The family to which he became thus suddenly known was originally of Mardin, but about fourteen years previously had been driven from thence by the Kurds, who sacked and plundered the city, and reduced such of the inhabitants as they could capture to slavery. They were Christians of the Nestorian sect; but Della Valle, who was a bigot in his way, seems to have regarded them as aliens from the church of Christ. However, this circumstance did not prevent the image of Sitti Maani, the eldest of the old man’s daughters, and the beauty of whom he had heard so glowing a description in the desert, from finding its way into his heart, though the idea of marrying having occurred to him at Aleppo, he had written home to his relations to provide him with a suitable wife against his return to Italy. Maani was now in her eighteenth year. Her mind had been as highly cultivated as the circumstances of the times and the country would allow; and her understanding enabled her to turn all her accomplishments to advantage. In person, she was a perfect oriental beauty; dark, even in the eyes of an Italian, with hair nearly black, and eyes of the same colour, shaded by lashes of unusual length, she possessed something of an imperial air. Pietro was completely smitten, and for the present every image but that of Maani seemed to be obliterated from his mind.
His knowledge of the Turkish language was now of the greatest service to him; for, possessing but a very few words of Arabic, this was the only medium by which he could make known the colour of his thoughts either to his mistress or her mother. His passion, however, supplied him with eloquence, and by dint of vehement protestations, in this instance the offspring of genuine affection, he at length succeeded in his enterprise, and Maani became his wife. But in the midst of these transactions, when it most imported him to remain at Bagdad, an event occurred in his own house which not only exposed him to the risk of being driven with disgrace from the city, but extremely endangered his life and that of all those who were connected with him. His secretary and valet having for some time entertained a grudge against each other, the former, one day seizing the khanjar, or dagger, of Pietro, stabbed his adversary to the heart, and the poor fellow dropped down dead in the arms of his master. The murderer fled. What course to pursue under such circumstances it was difficult to determine. Should the event come to the knowledge of the pasha, both master and servants might, perhaps, be thought equally guilty, and be impaled alive; or, if matters were not pushed to such extremities, it might at least be pretended that the deceased was the real owner of whatever property they possessed, in order to confiscate the whole for the benefit of the state. As neither of these results was desirable, the safest course appeared to be to prevent, if possible, the knowledge of the tragedy from transpiring; a task of some difficulty, as all the domestics of the household were acquainted with what had passed. The only individual with whom Pietro could safely consult upon this occasion (for he was unwilling to disclose so horrible a transaction to Maani’s relations) was a Maltese renegade, a man of some consideration in the city; and for him, therefore, he immediately despatched a messenger. This man, when he had heard what had happened, was of opinion that the body should be interred in a corner of the house; but Pietro, who had no desire that so bloody a memorial of the Italian temperament should remain in his immediate neighbourhood, and moreover considered it unsafe, thought it would be much better at the bottom of the Tigris. The Maltese, most fortunately, possessed a house and garden on the edge of the river, and thither the body, packed up carefully in a chest, was quickly conveyed, though there was much difficulty in preventing the blood from oozing out, and betraying to its bearers the nature of their burden. When it was dark the chest was put on board a boat, and, dropping down the river, the renegade and two of his soldiers cautiously lowered it into the water; and thus no material proof of the murder remained. The assassin, who had taken refuge at the house of the Maltese, was enabled to return to Italy; and the event, strange to say, was kept secret, though so many persons were privy to it.
When this danger was over, and the beautiful Maani irrevocably his, Pietro began once more to feel the passion of the traveller revive, and commenced those little excursions through Mesopotamia which afterward enabled Gibbon to pronounce him the person who had best observed that province. His first visit, as might be expected, was to the ruins of Babylon. The party with which he left Bagdad consisted of Maani, a Venetian, a Dutch painter, Ibrahim a native of Aleppo, and two Turkish soldiers. For the first time since the commencement of his travels, Pietro now selected the longest and least dangerous road, taking care, moreover, to keep as near as possible to the farms and villages, in order, in case of necessity, to derive provisions and succour from their inhabitants. Maani, who appears to have had a dash of Kurdish blood in her, rode astride like a man, and kept her saddle as firmly as any son of the desert could have done; and Pietro constantly moved along by her side. When they had performed a considerable portion of their journey, and, rejoicing in their good fortune, were already drawing near Babylon, eight or ten horsemen armed with muskets and bows and arrows suddenly appeared in the distance, making towards them with all speed. Pietro imagined that the day for trying his courage was now come; and he and his companions, having cocked their pieces and prepared to offer a desperate resistance, pushed on towards the enemy. However, their chivalric spirit was not doomed to be here put to the test; for, upon drawing near, the horsemen were found to belong to Bagdad, and the adventure concluded in civility and mutual congratulations.
Having carefully examined the ruins of Babylon, the city of Hillah, and the other celebrated spots in that neighbourhood, the party returned to Bagdad, from whence he again departed in a few days for Modain, the site of the ancient Ctesiphon, near which he had the satisfaction of observing the interior of an Arab encampment.
His curiosity respecting Mesopotamia was now satisfied; and as every day’s residence among the Ottomans only seemed more and more to inflame his hatred of that brutal race, he as much as possible hastened his departure from Bagdad, having now conceived the design of serving as a volunteer in the armies of Persia, at that period at war with Turkey, and of thus wreaking his vengeance upon the Osmanlees for the tyranny they exercised on all Christians within their power. Notwithstanding that war between the two countries had long been declared, the Pasha of Bagdad and the Persian authorities on the frontier continued openly to permit the passage of caravans; and thus, were he once safe out of Bagdad with his wife and treasures, there would be no difficulty in entering Persia. To effect this purpose he entered into an arrangement with a Persian muleteer, who was directed to obtain from the pasha a passport for himself and followers, with a charosh to conduct them to the extremity of the Turkish dominions. This being done, the Persian, according to agreement, left the city, and encamped at a short distance from the walls, where, as is the custom, he was visited by the officers of the custom-house; after which, Pietro caused the various individuals of his own small party to issue forth by various streets into the plain, while he himself, dressed as he used to be when riding out for amusement on the banks of the Tigris, quitted the town after sunset, and gained the place of encampment in safety.
When the night had now completely descended upon the earth, and all around was still, the little caravan put itself in motion; and being mounted, some on good sturdy mules, and others on the horses of the country, they advanced at a rapid rate, fearing all the way that the pasha might repent of his civility towards the Persian, and send an order to bring them back to the city. By break of day they arrived on the banks of the Diala, a river which discharges itself into the Tigris; and here, in spite of their impatience, they were detained till noon, there being but one boat at the ferry. In six days they reached the southern branches of the mountains of Kurdistan, and found themselves suddenly in the midst of that wild and hardy race, which, from the remotest ages, has maintained possession of these inexpugnable fastnesses, which harassed the ten thousand in their retreat, and still enact a conspicuous part in all the border wars between the Persians and Turks. Living for the most part in a dangerous independence, fiercely spurning the yoke of its powerful neighbours, though continually embroiled in their interminable quarrels, speaking a distinct language, and having a peculiar system of manners, which does not greatly differ from that of the feudal times, they may justly be regarded as one of the most extraordinary races of the Asiatic continent. Some of them, spellbound by the allurements of wealth and ease, have erected cities and towns, and addicted themselves to agriculture and the gainful arts. Others, preferring that entire liberty which of all earthly blessings is the greatest in the estimation of ardent and haughty minds, and regarding luxury as a species of Circean cup, in its effects debasing and destructive, covet no wealth but their herds and flocks, around which they erect no fortifications but their swords. These are attracted hither and thither over the wilds by the richness of the pasturage, and dwell in tents.
In Kurdistan, as elsewhere, the winning manners of Della Valle procured him a hospitable reception. The presence of Maani, too, whose youth and beauty served as an inviolable wall of protection among brave men, increased his claims to their hospitality; so that these savage mountaineers, upon whom the majority of travellers concur in heaping the most angry maledictions, obtained from the warm-hearted, grateful Pietro the character of a kind and gentle people. On the 20th of January, 1617, he quitted Kurdistan, and entered Persia. The change was striking. A purer atmosphere, a more productive and better-cultivated soil, and a far more dense population than in Turkey, caused him, from the suddenness of the transition, somewhat to exaggerate, perhaps, the advantages of this country. It is certain that the eyes of the traveller, like the fabled gems of antiquity, carry about the light by which he views the objects which come before him; and that the condition of this light is greatly affected by the state of his animal spirits. Pietro was now in that tranquil and serene mode of being consequent upon that enjoyment which conscience approves; and having passed from a place where dangers, real or imaginary, surrounded him, into a country where he at least anticipated safety, if not distinction, it was natural that his fancy should paint the landscape with delusive colours. Besides, many real advantages existed; tents were no longer necessary, there being at every halting-place a spacious caravansary, where the traveller could obtain gratis lodgings for himself and attendants, and shelter for his beasts and baggage. Fruits, likewise, such as pomegranates, apples, and grapes, abounded, though the earth was still deeply covered with snow. If we add to this that the Persians are a people who pique themselves upon their urbanity, and, whatever may be the basis of their character, with which the passing traveller has little to do, really conduct themselves politely towards strangers, it will not appear very surprising that Della Valle, who had just escaped from the boorish Ottomans, should have been charmed with Persia.
Arriving at Ispahan, at that period the capital of the empire, that is, the habitual place of residence of the shah, his first care, of course, was to taste a little repose; after which, he resumed his usual custom of strolling about the city and its environs, observing the manners, and sketching whatever was curious in costume and scenery. Here he remained for several months; but growing tired, as usual, of calm inactivity, the more particularly as the court was absent, he now prepared to present himself before the shah, then in Mazenderan. Accordingly, having provided a splendid litter for his wife and her sister, who, like genuine amazons, determined to accompany him to the wars should he eventually take up arms in the service of Persia, and provided every other necessary for the journey, he quitted Ispahan, and proceeded northward towards the shores of the Caspian Sea. The journey was performed in the most agreeable manner imaginable. Whenever they came up to a pleasant grove, a shady fountain, or any romantic spot where the greensward was sprinkled with flowers or commanded a beautiful prospect, the whole party made a halt; and the ladies, descending from their litter, which was borne by two camels, and Pietro from his barb, they sat down like luxurious gipsies to their breakfast or dinner, while the nightingales in the dusky recesses of the groves served them instead of a musician.
Proceeding slowly, on account of his harem, as he terms it, they arrived in seven days at Cashan, where the imprudence of Maani nearly involved him in a very serious affair. Being insulted on her way to the bezestein by an officer, she gave the signal to her attendants to chastise the drunkard, and, a battle ensuing, the unhappy man lost his life. When the news was brought to Pietro he was considerably alarmed; but on proceeding to the house of the principal magistrate, he very fortunately found that the affair had been properly represented to him, and that his people were not considered to have exceeded their duty. His wife, not reflecting that her masculine habits and fiery temperament were quite sufficient to account for the circumstance, now began to torment both herself and her husband because she had not yet become a mother; and supposing that in such cases wine was a sovereign remedy, she endeavoured to prevail upon Pietro, who was a water-drinker, to have recourse to a more generous beverage, offering to join with him, if he would comply, in the worship of Bacchus. Our traveller, who had already, as he candidly informs us, a small family in Italy, could not be brought to believe that the fault lay in his sober potations, and firmly resisted the temptations of his wife. With friendly arguments upon this and other topics they beguiled the length of the way, and at length arrived in Mazenderan, though Maani’s passion for horsemanship more than once put her neck in jeopardy on the road. The scene which now presented itself was extremely different from that through which they had hitherto generally passed. Instead of the treeless plains or unfertile deserts which they had traversed in the northern parts of Irak, they saw before them a country strongly resembling Europe; mountains, deep well-wooded valleys, or rich green plains rapidly alternating with each other, and the whole, watered by abundant streams and fountains, refreshed and delighted the eye; and he was as yet unconscious of the insalubrity of the atmosphere.
Pietro, who, like Petronius, was an “elegans formarum spectator,” greatly admired the beauty and graceful figures of the women of this province,—a fact which makes strongly against the idea of its being unhealthy; for it may generally be inferred, that wherever the women are handsome the air is good. Here and there they observed, as they moved along, the ruins of castles and fortresses on the acclivities and projections of the mountains, which had formerly served as retreats to numerous chiefs who had there aimed at independence. A grotto, which they discovered in a nearly inaccessible position in the face of a mountain, was pointed out to them as the residence of a virgin of gigantic stature, who, without associates or followers, like the virago who obstructed the passage of Theseus from Trœzene to Athens, formerly ravaged and depopulated that part of the country. This and similar legends of giants, which resemble those which prevail among all rude nations, were related to our traveller, who rejected them with disdain as utterly fabulous and contemptible, though not much more so, perhaps, than some which, as a true son of the Roman church, he no doubt held in reverence.