Chapter IX: Part 9

Though by no means liable to be dazzled by pompous exhibitions, Bernier could not refuse his admiration to the Great Mogul’s hall of audience, and the splendour of the peacock throne. In fact, the appearance of this hall upon one of the principal Mohammedan festivals he considered one of the most remarkable things which he saw during his travels. Upon entering the spacious and lofty saloon the first object which met the eye was the emperor himself seated upon his throne, and attired in the most magnificent and gorgeous style of the East. His robe was composed of white satin with small flowers, relieved by a rich border of silk and gold; his turban, of stiff cloth of gold, was adorned with an aigrette, the stem of which was crusted with diamonds of prodigious size and value, in the midst of which a large oriental topaz of unparalleled beauty blazed like a mimic sun; while a string of large pearls fell from his neck upon his bosom, like the beads of a devotee. The throne was supported upon six large feet of massive gold, set with rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. But its principal ornament were two peacocks, whose feathers were imitated by a crust of pearls and jewels. The real value of this throne could not be exactly ascertained, but it was estimated at four azores, or forty millions of rupees.—At the foot of the throne stood all the numerous emirs or princes of the court, magnificently apparelled, with a canopy of brocade with golden fringe overhead, and all round a balustrade of massive silver, to separate them from the crowd of ordinary mortals, who took their station without. The whole riches of the empire seemed collected there in one heap, for the purpose of dazzling and astonishing the crowd. The pillars of the saloon were hung round with brocade with a gold ground, and the whole of the end near the throne was shaded with canopies of flowered satin, attached with silken cords and nets of gold. Upon the floor immense silken carpets, of singular fineness and beauty, were spread for the feet of the courtiers. In short, wherever the eye could turn, the heart and secret thoughts of the assembly not being visible, its glances alighted upon a blaze of grandeur, above, around, below, until the aching sight would gladly have sought repose among the serener and more soothing beauties of external nature.

In the several visits which Bernier made to Agra, the object which principally attracted his attention was the celebrated taj, or tomb, of Nourmahal, the favourite wife of Shah Jehan, which he considered far more worthy than the pyramids to be enumerated among the wonders of the world. Leaving the city and proceeding towards the east, through a long, broad street, running between lofty garden-walls and fine new houses, he entered the imperial gardens. Here numerous structures, varying in their forms, yet all possessing their peculiar beauties, courted observation; but the enormous dome of the mausoleum, rising like the moon “inter minora sidera,” immediately absorbed all his attention. To the right and left dim covered walks and parterres of flowers yielded soft glimpses of shadow and a breeze of perfume as he moved along. At length he arrived in front of the building. In the centre rose a vast dome, which, together with the tall, slender minarets on both sides of it, was supported by a range of beautiful arches, partly closed up by a wall, and partly open. The façade of the structure consisted entirely of marble, white like alabaster; and in the centre of the closed arches were tablets of the same material, thickly inlaid with verses from the Koran, wrought in black marble. The interior of the dome was bordered, like the exterior, with white marble, thickly inlaid with jasper, cornelian, and lapis lazuli, delicately disposed in the form of flowers and other beautiful objects. The pavement was formed of alternate squares of black and white marble, disposed with singular art, and producing the finest effect imaginable upon the eye.

In the month of December, 1663, Aurungzebe, attended by his whole court, and an army of ten thousand foot and thirty-five thousand horse, undertook a journey into Cashmere, in the pleasures of which, through the favour of Danekmend Khan, Bernier was allowed to partake. Keeping as long as possible near the banks of the Jumna, in order to enjoy by the way the pleasures of the chase, and the salubrious waters of the river, the army proceeded towards its place of destination by the way of Lahere. The style of travelling adopted by the Great Mogul was perfectly unique. Two sets of tents numerous and spacious enough to contain the whole of the imperial retinue were provided, and of these one set was sent forward, previous to the emperor’s setting out, to the spot marked out for the first halting-place. Here the ground was levelled by the pioneers, the tents pitched, and every convenience provided which the luxurious effeminacy of oriental courtiers, and more particularly of the fretful and capricious inmates of the harem, could require. When the emperor arrived at his camp, a fresh body of pioneers and labourers proceeded with the second set of tents, which they pitched and prepared in like manner; and thus a kind of city, with all its luxuries and conveniences, perpetually moved in advance of the prince, and became stationary whenever and wherever he required it.

During the journey Aurungzebe generally travelled in a species of small turret or houdah, mounted on the back of an elephant. In fine weather this houdah was open on all sides, that the inmate might enjoy the cool breeze from whatever quarter of the heavens it might blow; but when storms or showers came on, he closed his casements, and reclined upon his couch, defended from all the inclemencies of the weather as completely as in the apartments of his palace. Ranchenara Begum, the sister of the emperor, and the other great ladies of the harem, travelled in the same kind of moving palace, mounted upon camels or elephants, and presented a spectacle which Bernier delighted to contemplate. In general the blinds or casements of these splendid little mansions of gold, scarlet, and azure, were closed, to preserve the charms of those within from “Phœbus’ amorous kisses,” or the profane gaze of the vulgar; but once, as the gorgeous cavalcade moved along, our traveller caught a glimpse of the interior of Ranchenara’s mikdembar, and beheld the princess reclined within, while a little female slave fanned away the dust and flies from her face with a bunch of peacock’s feathers. A train of fifty or sixty elephants similarly, though less splendidly, appointed, moving along with grave, solemn pace, surrounded by so vast a retinue as that which now accompanied the court, appeared in the eyes of our traveller to possess something truly royal in its aspect, and with the beauteous goddesses which the fancy placed within, seem, in spite of his affected philosophical indifference, to have delighted him in a very extraordinary manner. True philosophy, however, would have admired the show, while it condemned the extravagance, and despised the pride and effeminacy which produced it.

In this manner the court proceeded through Lahore and the plains of the Pundjâb towards Cashmere; but as their motions were slow, they were overtaken in those burning hollows which condensed and reflected back the rays of the sun like a vast burning-glass, by the heats of summer, which are there little less intense than on the shores of the Persian Gulf. No sooner had the sun appeared above the horizon than the heat became insupportable. Not a cloud stained the firmament; not a breath of air stood upon the earth. Every herb was scorched to cinders; and throughout the wide horizon nothing appeared but an interminable plain of dust below, and above a brazen or coppery sky, glowing like the mouth of a furnace. The horses, languid and worn out, could scarcely drag their limbs along; the very Hindoos themselves, who seem designed to revel in sunshine, began to droop, and our traveller, who had braved the climate of Egypt and the Arabian deserts, writing from the camp, on the tenth day of their march from Lahore, exclaims, “My whole face, hands, and feet are flayed, and my whole body is covered with small red pustules which prick like needles. Yesterday, one of our horsemen, who happened to have no tent, was found dead at the foot of a tree, which he had grasped in his last agonies. I doubt whether I shall be able to hold out till night. All my hopes rest upon a little curds which I steep in water, and on a little sugar, with four or five lemons. The very ink is dried up at the point of my pen, and the pen itself drops from my hand. Adieu.”

His frame, however, was much tougher than he imagined; and he continued to proceed with the rest, till having crossed the Chenâb, one of the five rivers, they ascended Mount Bember, and found themselves in Cashmere, the Tempé of Hindostan. The traditions of the Hindoos respecting the formation of this beautiful valley greatly resemble those which prevailed among the Greeks about that of Thessaly, both being said to have been originally a lake enclosed by lofty mountains, which having, been rent by the agency of earthquakes, or bored by human industry, suffered the waters to escape. Whatever was its origin, the Indian Tempé, though vaunted by less renowned poets, is no way inferior in fertility or beauty to the Thessalian. Fields clothed with eternal green, and sprinkled thick with violets, roses, narcissuses, and other delicate or fragrant flowers, which here grow wild, meet the eye on all sides; while, to divide or diversify them, a number of small streams of crystal purity, and several lakes of various dimensions, glide or sparkle in the foreground of the landscape. On all sides round arise a range of low green hills, dotted with trees, and affording a delicious herbage to the gazelle and other graminivorous animals; while the pinnacles of the Himalaya, pointed, jagged, and broken into a thousand fantastic forms, rear their snowy heads behind, and pierce beyond the clouds. From these unscaleable heights, amid which the imagination of the Hindoo has placed his heaven, ever bright and luminous, innumerable small rivulets descend to the valley; and after rushing in slender cataracts over projecting rocks, and peopling the upland with noise and foam, submit to the direction of the husbandman, and spread themselves in artificial inundations over the fields and gardens below. These numerous mountain-torrents, which unite into one stream before they issue from the valley, may be regarded as the sources of the Jylum or Hydaspes, one of the mightiest rivers of Hindostan.

The beauty and fertility of Cashmere are equalled by the mildness and salubrity of the climate. Here the southern slopes of the hills are clothed with the fruits and flowers of Hindostan; but pass the summit, and you find upon the opposite side the productions of the temperate zone, and the features of a European landscape. The fancy of Bernier, escaping from the curb of his philosophy, ran riot among these hills, which, with their cows, their goats, their gazelles, and their innumerable bees, might, like the promised land, be said to flow with milk and honey.

The inhabitants of this terrestrial paradise, who were as beautiful as their climate, possessed the reputation of being superior in genius and industry to the rest of the Hindoos. The arts and sciences flourished among them; and their manufactures of palanquins, bedsteads, coffers, cabinets, spoons, and inlaid work, were renowned throughout the East. But the fabric which tended most powerfully to diffuse their reputation for ingenuity were their shawls, those soft and exquisite articles of dress which, from that day to this, have enjoyed the patronage of the fair throughout the world. In the days of Bernier these shawls were comparatively little known in Europe; yet his account of them, though highly accurate as far as it goes, is brief and rather unsatisfactory.

During the three or four months which he spent in this beautiful country he made several excursions to the surrounding mountains, where, amid the wildest and most majestic scenery, he beheld with wonder, he tells us, the natural succession of generation and decay. At the bottom of many precipitous abysses, where man’s foot had never descended, he saw hundreds of enormous trunks, hurled down by time, and heaped upon each other in decay; while at their foot, or between their crumbling branches, young ones were shooting up and flourishing. Some of the trees were scorched and burnt, either blasted by the thunderbolt, or, according to the traditions of the peasantry, set on fire in the heat of summer by rubbing against each other, when agitated by fierce burning winds.

The court, having visited Cashmere from motives of pleasure, were determined to taste every species of it which the country could supply; the wild and sublime, which must be sought with toil and difficulty, as well as those more ordinary ones which lay strewed like flowers upon the earth. The emperor accordingly, or at least his harem, ascended the lower range of hills, to enjoy the prospect of abyss and precipice, impending woods, dusky and horrible, and streams rushing forth from their dark wombs, and leaping with thundering and impetuous fury over cliffs of prodigious elevation. One of these small cataracts appeared to Bernier the most perfect thing of the kind in the world; and Jehangheer, who passed many years in Cashmere, had caused a neighbouring rock, from which it could be contemplated to most advantage, to be levelled, in order to behold it at his ease. Here a kind of theatre was raised by Aurungzebe, for the accommodation of his court; and there they sat, viewing with wondering delight this sublime work of Nature, surpassing in grandeur, and by the emotions to which it gave birth, all the wonders of man’s hand. In this instance the stream was beheld at a considerable distance rolling along its weight of waters down the slope of the mountain, through a sombre channel overhung with trees. Arriving at the edge of a rock, the whole stream projected itself forward, and curving round, like the neck of a war-horse, in its descent plunged into the gulf below with deafening and incessant thunder.

An accident which occurred during these imperial excursions threw a damp over their merriment. In ascending the Peer Punjal, the loftiest mountain of the southern chain, from whose summit the eye commands an extensive prospect of Cashmere, one of the foremost elephants was seized with terror, occasioned, according to the Hindoos, by the length and steepness of the acclivity. This beast was one of those upon which the ladies of the harem were mounted; and fifteen others, employed in the same service, followed. The moment his courage failed him he began to reel backwards; and striking against the animal which immediately succeeded, forced him also to retreat. Thus the shock, communicated from the first to the second, and from the second to the third, in an instant threw back the whole fifteen; and being upon the giddy edge of a precipice, no exertion of their drivers or of the bystanders could check their fall; and down they rolled over the rocks into the abyss, with the ladies upon their backs. This accident threw the whole army into consternation. A general halt took place. The most adventurous immediately crept down the cliffs, and were followed by the rest, to aid such as should have escaped with life, and remove the bodies of the dead. Here, to their great astonishment, they found that, by the mercy of Providence, only three or four of the ladies had been killed; but the elephants, which, when they sink under their prodigious burdens even on a smooth road, never rise again, had all been mortally wounded by the fall, and could by no means be lifted from the spot. Even two days afterward, however, when Bernier again visited the place, he observed some of the poor animals moving their trunks.

On returning to Delhi from Cashmere, our traveller appears to have remained quiet for some time, pursuing his researches amid the mazes of the atomical philosophy; for he was a disciple of Democritus, and enjoying those “noctes cœnæque deorum” which seem to have constituted one of the principal pleasures of his friend Danekmend Khan. His influence with this chief he exerted for the benefit of others no less than for his own. Numerous were the individuals who owed to his interference or recommendation their admission into the service of the khan, or the speedy termination of their affairs at court, where Danekmend, who possessed the especial favour of the emperor, could almost always procure an audience, or give success to a petition. These kind offices were uniformly repaid with abundant flattery, if not with gratitude; and the skilful practitioners invariably discharged a portion of the debt beforehand. Putting on a grave face—a possession of infinite value in the East—every person who had need of his services assured him at the outset of the affair that he was the Aristotalis, the Bocrate, and the Abousina Ulzaman (that is, the Aristotle, the Hippocrates, and the Avicenna) of the age. It was in vain that he disavowed all claim to such immediate honours; they persisted in their assertions; argued down his modesty; and eternally renewing the charge, compelled him to acquiesce, and consent to allow all the glorious attributes of those illustrious men to be centred in his own person. A Brahmin whom he recommended to the khan outdid them all; for, upon his first introduction to his master, after having compared him to the greatest kings and conquerors that ever reigned, he concluded by gravely observing, “My lord, whenever you put your foot in the stirrup, and ride abroad accompanied by your cavalry, the earth trembles beneath your feet, the eight elephants which support it not being able to endure so great an exertion!” Upon this, Bernier, who could no longer restrain his disposition to laugh, remarked to the khan, that since this was the case, it was advisable that he should ride as seldom as possible on horseback, in order to prevent those earthquakes, which might, perhaps, occasion much mischief. “You are perfectly right,” replied Danekmend, with a smile, “and it is for that very reason that I generally go abroad in a palanquin!”

In the year 1666, while Bernier was still at Delhi, there happened an eclipse of the sun, which was attended by so many curious circumstances that, should he have lived for ages, he declares it never could have been obliterated from his memory. A little before the obscuration commenced, he ascended to the roof of his house, which, standing on the margin of the Jumna, commanded a full view of the stream, and of the surrounding plain. Both sides of the river for nearly a league were covered with Hindoos of both sexes, standing up to the waist in the water, anxiously awaiting for the commencement of the phenomenon, in order to plunge into the river and bathe their bodies at the auspicious moment. The children, both male and female, were as naked as at the moment of their birth—the women wore a single covering of muslin—the men a slight girdle, or cummerbund, about the waist. The rajahs, nobles, and rich merchants, however, who, for the most part, had crossed the river with their families, had fixed up certain screens in the water, which enabled them to bathe unseen. Presently the dusky body of the moon began to obscure a portion of the burning disk of the superior planet, and in a moment a tremendous shout arose from the multitude, who then plunged several times into the stream, muttering during the intervals an abundance of prayers, raising their eyes and their hands towards the sun, sprinkling water in the air, bowing the head, and practising a thousand gesticulations. These ceremonies continued to the end of the eclipse, when, throwing pieces of money far into the stream, putting on new garments, some leaving the old ones, besides the gifts which in common with all others they bestowed, for the Brahmins, others retaining them, the whole multitude dispersed.

The Hindoos, however, were not singular in the superstitious feelings with which they regarded eclipses of the sun. Twelve years previous Bernier had witnessed the effects which one of these phenomena produced in his own country, where the madness exhibited itself in the guise of fear. Astrologers, possessing the confidence of the Fates, had predicted that the end of the world, that unfailing bugbear of the middle age, was now to take place, and the terrified rabble of all ranks, conscious of guilt, or oppressed by gloomy fanaticism, immediately crept, like rats, into their cellars, or dark closets, as if God could not have beheld them there; or else rushed headlong to the churches, with a piety begotten by apprehension. Others, who only anticipated some malignant and perilous influence, swallowed drugs, which were vaunted by their inventors as sovereign remedies against the eclipse disease! Thus it appears that the superstition of the Hindoos was the less despicable of the two.

During his long residence in India our traveller twice visited Bengal. Of his first journey into that province the date is unknown, but his second visit took place in 1667, the year in which he finally quitted the country. He seems, on this occasion, to have approached the place by sea, for we first find him coasting along the Sunderbund in a small native bark, with seven rowers, in which he ascended by one of the western branches of the Ganges to the town of Hoogly. The beauty of this immense delta, divided into innumerable islands by the various arms of the stream, and covered by a vegetation luxuriant even to rankness, delighted him exceedingly. Even then, however, many of these romantic isles had been deserted, owing principally to the dread of the pirates who infested the coast; and as in India the spots which cultivation abandons quickly become the abode of pestilential miasmata, which thenceforward forbid the residence of man, no one now ventured to disturb the tigers and their prey, which had taken possession of the soil. It was here that for the third time in his life he enjoyed the sight of that rare phenomenon, a lunar rainbow. He had caused his boat to be fastened to the branch of a tree, as far as possible from the shore, through dread of the tigers, and was himself keeping watch. The moon, then near its full, was shining serenely in the western sky, when, turning his eyes towards the opposite quarter, he beheld a pale, bright arch, spanning the earth, and looking like a phantom of the glorious bow which, impregnated with the rich light of the sun, gladdens the eye with its brilliant colours by day. Next night the phenomenon was repeated; and on the fourth evening another spectacle, now familiar to most readers by description, delighted our traveller and his boat’s crew. The woods on both sides of the stream seemed suddenly to be illuminated by a shower of fire, and glowed as if they had been clothed with leaves of moving flames. There was not a breath of wind stirring, and the heat was intense. This added to the effect of the scene; for as the countless little fires streamed hither and thither in columns, or separated, and fell like drops of rain, or rose thick like the sparks of a furnace, the two Portuguese pilots whom our traveller had taken on board, imagined they were so many demons. To add to the effect of this exhibition of fireflies, for, as the reader will have foreseen, it was they who were the actors, the swampy soil sent up a number of those earthly meteors which often glide over large morasses, some in the form of globes, which rose and fell slowly, like enormous rockets, while others assumed the shape of a tree of fire.

From Bengal our traveller proceeded along the Coromandel coast to Masulipatam, and having visited the kingdoms of Golconda and Bejapore, quitted Hindostan, after a residence of twelve years, and returned by way of Persia and Mesopotamia to Europe. The exact date of his arrival in France I have not been able to discover, but it must have been somewhere in the latter end of the year 1669, or in the beginning of 1670; for the first two volumes of his “History of the Revolutions of the Mogul Empire,” which would require some time to prepare them for the press, were published in the course of that year. The third and fourth volumes appeared in 1671, and so great was the reputation they acquired, that they obtained for our traveller the surname of “The Mogul.” These works, which have frequently been reprinted under the title of “The Travels of M. François Bernier, containing the Description of the Mogul Empire, of Hindostan, of the Kingdom of Cashmere, &c.,” were immediately translated into English, and appear to have been the means of introducing their author to the most distinguished individuals of his time. Among those most distinguished by his friendship were Ninon de l’Enclos, Madame de la Sabliere, St. Evremont, and Chapelle, whose _Eloge_ he composed. To many of these his speculative opinions, which were any thing but orthodox, may have rendered him agreeable; but to Ninon, his handsome person, easy manners, and fascinating conversation, which he knew how to enliven with a thousand interesting anecdotes, must have proved by far his greatest recommendation. By St. Evremont he was called “the handsome philosopher;” and in a letter to Ninon, this same writer observes, “Speaking of the mortification of the senses one day, to M. Bernier, he replied, ‘I will tell you a secret which I would not willingly reveal to Madame de la Sabliere or to Ninon, though it contains an important truth; it is this—the abstaining from pleasure is itself a crime.’ I was surprised,” adds St. Evremont, “by the novelty of the system.” Upon this M. Walkenaer shrewdly observes, that this system could have possessed but very little novelty for Mademoiselle de l’Enclos; and he might have added that the surprise of the writer of the letter must either have been affected, or else betrayed a very slight acquaintance with the history of philosophy. The other works of Bernier, which have been suffered to sink into much greater neglect than they perhaps deserve, are,—1. “An Abridgment of the Philosophy of Gassendi:” in which, according to Buhl, the acute and learned historian of Modern Philosophy, he not only exhibited the talents of an able and intelligent abbreviator, but, moreover, afforded numerous proofs of a capacity to philosophize for himself. On several important points he differed from his friend, with whom, previous to his travels, he had lived during many years on terms of the strictest intimacy, and who died shortly after his departure from France. 2. “A Memoir upon the Quietism of India,” which appeared in the “Histoire des Ouvrages des Savans,” for September, 1668. 3. “Extract of various Pieces sent as Presents to Madame de la Sabliere.” 4. “Eloge of Chapelle.” 5. “Decree of the Grand Council of Parnassus for the Support of the Philosophy of Aristotle.” 6. “Illustration of the Work of Father Valois, on the Philosophy of Descartes,” published by Boyle. 7. “A Treatise on Free Will.”

The travels of Bernier, which enjoy a vast reputation among the learned, have never, perhaps, been popular, and can never become so, unless the various letters and treatises of which the work is composed be properly arranged, and the whole illustrated with copious notes. As an acute observer of manners, however, he has seldom been surpassed. His history of the revolutions of the Mogul empire entitles him to a high rank among the historians of India; and his description of Cashmere, though brief, is perhaps the best which has hitherto been given of that beautiful country. In his private character he appears to have been generous, humane, and amiable, constant in his friendship, and capable, as may be inferred from the singular affection entertained for him by Gassendi and Danekmend Khan, of inspiring a lasting and powerful attachment. Still, his inclination for the dull, unimaginative, unspiritual philosophy of Epicurus bespeaks but little enthusiasm or poetical fervour of mind; and this feature in his intellectual character may account for the inferior degree of romance with which we contemplate his adventures.

SIR JOHN CHARDIN.

Born 1643.—Died 1713.

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 management 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, and 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, 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 permitted 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 the 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 ignorance 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 of 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, her 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, 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 instantaneously 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 with 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 a 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 in the dark, for it was now night, once more threw himself about his neck, and thrust the two packets of jewels into his bosom.