I passed a fortnight in Major S—’s house, and gradually got some sort of smattering of colloquial Persian; but I could not see much of the place, for I had no servant of my own, and, though a horse was always at my disposal, not knowing the language, I was unable to go out alone, and was forced to content myself with rides on the “Gulhaek Road” with my chief, Mr. B—.

This “Gulhaek Road” was the usual ride, simply because it was at that time the only attempt at a road on our side—or, in fact, any side—of Teheran. It led past the Kasr-i-Kajar, one of the royal palaces, to Gulhaek, where the English Legation summered, and also to the other numerous villages at the foot of the mountains, at each of which a foreign legation during the summer hung out its ensign; as Zergendeh, where the Russians lived; Tejreesh, the French, &c.

One visit we paid, to a gentleman who had been many years in the Persian service, was rather amusing. Our host was an old Frenchman who held an appointment as instructor in French and translator to the Shah, and was a Mahommedan. I do not know whether the account I heard of his mode of life was true or not. It was that he proceeded to Hamadan every year, and invested in two wives; as the spring came round he divorced them, and made his annual excursion, returning with two more. He was a very cheery old man, and evidently derived great comfort from a barrel-organ that stood in his room. Of his other comforts I know nothing, but I did see two remarkably clean pairs of ankles and two remarkably fine pairs of eyes. This was all one could make out of two closely-veiled females, who, with many giggles, constantly bustled in and out of the room on divers pretexts. The Frenchman had a large collection of valuable antiquities, which he showed us, and they were all genuine. That was seventeen years ago; now, in a hundred specimens from Persia, be they what they will, ninety are shams. Amongst other treasures he had a fine balass ruby as big as a florin, on which was cut an intaglio of a Sassanian king, which was, I believe, afterwards purchased by Mr. Alison (then Her Majesty’s Minister) for a large sum. At that time the craze for objects of oriental art had not set in, and the big tiles we saw (or bricks) of reflet métallique, with raised inscriptions, were such as one seldom sees nowadays, save in national collections.

Our host’s history had doubtless been a checkered one, and I was told on good authority that he had a faithful page who waited on him, and—gaily dressed as a boy-pipebearer, a favourite attendant with the wealthy of the capital—attended his master wherever he went. The page was a lady in disguise, and a Mussulman; but, alas! this romantic episode could not be allowed to continue. Some busybody betrayed him to the priests, he and the lady were arrested, and he had the usual choice of Islam or death. Under the circumstances he chose the former, and retained, under an outward conformance to the tenets of Mussulmanism, a practical power of jollity and “keeping it up” which few of the most advanced viveurs could rival. I was afterwards led to understand that the French Minister of the day at the Court of Persia had the power, but not the will, to protect the poor fellow against the very unpleasant choice given him. Years sober us all, and I saw the gentleman long afterwards, a most grave and reverend seigneur.

The Persian New Year was about to commence, and, as there is always a jubilee reception of all the foreign ambassadors by the Shah, it was decided that Colonel G— should be presented at it by the minister, and I too was to have the pleasure of seeing the splendours of the Persian Court; after which Major S—, who was going to Baghdad on duty, kindly promised to allow me to accompany him as far as Hamadan, where I should enter on my active duties.

One morning my medical chief asked me if I should like to visit the anderūn, or ladies’ quarter, of a great Persian nobleman?

“As you are going down country you probably won’t have the chance again; and I have seen such things too often for it to be any pleasure to me.”

Of course I was delighted. I hurriedly put on a long-tailed coat, which is de rigueur in visiting a Persian house, our short ones being considered by them as extremely indecent. I had goloshes on over my boots, and rode off with one of B—’s servants to the house of the Eyn-ul-Molk (eye of the state); such titles, not being hereditary ones, are usual among the statesmen and great officials of Persia.

“The Sword of the State,” “The Pillar of the Kingdom,” “The Shadow of the King,” are all titles in actual use; they are sufficiently high-sounding and poetical even to satisfy a Persian’s sense of dignity.

No sooner is a prince born, than the king proceeds to give him a title, which as he grows in dignity and years is often changed for a higher one; thus, when I came to Persia, Sultan Massūd Mirza, the eldest son of the king, was known as Yemeen-u-dowlet, or Sword of the State; this some ten years afterwards, when the young man became a real power in the kingdom, was changed to Zil-es-Sultan, or Shadow of the King.

On reaching the house of Eyn-ul-Molk, I was at once conducted to his presence, given a chair, and treated with great consideration. I removed my goloshes at the door of his apartment. An interpreter, who spoke pigeon French, informed me that one of the ladies was ill, and that I had better see her and prescribe.

The Eyn-ul-Molk was a blear-eyed, venerable man of evidently high position, very rich and very anxious; as the interpreter put it, the patient was trop jolie pour mourir, and my expectations were considerably aroused.

I was handed over to a white eunuch, who seemed to be troubled with all the ills that flesh is heir to, and who grunted and grumbled a good deal as he led me towards the part of the house set apart for the habitation of the ladies.

After passing through several yards and passages, we came to a low door with a curtain. My guide entered, and raised the curtain, previously shouting “Bero! bero!” (be off, be off).

A crowd of children and negresses scuttled off into the various rooms which surrounded a well-kept garden, with beds of flowers and playing fountains, some thirty yards by fifteen.

Those who did not go out of sight drew down the big sheets of printed calico that covered their heads, turning themselves into faceless bundles, terminated in bare legs visible to the knee, with feet either bare or thrust into tiny slippers; even the very little girls had veils, though they did not cover their faces, and were mostly pretty little round-faced things, with large eyes, and fringes of black hair cut across their foreheads.

I had been told not to appear to notice anything, as that would be interpreted as a desire to look at the inhabitants of the anderūn, which would be considered the height of bad breeding. So I kept my eyes discreetly fixed on the ground, feeling certain that I should find plenty of time for thorough investigation.

The old eunuch took me into a room, beautifully carpeted, and bare of all furniture save one chair, on which I was directed to sit.

He left me, and I noticed that the room was decorated with small mirrors let into elaborately cut plaster-of-Paris work; the walls were so covered with small facets of mirror that one could hardly see anything of the white plaster, which was arched at the ceiling, arch within arch, in the manner so familiar to us in the decoration of the Alhambra; but a peculiarly chaste effect was produced, for neither colour nor gilding was used—only pure white plaster and mirror. In many places there were panels, where plaster-work, cut (not moulded) in high relief, showed patterns whose effectiveness could not be denied. In fact, the result was one of chastened splendour quite new to me. The doors, which were of polished walnut-wood, were covered by curtains of bright colours of Yezd silk, some six feet by four, simply suspended in front of them. The window, which occupied one entire end of the room, was composed of small pieces of glass of all the colours of the rainbow, set in a wooden frame of a geometrical pattern of a very elaborate nature; as the window was some fourteen feet by ten, and no piece of glass was more than two inches square in size, some idea may be formed of the enormous amount of work in such a piece of carpentry. The wood employed in such work is plane, and it does not warp.

This window was made in three compartments; each one was made to draw up when required, thus giving a full view of the garden; all were, however, at present down, and the coloured light which entered produced a very rich effect—a relief, too, from the strong sunlight outside.

Round three sides of the room were nummuds, or felt carpets, some two inches thick; as one walked on them, it was like going over the softest turf; they were light-ochre in colour, with a pale-blue pattern inlaid. In the centre was a carpet some twenty feet by nine. I had never seen such a carpet; it was very beautiful, but of very subdued colours, and of a rather large pattern.

In each of the three walls there were three recesses or takhjahs, a yard from the ground, and in each of these was placed a glass vase of narcissus blooms; as every vase contained some hundred stems, the perfume was somewhat overpowering.

The eunuch now returned, seated himself on the ground at my side, and a black woman, of hideous aspect, brought me a water-pipe.

While I was smoking it, the curtain at one of the doors was lifted, and two young ladies entered, aged from sixteen to eighteen, though they seemed some three or four-and-twenty to me. I must acknowledge that I was unprepared for such a free display of loveliness, and it was the first time I ever saw Persian ladies in their very becoming, if slightly indelicate, home-dress.

Their feet and legs were bare; their skirts were bouffés by a number of under-skirts such as are usually worn by the ballet on our operatic stage; but instead of these under-garments being white and gauzy, they were of silk, and of all colours. The outer skirt was of silk also—in the one case pale pink, in the other pale blue—with gold patterns on them, and these voluminous skirts barely reached their knees. Each lady wore a small zouave jacket of bright-coloured gold-embroidered velvet, with tight-fitting sleeves, which buttoned from the elbow with a multitude of small silver buttons, but these buttons were not fastened. A gold-embroidered gauze shirt was worn under this jacket that left, I am sorry to say, nothing to the imagination; the sleeves of it were wide and open. Each lady had tied a gold-embroidered silk kerchief, called a “chargāt,” over her head, fastened by a brooch at the chin; each had a fringe of hair over her forehead, and each had a big love-lock, which came from under her kerchief, at the middle of her cheek. Long tresses of black hair came below their waists.

Both were good-looking plump girls, in robust health. Both giggled, and both were full of fun.

The one who was supposed to be ill had not coloured a very rosy pair of cheeks; the other was heavily rouged. Their eyelashes were darkened with antimony, but their eyebrows were unpainted. The Persian woman’s eye is usually very dark and large, and the painting the edges of the lids produces a very languishing effect.

After talking to the eunuch for some minutes, in which the old fellow evidently was calling these very gushing ladies to order, they suddenly plumped down on their knees in front of me, and compelled me to feel both their pulses, look at both their tongues, examine their throats, and a second time to feel their pulses at the other wrist.

As I understood very little Persian, and neither they nor the eunuch anything but that language, it was very difficult to make out what was the matter. One thing was very certain—they looked upon the whole matter as a very good joke; and seemed inclined to torment the eunuch and make great fun of me.

At last one lady showed me a flea-bite on a very round and shapely arm, which literally jangled with glass bangles and gold bracelets. As this was the most serious symptom I had yet seen, I began to think I had better retire, when tea was brought in by a young negress.

The ladies, the eunuch, and myself, all partook, but the two ladies did so with shrieks of laughter, in which the negress joined.

Suddenly a cry of “Aga! aga!” (the master, the master) was raised, and I saw the Eyn-ul-Molk coming up the garden. The two indiscreet ones became at once staid matrons of the severest type. They sprang to the other side of the room, they drew their kerchiefs, or rather the corners of them, over their faces, leaving the eyes alone visible; and the young negress who had brought the tea became a statue of propriety in ebony, pulling her big print veil over her mouth till she looked like a living bolster.

The old nobleman came in, and I was made to feel again the pulses of my patient, and again look at her tongue. But nothing but her eyes and tongue were now visible, and both ladies pretended to look on the infidel doctor with horror. They answered their husband’s questions only in a whisper, and in a few minutes I followed the Eyn-ul-Molk to the “berūni,” or general apartments. I noticed that these were furnished with much less luxury than the women’s side.

I now managed to find out that the fair sufferer had that morning very early had a slight attack of intermittent fever, and, with the help of the interpreter, I said that I would prescribe on getting home.

The farewell pipe was brought, and I retired, I trust, gracefully. Thus ended my first visit to a Persian patient.

I suppose that my remedies were successful, for, though I was not asked to attend again, I received a plate of oranges and two dried salmon as a fee, with a polite message of thanks in a day or two.

As this visit had occupied some four hours in all, I came to the conclusion that I should not add much to my income by private practice, the result of an attendance on the wife of a great noble being so small in a money point of view; and though interesting at the time from its novelty, yet I felt that that would soon pass off.

I had been regularly robbed of my rest, after the first few dreamless nights that one has at the end of a long journey, by a sort of hooting sound, followed by cries of “ya huc, h-u-u-u-c.” These noises were repeated at irregular intervals all through the night, and I found also that they occurred in the day-time whenever Major S— entered or left the house. They proceeded from the Major’s dervish, and they grew louder and more frequent day by day.

The dervishes, or wandering mendicants, are persons who, from laziness or inclination, take a vow of poverty, either for a time or permanently. They form various colleges or sects, and have recognised heads (“mūrsheds”) to whom they show great deference. It is extremely difficult to find out what their precise tenets are, for the more learned among them have a great disinclination to discussing religious matters with the infidel, while the more ignorant seem, when sane, to have really no religion, save that of doing no work. In many ways they resemble the monks of old amongst ourselves, though, as—in Persia at least—they seldom live in communities, “wandering friars” would be a safer comparison. Persians as a rule dislike and despise them, but they fear to offend the masses by showing it, and cede to them a great show of deference. The more respectable simply wander about, obtaining free food and lodging in any town they may pass through. Others combine the profession of travelling mountebank and dealer in charms with that of religious mendicancy.

Many are clothed all in white, having taken a vow to that effect; and most of them refrain from shaving or from cutting the hair. All, or nearly all, wear a tall cap of felt or cloth, shaped like a sugar-loaf, and ornamented by inscriptions of texts from the Koran. Most of them carry a carved almsholder, which is generally composed of a huge nut elaborately carved, and suspended by brass or silver chains from the waistband. A steel axe is often carried, and a panther or deer-skin worn. All affect a striking and eccentric appearance, and all have a lean and travel-worn air, save some few, who merely affect the costume, and are dervishes only in dress.

One man who used to haunt the Gulhaek Road was entirely naked, and was a most importunate and offensive beggar. A European got into some trouble on this man’s account, for on his accosting him with great importunity, and then proceeding to curse him because his demands were ungratified, the despised infidel administered several lashes with the long thong of his hunting-crop.

Another celebrated dervish, who is a man of some property, draws a good pension from the Shah, and is sent yearly to some shrine to pray for the king, his expenses being defrayed from the royal purse. He perpetually rotates his head, after the manner of the harlequin of the old school, and incessantly vociferates in a loud voice, Ali Oh! Ali Oh! As he is always bareheaded, and an old man rather inclined to corpulence, the result is not edifying; but his perquisites must be very large, as he is well known to possess the royal favour. Provincial governors and local magnates treat royally “him whom the king is delighted to honour.” I have seen this man roll his head continuously and vociferate his cry, merely pausing for breath, for three hours at a stretch: the power of doing this continuously can only have been attained by long practice. His journeys over all Persia are so frequent, and he is so well known, that in every large town great crowds turn out to gaze on and follow “Ali Oh!”, by which name the man is always known.

A striking appearance is attained at all hazards; often the clothing being merely a pair of short drawers, an antelope, panther, or tiger-skin being slung across the shoulder, and an axe or huge club, often armed with spikes, being almost invariably carried.

When a dervish meets a horseman or any one of condition he offers him in the politest manner a flower, or even a leaf or blade of grass; as a rule it is accepted and a trifle given. At other times the dervish will simply stretch out his hand or his almsholder, and favour the passer-by with a steady stare, the word “huc” (my right) being suddenly ejaculated.

Dervishes are often professional story-tellers, the costume being merely donned for effect; or, as in the case of a highly-gifted story-teller of my acquaintance, one Aga Nusserulla of Shiraz, a man who earned a good living by his erudite and interesting tales, the cap only was worn, and that merely when engaged in his public recitals; he also carried the big iron axe, with which he gesticulated in a manner really graceful and artistic.

I often, as I grew more acquainted with Persian, had this man in to beguile the tedium of the long evenings, and he would sit by the hour under the orange-trees, rattling off an endless story freely interspersed with poetical recitations, which were always apposite and well given—in fact, they were intoned. He never allowed the interest of his tales to flag, and never left off, save at a point so interesting as to ensure a request for his attendance the succeeding evening, adopting the principle of the lady of the ‘Arabian Nights.’ I frequently, on passing through the Maidan, or public square, of Shiraz, saw Aga Nusserulla surrounded by a gaping crowd of peasants, porters, and muleteers squatting in a circle, he striding up and down and waving his axe as he told his story of love or fairyland; then he recognised my presence by merely the slightest drop of his eyelid, for his harvest of coppers would have been blighted had he betrayed to his gaping listeners his intimacy with a “Feringhi” (“Frank”—the term used in Persia for all Europeans to their face; that of “Kaffir,” or “unbeliever,” being carefully kept for speaking of them in their absence).

The tales told in the bazaar to the villagers were mostly bristling with indecency; but the dervish never transgressed in this respect on getting a hint from me that that sort of thing was unpleasing, and his stories were always of great interest, intensely pathetic at times, and at others very comic. His power of imitation was great; the voices of his old men and women were unmistakable, while the sex of the lovers was equally distinct, and his laugh was infectious and sympathetic.

Another dervish I knew was a man six-feet-six in height, who was possessed of the sounding title of “King Panther” (Shah Paleng). This man’s only title to respect was his great height and startling appearance, for he was but a stupid and pertinacious beggar, after all. I had the misfortune to make his acquaintance, having selected him as a good photographic type; I got my type, but could not get rid of my model, always finding the fellow seated in my courtyard, engaged apparently in religious meditation. It was only by the strongest remonstrance with my servants that I could get him kept out of the house, and even then he used to haunt my door.

Dervishes, as a rule, have many vices. They have very often vague ideas of meum and tuum, and debauch and rob the wives of the villagers by tricks; in fact, their holiness is more believed in by the women than the men throughout Persia. Many are drunkards, others take opium; this is often the cause of their haggard appearance.

Others indulge in the smoking or drinking of bhang, or Indian hemp, and when under the intoxicating influence of this drug, a state which is induced prior to the coming-on of the stupefying effect, they have been guilty of great and dreadful crimes.

In Shiraz they were credited with nightly orgies and the celebration of unknown rites, the mysteries and horrors of which were probably much exaggerated, being possibly merely debauches of smoking and drinking.

So common is the condition of the dervish in Persia, that in each of the big towns there is a shop appropriated to the sale of their paraphernalia of tiger-skins, axes, embroidered hats, &c.

The vows seem simply to consist of those of poverty and obedience to a chief, with a payment of a portion of the alms extracted from the charitable to him. There is no vow of continence; and, on the whole, a dervish may be generally said to imply an idle “vagrom” man, who lives by imposing on the good-nature of others.

We were approaching the Aid-i-No-Ruz, or festival of the New Year, when it is the custom of the dervishes to erect a sort of tent at the street-door of any personage, and to remain in it till dismissed with a present.

Major S—, as an undoubted personage, had a dervish sent to his house. He had suffered from the infliction before, and had bought himself off on that occasion by a gift of fifty kerans (two pounds), but this time he was determined to grin and bear it, thinking that by making a stand he would escape a similar infliction in the future.

The chief of the dervishes indicates to his subordinates the houses that they are to besiege, and they are allotted to the various members of the fraternity according to seniority—the king, the prime minister, the chancellor, and so on, downwards.

When I say that every man of standing had his dervish, it will be seen that there were many of the brotherhood at that time in Teheran.

Every foreign minister had one at his door, and I am sure that any Persian of consideration would have been very loth to be without this very visible sign of greatness.

The Major’s dervish was to be found in the street day and night, in or beside his so-called tent; this consisted of some two yards of thin canvas, pegged into the wall at the side of the outer gate, and held down by three pieces of string. The dervish sat by day on an antelope-skin, and by night (if he ever did sleep) slept on it in his clothes.

As any one, visitor or host, entered or left the house, a shrill blast was blown on a buffalo-horn, and the man emitted his monotonous “Huc—yah huc” and extended his palm. He had a small pot of live charcoal before him; and smoking, and his so-called garden (a sort of playing at gardening, six twigs of box-tree being planted in a little heap of dust, and an orange being placed between each), occupied a good deal of his time.

The annoying part of it was that he was always there, and that we could never forget, or fail to notice this fact, from the persistent salutations of “Salaam, sahib!” smilingly given, or the eternal cries and blasts of the buffalo-horn, by which he made night hideous and the day unbearable. As time wore on and the New Year approached, the blasts and cries became more prolonged and more frequent, and the whole household became more and more depressed. We all knew that the servants were providing the man with two square meals a day and unlimited tobacco, of course quite contrary to orders.

But I think the greatest sufferers were myself and a friend, whose bedroom-window was above the so-called tent of this demon in human form. Patience has its limits, and one morning we determined to, as we hoped, induce our bugbear to shift his quarters. We poured our two tubs into one, and carefully choosing our moment, suddenly emptied the contents on the tent.

Down it came on the head of the dervish, putting out his fire-pot, and producing a very free succession of invocations to saints.

But, alas! when we went out in the morning, hoping to find him gone, we were received with “Salaam, sahib!” and a solo on the horn that for volume, Harper, of trumpet fame, might have vainly attempted to emulate.

We slunk off, but vowed further vengeance. The next day we determined on a baptism of fire, and we carefully stoked our “mangal,” or brazier, till it gave off a fine red heat, and was quite full of live charcoal. At that time, when there were few fire-places in the rooms of Persian houses, it was usual to employ these braziers to warm the rooms.

We did not impart our design to the Major, who would doubtless have disapproved, but as soon as the coast was clear, and we were sure that the dervish was in his tent, we prepared for action.

We had got the brazier into position, when the wretch commenced one of his frantic solos; down came the contents, some twenty pounds of live charcoal and wood-ashes.

The dervish laughed at such things, and blew a defiant blast; but in a moment the charcoal, having burnt through the tent-roof, descended on his flowing locks, and, amidst deriding shouts of “Khock ber ser um!” (ashes on my head), a favourite form of imprecation with Persians, from my companion, the dervish emerged considerably the worse.

We were delighted, and felt that we had been at last too many for him. Though our minds were not quite free from visions of a severe wigging from the Major, we felt we had triumphed, and hurried down to tell our tale.

We then found that the dervish had exhausted even the Major’s patience, and had received his present and gone. We maintained a discreet silence. Whether the Major heard of our two attacks I never knew, but the man was gone—tent, garden, fire-pot, oranges, and all. Perhaps the treatment he got was considered too bad; anyhow, he was gone, and we ceased to hear nightly “the voice which cried, Sleep no more.”

A few days after the above little drama came the Aid-i-No-Ruz, or New Year’s Day: the excitement was great. It appeared that uniform of some sort was de rigueur, and Colonel G— kindly lent me a blue frock-coat with many frogs, and a gold-laced cap; a pair of uniform inexpressibles with a broad red stripe, were got from some one else; a cavalry sabre and a pair of buckskin gloves completed the semi-military appearance which is possessed by officers of the English army on the stage; there they always live in uniform, off it never; a pair of goloshes were also donned!

I was only too grateful to complete my nondescript rig-out, for, determined as I was to see the sight, and uniform of some sort being a sine quâ non, Mr. Alison, Her Majesty’s Minister, had kindly placed at my disposal the full-dress costume of a Highland chief, in which all my friends were dying to see me, and in which I should no doubt have presented a striking appearance; and rather than not go, I was determined to don even so appalling a costume as that worn by the traditional Highlander.

I had girded on my sword, when my medical chief entered in a frock-coat similar to mine, but with fewer frogs, and a cap with much narrower lace.

We were doubtless filled with mutual admiration, but my chief’s eye soon fell on my wealth of frogs, for was not I disguised as a lieutenant-colonel, while he was merely a travesty of a captain?

“This will never do, Wills. Why, I shall appear to be your subordinate!”

There was no doubt of the justice of the remark. My plumage was decidedly the handsomer. I consented to a change to the less-befrogged and humbler coat; but my chief had long arms, and what was short in the sleeve for me was only half-way down his fore-arm, and he showed all his cuff and a good deal of shirt-sleeve. He looked now undoubtedly my senior, but also as if he had grown considerably since that coat was made. We had to stick to our caps, as my head was too big to get into his.

We all collected, and we two doctors caused some amusement by our very martial array; in fact, our get-up was a considerable likeness to that of “the bold gendarmes.”

Off we went, all on horseback, to the English Mission (or Legation), and we joined the procession of his Excellency, Mr. Alison, who was doubtless disappointed not to have in his train a spurious Highland chief.

The streets were crowded; every one, to the poorest, in new clothes, for the Persian on this auspicious day always puts on a new suit. Many of the streets and bazaars were lined by soldiers of rather unmartial appearance, and most of them were preparing plumes of white cocks’ feathers, which they got ready with a knife, a bit of stick, and some string.

The din was tremendous. Gradually we neared the palace, and, getting down at one of the side doors of it, we entered in the order of our rank, the ambassador and Colonel G—, in full uniform, with cocked hats, leading the procession; then came the secretaries, then the mission doctor, the major, then my chief, while I came last and least, the junior of all.

Passing through many courtyards crowded with grandees and their servants, we came into a handsome apartment well provided with chairs; there we found the other ambassadors and their suites, viz., the French, Russian, and Turkish, who had preceded our party; they were in full dress, and wore all their orders.

Pipes were handed round, and then trays of sherbet (iced water flavoured with syrups) and coffee; also a profusion of sweetmeats.

After some half-hour, the master of the ceremonies—who was arrayed in the tall turban of Cashmere shawls, the long robe of the same, trimmed with fur, and the red stockings, that constitute the Court dress of Persia; decorated with numerous orders and the portrait of his sovereign set in diamonds—preceded Mr. Alison, who, as the “doyen” of the ambassadors, took precedence of the other nationalities; and ushered us in.

We entered a garden, up the path of which were laid carpets, and in the midst was a fountain; various little formal beds, filled with narcissus and planted with shrubs, occupied the rest of the space, while a long “hauz,” or enclosed basin, raised some six inches from the ground, ran down the centre; the water in this, which was quite still, was ornamented with an elaborate pattern, formed on its surface by sprinkling handfuls of rose-leaves, and the effect was pretty in the extreme. All round the edge of the hauz were placed a continuous row of oranges.

A few of the royal body-guard, or “gholams,” with their guns in red cloth cases, slung over their shoulders, stood about in motionless groups; also some of the king’s ministers and more favoured servants chatted in whispers; while at an open window sat the Shah-in-Shah, or King of kings and Asylum of the Universe.

When we had all entered we made a military salute, to which the Shah vouchsafed no reply; after a few more paces, we halted again and made a second; and then we were ushered into the room itself in which his Majesty deigned to receive us. Here we all formed in single file in order of rank behind our respective ambassadors, thus forming four files.

The Shah was on our entrance no longer sitting, but lounged against a table; on it lay his jewelled sword, which, covered as it was with diamonds, literally glittered in the strong sunbeams, these also illuminated the jewels with which the king really blazed; the royal plume, or “jika,” of white feathers and diamonds trembled on the black hat of finest Astrachan lambskin, shimmering with rays of many-coloured light.

I learnt afterwards that as the Shah, if he sits himself, is obliged to give seats to the ambassadors, he avoided it by not sitting down, but lounged in the manner described. There was nothing particularly striking in the room; it was much over-decorated, and in the most barbarous taste; the carpets, however, were valuable.

The ambassadors now all gave the king a military salute, and so did the suites and hangers-on. To this his Majesty returned a not over-gracious nod. The king now addressed them in turn, and each ambassador replied through his dragoman or Oriental secretary, replying to the questions as to his sovereign’s health, and congratulating the Shah on his festival. Mr. Alison presented a new secretary, and introduced Colonel G—, who was favourably received, and in fluent and graceful Persian he replied to the Shah’s queries, and made somewhat of a speech on telegraph matters, which was also graciously received, the Shah assenting frequently. The king now unceremoniously left the room, and every one saluted.

We all hurried off to see the great ceremony of the public salaam. We were ushered pell-mell into a room that commanded on one side the court of audience, on the other the public square of Teheran. In the former were drawn up in rows, according to their degree, all the officers of state, all the governors of provinces, all the generals and servants of the Crown, the secretaries of various departments, and the foreign employés, among whom I saw Mr. D— and one of the signallers, of the Telegraph Department.

We were told that in a few moments the Shah would lighten their countenances by appearing in an open balcony above our heads.

The royal “farrashes,” or carpet-spreaders, armed with long wands of unpeeled boughs, who surrounded the courtyard, began to beat the few unauthorized onlookers at the far corners, and on a sudden the whole crowd bowed nearly to the ground—a ceremony in which the unfortunate Mr. D— had to join nolens volens. This told us that the king had shown himself.

The prostration was repeated a second and a third time. Then the Prime Minister, having his rod of office, with many bows, mumbled a speech to his Majesty; to which the king replied in a few words in a loud voice.

A priest in a green turban (being a Syud or descendant of the prophet) now recited what was apparently a long prayer: a dress of honour on a tray was immediately, by the king’s order, produced, and placed on his shoulders; and this was no empty compliment, for I was told by an experienced onlooker that the cloak was worth one hundred pounds or more.

Then a poet recited an ode, and got also a dress of honour; and then, at the royal command, men bearing trays of gold coin distributed handfuls to the officials, the number and size of the handful being in proportion to rank; the bigger people, who stood in the front ranks, getting the larger and more numerous handfuls. Even Mr. D—, who was in a back row, got some seventy kerans (three pounds). The coins were gold, and very thin, and are instituted for this special occasion; they are called “shahis,” which is, literally, “king’s money,” and were worth some one shilling and eightpence each. During the excitement and scramble that the distribution occasioned, the king retired, and the orderly ranks of Government servants became at once a seething crowd.

We lookers-on now crossed the room and stood at a balcony which commanded the public square. This was kept clear by a double line of soldiers all in new clothes for the occasion. The space was occupied by dancers, buffoons, jugglers, wrestlers, sword-and-buckler men, and owners of fighting sheep and bulls, with their animals; while in front of the big pond or hauz, immediately below our balcony, stood twenty wretched Jews in rags and tatters, prepared to be thrust head over heels into the water for the royal delectation.

The king’s farrashes kept up showers of good-humoured blows on an equally good-humoured crowd at all the entrances. Not less than fourteen to sixteen thousand people were present; all were on the tiptoe of expectation.

Suddenly a cannon from among a battery in the square was discharged, and the king appeared. The entire crowd bowed to the ground three times; then the people shouted and cheered, the dancers went through their antics, the buffoons began their jokes, some forty pairs of wrestlers struggled for mastery, among whom was the king’s giant, seven feet eight inches high; gymnasts threw up and caught huge clubs, and showed feats of strength and skill; the swordsmen engaged in cut and thrust, hacking each other’s bucklers; the jugglers showed their sleight of hand; the fighting bulls and sheep rushed at each other; the royal bands and the regimental ones struck up different tunes; the zambūreks (or camel artillery) discharged their little cannon; the Jews were cast into the tank, and on coming out were again thrown in by the farrashes and executioners; while the rest of the cannon fired away merrily in every direction; the bulls got among the crowd, the women shrieked and the men shouted.

Handfuls of gold coin were thrown to the various performers, for which they violently scrambled; and amidst the smoke and cries the king retired.

The royal salaam was over, and we struggled through the crowd within the palace to our horses at the gate, and rode home through a happy mob, having assisted at a great Persian festival.

I dined at the Russian, English, and French embassies several times at Teheran. As the entertainments were European there is nothing to be described.