It is now January 1637, and the new year begins with a funeral for the Persian man who drank himself to death at the welcome party for our ambassadors in the town of Schamachie.

Olearius visits various schools and mosques on his walks in the city, and sometimes carries with him a small celestial globe which he has made himself. Teachers and students tell him that “astrology and the mathematicks” must be taught better in Germany than Persia, for they are “not acquainted with the invention of globes, and make use only of the astrolabe for instruction.”

He demonstrates certain uses of the astrolabe to an Arab astrologer named Khalil, who "desired me to show him how I could set down the degrees so exactly." Khalil is so much obliged that he lets no opportunity pass to assure Olearius of his friendship, “expressing it by frequent visits and by offering all the service that lay in his power.”

And we hear the story of the Gottorp Globe built in Holstein after Olearius returns to Germany, and discover how Japanese sailors reached St. Petersburg in 1803 and proceeded to circle the earth on their way home.

It is now December 1636, and our adventurers are making their way south along the coast of the Caspian Sea, in what is still one of the most dangerous places on earth.

We ended the last episode with a brief history of the major conquests of the region. As I write this episode, the most recent military conflict has ended in the old way: a prolonged siege with all the suffering that entails, followed by conquest, the expulsion of civilians, and celebration by the victors.

This particular chapter of the ancient story started with the fall of the Soviet Union, when Azerbaijan and Armenia both claimed the mountainous region of Nagorno-Karabach, some 150 miles from Nisavay where our ambassadors are currently located.

How many miles to Babylon? Threescore miles and ten.Can I get there by candle-light? Yes, and back again.If your heels are nimble and light,You may get there by candle-light. –  Songs for the Nursery (1805)

The date is November 15, 1636, and the wrecked Friedrich has deposited them in a very pleasant country, green and filled with birds who sing until the middle of December. The village of Nisavay has only 15 or 16 poor houses, built of clay and absolutely square, with turf roofs you can walk on. In summer, the Persians erect tents up there so they can enjoy the cool air.

The weather is good, and on December 1 “a little society” of gentlemen find a place near Nisavay “so pleasant and inviting, that the fairest meadows in Europe afford not anything so delightful in the best season of the year.” A stream circles the meadow. Pomegranate trees invite them to “rest ourselves under their shade, and divert ourselves with the memory of our dear country.” They all bring what food and drink they have, and enjoy a picnic that lasts several days.

They depart Nisavay on December 22, 1636.

It is now October 10, 1636, and the Friedrich is sailing down the shallow Volga delta, guided by a new pilot from Astrakhan and preceded by a boat of Tatars who are supposed to help them avoid the sandbars.

Incredibly big plants grow along the river, Olearius says. Esula, today listed among the world’s 100 most invasive species, grows as tall as a man, and Angelica as big as a man’s arm. Angelica has been cultivated in northern climates since the 10th century, and can be used to make candy and flavor various kinds of liquor including aquavit, gin, and absinthe.

They pass the best fishing grounds in the country and a place the Muscovites call “The Sacrifice of the Tatars.” It is a settlement on the island of Perul, where a long pole is kept with a sheep’s skull at the top of it. Whenever the inhabitants take a voyage, they sacrifice a sheep. The skull remains on the pole until the next voyage, or until it falls off on its own accord.

They also see great white pelicans, and Olearius says the “great bag of shriveled skin” under their beaks can hold nearly three gallons of liquor. The locals use them for fishing, tying strings around their legs and throats, and if we are to believe the tale of one Franciscus Sanctius, the bird eats children on the coasts of Africa. The Persians make musical instruments out of their skin.

The date is September 16, 1636. After an exhausting voyage down the Volga, our ambassadors are anchored off the Russian city of Astrakhan, and Paul Fleming is writing a 200-line poetic monument to his friend and fellow poet, Adam Olearius.

He relates how he and Olearius are wont to go down to the edge of the Caspian to contemplate the tempestuous sea, describing its fury and the events that culminated in the Baltic shipwreck described in Episode 4. And he exclaims that he wishes all his unhappiness had been destroyed and sunk to the bottom of the sea in the storm.

Olearius measures the city at 8,000 feet in circumference, and the side towards the river at 2,216 feet across. He says the city “affords a pleasant prospect, by reason of the great number of turrets and steeples of stone, which look very delightful at a distance.” The houses are made of wood and not well built, and thus the city is not so beautiful when viewed up close.

Welcome to The Voyages and Travels of the Ambassadors, the epic story of a 17th century trade expedition from Germany to Persia that failed so completely its leader was publicly executed upon his return. This is Episode 6: The Cossacks.

We are now in Book 4, the date is July 30, 1636, and the ambassadors are about to board the Friedrich, and leave Nizhny Novgorod for Astrakhan, where the Volga River empties into the Caspian Sea.

But they discover that a labor dispute has been simmering among the shipbuilders, and a reckoning of construction costs is required. Upon investigation, they find two issues. One, that the recruiter who had hired the workers is getting a kickback of 40 rubles in exchange for securing higher wages. And two, that a blacksmith who had cheated the company is now threatened with punishment that might include a death sentence.

It is now the spring of 1636. For the past two-and-a-half years, our ambassadors from Holstein have traveled to Moscow twice over land and sea. Not only have they been shipwrecked, shot, kicked by horses, and thrown off sleds into the snow, they’ve been attacked by Russian insects and German mercenaries. And they’ve partied with Livonian nobles, with Swedish ambassadors, and with working-class Russians on the frontier.

Ambassadors Bruggeman and Crusius are negotiating the company’s departure to Persia, imploring the Tsar to confirm everything previously agreed with Duke Frederick, and invoking the family ties between the two men.

On April 3, Crusius addresses the Tsar on behalf of the Duke. The abbreviated version is: “His Princely Excellence now requests Your Tsarist Majesty, as a friend, uncle, brother-in-law, to grant us a secret audience, to hear our plea, and to act upon it favorably.”

Welcome to The Voyages and Travels of the Ambassadors, the epic story of a 17th century trade expedition from Germany to Persia that failed so completely its leader was publicly executed upon his return. This is Episode 4: Back to Moscow.

So far, our trade ambassadors from Holstein have sailed up the Baltic, traveled overland to Moscow, and been granted permission by Tsar Mikhail I to cross Russian territory into Persia. But Duke Frederick of Holstein must also sign the treaty and approve a first-year payment to the Tsar of 600,000 reichthalers. The ambassadors make the return trip in the dead of winter.

They spend three weeks in Reval, the modern city of Tallinn, and the journey is going well until February 2, when our intrepid author, Adam Olearius, is almost killed by friendly fire in the small city of Parnau.

Welcome to The Voyages and Travels of the Ambassadors, the epic story of a 17th century trade expedition from Germany to Persia that failed so completely its leader was publicly executed upon his return. This is Episode 3: To Moscow.

It is now the end of July 1634, and the company is, once again, eager to get moving, but they are forced to remain in a small island fort on Lake Ladoga, called Nöteburg because it is shaped like a nut, for another three weeks. They arrive in Great Novgorod on July 29, where Paul Fleming and others in the advance group have been waiting since February.

On August 7, the citizens of Budovo release swarms of bees among the caravan, causing the horses to “stand upon their hinder feet, and beat the ground, as if they had been bewitched.” They make camp in a field. A week later they arrive in Moscow.

The entrance into Moscow is comical, but obviously serious in the same way our modern processions of politicians arrive in a caravan of black SUV’s. Upon entering the city, they see whole streets burned down by a fire so violent it had reduced 5,000 homes to ash, forcing many inhabitants to take shelter in tents and huts. The pristav installs them in their assigned quarters, two ordinary homes made of wood, and apologizes that the fire has also burned down the ambassadorial residence usually used for such visits.

In Episode 1, we followed the Ambassadors on their winter voyage up the Baltic Sea from Lubeck to Riga, and then overland to Narva in a convoy of horse-drawn sleds. We pick up the story as Adam Olearius and his companions are waiting for Tsar Mikhail I to authorize their entry into Russia. It is now January 1634, and as the company waits to get moving, I will introduce the ambassadors chosen for the journey by Frederick, Duke of Holstein.