"Hajji Baba" stands by itself among the innumerable books
written of the East by Europeans. For these inimitable
concessions of a Persian rogue are intended to give a picture
of Oriental life as seen by Oriental and not by Western
eyes---to present the country and people of Persia from a
strictly Persian standpoint. This daring attempt to look at
the East from the inside, as it were, is acknowledged to be
successful; all Europeans familiar with Persia testify to the
truth, often very caustic truth, of James Morier's
portraiture. The author of "The Adventures of Hajji Baba of
Ispahan" was born about 1780, and spent most of his days as a
diplomatic representative of Great Britain in the East. He
first visited Persia in 1808-09, as private secretary to the
mission mentioned in the closing pages of "Hajji Baba." He
returned to Persia in 1811-12, and again in 1814, and wrote
two books about the country. But the thoroughness and candour
of his intimacy with the Persian character were not fully
revealed until the publication of "Hajji Baba" in 1824. So
popular was the work that Morier wrote an amusing sequel to it
entitled "Hajji Baba in England." He died on March 23, 1849.
_I.--The Turcomans_
My father, Kerbelai Hassan, was one of the most celebrated barbers of
Ispahan. I was the son of his second wife, and as I was born when my
father and mother were on a pilgrimage to the tomb of Hosein, in
Kerbelah, I was called Hajji, or the pilgrim, a name which has procured
for me a great deal of unmerited respect, because that honoured title is
seldom conferred on any but those who have made the great pilgrimage to
the tomb of the blessed Prophet of Mecca.
I was taught to read and write by a mollah, or priest, who kept a school
in a mosque near at hand; when not in school I attended the shop, and by
the time I was sixteen it would be difficult to say whether I was most
accomplished as a barber or a scholar. My father's shop, being situated
near the largest caravanserai in the city, was the common resort of the
foreign merchants; and one of them, Osman Aga, of Bagdad, took a great
fancy to me, and so excited me by describing the different cities he had
visited, that I soon felt a strong desire to travel. He was then in want
of someone to keep his accounts, and as I associated the two
qualifications of barber and scribe, he made me such advantageous offers
that I agreed to follow him.
His purpose was to journey to Meshed with the object of purchasing the
lambskins of Bokhara. Our caravan proceeded without impediment to
Tehran; but the dangerous part of the journey was yet to come, as a
tribe of Turcomans were known to infest the road.
We advanced by slow marches over a parched and dreary country, and our
conversation chiefly turned upon the Turcomans. Everyone vaunted his own
courage; my master above the rest, his teeth actually chattering with
apprehension, boasted of what he would do in case we were attacked. But
when we in reality perceived a body of Turcomans coming down upon us,
the scene instantly changed. Some ran away; others, and among them my
master, yielded to intense fear, and began to exclaim: "O Allah! O
Imams! O Mohammed the Prophet, we are gone! We are dying! We are dead!"
A shower of arrows, which the enemy discharged as they came in, achieved
their conquest, and we soon became their prey. The Turcomans having
completed their plunder, placed each of us behind a horseman, and we
passed through wild tracts of mountainous country to a large plain,
covered with the black tents and the flocks and herds of our enemies.
My master was set to tend camels in the hills; but when the Turcomans
discovered my abilities as a barber and a surgeon, I became a general
favourite, and gained the confidence of the chief of the tribe himself.
Finally, he determined to permit me to accompany him on a predatory
excursion into Persia--a permission which I hoped would lead to my
escaping. I was the more ready to do so, in that I secretly possessed
fifty ducats. These had been concealed by my master, Osman Aga, in his
turban at the outset of his journey. The turban had been taken from him
and carried to the women's quarters, whence I had recovered it. I had
some argument with myself as to whether I ought to restore the ducats to
him; but I persuaded myself that the money was now mine rather than his.
"Had it not been for me," I said, "the money was lost for ever; who,
therefore, has a better claim to it than myself?"
We carried off much property on the raid, but as our only prisoners were
a court poet, a carpet-spreader, and a penniless cadi, we had little to
hope for in the way of ransom. On our return journey we perceived a
large body of men, too compact for a caravan--plainly some great
personage and his escort. The Turcomans retired hastily, but I lagged
behind, seeing in this eventuality a means of escape. I was soon
overtaken and seized, plundered of my fifty ducats and everything else,
and dragged before the chief personage of the party--a son of the Shah,
on his way to become governor of Khorassan.
Kissing the ground before him, I related my story, and petitioned for
the return of my fifty ducats. The rogues who had taken the money were
brought before the prince, who ordered them to be bastinadoed until they
produced it. After a few blows they confessed, and gave up the ducats,
which were carried to the prince. He counted the money, put it under the
cushion on which he was reclining, and said loudly to me, "You are
dismissed."
"My money, where is it?" I exclaimed.
"Give him the shoe," said the prince to his master of the ceremonies,
who struck me over the mouth with the iron-shod heel of his slipper,
saying: "Go in peace, or you'll have your ears cut off."
"You might as well expect a mule to give up a mouthful of fresh grass,"
said an old muleteer to whom I told my misfortune, "as a prince to give
up money that has once been in his hands."
Reaching Meshed in a destitute state, I practised for a time the trade
of water-carrier, and then became an itinerant vendor of smoke. I was
not very scrupulous about giving my tobacco pure; and when one day the
_Mohtesib_, or inspector, came to me, disguised as an old woman, I gave
him one of my worst mixtures. Instantly he summoned half a dozen stout
fellows; my feet were noosed, and blow after blow was inflicted on them
until they were a misshapen mass of flesh and gore. All that I possessed
was taken from me, and I crawled home miserably on my hands and knees.
I felt I had entered Meshed in an unlucky hour, and determined to leave
it. Dressed as a dervish I joined a caravan for Tehran.
_II.--The Fate of the Lovely_
I at first resolved to follow the career of a dervish, tempted thereto
by the confidences of my companion, Dervish Sefer, who befriended me
after my unhappy encounter with the Mohtesib.
"With one-fiftieth of your accomplishments, and a common share of
effrontery," he told me, "you may command both the purses and the lives
of your hearers. By impudence I have been a prophet, by impudence I have
wrought miracles--by impudence, in short, I live a life of great ease."
But a chance came to me of stealing a horse, the owner of which
confessed he had himself stolen it; and by selling it I hoped to add to
the money I had obtained as a dervish, and thereby get into some
situation where I might gain my bread honestly. Unfortunately, when I
had reached Tehran, the real owner of the horse appeared. I was
compelled to refund to the dealer the money I had been paid for the
horse, and had some difficulty, when we went before the magistrate at
the bazaar, in proving that I was not a thief. I had heard that the
court poet, with whom I had formed a friendship during his captivity
among the Turcomans, had escaped and returned to Tehran. To him,
therefore, I repaired, and through his good offices I secured a post as
assistant to Mirza Ahmak, the king's chief physician.
Although the physician was willing to have my services, he was too
avaricious to pay me anything for them; and I would not have remained
long with him had I not fallen in love. In the heat of summer I made any
bed in the open air, in a corner of a terrace that overlooked an inner
court where the women's apartments were situated. I came presently to
exchanging glances with a beautiful Curdish slave. From glances we came
to conversation. At length, when Zeenab--for that was her name--was
alone in the women's apartments, she would invite me down from the
terrace, and we would spend long hours feasting and singing together.
But our felicity was destined to be interrupted. The Shah was about to
depart for his usual summer campaign, and, according to his wont, paid a
round of visits to noblemen, thereby reaping for himself a harvest of
presents. The physician, being reputed rich, was marked out as prey fit
for the royal grasp. The news of the honour to be paid him left him
half-elated at the distinction, half-trembling at the ruin that awaited
his finances. The Shah came with his full suite, dined gorgeously at my
master's expense, and, as is customary, visited the women's apartments.
Presently came the news that my master had presented the Shah with
Zeenab! She was to be trained as a dancing-girl, and was to dance before
the Shah on his return from the campaign.
When Zeenab was thus removed out of my reach, I had no inducement to
remain in the physician's service. I therefore sought and secured a post
as _nasakchi_, or officer of the chief executioner. I was now a person
of authority with the crowd, and used my stick so freely upon their
heads and backs that I soon acquired a reputation for courage. Nor did I
fail to note the advice given to me by my brother officers as to the
making of money by extortion--how an officer inflicts the bastinado
fiercely or gently according to the capacity of the sufferer to pay; how
bribes may be obtained from villages anxious not to have troops
quartered upon them, and so on. I lived in such an atmosphere of
violence and cruelty--I heard of nothing but slitting noses, putting out
eyes, and chopping men in two--that I am persuaded I could almost have
impaled my own father.
The chief executioner was a tall and bony man, extremely ferocious.
"Give me good hard fighting," he was accustomed to declare; "let me have
my thrust with the lance, and my cut with the sabre, and I want no more.
We all have our weaknesses--these are mine." This terrible man
accompanied the Shah in his campaign, and I and the others went along
with him, in the army that was to expel the Muscovite infidels from
Georgia. Having heard that the Muscovites were posted on the Pembaki
river, the chief executioner, with a large body of cavalry and infantry,
proceeded to advance upon them.
On reaching the river, we found two Muscovite soldiers on the opposite
bank. The chief put on a face of the greatest resolution. "Go, seize,
strike, kill!" he exclaimed. "Bring me their heads!"
Several men dashed into the river, but the Russians, firing steadily,
killed two of them, whereupon the rest retreated; nor could all the
chief's oaths, entreaties, and offers of money persuade anybody to go
forward.
While we were thus parleying, a shot hit the chief executioner's
stirrup, which awoke his fears to such a degree that he recalled his
troops, and himself rode hastily away, exclaiming, "Curses be on their
beards! Whoever fought after this fashion? Killing, killing, as if we
were so many hogs! They will not run away, do all you can to them. They
are worse than brutes! O Allah, Allah, if there was no dying in the
case, how the Persians would fight!"
On our return to the camp, a proclamation was issued announcing that an
army of 50,000 infidels had been vanquished by the all-victorious armies
of the Shah, that 10,000 of the dogs had given up their souls, and that
the prisoners were so many that the prices of slaves had diminished a
hundred per cent.
When we went back with the Shah to Tehran, a horrid event occurred which
plunged me in the greatest misery. I heard that Zeenab was ill, and
unable to dance before the Shah; and, knowing the royal methods of
treating unsatisfactory slaves, I feared greatly for the consequences.
My fears were warranted. I was ordered, with others, to wait below the
tower of the royal harem at midnight and bear away a corpse. We saw a
woman struggling with two men at the top of the tower. The woman was
flung over. We rushed forward. At my feet, in the death-agony, lay my
beloved Zeenab. I hung over her in the deepest despair; my feelings
could not be concealed from the ruffians around me.
I abandoned everything, and left Tehran next day determined to become a
real dervish, and spend the rest of my life in penitence and privations.
_III.--Among the Holy Men_
As I was preparing next night to sleep on the bare ground outside a
caravanserai--for I was almost destitute--I saw a horseman ride up whom
I recognised. It was one of the nasakchis who had assisted in the burial
of Zeenab. I had been betrayed, then; my love for the king's slave had
been revealed, and they were pursuing me.
I went into the caravanserai, sought out a friend--the dervish whom I
had known at Meshed--and asked his advice. "I can expect no mercy from
this man," I said, "particularly as I have not enough money to offer
him, for I know his price. Where shall I go?"
The dervish replied, "You must lose not a moment in getting within the
sanctuary of the tomb of Fatimeh at Kom. You can reach it before
morning, and then you will be safe even from the Shah's power."
"But how shall I live when I am there?" I asked.
"I shall soon overtake you, and then, Inshallah (please God), you will
not fare so ill as you imagine."
As the day broke, I could distinguish the gilt cupola of the tomb before
me; and as I perceived the horseman at some distance behind, I made all
possible speed until I had passed the gateway of the sanctuary. Kissing
the threshold of the tomb, I said my prayers with all the fervency of
one who has got safe from a tempest into port.
My friend the dervish arrived soon afterwards, and immediately urged
upon me the importance of saying my prayers, keeping fasts, and wearing
a long and mortified countenance. As he assured me that unless I made a
pretence of deep piety I should be starved or stoned to death, I assumed
forthwith the character of a rigid Mussulman. I rose at the first call,
made my ablutions at the cistern in the strictest forms, and then prayed
in the most conspicuous spot I could find.
By the intensity of my devotion I won the goodwill of Mirza Abdul
Cossim, the first _mashtehed_ (divine) of Persia, and by his influence I
obtained a pardon from the Shah. Now that I was free from the sanctuary,
I became anxious to gain some profit by my fame for piety; so I applied
to Mirza Abdul Cossim, who straightway sent me to assist the mollah
Nadân, one of the principal men of the law in Tehran. My true path of
advancement, I believed, was now open. I was on the way to become a
mollah.
Nadân was an exemplary Mussulman in all outward matters; but I was not
long in discovering that he had two ruling passions--jealousy of the
chief priest of Tehran, and a hunger for money. My earliest duty was to
gratify his second passion by negotiating temporary marriages for
handsome fees. In these transactions we prospered fairly well; but
unfortunately Nadân's desire to supplant the chief priest led him to
stir up the populace to attack the Christians of the city, and plunder
their property. The Shah was then in a humour to protect the Christians;
consequently, Nadân had his beard plucked out by the roots, was mounted
on an ass with his face to its tail, and was driven out of the city with
blows and execrations.
Once more homeless and almost penniless, not knowing what to do, I
strolled in the dusk into a bath, and undressed. The bath was empty save
for one man, whom I recognized as the chief priest. He was splashing
about in a manner that struck me as remarkable for so sedate a
character; then a most unusual floundering, attended with a gurgling of
the throat, struck my ear. To my horror, I saw that he was drowned. Here
was a predicament; it was inevitable that I should be charged with his
murder.
Suddenly it occurred to me that I bore a close resemblance to the dead
man. For an hour or two, at any rate, I might act as an impostor. So, in
the dim light, I dressed myself in the chief priest's clothes, and
repaired to his house.
I was there received by two young slaves, who paid me attentions that
would at most times have delighted me; but just then they filled me with
apprehension, and I was heartily glad when I got rid of the slaves and
fastened the door. I then explored the chief priest's pockets, and found
therein two letters. One was from the chief executioner--a notorious
drunkard--begging permission to take unlimited wine for his health's
sake. The other was from a priest at the mollah's village saying that he
had extracted from the peasantry one hundred tomauns (£80), which would
be delivered to a properly qualified messenger.
To the chief executioner I wrote cheerfully granting the permission he
sought, and suggesting that the loan of a well-caparisoned horse would
not be amiss. I wrote a note to the priest requesting that the money be
delivered to the bearer, our confidential Hajji Baba. Next morning I
rose early, and made certain alterations in the chief priest's clothes
so as to avoid detection. I went to the chief executioner's house,
presented the letter, and received the horse, upon which I rode hastily
away to the village. Having obtained the hundred tomauns I escaped
across the frontier to Bagdad.
_IV.--Hajji and the Infidels_
On reaching Bagdad, I sought the house of my old master, Osman Aga, long
since returned from his captivity, and through his assistance, and with
my hundred tomauns as capital, I was able to set up in business as a
merchant in pipe-sticks, and, having made myself as like as possible to
a native of Bagdad, I travelled in Osman Aga's company to
Constantinople. Having a complaint to make, I went to Mirza Ferouz,
Persian ambassador on a special mission to Constantinople.
"Your wit and manner are agreeable," he said to me; "you have seen the
world and its business; you are a man who can make play under another's
beard. Such I am in want of."
"I am your slave and your servant," I replied.
"Lately an ambassador came from Europe to Tehran," said Mirza Ferouz,
"saying he was sent, with power to make a treaty, by a certain
Boonapoort, calling himself Emperor of the French. He promised, that
Georgia should be reconquered for us from the Russians, and that the
English should be driven from India. Soon afterwards the English
infidels in India sent agents to impede the reception of the Frenchman.
We soon discovered that much was to be got between the rival curs of
uncleanness; and the true object of my mission here is to discover all
that is to be known of these French and English. In this you can help
me."
This proposal I gladly accepted, and went forth to interview a scribe of
the Reis Effendi with whom I had struck up a friendship. He told me that
Boonapoort was indeed a rare and daring infidel, who, from a mere
soldier, became the sultan of an immense nation, and gave the law to all
the Europeans.
"And is there not a tribe of infidels called Ingliz?" I asked.
"Yes, truly. They live in an island, are powerful in ships, and in
watches and broad-cloth are unrivalled. They have a shah, but it is a
farce to call him by that title. The power lies with certain houses full
of madmen, who meet half the year round for the purposes of quarrelling.
Nothing can be settled in the state, be it only whether a rebellious aga
is to have his head cut off and his property confiscated, or some such
trifle, until these people have wrangled. Let us bless Allah and our
Prophet that we are not born to eat the miseries of the poor English
infidels, but can smoke our pipes in quiet on the shores of our own
peaceful Bosphorus!"
I returned to my ambassador full of the information I had acquired;
daily he sent me in search of fresh particulars, and before long I felt
able to draw up the history of Europe that the Shah had ordered Mirza
Ferouz to provide. So well pleased was the ambassador with my labours,
that he announced his intention of taking me back to Persia and
continuing me in Government employ. To this I readily agreed, knowing
that, with the protection of men in office, I might show myself in my
own country with perfect safety.
On out return to Tehran we found an English ambassador negotiating a
treaty, the French having gone away unsuccessful. Owing to the knowledge
I had acquired of European affairs when at Constantinople, I was much
employed in these transactions with the infidels, and when I gained the
confidence of the grand vizier himself, destiny almost as much as
whispered that the buffetings of the world had taken their departure
from me.
The negotiations reached a difficult point, and threatened to break
down; neither the Persians nor the infidels would give way. I was sent
by the grand vizier on a delicate mission to the English ambassador. I
prevailed. I returned to the grand vizier with a sack of gold for him
and the promise of a diamond ring, and the treaty was signed.
It was decided to send an ambassador to England. Mirza Berouz was
appointed, and I was chosen as his first mirza, or secretary. What
pleased me most of all was that I was sent to Ispahan to raise part of
the money for the presents to be taken to England. Hajji Baba, the
barber's son, entered his native place as Mirza Hajji Baba, the Shah's
deputy, with all the parade of a man of consequence, and on a mission
that gave him unbounded opportunity of enriching himself. I found
myself, after all my misfortunes, at the summit of what, in my Persian
eyes, was perfect human bliss.
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