magnificently dressed, and carried in chairs or palanquins.
This city, the largest and most populous in
the empire, stands at the bottom of a large bay or
gulf, and is at least twenty miles in circumference.
Though fortified by numerous ditches and ramparts,
Jeddo is not surrounded by a wall. A noble river,
which divides itself into numerous branches, intersects
it in various directions, and thus creates a
number of islands which are connected by magnificent
bridges. From the principal of these bridges, which
is called Niponbas, or the Bridge of Japan, the great
roads leading to all parts of the empire radiate as
lines from a common centre, and thence likewise
all roads and distances are measured. Though
houses are not kept ready built, as at Moscow, to
be removed at a moment’s notice in case of destruction
by fire or any other accident, they are
generally so slight, consisting entirely of wood and
wainscotting, that they may be erected with extraordinary
despatch. Owing to the combustible materials
of those edifices, the very roofs consisting
of mere wood-shavings, while all the floors are covered
with mats, Jeddo is exceedingly liable to fires,
which sometimes lay waste whole streets and quarters
of the city. To check these conflagrations in
their beginnings every house has a small wooden
cistern of water on the house-top, with two mops
for sprinkling the water; but these precautions
being frequently found inefficient, large companies
of firemen constantly patrol the streets, day and
night, in order, by pulling down some of the neighbouring
houses, to put a stop to the fires. The
imperial palace, five Japanese miles in circumference,
consists of several castles united together by
a wall, and surrounded by a deep ditch. The various300
structures which compose this vast residence are
built with freestone, and from amid the wilderness
of roofs a square white tower rises aloft, and, consisting
of many stories, each of which has its leaded
roof, ornamented at each corner with gilded dragons,
communicates to the whole scene an air of
singular grandeur and beauty. Behind the palace,
which itself stands upon an acclivity, the ground
continues to rise, and this whole slope is adorned,
according to the taste of the country, with curious
and magnificent gardens, which are terminated by
a pleasant wood on the top of a hill, planted with
two different species of plane-trees, whose starry
leaves, variegated with green, yellow, and red, are
exceedingly beautiful.
When their arrival at Jeddo was notified to the
imperial commissioners, to whom was intrusted the
regulation of foreign affairs, they were commanded
to be kept confined in their apartments, and strictly
guarded. This, in all probability, was to prevent
their discovering the tremendous accident which
had lately occurred in the city, where forty streets,
consisting of four thousand houses, had been burned
to the ground a few days before their arrival. Several
other fires, exceedingly destructive and terrific,
and an earthquake which shook the whole city to
its foundations, happened within a few days after
their arrival. On the 29th of March they were honoured
with an audience. Passing through the numerous
gates and avenues to the palace between
lines of soldiers, armed with scimitars, and clothed
in black silk, they were conducted into an apartment
adjoining the hall of audience, where they
were commanded to await the emperor’s pleasure.
As nothing could more forcibly paint the insolent
pride of this barbarian despot, or the degraded
position which, for the sake of gain, the Dutch
were content to occupy in Japan, I shall describe
this humiliating ceremony in the words of the301
traveller himself. “Having waited upwards of
an hour,” says he, “and the emperor having in the
mean while seated himself in the hall of audience,
Sino Comi (the governor of Nangasaki) and the
two commissioners came in and conducted our
resident into the emperor’s presence, leaving us
behind. As soon as he came thither, they cried out
aloud ‘Hollanda Captain!’ which was the signal for
him to draw near, and make his obeisance. Accordingly
he crawled on his hands and knees to a
place shown him, between the presents ranged in
due order on one side, and the place where the
emperor sat, on the other, and then kneeling, he
bowed his forehead quite down to the ground, and
so crawled backwards, like a crab, without uttering
one single word. So mean and short a thing is
the audience we have of this mighty monarch.”
After a second audience, to which they were invited
chiefly for the purpose of allowing the ladies
of the harem, who viewed them from behind screens,
an opportunity of seeing what kind of animals
Dutchmen were, and having despatched the public
business, which was the sole object of the embassy,
they returned to Nangasaki. During this second
visit to Jeddo, in the following year, nothing very
remarkable occurred, except that they were invited
to dine in the palace, and thus afforded an opportunity
of observing the etiquette of a Japanese feast.
Each guest was placed at a small separate table,
and the repast commenced with hot white cakes as
tough as glue, and two hollow loaves of large dimension,
composed of flour and sugar, and sprinkled
over with the seeds of the sesamum album. Then
followed a small quantity of pickled salmon; and
the magnificent entertainment was concluded with
a few cups of tea, which Kæmpfer assures us was
little better than warm water! When they had
devoured this sumptuous feast, they were conducted
towards the hall of audience, where, after having302
been questioned respecting their names and age by
several Buddhist priests and others, Kæmpfer was
commanded to sing a song, for the amusement of
the emperor and his ladies, who were all present,
but concealed behind screens. He of course obeyed,
and sung some verses which he had formerly written
in praise of a lady for whom he says he had
a very particular esteem. As he extolled the beauty
of this paragon to the highest degree, preferring it
before millions of money, the emperor, who appears
to have partly understood what he sung, inquired
the exact meaning of those words; upon which,
like a true courtier, our traveller replied that they
signified nothing but his sincere wishes that Heaven
might bestow “millions of portions of health, fortune,
and prosperity upon the emperor, his family,
and court.” The various members of the embassy
were then commanded, as they had been on the
former audience, to throw off their cloaks, to walk
about the room, and to exhibit in pantomime in
what manner they paid compliments, took leave of
their parents, mistresses, or friends, quarrelled,
scolded, and were reconciled again. Another repast,
somewhat more ample than the preceding, followed
this farce, and their audience was concluded.
Having now remained in Asia ten years, two of
which were spent in Japan, the desire of revisiting
his native land was awakened in his mind, and quitting
Japan in the month of November, 1692, he
sailed for Batavia. Here, in February, 1693, he
embarked for Europe. The voyage lasted a whole
year, during which they were constantly out at sea,
with the exception of a few weeks, which they
spent upon the solitudes of an African promontory,
for so he denominates the Cape of Good Hope. He
arrived at Amsterdam in the October following;
and now, after having, as M. Eriès observes, pushed
his researches almost beyond the limits of the old
world, began to think of taking his doctor’s degree,303
a measure which most physicians are careful to expedite
before they commence their peregrinations.
He was honoured with the desired title at Leyden,
in April, 1694, and custom requiring an inaugural
discourse, he selected for the purpose ten of the
most singular of those dissertations which he afterward
published in his “Amœnitates.”
This affair, which is still, I believe, considered important
in Germany, being concluded, he returned
to his own country, where his reputation and agreeable
manners, together with the honour of being appointed
physician to his sovereign, the Count de
Lippe, overwhelmed him with so extreme a practice
that he could command no leisure for digesting and
arranging the literary materials, the only riches, as
he observes, which he had amassed during his travels.
However, busy as he was, he found opportunities
of conciliating the favour of some fair Westphalian,
who, he hoped, might deliver him from a
portion of his cares. In this natural expectation he
was disappointed. The lady, far from concurring
with her lord in smoothing the rugged path of human
life, was a second Xantippe, and, as one of
Kæmpfer’s nephews relates, poured more fearful
storms upon his head than those which he had endured
on the ocean. His marriage, in fact, was altogether
unfortunate; for his three children, who
might, perhaps, have made some amends for their
mother’s harshness, died in the cradle.
It was upwards of eighteen years after his return
that he published the first fruits of his travels and
researches—the “Amœnitates Exoticæ;” which,
however, immediately diffused his reputation over
the whole of Europe. But his health had already
begun to decline, and before he could prepare for the
press any further specimens of his capacity and
learning, death stepped in, and snatched him away
from the enjoyment of his fame and friends, on the
2d of November, 1716, in the 66th year of his age.304
He was interred in the cathedral church of St.
Nicholas, at Lemgow; and Berthold Haeck, minister
of the town, pronounced a funeral sermon, or panegyric,
over his grave, which was afterward printed.
Upon the death of Kæmpfer being made known
in England, Sir Hans Sloane, whose ardour for the
improvement of science is well known, commissioned
the German physician of George I., who
happened to be at that time proceeding to Hanover,
to make inquiries respecting our traveller’s manuscripts,
and to purchase them, if they were to be
disposed of. They were accordingly purchased, together
with all his drawings; and on their being
brought to England, Dr. Scheuchzer, a man of considerable
ability, was employed to translate the
principal work, the “History of Japan,” into English.
From this version, which has since been
proved to have been executed with care and fidelity,
it was translated into French by Desmaigeneux, and
retranslated into German in an imperfect and slovenly
manner. However, after the lapse of many
years, the original MS was faithfully copied, and the
work, hitherto known to our traveller’s own countrymen
chiefly through foreign translations, published
in Germany. Many of Kæmpfer’s manuscripts still
remain unpublished in the British Museum.
Kæmpfer may very justly be ranked among the
most distinguished of modern travellers. To the
most extensive learning he united an enterprising
character, singular rectitude of judgment, great
warmth of fancy, and a style of remarkable purity
and elegance. His “Amœnitates” and “History of
Japan” may, in fact, be reckoned among the most
valuable and interesting works which have ever been
written on the manners, customs, or natural history
of the East.
HENRY MAUNDRELL.
Of the birth, education, and early life of this traveller
little or nothing appears to be known with certainty.
His friends, who were of genteel rank, since
he calls Sir Charles Hodges, judge of the High
Court of Admiralty, his uncle, seem to have resided
in the neighbourhood of Richmond. Having completed
his studies, and taken the degree of master of
arts at Oxford, he was appointed chaplain to the
English factory at Aleppo, and departed from
England in the year 1695. Part of this journey
was performed by land; but whether it passed off
smoothly, or was diversified by incidents and adventures,
we are left to conjecture, our traveller not
having thought his movements of sufficient importance
to be known to posterity. It is simply recorded
that he passed through Germany, and made
some short stay at Frankfort, where he conversed
with the celebrated Job Ludolphus, who, learning
his design of residing in Syria, and visiting the Holy
Land, communicated to him several questions, the
clearing up of which upon the spot might, it was
hoped, tend to illustrate various passages in the Old
and New Testaments.
Shortly after his arrival at Aleppo, he undertook,
in company with a considerable number of his flock,
that journey to Jerusalem which, short and unimportant
as it was, has added his name to the list of
celebrated travellers; so pleasantly, ingenuously,
and delightfully is it described. The history of the
short period of his life consumed in this excursion
is all that remains to us; and this is just sufficient to
excite our regret that we can know no more; for,306
from the moment of his introduction into our company
until he quits us to carry on his pious and
noiseless labours at Aleppo, diversified only by
friendly dinners and rural promenades or hunting,
we view his character with unmingled satisfaction.
He was a learned, cheerful, able, conscientious man,
who viewed with a pleasure which he has not
sought either to exaggerate or disguise the spots
rendered venerable by the footsteps or sufferings of
Christ, and of the prophets, martyrs, and apostles.
Maundrell and his companions departed from
Aleppo on the 26th of February, 1696, and crossing
the plains of Kefteen, which are fruitful, well cultivated,
and of immense extent, arriving in two days
at Shogr, a large but dirty town on the banks of the
Orontes, where there was a splendid khan erected
by the celebrated Grand Vizier Kuperli, on the next
day they entered the pashalic of Tripoli; travelling
through a woody, mountainous country, beneath the
shade of overarching trees, amused by the roar of
torrents, or by the sight of valleys whose green turf
was sprinkled with myrtles, oleanders, tulips, anemonies,
and various other aromatic plants and flowers.
In traversing a low valley they passed over a
stream rolling through a narrow rocky channel
ninety feet deep, which was called the Sheïkh’s Wife,
an Arab princess having formerly perished in this
dismal chasm.
Crossing Gebel Occaby, or the “Mountain of Difficulty,”
which, according to our traveller, fully deserves
its name, they arrived towards evening at
Belulca, a village famous for its wretchedness, and
for the extremely humble condition to which Christianity
is there reduced,—Christ being, to use his own
expressive words, once more laid in a manger in that
place. The poorness of their entertainment urged
them to quit Belulca as quickly as possible, though
the weather, which during the preceding day had
been extremely bad, was still far from being settled;307
and they had not proceeded far before they began to
regret this miserable resting-place, the rains bursting
out again with redoubled violence, breaking up
the roads, and swelling the mountain torrents to
overflowing. At length, however, they arrived opposite
a small village, to reach which they had only
to cross a little rivulet, dry in summer, but now increased
by the rains to a considerable volume, and
found upon trial to be impassable. In this dilemma,
they had merely the choice of returning to the miserable,
inhospitable den where they had passed the
preceding night, or of pitching their tent where they
were, and awaiting the falling of the stream. The
latter appeared the preferable course, though the
weather seemed to menace a second deluge, the
most terrible thunder and lightning now mingling
with and increasing the horrors of the storm; while
their servants and horses, whom their single tent
was too small to shelter, stood dripping, exposed to
all the fury of the heavens. At length a small
sheïkh’s house, or burying-place, was discovered in
the distance, where they hoped to be allowed to
take shelter along with the saints’ bones; but the
difficulty was how to gain admittance, it being probable
that the people of the village would regard the
approach of so many infidels to the tomb of their
holy men as a profanation not to be endured. To
negotiate this matter, a Turk, whom they had brought
along with them for such occasions, was despatched
towards the villagers, to obtain permission peaceably,
if possible; if not, to inform them that they
would enter the edifice by force. It is possible that
the Ottoman exceeded his instructions in his menaces;
for the indignation of the villagers was roused,
and declaring that it was their creed to detest and
renounce Omar and Abubeer, while they honoured
Ahmed and Ali, they informed the janizary that they
would die upon the infidels’ swords rather than submit
to have their faith defiled. The travellers on308
their part assured them that the opinion they entertained
of Omar and Abubeer was in no respect better
than their own; that they had no intention whatever
to defile their holy places; and that their only
object at present was to obtain somewhere or another
a shelter from the inclemency of the weather.
This apparent participation in their sectarian feelings
somewhat mollified their disposition, and they
at length consented to unlock the doors of the tomb,
and allow the infidels to deposite their baggage in it;
but with respect to themselves, it was decreed by
the remorseless villagers that they were to pass the
night sub Jove. When our travellers saw the door
opened, however, they began secretly to laugh at
the beards of the honest zealots, being resolved, as
soon as sleep should have wrapped itself round
these poor people like a cloak, as Sancho words it,
to steal quietly into the tomb, and dream for once
upon a holy grave. They did so; but either the anger
of the sheïkh or their wet garments caused them to
pass but a melancholy night.
Next morning, the waters of the river, which rose
and fell with equal rapidity, having sunk to their ordinary
level, they issued forth from their sacred
apartments, and proceeding westward for some time,
they at length ascended a lofty eminence, from
whence, across a wide and fertile plain, they discovered
the city of Latichen, founded by Seleucus Nicator
on the margin of the sea. Leaving this city
and the Mediterranean on the right-hand, and a high
ridge of mountains on the left, they proceeded
through the plain towards Gibili, the ancient Gabala,
where they arrived in the evening, and remained one
day to recruit themselves. In the hills near this
city were found the extraordinary sect of the Nessariah,
which still subsists, and are supposed to be a
remnant of the ancient pagan population, worshippers
of Venus-Mylitta and the sun.
Proceeding southward along the seacoast they309
crossed the Nahrel-Melek, or King’s River, passed
through Baneas, the ancient Balanea, and arrived
towards sunset at Tortosa, the Orthosia of antiquity,
erected on the edge of a fertile plain so close to the
sea that the spray still dashes among its crumbling
monuments. Continuing their journey towards Tripoli,
they beheld on their right, at about three miles’
distance from the shore, the little island of Ruad,
the Arvad or Alphad of the Scriptures, and the Andus
of the Greeks and Romans, a place which, though
not above two or three furlongs in length, was once
renowned for its distant naval expeditions and immense
commerce, in which it maintained for a time
a rivalry even with Tyre and Sidon themselves.
Having travelled thus far by forced marches, as it
were, they determined to remain a whole week at
Tripoli, to repose their “wearied virtue,” and by
eating good dinners and making merry with their
friends, prepare themselves for the enduring of those
“slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,” which
all flesh, but especially travelling flesh, is heir to.
But the more fortunate and happy the hero of the
narrative happens to be, the more unfortunate and
melancholy is his biographer, for happiness is extremely
dull and insipid to every one except the individual
who tastes it. For this reason we hurry as
fast as possible over all the bright passages of a
man’s life, but dwell with delight on his sufferings,
his perils, his hair-breadth escapes, not, as some
shallow reasoners would have it, because we rejoice
at the misfortunes of another, but because our sympathies
can be awakened by nothing but manifestations
of intellectual energy and virtue, which shine
forth most gloriously, not on the calm waves of enjoyment,
but amid the storms and tempests of human
affairs.
We therefore snatch our traveller from the rural
parties and cool valleys of Tripoli, in order to expose
him to toil and the spears of the Arabs. The310
week of pleasure being expired, the party set forward
towards the south, and proceeding for five
hours along the coast, arrived at a high rocky promontory,
intersecting the road, and looking with a
smooth, towering, and almost perpendicular face
upon the sea. This appears to be the promontory
called by Strabo, but wherefore is not known, τὸ του
Θεου Προσώπον, or the Face of God. Near this strangely-named
spot they encamped for the night under the
shade of a cluster of olive-trees. Surmounting this
steep and difficult barrier in the morning, they pursued
their way along the shore until they arrived at
Gabail, the ancient Byblus, a place once famous for
the birth and worship of Adonis. In this place they
made little or no stay, pushing hastily forward to
the Nahr Ibrahim, the river Adonis of antiquity, the
shadows of Grecian fable crowding thicker and
thicker upon their minds as they advanced, and
bringing along with them sweet schoolboy recollections,
sunny dreams, which the colder phenomena
of real life never wholly expel from ardent and
imaginative minds. Here they pitched their tent,
on the banks of the stream, and prepared to pass
the night amid those fields where of old the virgins
of the country assembled to unite with the goddess
of beauty, in lamentations for Adonis,
Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured
The Syrian damsels to lament his fate
In amorous ditties all a summer’s day,
While smooth Adonis from his native rock
Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood
Of Thammuz yearly wounded: the love-tale
Infected Sion’s daughters with like heat,
Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch
Ezekiel saw, when by the vision led
His eye surveyed the dark idolatries
Of alienated Judah.
The night was rainy and tempestuous, and when
they looked out in the morning the Nahr Ibrahim
had assumed that sanguine hue, which, according to
Lucian, always distinguishes it at that season of the311
year in which the festival of Adonis was celebrated.
Nay, the stream not only “ran purple to the sea,”
but had actually, as they observed in travelling
along, communicated its bloody colour to the waves
of the Mediterranean to a considerable distance from
the land, just as the Nile discolours them at the
time of the inundation along the whole coast of the
Delta.
Their road now lay nearly at the foot of those
steep and rugged mountains which have for many
ages been inhabited by the Maronites, several of
whose convents they discerned perched like eagles’
nests on the bare summit of the crags. A road cut
for a considerable distance through the solid rock,
and a track still more rude and wild, worn by the
footsteps of travellers in the side of the mountain,
at length brought them to the river Lycus, or Canis,
the Nahr-el-Kelb, or “Dog’s River,” of the Turks
and Arabs. Proceeding along a low sandy shore,
and crossing the Nahr-el-Salib, they arrived at a
small field near the sea, where St. George, the patron
of England, acting over again the fable of Apollo
and Python, fought with and killed that mighty
dragon which still shows its shining scales on the
golden coin of Great Britain. A small chapel, now
converted into a mosque, was anciently erected on
the spot in commemoration of the exploit. In the
evening they arrived at Beiroot, where they remained
the following day, examining the ruins and present
aspect of the city.
The principal curiosities of Beiroot were the palace
and gardens of Fakreddin, fourth prince of the Druzes,
a people of Mount Lebanon, said to be descended
from the fragments of those Christian armies which,
after the final failure of the Crusades, were unable
or unwilling to return to their own countries, and
took up their residence in the mountain fastnesses
of the Holy Land. Originally the gardens of Fakreddin
must have been a little paradise. Even when312
Maundrell was there, after time and neglect had
considerably impaired their beauty, they were still
worthy of admiration. Large and lofty orange-trees
of the deepest verdure, among which the ripe yellow
fruit hung thickly suspended like oblong spheres of
gold, shaded the walks; while below small shining
rivulets of the purest water ran rippling along,
through channels of hewn stone, spreading coolness
through the air, and distributing themselves over
the gardens by many imperceptible outlets.
On leaving Beiroot they proceeded through a spacious
plain, and traversing a large grove of pine-trees,
planted by the Emīr Fakreddin, arrived in two
hours on the banks of the river Dammar, anciently
Tamyras, in which, about four years before, the
younger Spon had been drowned in proceeding northward
from Jerusalem. Coming up to the edge of
the stream, they found a number of men, who, observing
their approach, had stripped themselves
naked, in order to aid them in passing the stream;
but having previously learned that a bridge which
once spanned this river had been purposely broken
down by these officious guides, in order to render
their services necessary, and that, moreover, they
sometimes drowned travellers to obtain their property,
they disappointed the ruffians, and ascending
along the stream for some time, at length discovered
a ford, and crossed without their aid.
At the Awle, a small river about three miles north
of Sidon, our travellers were met by several French
merchants from this city, who, having been informed
of their drawing near, had come out to welcome
them. From these friends they learned, however,
that the French consul, who, being also consul of
Jerusalem, was compelled by the duties of his office
to visit the Holy City every Easter, had departed
from Sidon the day before; but that as he meant to
make some stay at Acra, they might hope to overtake
him there. On this account they again set out313
early next morning, and keeping close to the sea,
passed by the site of the ancient Sarepta, crossed
the Nahr-el-Kasmin, and in another hour arrived at
Tyre, where, notwithstanding their anxiety to place
themselves under the protection of the French
consul, who was travelling with an escort, they
were detained for a moment by the recollection of
the ancient glory of the place.
Having indulged their curiosity for an instant, they
again hurried forward, the phantom of the consul
still flitting before them, like the enchanted bird in
the Arabian Nights, and reached Ras-el-Am, or the
“Promontory of the Fountains,” where those famous
reservoirs called the “Cisterns of Solomon” are
situated. Our traveller, who had little respect for
traditions, conjectured that these works, however
ancient they might be, could not with propriety be
ascribed to the Hebrew king, since the aqueduct
which they were intended to supply was built upon
the narrow isthmus uniting the island to the continent,
constructed by Alexander during the siege of
the city; and we may be sure, he observes, that the
aqueduct cannot very well be older than the ground
it stands upon.
At Acra they found the consul, who had politely
delayed his departure to the last moment in order
to give them time to arrive; and next morning continued
their journey in his company. Crossing the
river Belus, on whose banks glass is said to have
been first manufactured, and making across the plain
towards the foot of Carmel, they entered the narrow
valley through which the ancient Kishon, famous
for the destruction of Sisera’s host, rolls its waters
towards the sea. After threading for many hours
the mazes of this narrow valley, they issued forth
towards evening upon the plains of Esdraelon sprinkled
with Arab flocks and tents, and in the distance
beheld the famous mounts of Tabor and Hermon,
and the sacred site of Nazareth. Here they learned314
the full force of the Psalmist’s poetical allusions to
the “dews of Hermon,” for in the morning they
found their tents as completely drenched by it as if
it had rained all night.
Paying the customary tribute to the Arabs as they
passed, they proceeded on their way, their eyes resting
at every step on some celebrated spot: Samaria,
Sichem, mounts Ebal and Gerizim, places rendered
venerable by the wanderings of prophets and patriarchs,
but hallowed in a more especial manner by
the footsteps of Christ. They now began to enter
upon a more rocky and mountainous country, and
passing by the spot where Jacob saw angels ascending
and descending, “in the vision of God,” and
Beer, supposed to be the Michmas of the Scriptures,
to which Jonathan fled from the revenge of his
brother Abimelech, arrived at the summit of a hill,
whence Rama, anciently Gibeah of Saul, the plain of
Jericho, the mountains of Gilead, and Jerusalem
itself were visible in one magnificent panorama.
Being in the Holy City, which no man, whether
believer or unbeliever, can visit without the most
profound emotion, Maundrell enjoyed unrestrainedly
the romantic delight of living where Christ had lived
and died, which to a high-minded religious man must
be one of the noblest pleasures which travelling can
afford. They resided, during their stay, at the Latin
convent, visiting the various places which are supposed
to possess any interest for pilgrims; such as
the church of the Sepulchre, on Mount Calvary, the
grotto of Jeremiah, the sepulchres of the kings, and
the other famous places within the precincts or in
the vicinity of the city.
Four days after their arrival they set out in company
with about two thousand pilgrims of both sexes
and of all nations, conducted by the mosselim, or
governor of the city, to visit the river Jordan. Going
out of the city by the gate of St. Stephen, they
crossed the valley of Jehoshaphat, with part of Mount315
Olivet, passed through Bethany, and arrived at that
mountain wilderness to which Christ was taken
forth to be tempted by the Devil. Here some terrible
convulsion of nature appears to have shattered
and rent in pieces the foundations of the everlasting
hills, swallowing up the summits, and thrusting up
in their stead the bases and substructions, as it were,
of the mighty masses. In the depths of a valley
which traversed this “land of desolation, waste and
wild,” were discovered the ruins of numerous cottages
and hermits’ cells, many ascetics having formerly
retired to this dreary region to waste away
their lives in solitary penance. From the top of
this mountain, however, the travellers enjoyed a
prospect of extraordinary diversity, comprehending
the mountains of Arabia, the Dead Sea, and the Plain
of Jericho, into the last of which they descended in
about five hours from the time of their leaving Jerusalem.
In this plain they saw the fountain of Elisha,
shaded by a broad-spreading tree. Jericho itself
had dwindled into a small wretched village, inhabited
by Arabs; and the plain beyond it, extending to the
Jordan, appeared to be blasted by the breath of
sterility, producing nothing but a species of samphire,
and similar stunted marine plants. Here and there,
where thin sheets of water, now evaporated by the
rays of the sun, had formerly spread themselves
over the marshy soil, a saline efflorescence, white
and glittering like a crust of snow, met the eye; and
the whole valley of the Jordan, all the way to the
Dead Sea, appeared to be impregnated with that
mineral. They found this celebrated river, which
in old times overflowed its banks, to be a small
stream not above twenty yards in breadth, which, to
borrow the words of the traveller, seemed to have
forgotten its former greatness, there being no sign
or probability of its rising, though the time, the
30th of March, was the proper season of the316
inundation. On the contrary, its waters ran at least
two yards below the brink of its channel.
Proceeding onwards towards the Dead Sea, they
passed over an undulating plain, in some places rising
into hillocks, resembling those places in England
where there have formerly been limekilns, and which
may possibly have been the scene of the overthrow
of the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah recorded in
Genesis. On approaching the Dead Sea, they observed
that on the east and west it was hemmed in
by mountains of vast height, between whose barren
ridges it stretched away, like a prodigious canal, farther
than the eye could reach towards the south.
On the north its limpid and transparent waters rattled
along a bed of black pebbles, which being held over
the flame of a candle quickly kindle, and, without
being consumed, emit a black smoke of intolerable
stench. Immense quantities of similar stones are
said to be found in the sulphureous hills bordering
upon the lake. None of the bitumen which the
waves of this sea occasionally disgorge was then to
be found, although it was reported that both on the
eastern and western shores it might be gathered in
great abundance at the foot of the mountains. The
structures of fable with which tradition and “superstitious
idle-headed Eld” had surrounded this famous
sea vanished, like the false waters of the desert, upon
examination. No malignant vapours ascended from
the surface of the waves, carrying death to the birds
which might attempt to fly over it. On the contrary,
several birds amused themselves in hovering
about and over the sea, and the shells of fish were
found among the pebbles on the shore. Those apples
of Sodom which, “atra et inania velut in cinerem
vanescunt,” according to the expression of Tacitus,
for a thousand years have furnished poets with
comparisons and similes, were found, like many
other beautiful things, to flourish only in song; there
being in the neighbourhood of the lake no trees upon317
which they could grow. The surprising force of the
water, which according to the great historian of
Rome sustained the weight even of those who had
not learned to buoy themselves up by art, was in a
great measure found to exist, and subsequent experiments
appear to support the opinion.
Returning thence to Jerusalem, and visiting Bethlehem
and the other holy places in its vicinity, they
at length departed on the 15th of April for Nazareth,
which they found to be an inconsiderable village on
the summit of a hill. Their road then lay through
their former track until they struck off to the right
through a defile of Mount Lebanon, entered the valley
of Bocat, and emerged through a gorge of Anti-Libanus
into the plain of Damascus, which, watered
by “Abana and Pharphar, lucid streams,” unfolded
itself before the eye in all that voluptuous beauty
glittering in a transparent atmosphere which intoxicated
the soul of the Arabian prophet, and caused
him to pronounce it too generative of delight. The
somewhat colder imagination of Maundrell was
strongly moved by the view of this incomparable
landscape. The City of the Sun (for such is the signification
of its oriental name) lifted up its gilded
domes, slender minarets, and tapering kiosks amid
a forest of deep verdure; while gardens luxuriant in
beauty, and wafting gales of the richest fragrance
through the air, covered the plain for thirty miles
around the city. The interior of the city was
greatly inferior to its environs, and disappointed the
traveller.
From Damascus, where they saw the Syrian caravan,
commanded by the Pasha of Tripoli, and consisting
of an army of pilgrims mounted on camels
and quaintly-caparisoned horses, depart for Mecca,
they proceeded to Baalbec, where they arrived on
the 5th of May. The magnificent ruins of this city
were then far less dilapidated than they are at present,
and called forth a corresponding degree of admiration318
from the travellers. The site of Baalbec,
on the cool side of a valley, between two lofty ridges
of mountains, is highly salubrious and beautiful; and
the creations of art which formerly adorned it were
no way inferior (and this is the highest praise the
works of man can receive!) to the beauties which nature
eternally reproduces in those delicious regions.
Time and the Ottomans, however, have shown that
they are less durable.
When a place affords nothing for the contemplation
of curiosity but the wrecks of former ages, it
usually detains the footsteps of the traveller but a
short time; and accordingly Maundrell and his companions
quitted Baalbec early next morning, and,
penetrating through the snowy defiles of Mount Lebanon
into the maritime plains of Syria, arrived in two
days at Tripoli. From hence, on the 9th of May,
Maundrell departed with a guide to visit the famous
cedars so frequently alluded to in the Scriptures, and
which, from the prodigious longevity of the tree,
may be those which the poets and prophets of Israel
viewed with so much admiration. The extreme
brevity of the original narrative permits us to describe
this excursion in the traveller’s own words:—“Having
gone for three hours across the plain of
Tripoli, I arrived,” says he, “at the foot of Libanus;
and from thence continually ascending, not without
great fatigue, came in four hours and a half to a
small village called Eden, and in two hours and a
half more to the cedars.
“These noble trees grow among the snow, near
the highest part of Lebanon, and are remarkable as
well for their own age and largeness as for those frequent
allusions made to them in the Word of God.
Here are some of them very old and of a prodigious
bulk, and others younger of a smaller size. Of the
former I could reckon up only sixteen, and the latter
are very numerous. I measured one of the largest,
and found it twelve yards six inches in girth, and yet319
sound, and thirty-seven yards in the spread of its
boughs. At about five or six yards from the ground
it was divided into five limbs, each of which was
equal to a great tree.”
Descending the mountain, and rejoining his friends
at Tripoli, they departed thence together; and returning
by the same road which they had pursued in
their journey to Jerusalem, they arrived in a few
days at Aleppo without accident or peril. Such is
the history of that brief excursion, which, being ably
and honestly described, has justly ranked Maundrell
among celebrated travellers. The date of his death
I have been unable to discover. This journey has
been translated into several modern languages, and
is held in no less estimation abroad than at home.
