BAGHDAD--PRINCIPAL BUILDINGS--CLIMATE--ENTERTAINMENT AT THE ENGLISH
RESIDENT'S--HAREM OF THE PASCHA OF BAGHDAD--EXCURSION TO THE RUINS
OF CTESIPHON--THE PERSIAN PRINCE, IL-HANY-ALA-CULY-MIRZA--EXCURSION
TO THE RUINS OF BABYLON--DEPARTURR FROM BAGHDAD.
Baghdad, the capital of Assyria, was founded during the reign of the
Caliph Abu-Jasar-Almansor. A century later, in the reign of Haroun-
al-Raschid, the best and most enlightened of all the caliphs, the
town was at its highest pitch of prosperity; but at the end of
another century, it was destroyed by the Turks. In the sixteenth
century it was conquered by the Persians, and continued to be a
perpetual source of discord between them and the Turks, although it
at length became annexed to the Ottoman Empire. Nadir Schah again
endeavoured to wrest it from the Turks in the eighteenth century.
The present population, of about 60,000 souls, consists of about
three-fourths Turks, and the remainder of Jews, Persians, Armenians,
and Arabs. There are only fifty or sixty Europeans living there.
The town is partly situated on both sides of the Tigris, but chiefly
on the east. It is surrounded by fortified walls of brick, with
numerous towers at regular intervals; both walls and towers,
however, are weak, and even somewhat dangerous, and the cannons upon
them are not in good condition.
The first thing that it was necessary for me to provide myself with
here, was a large linen wrapper, called isar, a small fez, and a
kerchief, which, wound round the fez, forms a little turban; but I
did not make use of the thick, stiff mask, made of horse-hair, which
covers the face, and under which the wearer is nearly suffocated.
It is impossible to imagine a more inconvenient out-door dress for
our sex than the one worn here. The isar gathers the dust from the
ground, and it requires some dexterity to hold it together in such a
way as to envelop the whole body. I pitied the poor women greatly,
who were often obliged to carry a child, or some other load, or
perhaps even to wash linen in the river. They never came from this
work, except dripping with water. Even the smallest girls here are
clothed in this way whenever they go out.
In my Oriental dress I could walk about without any covering on my
face, perfectly uninterrupted. I first examined the town, but there
was not much to see, as there are no remains of the old Caliphate
buildings. The houses are of burnt bricks, and are only one story
high; the backs are all turned towards the streets, and it is but
rarely that a projecting part of the house is seen with narrow
latticed windows. Those houses only whose facades are towards the
Tigris make an exception to this rule; they have ordinary windows,
and are sometimes very handsome. I found the streets rather narrow,
and full of dirt and dust. The bridge of boats over the Tigris,
which is here 690 feet broad, is the most wretched that I ever saw.
The bazaars are very extensive. The old bazaar, a relic of the
former town, still shows traces of handsome columns and arabesques,
and Chan Osman is distinguished by its beautiful portal and lofty
arches. The principal passages are so broad, that there is room for
a horseman and two foot passengers, to go through side by side. The
merchants and artisans here, as in all eastern countries, live in
separate streets and passages. The better shops are to be found in
private houses, or in the chans at the bazaars. Miserable coffee-
stalls are everywhere numerous.
The palace of the pascha is an extensive building, but neither
tasteful nor costly; it is imposing only from a distance. There are
but few mosques, and those present nothing costly or artistic,
except the inlaid tiles.
To be able to overlook the whole of Baghdad, I mounted, with great
difficulty, the exterior of the dome of the Osman Chan, and was
truly astounded at the extent and beautiful position of the town.
It is impossible to form any idea of an Oriental town by passing
through the narrow and uniform streets, no matter how often, as
these are all alike, and, one with the other, resemble the passages
of a jail. But, from above, I looked down over the whole town, with
its innumerable houses, many of which are situated in pretty
gardens. I saw thousands and thousands of terraces spread at my
feet, and before all, the beautiful river, rolling on through dark
orchards and palm groves, to the town, which extends along its banks
for five miles.
All the buildings are, as already remarked, constructed of unburnt
bricks, of which the greater part are stated to have been brought
down the Euphrates, from the ruins of the neighbouring city of
Babylon. By a close examination, traces of the old architecture are
to be found on the fortifications; the bricks of which they are
built are about two feet in diameter, and resemble fine slabs of
stone.
The houses are prettier inside than out; they have clean plastered
courts, numerous windows, etc. The rooms are large and lofty, but
not nearly so magnificently furnished as those in Damascus. The
summer is so hot here, that people find it necessary to change their
rooms three times a-day. The early part of the morning is passed in
the ordinary rooms; towards 9 o'clock they retire, during the
remainder of the day, into the underground rooms, called sardab,
which, like cellars, are frequently situated fifteen or twenty feet
below the surface; at sunset they go up on to the terraces, where
they receive visits, gossip, drink tea, and remain until night.
This is the most pleasant time, as the evenings are cool and
enlivening. Many affirm the moonlight is clearer here than with us,
but I did not find this to be the case. People sleep on the
terraces under mosquito nets, which surround the whole bed. The
heat rises in the rooms, during the day, as high as 99 degrees; in
the sun, to 122 or 131 degrees Fah.; it seldom exceeds 88 degrees
25' in the sardabs. In winter, the evenings, nights, and mornings
are so cold, that fires are necessary in the rooms.
The climate of this place is considered very healthy, even by
Europeans. Nevertheless, there is a disease here of which the young
females are terribly afraid, and which not only attacks the natives,
but strangers, when they remain several months here. This is a
disgusting eruption, which is called the Aleppo Boil, or Date-mark.
This ulcer, which is at first no larger than a pin's head, gradually
increases to the size of a halfcrown piece, and leaves deep scars.
It generally breaks out on the face; there is scarcely one face
among a hundred, to be seen without these disfiguring marks. Those
who have only one have reason to consider themselves fortunate; I
saw many with two or three of them. Other parts of the body are
also not exempt. The ulcers generally appear with the ripening of
the dates, and do not go away until the next year, when the same
season returns again. This disease does not occur more than once in
a lifetime; it attacks children for the most part during their
infancy. No remedy is ever applied, as experience has shown that it
cannot be prevented; the Europeans have tried inoculation, but
without success.
This disease is met with in several districts on the Tigris; there
are no traces of it to be found at a distance from the river. It
would appear, therefore, to be, in some way, connected with the
evaporation from the stream, or the mud deposited on its banks; the
former seems less probable, as the crews of the English steamers,
which are always on the river, escape, while all the Europeans who
live on land fall victims to it. One of the latter had forty such
boils, and I was told that he suffered horribly. The French consul,
who expected to remain here for several years, would not bring his
wife with him, to expose her face to the danger of these
ineradicable marks. I had only been here some weeks, when I
discovered slight indications of a boil on my hand, which became
large, but did not penetrate very deep, and left no permanent scar.
I exulted greatly at escaping so easily, but my exultation did not
continue long; only six months afterwards, when I had returned to
Europe, this disease broke out with such violence that I was covered
with thirteen of those boils, and had to contend with them more than
eight months.
On the 24th of May I received an invitation from the English
resident, Major Rawlinson, to an entertainment in honour of the
queen's birthday. There were only Europeans present at dinner, but
in the evening, all denominations of the Christian world were
admitted--Armenians, Greeks, etc. This entertainment was given upon
the handsome terraces of the house. The floor was covered with soft
carpets; cushioned divans invited the fatigued to rest, and the
brilliant illumination of the terraces, courts, and gardens diffused
a light almost equal to that of day. Refreshments of the most
delicate kind made it difficult for Europeans to remember that they
were so far from their native country. Less deceptive were two
bands of music, one of which played European, the other native
pieces, for the amusement of the guests. Fire-works, with balloons
and Bengal lights, were followed by a sumptuous supper, which closed
the evening's entertainments. Among the women and girls present,
there were some remarkably beautiful, but all had most bewitching
eyes, which no young man could glance at with impunity. The art of
dyeing the eyelids and eyebrows principally contributes to this.
Every hair on the eyebrows which makes its appearance in an improper
place, is carefully plucked out, and those which are deficient have
their place most artistically supplied by the pencil. The most
beautiful arched form is thus obtained, and this, together with the
dyeing of the eyelids, increases uncommonly the brightness of the
eye. The desire for such artificial beauty extends itself even to
the commonest servant girls.
The fair sex were dressed in Turkish-Greek costume; they wore silk
trousers, gathered together round the ankles, and over these, long
upper garments, embroidered with gold, the arms of which were tight
as far as the elbow, and were then slit open, and hung down. The
bare part of the arm was covered by silk sleeves. Round their
waists were fastened stiff girdles of the breadth of the hand,
ornamented in front with large buttons, and at the sides with
smaller ones. The buttons were of gold, and worked in enamel.
Mounted pearls, precious stones, and gold coins, decorated the arms,
neck, and breast. The head was covered with a small, pretty turban,
wound round with gold chains, or gold lace; numerous thin tresses of
hair stole from underneath, falling down to the hips.
Unfortunately, many of them had the bad taste to dye their hair, by
which its brilliant black was changed into an ugly brown-red.
Beautiful as this group of women were in appearance, their society
was very uninteresting, for an unbroken silence was maintained by
these members of our garrulous sex, and not one of their pretty
faces expressed an emotion or sentiment. Mind and education, the
zests of life, were wanting. The native girls are taught nothing;
their education is completed when they are able to read in their
mother tongue (Armenian or Arabian), and then, with the exception of
some religious books, they have no other reading.
It was more lively at a visit which I made, some days later, to the
harem of the pasha; there was then so much chatting, laughing, and
joking, that it was almost too much for me. My visit had been
expected, and the women, fifteen in number, were sumptuously dressed
in the same way that I have already described; with the single
exception, that the upper garment (kaftan) was shorter, and made of
a more transparent material, and the turbans ornamented with ostrich
feathers.
I did not see any very handsome women here; they had only good eyes,
but neither noble nor expressive features.
The summer harem, in which I was received, was a pretty building, in
the most modern style of European architecture, with lofty, regular
windows. It stood in the middle of a small flower-garden, which was
surrounded by a large fruit-garden.
After I had been here rather more than an hour, a table was laid,
and chairs placed round it. The principal woman invited me to join
them, and leading the way, seated herself at the table, when,
without waiting till we were seated, she hastily picked out her
favourite morsels from the various dishes with her hands. I was
also compelled to help myself with my hands, as there was no knife
and fork in the whole house, and it was only towards the end of the
meal that a large gold teaspoon was brought for me.
The table was profusely covered with excellent meat-dishes, with
different pilaus, and a quantity of sweet-meats and fruits. I found
them all delicious, and one dish so much resembled our fritters,
that I almost thought it was meant for them.
After we had finished, those who had not room to sit down with us
took their seats together with some of the principal attendants:
after them came, in succession, the inferior slaves, among whom were
some very ugly negresses; these also seated themselves at the table,
and ate what remained.
After the conclusion of the meal, strong coffee was handed round in
small cups, and nargillies brought. The cups stood in little golden
bowls, ornamented with pearls and turquoises.
The pasha's women are distinguished from their attendants and slaves
only by their dress and jewellery; in demeanour I found no
difference. The attendants seated themselves without hesitation
upon the divans, joined, uninvited, in the conversation, smoked, and
drank coffee as we did. Servants and slaves are far better and more
considerately treated by the natives than by the Europeans. Only
the Turks hold slaves here.
Although such strict decorum is observed in all public places, there
is an utter disregard of it in the harems and baths. While a part
of the women were engaged in smoking and drinking coffee, I slipped
away, and went into some of the adjoining apartments, where I saw
enough, in a few minutes, to fill me with disgust and commiseration
for these poor creatures; from slothfulness and the want of
education, morality appeared to be so degraded as to profane the
very name of humanity.
I was not less grieved by a visit to a public female bath. There
were young children, girls, women, and mothers; some having their
hands, feet, nails, eyebrows, hair, etc., washed and coloured:
others were being bathed with water, or rubbed with fragrant oils
and pomades, while the children played about among them. While all
this was going on, the conversation that prevailed was far from
being remarkable for its decency. Poor children! how are they to
acquire a respect for modesty, when they are so early exposed to the
influence of such pernicious examples.
Among the other curiosities of Baghdad, I saw the funeral monument
of Queen Zobiede, the favourite wife of Haroun-al-Raschid. It is
interesting, because it differs very much from the ordinary
monuments of the Mahomedans. Instead of handsome cupolas and
minarets, it consists of a moderate sized tower, rising from an
octagon building; the tower has a considerable resemblance to those
of the Hindoo temples. In the interior stand three plainly built
tombs, in one of which the queen is buried; in the other two,
relations of the royal family. The whole is constructed of bricks,
and was formerly covered with handsome cement, coloured tiles, and
arabesques, of which traces still remain.
Mahomedans consider all such monuments sacred; they frequently come
from great distances to offer up their devotions before them. They
think it equally desirable to erect a burial-place near such a
monument, which they show with pride to their friends and relations.
Round this monument there were large spaces covered with tombs.
On the return from this monument, I went a little out of my way to
see that part of the town which had fallen into ruins, and been
desolated by the last plague. Herr Swoboda, an Hungarian, gave me a
dreadful picture of the state of the town at that time. He had shut
himself closely up with his family and a maid servant, and being
well furnished with provisions, received nothing from outside but
fresh water. He carefully plastered up the doors and windows, and
no one was allowed to go out upon the terraces, or, indeed, into the
air at all.
These precautions were the means of preserving his whole family in
health, while many died in the neighbouring houses. It was
impossible to bury all the dead, and the bodies were left to
decompose where they died. After the plague had ceased, the Arabs
of the desert made their appearance for the purpose of robbing and
plundering. They found an easy spoil, for they penetrated without
resistance into the empty houses, or without difficulty overpowered
the few enfeebled people who remained. Herr Swoboda, among the
rest, was obliged to make an agreement with the Arabs, and pay
tribute.
I was glad to leave this melancholy place, and directed my steps
towards some of the pleasant gardens, of which there are great
numbers in and round Baghdad. None of these gardens, however, are
artificial; they consist simply of a thick wood of fruit-trees, of
all species (dates, apple, apricot, peach, fig, mulberry, and other
trees), surrounded by a brick wall. There is, unfortunately,
neither order nor cleanliness observed, and there are neither grass
plots nor beds of flowers, and not a single good path; but there is
a considerable number of canals, as it is necessary to substitute
artificial watering for rain and dew.
I made two long excursions from Baghdad; one to the ruins of
Ctesiphon, the other to those of Babylon. The former are eighteen,
the latter sixty miles distant from Baghdad. On both occasions,
Major Rawlinson provided me with good Arabian horses, and a trusty
servant.
I was obliged to make the journey to Ctesiphon and back again in one
day, to avoid passing the night in the desert; and, indeed, had to
accomplish it between sunrise and sunset, as it is the custom in
Baghdad, as in all Turkish towns, to close the gates towards sunset,
and to give up the keys to the governor. The gates are again opened
at sunrise.
My considerate hostess would have persuaded me to take a quantity of
provisions with me; but my rule in travelling is to exclude every
kind of superfluity. Wherever I am certain to find people living, I
take no eatables with me, for I can content myself with whatever
they live upon; if I do not relish their food, it is a sign that I
have not any real hunger, and I then fast until it becomes so great
that any kind of dish is acceptable. I took nothing with me but my
leathern water flask, and even this was unnecessary, as we
frequently passed creeks of the Tigris, and sometimes the river
itself, although the greater part of the road lay through the
desert.
About half-way, we crossed the river Dhyalah in a large boat. On
the other side of the stream, several families, who live in huts on
the bank, subsist by renting the ferry. I was so fortunate as to
obtain here some bread and buttermilk, with which I refreshed
myself. The ruins of Ctesiphon may already be seen from this place,
although they are still nine miles distant. We reached them in
three hours and a half.
Ctesiphon formerly rose to be a very powerful city on the Tigris; it
succeeded Babylon and Seleucia; the Persian viceroys resided in the
summer at Ecbatania, in the winter at Ctesiphon. The present
remains consist only of detached fragments of the palace of the
Schah Chosroes. These are the colossal arched gate-porch, together
with the gate, a part of the principal front, and some side walls,
all of which are so strong that it is probable that travellers may
still continue to be gratified with a sight of them for centuries.
The arches of the Tauk-kosra gate is the highest of the kind that is
known; it measures ninety feet, and is therefore about fifteen feet
higher than the principal gate at Fattipore-Sikri, near Agra, which
is erroneously represented by many as being the highest. The wall
rises sixteen feet above the arch.
On the facade of the palace, small niches, arches, pillars, etc.,
are hewn out from the top to bottom; the whole appears to be covered
with fine cement, in which the most beautiful arabesques are still
to be seen. Opposite these ruins on the western shore of the
Tigris, lie a few remains of the walls of Seleucia, the capital of
Macedonia.
On both banks, extensive circles of low mounds are visible in every
direction; these all contain, at a slight depth, bricks and rubbish.
Not far from the ruins stands a plain mosque, which holds the tomb
of Selamam Pak. This man was a friend of Mahomet's, and is on that
account honoured as a saint. I was not allowed to enter the mosque,
and was obliged to content myself with looking in through the open
door. I saw only a tomb built of bricks, surrounded by a wooden
lattice, painted green.
I had already observed a number of tents along the banks of the
Tigris on first reaching the ruins; my curiosity induced me to visit
them, where I found everything the same as among the desert Arabs,
except that the people were not so savage and rough; I could have
passed both day and night among them without apprehension. This
might be from my having been accustomed to such scenes.
A much more agreeable visit was before me. While I was amusing
myself among the dirty Arabs, a Persian approached, who pointed to a
pretty tent which was pitched at a short distance from us, and said
a few words to me. My guide explained to me that a Persian prince
lived in this tent, and that he had politely invited me by this
messenger. I accepted the invitation with great pleasure, and was
received in a very friendly manner by the prince, who was named Il-
Hany-Ala-Culy-Mirza.
The prince was a handsome young man, and said that he understood
French; but we soon came to a stop with that, as his knowledge of it
did not extend beyond "Vous parlez Francais!" Luckily, one of his
people had a better acquaintance with English, and so we were able
to carry on some conversation.
The interpreter explained to me that the prince resided in Baghdad,
but on account of the oppressive heat, he had taken up his residence
here for some time. He was seated upon a low divan under an open
tent, and his companions reclined upon carpets. To my surprise, he
had sufficient politeness to offer me a seat by his side upon the
divan. Our conversation soon became very animated, and his
astonishment when I related to him my travels increased with every
word. While we were talking, a nargilly of most singular beauty was
placed before me; it was made of light-blue enamel on gold,
ornamented with pearls, turquoises, and precious stones. For
politeness' sake, I took a few puffs from it. Tea and coffee were
also served, and afterwards the prince invited me to dinner. A
white cloth was spread upon the ground, and flat cakes of bread,
instead of plates, laid upon it: an exception was made for me, as I
had a plate and knife and fork. The dinner consisted of a number of
dishes of meat, among which was a whole lamb with the head, which
did appear very inviting; besides these, several pilaus, and a large
roast fish. Between the eatables stood bowls of curds and whey, and
sherbet: in each bowl was a large spoon. The lamb was carved by a
servant with a knife and the hand; he distributed the parts among
the guests, placing a piece upon the cake of bread before each one.
They ate with their right hand. Most of them tore off small morsels
of meat or fish, dipped them in one of the pilaus, kneaded them into
a ball, and put them into their mouths. Some, however, ate the fat
dishes without pilau; after each mouthful they wiped off the fat,
which ran over their fingers, on the bread. They drank a great deal
while eating, all using the same spoons. At the conclusion of the
meal, the prince, in spite of the strict prohibition of wine,
ordered some to be brought (my presence serving as an excuse). He
then poured out a glass for me, and drank a couple himself--one to
my health and one to his own.
When I told him that I intended to go to Persia, and in particular
to Teheran, he offered to give me a letter to his mother, who was at
court, and under whose protection I could be introduced there. He
wrote immediately, using his knee for want of a table, pressed his
signet ring upon the letter, and gave it to me; but told me
laughingly not to say anything to his mother about his having drank
wine.
After meal time, I asked the prince whether he would allow me to pay
a visit to his wife,--I had already learned that one of his wives
was with him. My request was granted, and I was led immediately
into a building, near which had formerly been a small mosque.
I was here received in a cool arched apartment by a remarkably
handsome young creature. She was the most beautiful of all the
women I had ever yet seen in harems. Her figure, of middling
proportions, was most exquisitely symmetrical; her features were
noble and truly classical; and her large eyes had a melancholy
expression: the poor thing was alone here, and had no society but
an old female servant and a young gazelle. Her complexion, probably
not quite natural, was of dazzling whiteness, and a delicate red
tinted her cheeks. The eyebrows only, in my opinion, were very much
deformed by art. They were in the form of a dark-blue streak, an
inch wide, which extended in two connected curves from one temple to
the other, and gave the face a somewhat dark and very uncommon
appearance. The principal hairs were not dyed; her hands and arms,
however, were slightly tattooed. She explained to me that this
shocking operation was performed upon her when she was only a child,
a custom which is also practised by the Mahomedan women in Baghdad.
The dress of this beauty was like that of the women in the pasha's
harem, but instead of the small turban, she wore a white muslin
cloth lightly twisted round the head, which she could also draw over
her face as a veil.
Our conversation was not very lively, as the interpreter was not
allowed to follow me into this sanctum. We were therefore obliged
to content ourselves with making signs and looking at one another.
When I returned to the prince, I expressed to him my wonder at the
rare beauty of his young wife, and asked him what country was the
cradle of this true angel. He told me the north of Persia, and
assured me, at the same time, that his other wives, of whom he had
four in Baghdad and four in Teheran with his mother, very much
excelled this one in beauty.
When I would have taken my leave of the prince to return home, he
proposed to me that I should remain a little while longer and hear
some Persian music. Two minstrels presently appeared, one of whom
had a kind of mandolin with five strings; the other was a singer.
The musician preluded very well, played European as well as Persian
melodies, and handled his instrument with great facility; the singer
executed roulades, and, unfortunately, his voice was neither
cultivated nor pure; but he seldom gave false notes, and they both
kept good time. The Persian music and songs had considerable range
of notes and variations in the melody; I had not heard anything like
them for a long time.
I reached home safely before sunset, and did not feel very much
fatigued, either by the ride of thirty-six miles, the terrible heat,
or the wandering about on foot. Only two days afterwards, I set out
on my road to the ruins of the city of Babylon. The district in
which these ruins lie is called Isak-Arabia, and is the seat of the
ancient Babylonia and Chaldea.
I rode, the same evening, twenty miles, as far as the Chan Assad.
The palms and fruit-trees gradually decreased in number, the
cultivated ground grew less and less, and the desert spread itself
before me, deadening all pleasure and animation. Here and there
grew some low herbage scarcely sufficient for the frugal camel; even
this ceases a few miles before coming to Assad, and from thence to
Hilla the desert appeared uninterruptedly in its sad and uniform
nakedness.
We passed the place where the town of Borossippa formerly stood, and
where it is said that a pillar of Nourhwan's palace is yet to be
seen; but I could not discover it anywhere, although the whole
desert lay open before me and a bright sunset afforded abundance of
light. I therefore contented myself with the place, and did not, on
that account, remember with less enthusiasm the great Alexander,
here at the last scene of his actions, when he was warned not to
enter Babylon again. Instead of the pillar, I saw the ruins of one
large and several smaller canals. The large one formerly united the
Euphrates with the Tigris, and the whole served for irrigating the
land.
31st May. I had never seen such numerous herds of camels as I did
today; there might possibly have been more than 7,000 or 8,000. As
most of them were unloaded and carried only a few tents, or women
and children, it was probably the wandering of a tribe in search of
a more fruitful dwelling-place. Among this enormous number, I saw
only a few camels that were completely white. These are very highly
prized by the Arabians; indeed, almost honoured as superior beings.
When I first saw the immense herd of these long-legged animals
appearing in the distant horizon, they looked like groups of small
trees; and I felt agreeably surprised to meet with vegetation in
this endless wilderness. But the wood, like that in Shakspere's
Macbeth, shortly advanced towards us, and the stems changed into
legs and the crowns into bodies.
I also observed a species of bird today to which I was a complete
stranger. It resembled, in colour and size, the small green
papagien, called paroquets, except that its beak was rather less
crooked and thick. It lives, like the earth-mouse, in small holes
in the ground. I saw flocks of them at two of the most barren
places in the desert, where there was no trace of a blade of grass
to be discovered, far and wide.
Towards 10 o'clock in the morning, we halted for two hours only at
Chan Nasri, as I was resolved to reach Hilla today. The heat rose
above 134 degrees Fah.; but a hot wind, that continually accompanied
us, was still more unbearable, and drove whole clouds of hot sand
into the face. We frequently passed half-ruined canals during the
day.
The chans upon this road are among the best and the most secure that
I have ever met with. From the exterior, they resemble small
fortresses; a high gateway leads into a large court-yard, which is
surrounded on all sides by broad, handsome halls built with thick
brick walls. In the halls, there are niches arranged in rows; each
one being large enough to serve three or four persons as a resting-
place. Before the niches, but also under the halls, are the places
for the cattle. In the court-yard, a terrace is also built five
feet high for sleeping in the hot summer nights. There are likewise
a number of rings and posts for the cattle in the court, where they
can be in the open air during the night.
These chans are adapted for whole caravans, and will contain as many
as 500 travellers, together with animals and baggage; they are
erected by the government, but more frequently by wealthy people,
who hope by such means to procure a place in heaven. Ten or twelve
soldiers are appointed to each chan as a guard. The gates are
closed in the evening. Travellers do not pay anything for staying
at these places.
Some Arabian families generally live outside the chans, or even in
them, and they supply the place of host, and furnish travellers with
camel's milk, bread, coffee, and sometimes, also, with camel's or
goat's flesh. I found the camel's milk rather disagreeable, but the
flesh is so good that I thought it had been cow-beef, and was
greatly surprised when my guide told me that it was not.
When travellers are furnished with a pasha's firman (letter of
recommendation), they can procure one or more mounted soldiers (all
the soldiers at the chans have horses) to accompany them through
dangerous places, and at times of disturbances. I had such a
firman, and made use of it at night.
In the afternoon we approached the town of Hilla, which now occupies
a part of the space where Babylon formerly stood. Beautiful woods
of date-trees indicated from afar the inhabited country, but
intercepted our view of the town.
Four miles from Hilla we turned off the road to the right, and
shortly found ourselves between enormous mounds of fallen walls and
heaps of bricks. The Arabs call these ruins Mujellibe. The largest
of these mounds of bricks and rubbish is 2,110 feet in
circumference, and 141 feet in height.
Babylon, as is known, was one of the greatest cities of the world.
With respect to its founder there are various opinions. Some say
Ninus, others Belus, others Semiramis, etc. It is said that, at the
building of the city (about 2,000 years before the birth of Christ),
two million of workmen, and all the architects and artificers of the
then enormous Syrian empire, were employed. The city walls are
described as having been 150 feet high, and twenty feet thick. The
city was defended by 250 towers; it was closed by a hundred brazen
gates, and its circumference was sixty miles. It was separated into
two parts by the Euphrates. On each bank stood a beautiful palace,
and the two were united by an artistic bridge, and even a tunnel was
constructed by the Queen Semiramis. But the greatest curiosities
were the temples of Belus and the hanging gardens. The tower of the
temple was ornamented with three colossal figures, made of pure
gold, and representing gods. The hanging gardens (one of the seven
wonders of the world) are ascribed to Nebuchadnezar, who is said to
have built them at the wish of his wife Amytis.
Six hundred and thirty years before Christ, the Babylonian empire
was at the highest point of its magnificence. At this time it was
conquered by the Chaldeans. It was afterwards subject in succession
to the Persians, Osmans, Tartars, and others, until the year A.D.
1637, since which time it has remained under the Osman government.
The temple of Belus or Baal was destroyed by Xerxes, and Alexander
the Great would have restored it; but as it would have required
10,000 men for two months (others say two years) merely to remove
the rubbish, he did not attempt it.
One of the palaces is described as having been the residence of the
king, the other a castle. Unfortunately they are so fallen to
decay, that they afford no means of forming a satisfactory opinion
even to antiquarians. It is supposed, however, that the ruins
called Mujellibe are the remains of the castle. Another large heap
of ruins is situated about a mile distant, called El Kasir.
According to some, the temple of Baal stood here, according to
others the royal palace. Massive fragments of walls and columns are
still to be seen, and in a hollow a lion in dark grey granite, of
such a size that at some distance I took it for an elephant. It is
very much damaged, and, to judge from what remains, does not appear
to have been the work of a great artist.
The mortar is of extraordinary hardness; it is easier to break the
bricks themselves, than to separate them from it. The bricks of all
the ruins are partly yellow and partly red, a foot long, nearly as
broad, and half an inch thick.
In the ruins El Kasir stands a solitary tree, which belongs to a
species of firs which is quite unknown in this district. The Arabs
call it Athale, and consider it sacred. There are said to be
several of the same kind near Buschir--they are there called Goz or
Guz.
Many writers see something very extraordinary in this tree; indeed
they go so far as to consider it as a relic of the hanging gardens,
and affirm that it gives out sad melancholy tones when the wind
plays through its branches, etc. Everything, indeed, is possible
with God; but that this half-stunted tree which is scarcely eighteen
feet high, and whose wretched stem is at most only nine inches in
diameter, is full 3,000 years old, appears to me rather too
improbable!
The country round Babylon is said to have been formerly so
flourishing and fruitful, that it was called the Paradise of
Chaldea. This productiveness ceased with the existence of the
buildings.
As I had seen everything completely, I rode on as far as Hilla, on
the other side of the Euphrates. A most miserable bridge of forty-
six boats is here thrown across the river, which is four hundred and
thirty feet broad. Planks and trunks of trees are laid from one
boat to the other, which move up and down at every step; there is no
railing at the side, and the space is so narrow that two riders can
scarcely pass. The views along the river are very charming; I found
the vegetation here still rich, and several mosques and handsome
buildings give life to the blooming landscape.
In Hilla I was received by a rich Arab. As the sun was already very
near setting, I was shown to a beautiful terrace instead of a room.
A delicious pilau, roast lamb, and steamed vegetables were sent to
me for supper, with water and sour milk.
The terraces here were not surrounded by any walls, a circumstance
which was very agreeable to me, as it gave me an opportunity of
observing the mode of life and customs of my neighbours.
In the court-yards I saw the women engaged in making bread, and in
the same way as at Bandr-Abas. The men and children meanwhile
spread straw mats upon the terraces, and brought dishes with pilaus,
vegetables, or some other eatables. As soon as the bread was ready,
they began their meal. The women also seated themselves, and I
thought that the modern Arabs were sufficiently advanced in
civilization to give my sex their place at table. But to my regret
I saw the poor women, instead of helping themselves from the dishes,
take straw fans to keep off the flies from the heads of their
husbands. They may have had their meal afterwards in the house, for
I did not see them eat anything, either upon the terraces or in the
courts. They all slept upon the terraces. Both men and women
wrapped themselves in rugs, and neither the one nor the other took
off any of their clothing.
1st June. I had ordered for this morning two fresh horses and Arabs
as a guard, that I might proceed with some safety to the ruins of
Birs Nimroud. These ruins are situated six miles distant from
Hilla, in the desert or plain of Shinar, near the Euphrates, upon a
hill 265 feet high, built of bricks, and consist of the fragments of
a wall twenty-eight feet long, on one side thirty feet high, and on
the other thirty-five. The greater part of the bricks are covered
with inscriptions. Near this wall lie several large blackish blocks
which might be taken for lava, and it is only on closer examination
that they are found to be remains of walls. It is supposed that
such a change could only have been brought about by lightning.
People are not quite unanimous in their opinions with respect to
these ruins. Some affirm that they are the remains of the Tower of
Babel, others that they are those of the Temple of Baal.
There is an extensive view from the top of the hill over the desert,
the town of Hilla with its charming palm-gardens, and over
innumerable mounds of rubbish and brick-work. Near these ruins
stands an unimportant Mahomedan chapel, which is said to be on the
same spot where, according to the Old Testament, the three youths
were cast into the furnace for refusing to worship idols.
In the afternoon I was again in Hilla. I looked over the town,
which is said to contain 26,000 inhabitants, and found it built like
all Oriental towns. Before the Kerbela gates is to be seen the
little mosque Esshems, which contains the remains of the prophet
Joshua. It completely resembles the sepulchre of the Queen Zobiede
near Baghdad.
Towards evening the family of my obliging host, together with some
other women and children, paid me a visit. Their natural good sense
had deterred them from visiting me on the day of my arrival, when
they knew I was fatigued by the long ride. I would willingly have
excused their visit today also, for neither the rich nor poor Arabs
have much idea of cleanliness. They, moreover, would put the little
dirty children into my arms or on my lap, and I did not know how to
relieve myself of this pleasure. Many of them had Aleppo boils, and
others sore eyes and skin diseases. After the women and children
had left, my host came. He was, at least, clean in his dress, and
conducted himself with more politeness.
On the 2nd of July I left Hilla at sunrise, and went on, without
stopping, to the Khan Scandaria (sixteen miles), where I remained
some hours; and then went the same day as far as Bir-Zanus, sixteen
miles further. About an hour after midnight I again halted, and
took a soldier to accompany me. We had scarcely proceeded four or
five miles from the khan when we perceived a very suspicious noise.
We stopped, and the servant told me to be very quiet, so that our
presence might not be detected. The soldier dismounted, and crept
rather than walked in the sand to reconnoitre the dangerous spot.
My exhaustion was so great that, although alone in this dark night
on the terrible desert, I began to doze upon the horse, and did not
wake up till the soldier returned with a cry of joy, and told us
that we had not fallen in with a horde of robbers, but with a
sheikh, who, in company with his followers, were going to Baghdad.
We set spurs to our horses, hastened after the troop, and joined
them. The chief greeted me by passing his hand over his forehead
towards his breast; and, as a sign of his good will, offered me his
arms, a club with an iron head, covered with a number of spikes.
Only a sheikh is allowed to carry such a weapon.
I remained in the sheikh's company until sunrise, and then quickened
my horse's pace, and at about 8 o'clock was again seated in my
chamber at Baghdad, after having, in the short space of three days
and a half, ridden 132 miles and walked about a great deal. The
distance from Baghdad to Hilla is considered to be sixty miles, and
from Hilla to Birs Nimroud six.
I had now seen everything in and around Baghdad, and was desirous of
starting on my journey towards Ispahan. Just at this time the
Persian prince, Il-Hany-Ala-Culy-Mirza, sent me a letter, informing
me that he had received very bad news from his native country; the
governor of Ispahan had been murdered, and the whole province was in
a state of revolt. It was therefore impossible to enter Persia by
this route. I decided in this case to go as far as Mosul, and there
determine my further course according to circumstances.
Before concluding my account of Baghdad, I must state that at first
I was greatly afraid of scorpions, as I had heard that there were
great numbers there; but I never saw one, either in the sardabs or
on the terraces, and during my stay of four weeks only found one in
the court.