Journal of a Diplomate's Three Years' Residence in Persia

Front matter

JOURNAL OF A DLPLOMATE'S THREE YEARS' RESIDENCE IN PERSIA. JOURNAL OP A DIPIOHAWS THREE YEARS' RESIDENCE IN PERSIA. BY EDWARD B. EASTWICK, P.R.S, P.S.A, OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, LATE H.M.'S CHARGE D'AFFAIRES AT THE COURT OF TEHRAN; MEMBER OP THE ROYAL ASIATIC SOCIETY OP GREAT BRITAIN i OF THE ASIATIC SOCIETY Of PAHIS, AND OP THE ORIENTAL SOCIETY OP GERMANY J HONORARY MEMBER OF THE ETHNOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY OP FRANCE, MEMBER OF THE PHILOLOGICAL SOCIETY OF LONDON, AND FELLOW OF THE SOCIETY OF NORTHEHN ANTIQUARIES. VOL. I. LONDON : SMITH, ELDER AND CO., 65, CORNHILL. M.nccc.Lxiv. \_The Right of Translation is Reserved."] TO SULTAN MDRAD MIRZA, HISAMTJ'S SALTANAH, PRINCE-GOVERNOR OF KHURASAN, THE ILLUSTRIOUS SON OF THE ILLUSTRIOUS ABBAS MIRZA, CONQUEROR OF MESHED, MERV, AND HERAT, UNCLE OP THE REIGNING SHAH OF PERSIA, AND HIS ABLEST AND MOST DEVOTED SERVANT, THESE SKETCHES OF PERSIA ARE INSCRIBED IN TOKEN OF FAREWELL, AND AS A FEEBLE MARK OF ADMIRATION AND ESTEEM, BT HIS FAITHFUL AND ATTACHED FRIEND THE AUTHOR. London, February 20, 1864. a PAGE ix CONTENTS OF VOLUME I.

Chapter I

Popular Notions of Persia — From Pimlico to Paris — Musicos at Sea — L'Ambassade Anglaise — Paris to Marseilles — Delights of travelling with Invalids — A Railway Panic — Marseilles to Athens 1 CHAPTER U. Athens, and how it impressed me — Myth of Xerxes and his Invasion — Along the Winding Dardanelles — Constantinople — Therapia — Sultan Abdu'l Maj id — Rumours of Impending Massacres — Chit-chat — The Turkish Bath — First Lesson in Turkish 24

Chapter III

From Stamboul Eastward ho ! — French Steamers in the Black Sea — Siuope — Liaisons dangereuses — Trebisonde —Russian Steamers in the Black Sea — Batoum — Troubles of an Impresario — Poti — Griefs of Madame Jacquot — Habits of the Mingrelians Contents. VI PAGE 125

Chapter IV

Poti to Marand— The House of Prince Micadza— Mingrelian Princesses— Marand— Beauty of the Mingrelians —From Marand to Kutais by Teleka —Kutais to Simonette — Simonette to Suram— Suram to Burjan— The Conqueror of Schamyl 64

Chapter V

La Chasse at Burjan— Monastery of Timotismani— Burjan to Akhaltzik— The Bayard of the Army of the Caucasus- Abbas Tuman — A Polish Beauty — Monastery of Saphar — Return to Burjan — Burjan to Gargarieff— Cruelty of the Russians — Gori — Tiger Shooting in Caucasia — Gori to Teflis 91

Chapter VI

Teflis — Fete in Honour of the Shah's Birthday — Church of the Annunciation — Yermaloff's German Colony — Khajur — MM. Tengoborski, Krusenstern and Milhnutin and Prince Orbeliani — Hold of Russia on the Caucasus — Colonel B 's Account of the Taking of Gounieb — Mine Host and Hostess of the Hotel de Caucasie — Monastery of St. David— Dark Shadows — The Plague of Locusts — Fete of the Prise de Gounieb— Convalescence — The Theatre at Teflis— Teflis to Sadrugli— Sadrugli to Delijan— Delijan to Gokcha

Chapter VII

Elenooka to Fontanken— Mount Ararat— Erivan — Meeting a Friend— Nakshevan— The Persian Gates — Julfah —The Contents. VII Mihmandar— From the Aras to Marand— The Sultan in '^ Distress— Sufiyan— Tabriz— Bahram Mirza— The Sardar-i- Kull— Punishments of Persia— Mirza 'Abbas— The Russian Consulate— Tne Fainting Fever— Snake-Charmers— The Armenian Burial-ground — The Blue Mosque and other Sights of Tabriz 1 57 CHAPTER Vm. From Tabriz to Turkumanchai— The Treaty of 1828— Miyani — Poisonous Bugs — Jamalabad — Zanjanah — Sultaniyah — Kazvin — The Palace of Sulaimaniyah — Arrival at Tehran 195

CHAPTER LX.

The Tehran Mission — Kasr-i-Kajar— Gulhek 221 1/

CHAPTER X.

L'Emmenagement — Persian Servants — The Cuisine in Persia — Life in the Tehran Mission — First Visits — Rides about Tehran— "The Race-course— The Waterfall— Shah Abdu'l Azim — Rhages 246

CHAPTER XL

Gloomy Winter of 1860 — Fall of my Prime Minister — Tour in the District of Viramin — Preparations for a Journey to the Caspian Provinces — Riots at Tehran and Death of the Kalantar — Departure for Resht — Kand — Sulaimaniyah — Kurdan — Coal Mines near Hir Contents.

CHAPTER XII. PAGE

Departure from Kazvin — Ah Baba — Dangerous March from Ah Baba to Kharzan — Pachanau — Manjil — The White River — Kudbar and its Olive Forests — Rustamabad — Mount Darfek — Enter the Forests of Ghilan — Shrine of the Imamzadah Hashem — Jungle Village of Salawan — An Istikbal or Persian Reception Party — Eesht

PREFACE.

. It is only right to say that, in order to avoid per sonality, several names have been altered in this narrative, even although the anecdotes are harmless enough. In like manner, the initials T , &c, applied to Europeans, are taken at random, and are not the real initials. It must also be observed that Excellency is a title applied in the East to persons of all ranks, and is not restricted to the high personages for whom it is reserved in England. With regard to M. Ferrier's interesting work, although, as in duty bound, I have noted some things in which I differ from him, I feel pleasure in testi fying to his general accuracy as far as I have travelled over the same ground. The Author. DIPLOMATE'S THREE YEARS' RESIDENCE IN PERSIA.

Chapter I

Popular Notions of Persia— From Pimlico to Paris — Musicos at Sea — L'Ambassade Anglaise — Paris to Marseilles — Delights of travelling with Invalids — A Railway Panic — Marseilles to Athens. " Good-by, then," said C , " I wish you a safe arrival at Ispahan, and a speedy return to England." " Thanks," I replied, " but why talk of Ispahan ? I answer your wish with the Persian proverb, 'A wise enemy is better than a foolish friend.' Surely my journey of three thousand miles is enough, without sending me four hundred and fifty further to vol. i. Ispahan. Know that Tehran is the capital of Persia since 1786 — is it not so in the copy-books ? " " Tehran ! all right," said C , " don't believe six people ever heard of it. Never mind, you make it famous, and — good-by." As I walked away I met another acquaintance, who, on hearing I was going to Persia, asked if the Parsis were not worshippers of the sun.

A third friend consigned me to Baghdad, and a fourth envied my coming propinquity to Cashmeer, and supposed I should often run up there in summer. " Enough ! " I exclaimed to myself in the words of Picrochole's advisers; "il n'est ja besoin pour ceste heure. N'est-ce pas assez tracasse, de avoir transfrete la mer Hyrcane et chevaulche les deux Armenies ? " Those remarks of my friends, intelligent parties enough, struck me as a very good index of the indifference and ignorance about Persia which are so observable in England, and which, it is said, were the cause of an incurable indigestion to the last Persian ambassador, who went back and died of it — though, to be sure, he was old enough to have died any way. The same thing returned to my recol lection as I found myself in the train on my way ■to Tehran.

I felt positive disquietude in going to a place that no one seemed to know or care about. "Really, it is curious," thought I; "of ancient empires, not one was so splendid as the Persian ! Greece, Rome, and Palestine excepted, no ancient country fills so many pages in history as Persia — yet who knows and who cares aught about Persia as it really is ? A region thrice as large as la belle France, with ten millions of the wittiest, handsomest, most agreeable people in the world for its inhabitants, ought to be more in the market than this." Such were my ruminations as the Dover express hurried me along on my way to take up my duties as Secre tary of Legation at Tehran. " Secretary of Legation, that's very well, but at Tehran, ah ! that spoils it. Hand me the scales of judgment, that I may weigh the question — Persia or England ?

I begin to think I have been wrong in changing. Let me see, pleasure of visiting new countries, leisure for learning new languages, possible promotion, wider sphere of use fulness. Drop that into one scale; now for the 1—2 other. Comfort and cleanliness, general immunity from filth, fleas, flies, and fevers, civilized society, England, home and no musquito curtains wanted ! Hi ! stop the train— I will return. Well, it is too late now to talk of returning; let us see, as the Persians say, what the veil of the future will dis close." I had full time for my reverie. I had the com partment all to myself. The train was a long one ; there were several hundreds of gabbling Frenchmen in it — I smelt their cigarettes, I saw them occasionally grimacing to one another from the windows, but they could not come nigh me, whereat I was not sorry, Orpheonistes though they were.

I was not in a gregarious mood, and would have shunned Orpheus himself, and given him back Eurydice if I had had her, for the pleasure of being alone. For would not another hour rob my eyes of merrie England, of England that looked more beautiful than ever on that bright summer day ? It was the first of July, 1860, and Sunday. I am not a Sabbatarian, I showed it by travelling on Sunday as required; I hate the whole class of words with that termination— Sabbatarian, Arian, sectarian, barbarian, and the rest; but I do love an English Sabbath, the village church bells and the village belles, the peaceful country stroll and the pause in the thundering business torrent oi our great cities. To think of but here we are at Dover. A man with seven large portmanteaux, no servant, and a distant destination, must not indulge himself in reveries except on very special occasions, and even then must run through them as rapidly as possible.

I have cleared my luggage, I have asked several useless and unanswered questions, run against two or three robust officials, and made my way to the steamer. There is a blue sky and a fresh breeze — the deck is covered with groaning Orpheonistes. Thencheerful jabber has died away, they have hung their harps on their pillows — all is hushed, but sounds I will not here describe. We are now at Boulogne. The days of pass ports not being yet numbered, we produce ours. Owner of a red passport and bearer of despatches, I secure certain amenities, of which a short shrift and a speedy exit are the most remarkable. This time I am not in solitude. In the compartment there is a lady pretty and petite, which makes the dimensions of her prodigious jupons more remark able. There is also Monsieur son Mari, who smokes interminable cigarettes.

These are succeeded by an agronome who discourses to me of manures, and praises the Free Trade Convention and Sir Cobden. He descends at Amiens and is replaced by three evident Parisians, a gentleman and two ladies, whose talk is sprightly and reminds me of the characters in De Musset's Caprice, but here I am overtaken by a violent neuralgic pain which fixes my attention until I find myself au cinquieme at the Louvre. On Monday, the 2nd of July, I am, as a matter of civility, at Lord 's. I am going to Naples, to Athens, to Constantinople. I leave my card, and would be happy to take anything for Lord , if his lordship has aught to send ; something highly inconvenient, for example, that no haughty aristocrat could be induced on any terms to handle. That would exactly suit, and be a highly proper charge for a secretary going to Tehran, in partibus infidelium ; while, of course, a diplomate of the true tinge would evade the nuisance.

The last time I came to Paris Mr. had a dog in charge, a very grievous cur — a cur that snapped, howled, and, when possible, absconded. If there be a cur for transmission, my card will evoke a response. If not, I shall fare like Smith, who said to me suffusis genis, "I am aware that his lordship is accredited to the Emperor of the French, and not to the four thousand Englishmen, gens commie il faut, who visit Paris annually. I have heard that observation before, I have studied its hidden meaning, I do not assent to it. My belief is that an English ambassador should be generous, hospitable, affable, of good report. I have lived in Paris, I know what two hundred and seventy five thousand francs a year, with a palace to lodge in gratis, could effect. Enough, passons outre ! " There is something in these remarks of Smith, but still I think him in the wrong.

It is so difficult to draw the line in entertaining, when the metier is once accepted. Besides, there would be a daily succession of on-dits, canards, and histoires dc coq-d-Vdne, with the eternal asseveration that they came from Lord . There can be no such oracles now, since the numen is always invisible, and the afflatus wanting. At 8 p.m. I got into the Marseilles train, under circumstances which led me to renew a disquisi tion I have often had with myself as to the existence of "luck." Reason of course rejects the Daseyn of ruyji altogether ; but, practically, one is con tinually led to admit it ; nay, more, to anathematize it in good set terms. Given, a person singularly ill constituted for supporting extreme heat, and that deprivation of oxygen which is commonly called " stuffiness ; " one feels inclined to think it unfortunate that such an individual should have to travel from Paris to Marseilles on the very hottest night of the year, a night, in fact, of heat ultra-exceptional, in which the excess of heat of several exceptional nights in several exceptional years had been added on, just where in reason it ought to have been subtracted.

Suppose, next, this individual, for whom you are already disposed to create that not strictly logical term, " unfortunate," to be seeking an empty car riage, and his search to result in his being deposited in one with every seat occupied by human beings, and every hole and corner stuffed with the most uncom fortable specimens of what are rightly called traps ; traps, indeed, to catch, not that troublesome sunbeam launched on your profile by the rising or the setting sun, but your feet when you would extend them; traps to hit your head on your up-rising, and to try your temper on your sitting down. Under such a combination of circumstances, logic will be trampled on, and, justifiably or not, you I will, think, go as far as to call the sufferer, " doosid unlucky, 'pon my word." Please now to add two invalid ladies (one pretty, it must be admitted) to the cauldron, and two tall, bulky relatives devotedly attached to the inter esting poitrinaires, and so wrapped up in them as to be bent on sacrificing their own lives and those of the strangers around, rather than allow the most in finitesimal portion of open window to admit an atom of astonished air into the furnace.

I think we have now got to a combination of coincidences which would justify any man in exclaiming, with a total disregard of philosophical principles, " What infernal luck ! " The night passed on in furtive attempts on my part at lowering the window, rendered abortive by an appealing cough of Madame or a stern remonstrance of Monsieur. At midnight, to my inexpressible joy and relief, the train came to a dead stop for half an hour. Our engine had broken down, and it was necessary to telegraph for another. The conductor made no attempt to explain to the passengers what had happened, and the consequence was a panic and a universal frantic rush over a very uncomfortable hedge into a potato field. Luckily there was not sufficient light to disclose the embarrassment in which the owners of crinolines must have been plunged in their passage over the high bushes.

I am bound to say the invalides in my carriage showed remarkable agility in reaching terra firma, and scrambled through the hedge with astonishing alacrity, while I con ducted my retreat in a more orderly manner, having first, with a fiendish satisfaction, let down both windows. This respite, however, was soon at an end, for the night air drove my fugitives back, and, as a matter of course, up went the windows ; so that by the time we moved on, we had been for ten minutes at least again inhaling and respiring one another's breath. This state of things was somewhat aggravated by an accident which befel the bulkiest of my male tormentors, who chose to take a pinch of snuff while standing up to arrange something for the lady in whom he was interested. By some extraordinary maladroitness he upset his snuff-box — and that not a little one — over the head and dress of his soul's idol, who forthwith shook herself, and sent such volumes of the offending powder into every corner and cranny of the carriage that there was nothing but coughing, sternutation and emunctory movements for the next half hour.

At seven a.m. we reached Lyons, and one of my fellow passengers alighted. At Avignon the pretty invalid, her attendant doctor, and another lady cleared out, and the others at Rognac. I fell into conversation with one of this last trio, and found him a very agreeable and well-informed man. Oddly enough he had with him a volume of pamphlets on the Parsis and on Persia, which he had put together and which he presented to me, with his card. The name was Edouard de la Baume. He was going into the mountains to finish a work on Diplomats 's 12 the " Civilization of Christianity," of which he pro mised me a copy, and I take this opportunity of reminding him of his promise. On one point I differed with him, and still differ : he hoped to see all England Catholic, and believed it would be so. " Marseilles is considered by many," says Brad shaw, " as the finest city of France."

For my part I dissented in toto from this opinion, my nature being so constituted that I have no enjoy ment of the higher senses while that of smell is outraged. The Stygian mud of the harbour here would make it impossible to admire the greatest architectural beauties in the city, did they exist. Now what quality does the poet cite first when he would speak of beauty ? Is it not cleanliness, simplex munditiis, which I would render "simply neat?" Nay, the Latins summed up all the beauties of creation in the one wor&.mundus, " clean." Seriously speaking, there are deep senses in that worship of purity. The Magians adored the pure in their sun-worship, and we do not read that even in presence of the Highest, their offerings of pure gold and perfumes were rejected. I betook me to a spacious, well-furnished room in the Hotel de Luxembourg, where without air, and without attendance, I counted the weary hours.

The bell was tongueless, and like a meek slave replied nothing, even under the most violent treat ment. As for the dinner, it was so bad I could not eat it, so I went out and supped wretchedly at the Hotel des Trois Empereurs, who, if they fared no better than myself, were not to be envied the purple. Late as it was, I drove to the consul's. He was away, and the vice-consul was out, but an English girl, a relative, I suppose, furnished me with a direction I wanted. The number of the house was 34, and my fair informant was very particular in instructing me to say trente-quatre to the coachman. " Trente-quatre," I could not help exclaiming sotto voce, " was ever Secretary of Legation schooled after this fashion ? Well ! it shows my countrymen are rather deficient in French, or this girl would not think it necessary to translate the numerals."

On the 5th of July, I found myself on board the Vatican, a steamer of 280 tons, bound for Messina. I had passed the night in anathematizing Dijdomate's 14 a fiendish crew of invisible tormentors, who devoured me during the darkness, and left me only with the morning light, necduni satiata. After a pleasant walk on deck, I had just seated myself, when a shrill noise arose among a party of Italians, who had quarrelled about something. Turning to the person next me, I asked if he knew what was the matter. He looked round and said, " I think I have seen your face before." I asked him where. "At the India Office, where you introduced me to Sir C. Wood. My name is Doria." In fact, by a curious coinci dence, it was the very man whose appointment in Persia I was going to fill. Thus I enjoyed the advantage of several long talks with one au fait with « Persian matters and society, and also gained an excellent cicerone for my descent of half a day at Genoa.

Doria is a scion of the princely Genoese family of that name, and speaks Italian like a native. In 1841, he was appointed student attache, alias jeune de langue, at Constantinople. Four such appointments were to be made, and Doria, who was then a student at Cambridge, had one. Oxford sent the Hon. Percy Smythe, now Lord Strangford, to fill up another ; and Mr. Alison, from Malta, and Almeric Wood, from Winchester, whose early promise was cut short by death, were the other two. The Russians are much talked of as linguists, but few Russian missions could produce such linguists as Mr. Alison and Lord Strangford. Mr. Doria, too, is an extremely good linguist, so that the experi ment succeeded well. We reached Genoa at 10 a.m., and I had time to visit the palaces Spinola, Doria, and Brignole, the Cathedral and the Church of the Annunciation.

Returning at 5 p.m. we found the steamer crowded with people going to Livorno, which we reached at 4 a.m. on the 7th, and at six o'clock I and Doria went ashore and breakfasted on delicious red mullets at the Hotel du Nord. Here the rule is to show the worst rooms first, which is politic, for if these be disposed of, customers are easily found for the good ones. As soon as I had breakfasted, I walked to see the statue of Ferdinand the First, around the pedestal of which are the figures of four Moors admirably executed. At half-past eight I took the train to Pisa. The ticket-taker cheated me out of a small sum, but as the train was just starting there was no time for altercation. Doria, however, espoused my cause warmly and swore most classically in choice Italian. The sights at Pisa are not numerous, but are real lions, indeed.

The caning in the Battisterio exceeds description ; though I confess I was almost as much pleased with the echo, which repeats twenty-five times. I visited, of course, the cemetery and the Duomo, and went up the leaning tower, and then returned to Livorno. The wind was very boisterous, and a chattering Italian who sate opposite me was not a little discomfited by having his hat blown off his head and out of the window. I got off to the steamer at 5 p.m., having left Doria at Livorno. The vessel was now uncomfortably crowded, a " Vatican " as populous and almost as unclean as that described by About, in his famous pam phlet. At 6 a.m. on Sunday, the 8th, we came to anchor at Chita Vecchia. The water would be beautifully clear here but for filthy man. After searching in vain among my things for a suitable book, I went to the ship's library to see if, peradventure, one might be found Tliree Years' Residence in Persia. 17 ?■ there.

I could not, however, discover anything more moral than, for example, the Crimes Celebres of Dumas. The Italians played cards till night, when they betook themselves to the piano and sang songs from various operas ! Next morning, at half-past six, we had Ischia and Procida in sight. The beauty of the scenery here increases till Vesuvius is passed. I talked much with Captain C , of H.M.'s Regiment, an Irishman, one of the most powerful men I have ever seen. His height is just six feet, but his frame is like that of the Farnese Hercules, with prodigiously muscular limbs and neck. He can hold out 561b. in his hand with a straight arm, run ten miles an hour, and walk fifty miles a day without fatigue ! Talking of St. Helena and the sharks there, he said that when quartered in the island with his regiment, he one day saw a soldier fall into the water from a rather high rock, and perceived in a moment that the man could not swim.

Being a first-rate swimmer himself, he immediately jumped in and struck out towards the man. After taking a few strokes, he remembered that a very large shark had been constantly seen just about that particular place, VOL. I. and his horror was great when, a few moments afterwards, he distinctly saw, in the clear water, a monstrous ground-shark rising up from the depth. Though a brave man, he felt a cold electric shock through his whole frame at the prospect of a terrible death so near. Luckily, however, he swam on, making as much splashing as he could. The shark rose three times close to him, but, deterred by the noise he made in the water, did not attempt to seize him, and he succeeded in reaching the soldier and in bringing him to land, but too late, for life was extinct. At half-past eight on the morning of the 9th, we anchored in the Bay of Naples.

Two French men-of-war entered the bay with us, saluted by the forts — a greeting to which the gigantic three decker of the French admiral thundered forth a response. Shortly after our anchor had descended, a naval officer came from the man-of-war to ask for letters. He was a fine, handsome fellow, but could not speak nor understand one word of French. The captain of the Vatican asked me to explain to him that there were no letters, which I did. In return he volunteered to me a sad account of the English sailors at the station. He said they were a raw set, entirely ignorant of their duty, and not much disposed to learn it. The French ships, he said, were larger than ours, better manned, and, in the event of war, would certainly capture the English. In his opinion, France had become a greater naval power than England, and the sooner the fact was known the better.

This discourse grated harshly and painfully on my ears. I repeat it, because I think — though some steps have been taken in the right direction — much remains to be done to keep up an adequate supply of experienced sailors for our navy. My own con fidence in the English sailor is such, that I believe, under all disadvantages, he will win. But why weight him at all in the race for victory ? why send ships to sea manned almost entirely with landsmen ? I had agreed to go ashore with a Neapolitan gentleman returning from Russia, but as his pass did not come I had to land by myself. I drove first to the English Legation, and thence O o Diplomatss 20 to the S. Francesco di Paolo, the church of the Jesuits, the Jesuit monastery, and then to the Duomo, built by Charles the First of Arragon, in 1272.

Here, beneath the high altar is the confessional of San Gennaro, built by Cardinal Almiero Carafa, in 1497. The remains of St. Januarius are under the altar. The chapel they believe to have been built on a temple to Apollo, of which some fragments remain. I then passed hurriedly through the rooms of the Musee, and so to a hotel, took a warm bath, and returned to the steamer. We started at 3 p.m. with a fresh breeze, which drooped to a calm as soon as we got out of sight of land. Presently a large shoal of fish showed themselves near the vessel, jumping out of the water, and among them I descried the dorsal fin of a good sized shark. It has been said that there are no sharks in the Mediterranean. There was certainly no mistake about this shark, for I pointed it out to Captain C , the hero of the story about the soldier at St. Helena, recounted above, and he recognized the felon of the deep at once.

Legions of fleas at night, and the ceaseless chattering and patriotic odes of the Italians by day, rendered rest impossible. Garibaldi being in the spring-tide of his successes, the enthusiasm of his compatriots on board the Vatican flamed forth in a perpetual song of triumph, quite maddening to the placid temperament of the Anglais. I rejoiced to find myself, two hours before noon, at beautiful Messina, shining out from under its amphitheatre of hills, many of them terraced to the very summits. Here I was to change to the Borysthbie, the steamer which was to carry me to Constantinople. I shook hands with the acquaintances I had made on board the Vatican. One of them, an American said, — " Good-by, stranger, guess we shall meet again some day, Prime Minister and President." With aspirations somewhat less lofty, I descended into the boat, and found myself with a Queen's mes senger and G of the diplomatic service, a very clever fellow, and first-rate linguist.