In the land of the lion and sun, or, modern Persia

by C. J. Wills

Of the many palaces none were worth description, of those that I visited, which were all mere summer retreats. They were gaudy, much painted and gilt, and the white plaster-work, decorated with mirrors, was the only kind of ornamentation having the slightest pretence to be artistic. The dry climate, however, enables this effective style of decoration to be used for exteriors, and it retains its pristine whiteness in the clear air for many years. Many large buildings seen from a distance in Teheran have a great appearance of magnificence, and it does not strike the beholder at first that they are merely plaster-of-Paris over mud bricks. To them the term “whitened sepulchre” is particularly appropriate; but the insecurity of property must be considered, and a man would be unwise to build an expensive edifice which would expose him to jealousy.

The bazaars are good, and sufficiently curious; of course much inferior in size and richness to those of Stamboul (Constantinople). Most of the goods exposed, not of native manufacture, are Russian.[36]

The Russian goods are liked in the Eastern market. They are very cheap, and very strong; in fact, are suited to the country; they are also, alas! very ugly. The tremendous land journey from Trebizonde, or that from the Persian Gulf, or the alternative from Baghdad viâ Kermanshah, closes the Persian market at Teheran to the English. Fortunes, however, are made there, an importer of French goods (which are particularly appreciated by the Persians) having retired with a large one. About four hundred per cent. is generally charged, which covers the heavy freight and the duty, and leaves about cent. per cent. profit.

We found a great deal of gaiety at Teheran. A weekly dinner at the Embassy, generally a daily drive, and the society of many Europeans of different nationalities, was of course a great break in the monotony of our life in Persia. But our pleasures after four months were interrupted by the serious illness of my wife. Our second little boy was born, and we were lucky in having a reliable nurse.

The view of Teheran is made very unique by the great semi-extinct volcano, Demarvend, in the distance, which gives it great grandeur, towering, as it does, over the valley, with its top covered in eternal snows, and taking innumerable lovely tints at the rising and setting of the sun.

We came to Teheran by the longer way of Natanz, thus avoiding the great Kohrūd pass, a particularly unpleasant stage when there is much snow; and as my wife was really an invalid, we determined to return to Ispahan driving—a thing no one has done before, and I fancy no one will do again. I had a new set of wheels made specially strong and heavy, and with very strong tyres. I succeeded in buying a second pair of half-broken horses, in case my own pair came to grief, and we left in the autumn for Ispahan, the nurse and babies occupying the takhtrowan, while my wife and I went in the trap.

We drove through the town with some trouble, and as soon as we were clear of the fortifications the road became broad and level, and we reached Hadjiabad, a garden, where we stopped the night.

The next day we crossed a rocky mountain, having to drag the phaeton by hand some miles, and then, locking the wheels with ropes, we got it down a very steep place. The rest was plain sailing; the roads were generally fairly good. My wife had to get out only some four times on a fifteen days’ journey, and it was only on getting into or out of villages, where there were at times deep ditches, but plenty of willing helpers, that we had any difficulty.

On our last stage but three we mistook the road, and came forty-eight miles instead of twenty-four. We, however, only used our second pair once, as they were very unsafe; and our horses, strange to say, did the whole journey well, and arrived in fair condition.

At the last stage but two a ridiculous accident occurred. We had frequently snapped the heads of bolts, and even the bolts themselves, by going over very rough places, the jolt breaking the heads off, as they were steel. These we generally detected and replaced by others, which we had caused to be made in Teheran. But Mūrchicah is a big village, with numerous twists and turns between dead walls ere one gets to the post-house. We had come a long stage, were very tired, and very anxious to get in, and, instead of going over a deep dry ditch which we had to pass, and which was very narrow, in a careful way, I was foolish enough to try to pass it quickly. The result was a snap of all three bolts that fixed the trap to what is, I fancy, technically termed the fore-carriage. The thing hung together till we had got the hind wheels out of the ditch, and then the horses, pole, and two front wheels went on, the carriage itself remaining behind and falling forward; and, had not the apron been up, we should have been shot out. Fortunately the reins were long, and the horses easily pulled up. They were probably unaware of the accident. Though we were in the village there was no one about. The servants were either in front with the bedding, or behind with the loads, yet in five minutes the bolts were replaced by fresh ones, and we were proceeding on our way.