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.
