On Sunday the 18th, when I had performed divine service in the Envoy’s tent, we paid a visit of ceremony to Mahomed Nebee Khan. According to the fashion of the country, we proceeded on horseback, although his tent was within a stone’s throw. We were met by one of his officers, and an escort of ten men, who made their obeisance to the Envoy, and preceded his horse, until we arrived at the door, where the Khan himself was waiting. He received us most graciously, and after we had pulled off our boots and shoes, and Sir Harford and the Khan had gone through some little polite difficulties about their seats, we finally settled ourselves on chairs prepared for us. The Khan’s tent was very neat, and appeared to us a most desirable residence. It had a large exterior covering, and close to the extremity a wall all round; and in the interior, there was a clean little recess closely covered with carpets, and lined with the finest chintz, the borders of which were adorned with a broad fringe. Our host was a man of great notoriety both in Persia and in India; his manners were greatly in his favour, and he was dressed more like a noble than any other man whom I had yet seen in the country. His beard presented no plebeian roughness, and the dagger in his girdle glittered with precious stones. When the usual compliments had been severally paid, that silence of solemnity, which generally marks the visits of form, succeeded, till the kaleoons, or water pipes, were introduced to our relief. The coffees and sherbets followed, and the whole entertainment concluded with a course of sweetmeats, which was brought upon separate trays, each serving two guests. The only unsatisfactory part of the visit was the intended politeness of two lusty attendants, who broke some of the sweetmeats in their suspicious hands, blew the dust off the fragments with their more suspicious mouths, and then laid them before us. After a washing of hands, (in which we felt the full want of towels), and a parting kaleoon, we took our leave, and left the Envoy to a private conference with the Khan.
The trays, from which we eat, had the appearance of silver, though I understood afterwards that they were plated only. They were neatly carved in flowers and other ornaments. The articles which they contained were made of almonds, pistachio nuts, and a paste of sugar; others were like our alicampane and barley sugar, and all were very nice. The Persians are almost indescribably fond of sweetmeats, which they eat in very great quantities. The abundance indeed of fruits and sherbets presented daily to the Envoy by the Mehmandar, proved the immense supply which the taste of the country demanded. The presents were arranged prettily in trays and boxes, and carried in great form on the heads of servants, but they were less acceptable, because for each the conductor required a present in money. By such means the great men in Persia pay their servants, who in general receive no other wages. The person, therefore, to whom such an office as that of Mehmandar is entrusted, is, of course, surrounded by hordes of adherents, who are allured by receipts so certain and valuable.
The new Governor had consulted the astrologers of Bushire to determine the most propitious time for his entrance into the town, which, by their predictions, was at three hours before sun-set on the 19th. In conformity therefore to the decision, he was now delaying his advance till the happier period should arrive. When, on a former occasion, he was departing from Bushire to embark on board the ship, which was to carry him on his mission to Calcutta, he was ordered by these astrologers (as the only means of counteracting the influence of a certain evil star) to go out of his house in a particular aspect: as unfortunately there happened to be no door in that direction, he caused a hole to be made in the wall, and thus made his exit.
In the evening we dined with Mahomed Nebee Khan. We did not go till the Khan had sent to the Envoy to say, that the entertainment was ready for his reception, a custom always observed on such occasions.[26] When we arrived at his tent, the same ceremonies passed as in the morning, except that we sat upon the ground, where the inflexibility of our knees rendered the position more difficult than can be described. The Khan, who seemed to commiserate the tightness of our pantaloons, begged that we would extend our legs at their full length: fearing, however, to be rude, we chose to be uncomfortable, and to imitate their fashion as faithfully as possible; and really, with respect to my own feelings, I thought complaisance was never carried further. The guests besides ourselves, were our Mehmandar and the Persian Secretary. I preserved part of the conversation: in talking of the admirable skill with which the guns of the Nereide were fired in the re-capture of the Sylph, the Mehmandar said to the Secretary, “you ought to have kissed the lips of those guns, whose execution was so effectual; and walked around and around them, and in gratitude for your deliverance, to have put up prayers to Heaven for their preservation and prosperity.”
After having sat some time kaleoons were brought in, then coffee, then kaleoons, then sweet coffee (the composition already noticed of sugar and rose-water); and then kaleoons again. All this was rapidly performed, when the Khan called for dinner. On the ground before us was spread the sofra, a fine chintz cloth, which perfectly entrenched our legs, and which is used so long unchanged, that the accumulated fragments of former meals collect into a musty paste, and emit no very savory smell; but the Persians are content, for they say that changing the sofra brings ill luck. A tray was then placed before each guest; on these trays were three fine china bowls, which were filled with sherbets; two made of sweet liquors, and one of a most exquisite species of lemonade. There were besides, fruits ready cut, plates with elegant little arrangements of sweetmeats and confectionary, and smaller cups of sweet sherbet; the whole of which were placed most symetrically, and were quite inviting, even by their appearance. In the vases of sherbet were spoons made of the pear tree, with very deep bowls, and worked so delicately, that the long handle just slightly bent when it was carried to the mouth. The pillaus succeeded, three of which were placed before each two guests; one of plain rice called the chillo, one made of mutton with raisins and almonds, the other of a fowl, with rich spices and plumbs. To this were added various dishes with rich sauces, and over each a small tincture of sweet sauce. Their cooking, indeed, is mostly composed of sweets. The business of eating was a pleasure to the Persians, but it was misery to us. They comfortably advanced their chins close to the dishes, and commodiously scooped the rice or other victuals into their mouths, with three fingers and the thumb of their right hand; but in vain did we attempt to approach the dish: our tight-kneed breeches, and all the ligaments and buttons of our dress, forbade us; and we were forced to manage as well as we could, fragments of meat and rice falling through our fingers all around us. When we were all satisfied, dinner was carried away with the same state in which it was brought: the servant who officiated, dropping himself gracefully on one knee, as he carried away the trays, and passing them expertly over his head with both his hands, extended to the lacquey, who was ready behind to carry them off. We were treated with more kaleoons after dinner, and then departed to our beds.
On the morning of the 19th, the camp broke up at sun-rise. We took a hasty breakfast in the Envoy’s tent, but a visit from Mahomed Nebee Khan (which was preceded by a present of two horses and his own sword) kept us on the ground till nine o’clock. The Khan, with all his attendants, accompanied us about two miles. He was preparing to enter Bushire, his new government, with all splendour. From the town to the swamps were erected stages on which bullocks were to be sacrificed, and from which their heads were to be thrown under his horse’s feet, as he advanced; a ceremony indeed appropriated to Princes alone, and to them, only on particular occasions. Yet, however anxious originally for his station, and however splendid in his present appearances, he felt the full dangers of his pre-eminence, and betrayed an absence and uneasiness in his words and actions, which to us evinced all his apprehensions. He was so conscious indeed of the difficulties of his situation, that he had transmitted to the King a present of two thousand tomauns, with a memorial, beseeching to be excused from his government.
We marched at first north-westerly, till we came to the bed of a river, or rather of a mountain-torrent, in which the actual stream of water when we passed, was not above ten feet in breadth, though the channel itself was perhaps thirty yards. It falls into the sea in a due E. and W. direction.
At two o’clock we came to Ahmadiéh: at half past two we passed a small fort called Khosh Aub, where a large body of people were waiting our passage.[27] They were all armed with pikes, matchlocks, swords and shields; and gave us two vollies as a salute. They then advanced to us, and being announced by the Arz-beg, wished us a prosperous journey. They were answered by the usual civility, “khosh amedeed, you are welcome.” As we proceeded, our party was headed by the soldiery. They were commanded by a man on horseback, all in tatters, who with his whip kept them together, and excited them with his voice where he wanted them to run. Two of the chosen of the village performed feats before us on their lean horses, and helped to increase the excessive dust, which involved us. This party kept pace with us, until we were again met by a similar host, the van of the little army who were waiting our reception at Borazjoon: these also fired their muskets.
From Khosh Aub to Borazjoon the ground appeared cultivated; and as we were approaching the latter village, we saw some of the peasants, who, after having finished their toil in the fields were walking home with their ploughs over their shoulders. I think we may fairly reckon at twenty-five miles the distance from Alichangee to Borazjoon: the Persians call it nine fursungs. The avenues to Borazjoon are through plantations of date and tamarisk trees: the village is a collection of huts, which surround a fort; and the fort, like the rest of those which I had seen, was a square, with turrets at each corner, which were cut into small chequers at the top. There are the ruins of many small forts all over the Dashtistan, which were built by some unsuccessful rebel, and which were left to decay as soon as he was quelled. I understand that the population of this district has been decreasing ever since the happy days of Sheik Nasr. Almost the whole of its geography present places which have names, but no inhabitants; or if there are any, they are the refuse only of former more flourishing families.
In our road to-day, we saw immense flights of the toowee, or desert partridge, and some ravens. The Mehmandar and the oldest of our moonshees amused themselves in scouring the plains, and playing at the dangerous game of the girid, in which the old scribe got a severe blow. The Persians ride with great courage, for they drive their horses at their greatest speed over any ground. They of course get frequent falls, by which they are seldom much injured; for though they generally alight on their heads, they are there saved by their immense sheep-skin caps.[28]