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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My dear Brother,

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

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

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

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

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

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