Some of the women (even among the concubines) are highly educated; can play on the "tar", [E] or harmonica, sing, and read and write poetry; but their recreations are necessarily somewhat limited. Picnics, music, story-telling, kalyan and cigarette smoking, sweetmeat-making, and the bath, together with somewhat less innocent pastimes, form the sum total of a Persian concubine's amusements. Outside the walls of the anderoon they are closely watched and guarded, for Persians are jealous of their women, and, even in the most formal social gatherings, there is a strict separation of the sexes. Its imperial master occasionally joins in the outdoor amusements of his harem; indeed, he himself invented a game a few years since, which sounds more original than amusing. A slide of smooth alabaster about twenty feet long, on an inclined plane, was constructed in one of his bath-houses. Down this the Shah would gravely slide into the water, followed by his seraglio. The sight must have been a strange one, the costumes on these occasions being, to say the least of it, scanty!
[Illustration: PERSIAN DANCING-GIRL]
The Shah's greatest failing is, perhaps, vacillation. He is constantly changing his mind, on trifling matters chiefly, for his northern neighbours take care that he is more consistent in affairs of state. Two or three times, between his visits to Europe in 1871 and 1889, he has started with great pomp and a large retinue for the land of the "Farangi," but, on arrival at Résht, has returned to Teherán, without a word of warning to his ministers, or apparent reason for his sudden change of plans. These "false starts" became a recognized thing after a time, and when, in 1888, his Majesty embarked on his yacht and set sail for Baku, it came as a surprise, pleasant or otherwise, to his subjects at Teherán. The final undertaking of the journey may have been advised by his astrologers, for the Shah is intensely superstitious, and never travels without them. Nor will he, on any account, start on a journey on a Friday, or the thirteenth day of the month.
The palace of Teherán is, seen from the outside, a shapeless, ramshackle structure. The outside walls are whitewashed, and covered with gaudy red and blue pictures of men and horses, the former in modern military tunics and shakos, the latter painted a bright red. The figures, rudely drawn, remind one of a charity schoolboy's artistic efforts on a slate, but are somewhat out of place on the walls of a royal residence. The interior of the "Ark," as it is called, is a pleasant contrast to the outside, although even here, in the museum, which contains some of the finest gems and objets d'art in the world, the various objects are placed with singular disregard of order, not to say good taste. One sees, for instance, a tawdrily dressed mechanical doll from Paris standing next to a case containing the "Darai Nor," or "Sea of Light," a magnificent diamond obtained in India, and said to be the largest yet discovered, though somewhat inferior in quality to the "Koh-i-noor." A cheap and somewhat dilapidated cuckoo-clock and toy velocipede flank the famous globe of the world in diamonds and precious stones. This, the most costly and beautiful piece of workmanship in the place, is about eighteen inches in diameter, and is said to have cost eight millions of francs. The different countries are marked out with surprising accuracy and detail,—Persia being represented by turquoises, England by diamonds, Africa by rubies, and so on, the sea being of emeralds.
The museum itself is about sixty feet in length by twenty-five feet broad, its ceiling composed entirely of looking-glasses, its parquet flooring strewn with priceless Persian rugs and carpets. Large oil-paintings of Queen Victoria, the Czar of Russia, and other sovereigns, surround the walls, including two portraits of her Majesty the Ex-Empress Eugenie. It would weary the reader to wade through a description of the Jade work and cloisonné, the porcelain of all countries, the Japanese works of art in bronze and gold, and last, but not least, the cut and uncut diamonds and precious stones, temptingly laid out in open saucers, like bonbons in a confectioner's shop. The diamonds are perhaps the finest as regards quality, but there is a roughly cut ruby surmounting the imperial crown, said to be the largest in the world.
Though it was very cold, and the snow lay deep upon the ground, my stay at Teherán was not unpleasant. The keen bracing air, brilliant sunshine, and cloudless blue sky somewhat made amends for the sorry lodging and execrable fare provided by mine host at the Hôtel Prevôt. I have seldom, in my travels, come across a French inn where, be the materials ever so poor, the landlord is not able to turn out a decent meal. I have fared well and sumptuously at New Caledonia, Saigon, and even Pekin, under the auspices of a French innkeeper; but at Teherán (nearest of any to civilized Europe) was compelled to swallow food that would have disgraced a fifth-rate gargotte in the slums of Paris. Perhaps Monsieur Prevôt had become "Persianized"; perhaps the dulcet tones of Madame P., whose voice, incessantly rating her servants, reminded one of unoiled machinery, and commenced at sunrise only to be silenced (by exhaustion) at sunset, disturbed him at his culinary labours. The fact remains that the cuisine was, to any but a starving man, uneatable, the bedroom which madame was kind enough to assign to me, pitch dark and stuffy as a dog-kennel.
A long conference with General S—, an Austrian in the Persian service, decided my future movements. The general, one of the highest geographical authorities on Persia, strongly dissuaded my attempting to reach India viâ Meshéd and Afghanistán. "You will only be stopped and sent back," said he; "what is the use of losing time?" I resolved, therefore, after mature deliberation, to proceed direct to Ispahán, Shiráz, and Bushire, and from thence by steamer to Sonmiani, on the coast of Baluchistán. From the latter port I was to strike due north to Kelát and Quetta, and "that," added the general, "will bring you across eighty or a hundred miles of totally unexplored country. You will have had quite enough of it when you get to Kelát—if you ever do get there," he added encouragingly.
The route now finally decided upon, preparations were made for a start as soon as possible. Portmanteaus were exchanged for a pair of light leather saddle-bags, artistically embellished with squares of bright Persian carpet let in at the side, and purchased in the bazaar for twenty-two keráns, or about seventeen shillings English money. In these I was able to carry, with ease, a couple of tweed suits, half a dozen flannel shirts, three pairs of boots, and toilet necessaries, to say nothing of a box of cigars and a small medicine-chest. Gerôme also carried a pair of bags, containing, in addition to his modest wardrobe, our stores for the voyage—biscuits, Valentine's meat juice, sardines, tea, and a bottle of brandy; for, with the exception of eggs and Persian bread, one can reckon upon nothing eatable at the Chapar khanehs. There is an excellent European store shop at Teherán, and had it not been for limited space, we might have regaled on turtle soup, aspic jellies, quails, and pâté de foie gras galore throughout Persia. Mr. R. N——, an attaché to the British Legation at Teherán, is justly celebrated for his repasts en voyage, and assured me that he invariably sat down to a recherché dinner of soup, three courses, and iced champagne, even when journeying to such remote cities as Hamadán or Meshéd, thereby proving that, if you only take your time about it, you may travel comfortably almost anywhere—even in Persia.
[Footnote A: The word Demavend signifies literally "abundance of mist," so called from the summit of this mountain being continually wreathed in clouds.]
[Footnote B: A pipe similar to the Turkish "hubble-bubble," wherein the tobacco is inhaled through plain or rose water.]