(This is not just so good a work as its full title-page may lead the
reader to expect. It runs thus "Fifteen Months' Pilgrimage through
untrodden tracts of Khuzistan and Persia, in a journey from India to
England, through parts of Turkish Arabia, Persia, Armenia, Russia, and
Germany." Now, there is attractive promise in the word "untrodden," and
it may be said to apply to the Asiatic tour of the author, or his first
volume, but is not appropriate to the second, which owes its main
interest to his interview with Skryznecki, the illustrious Pole. Neither
is the term pilgrimage characteristic of the journey, which has the
sketchiness and levity of a flying tour rather than the observant
gravity of a patient pilgrimage. Nevertheless, the work is altogether
full of vivacity and interest, and the author, Mr. J.H. Stocqueler, must
be as pleasant on his travels, as his book will be in our hands.
Crossing from Bombay, the author reached Muscat in eleven days. Here,
with his host, Reuben, he paid his respects to his highness the Imaum,
whose court is a curiosity.)
The Imaum's palace was close to the water's edge in front of the town,
and his highness received Reuben and myself in an arbour or veranda open
to the sea. At the entrance to the veranda stood several well dressed
Arabs armed with sword, spear, and dagger, and half a dozen dirty
looking Abyssinians clothed somewhat like the sepoys in our Indian army,
and equipped much after the same fashion. These latter, as I understood,
were paraded in honour of my visit; and indeed generally form the _garde
du corps_ on occasions of an Englishman's presentation at the _Court of
Muscat_. The Imaum rose on our entrance and accommodated us with chairs,
and after we had been served with some insipid sherbet, addressed
himself to me on the subject of my journey, its object and direction;
and then touched on the politics of Europe.
Our interview closed by his highness offering me the use of his horses,
his houses, and his ships of war, the cabins of which afforded excellent
accommodation, and which were generally occupied by English visiters.
The Imaum of Muscat is passionately fond of horses, and devotes
considerable time and attention to their breeding. Of some of the finest
horses in his stud, the Imaum makes presents to the governors of the
Indian presidencies, and deserving officers in his own service. Horses
likewise form an article of trade between Muscat and India, and yield,
as I have been told, a considerable profit.
(Intellect is not on the march at Bushire. It contains a small school
founded by the famous Joseph Wolff, and supported by the British
residents in Persia. Mr. Wolff projected much; but Mr. Stocqueler says:)
The school possessed, while I was at Bushire, no more than thirteen
pupils, who were struggling through the rudiments of the Persian and
Armenian languages, under the guidance of a sleepy old Armenian.
(At Koete, our author visited three brothers, "all dressed alike and so
much resembling each other in feature, and in the total loss of the left
eye, that it was difficult to discover my friend the supercargo, who had
accompanied us from Bombay."
Koete is about a mile long, and a quarter of a mile broad. The houses
are built of mud and stone, and flat roofed with the trunk of the date
tree. Around it is a wall, beyond which nothing is to be seen but a vast
sandy plain, extending more than sixty miles. Within the walls, it is
equally sterile, it literally yields _nothing_; here, "all _is_ barren,"
and the water is far from sweet, yet 4,000 souls live, though the sheikh
keeps up no standing army. Mr. S. sails thence into the _Shut-ul-Arab_,
[River of the Arabs,] the banks of which are more delightful than those
of the Thames at Richmond.