Solace of Lovers. Trost der Liebenden. Helena Perena
Turkish soil, where he died soon after. Colombari left Persia, where his good name lived on. He later resided in Paris, where he died a few years ago. His mother was also a remarkable woman: although generously supported by her son, she was driven back to Persia by impatience and boredom. At the age of 70 she made her sixth and last journey to Tehran, where she finally succumbed to the hardships. She wrote a curious little book about her adventures, which I believe was printed in Klagenfurt.
Kotschy, the famous Austrian traveller to Africa, visited Persia during the reign of Mohammad Shah. His studies on the flora of Persia, his discovery of large numbers of new species, additions made to all botanical gardens, museums and herbariums and some excellent geographical works concerning the distribution of plants ensure him a lasting memory.
In the summer of 1848 Ida Pfeiffer née Reyer passed through Kurdistan and Azerbaijan (Tabriz) on her journey from Mosul to Yerevan. Her powers of observation are exceptional, her ethnographic descriptions exemplary, which is all the more admirable as she stayed in the country for only a short time and was almost completely ignorant of the language. Her ability to make correct judgements from human physiognomies is almost incredible; one only has to read the section about the present Naser al-Din Shah (Qajar) when he was the 17-year-old heir to the throne and the horoscope she assigned to him. There are some privileged individuals who see more in one glance than others do in years; Ida Pfeiffer is one of them. Her book “Frauenfahrt um die Welt” was published in three volumes in Vienna in 1850 and appeared in English as “A Woman’s Journey round the World” in 1851.
Earlier, in 1835, the natural scientist Dr. Johann Wilhelm Helfer from Prague visited the Persian Gulf on his journey to India. The notable findings of this unusually talented and enthusiastic man were printed in Leipzig thanks to his wife, who accompanied him on his travels and in her second marriage bears the name Pauline Countess Nostitz. In addition to much instructive content, one finds in the work a noble naivety that is not unlike “The Vicar of Wakefield”.
Dr. Barb, now director of the Oriental Academy, travelled to Persia in 1846 and 1847 and became familiar with the language, country and people. He has enriched the literature with several scholarly works and still makes use of his extensive studies to the profit of that excellently managed institution.
Colombari’s presence in Persia and his acquaintance with the Armenian dignitary Dawud Khan drew the attention of Mirza Taghi Khan (Amir Kabir), a man of rare talent and Grand Vizier of the now reigning Naser al-Din Shah, to the possible recruitment of Austrians as teachers for the newly founded military academy in Tehran. Thinking that English or Russian teachers would be impossible in the event of unforeseen political complications, which could easily disrupt the lessons, the Grand Vizier decided to turn to a more neutral power for the purpose. This was Austria, because the reputation of the illustrious old dynastic house and the name of Austria had spread to the farthest reaches of Asia as a result of the Turkish wars.
In 1851, Dawud Khan came to Vienna with letters of authorisation and engaged six teachers for the new college, four from the military and two from civilian life, namely the captains Gumoens and Zatti, the first lieutenants Krziz and Nemiró, the mineralogist Czarnotta and myself for the medical classes. The contacts were established by Dr. Barb, who at the time was acting as court and ministerial principal.
It was natural that, unfamiliar as we were with Dawud Khan, his promises and contacts were received with some suspicion; but to his credit it must be said that he never knowingly deceived us in any way, and in fact he promised far less than was actually provided. I take pleasure in making this public testimony for the deceased, all the more so since the Khan was doubtless known to many readers.
To our – as I said – unjustified mistrust came another unsatisfactory state of affairs. The ministry at that time under Prince Felix zu Schwarzenberg was not particularly well disposed towards the recruitment; it was feared that imperial officers in Persia could be subjected to unworthy treatment without having any direct means of obtaining satisfaction. But a solution was found: the Imperial officers were to lose their status on crossing the national border, only to regain it when returning to the fatherland. This circumstance, as we shall soon see, had a paralysing effect on the mission.
In the late summer of 1851, we left Vienna and soon reached Constantinople. In that city I visited Professor Riegler and his clinic in Galata Serai. I mention this circumstance because it was two Austrians, Professor Riegler and Dr. Bernard, who organised scientific medical teaching in Turkey and still enjoy a good reputation there. Honour to their memory! How committed Riegler was to his profession may be illustrated by the following oral communication. He showed me the manuscript of his later work on Turkey and assured me that he had been carrying the essays around with him for five years for fear of a fire, while leaving all his other possessions in the house without worrying.
In Trebizond we found the last piece of our Austrian home in the house of the worthy Consul Ceschini; he accompanied us on the first stage of a caravan route and then drank a few bottles of champagne with us to the success of our mission. From then on we were on our own. None of us spoke a word of the vernacular languages, Turkish or Persian. We were joined by a German adventurer, whom we initially found very useful because of his knowledge of the country, but in the Armenian villages he surrendered himself so entirely to drink that we could only continue the journey with him tied to his horse, and we finally had to leave him behind as a superfluous burden. Such individuals, especially Germans and Slavs, are frequently to be encountered in the Orient; although they have a trade and do occasional work, they suffer an ignominious fate due to drunkenness, finishing up derelict in a hospital or on the bare soil of a foreign land!
In addition to the hardships of the journey, First Lieutenant Krziz and I fell seriously ill with malaria and had to endure the rigours of the ride in the most wretched condition. I still remember that, exhausted from the chills, I signalled to the guide some stops before Tehran to let me lie on the ground for a while. After a short period of unconsciousness, I mounted the horse again. When I arrived at the next station, I found that all my money, namely 25 napoleons, was missing. My colleagues tried to persuade me to return to the nearby place, but I reasoned: either I will not reach Tehran alive, in which case I do not need any money, or I will, and then I shall have to earn some.
On 21st November 1851 we arrived in Tehran. The proximity of the capital is not announced by an increase in the volume of traffic as it is elsewhere; in short, we would hardly have believed we had entered the capital had it not been for a stake near the gate with the remains of a condemned man indicating the presence of the courthouse.
We were very much surprised that no Mehmandar, i.e. official escort, was sent to meet us on Persian soil in accordance with the customs of the country and as we had been promised, that no man of rank – not even the official executioners in their red livery – was assigned to welcome us when we arrived, and that we were led to a draughty apartment without further ado and above all without any household effects.
But the mystery was soon resolved. The Grand Vizier, who had arranged for us to come from Austria and who had placed so much hope in our teaching, was no longer at the helm; he had been interned at Fin Garden near the city of Kashan and later killed by opening his veins à la Seneca. Among the Qajar rulers it is the custom – or trade practice in commercial language – to have the first grand vizier executed. This is what Fath Ali Shah did with Ibrahim Khan, Mohammad Shah with the Qa’em-Maqam (Mirza Abu’l-Qasem) and Naser al-Din Shah with the Amir (Kabir), so that a form of life insurance is granted to their successors, and it is perhaps regrettable that no European insurance company has as yet capitalised on this opportunity for life. Eight years later, I visited Fin Castle and saw where the plaster had been scraped away to eliminate the traces of blood on the ceiling.
A few days before his death, conscious of his tragic end, the Amir summoned the Dawud Khan and said to him: “I sent for the poor Nemses (Germans); I fear that they will fare badly. Do all you can to improve their lot.” This was the reason why our arrival was ignored; the Amir was now powerless, and the new Grand Vizier Mirza Aqa Khan (Nuri) was thinking of sending us home as we were an embarrassment to him.
For other reasons, however, this did not happen. Although he had executed the Amir – in self-defence, he claimed –, Naser al-Din Shah did not want any of his