Tomb of Hafiz. Mesjid Shah Mirza Hamza.
Sheraz.
Drawn by James Morier Esqr.
Published by Messrs. Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme & Brown, Paternoster Row, May 1, 1811.
Having enjoyed the present remains of the scene, we returned to the high road (on the right of which it is situated) and followed it to the Tengui-Ali-Acbar, a fortified pass in the time of the greatness of Shiraz, and long indeed before that time. Here are the remains of that gate, of which Le Brun in his travels has given a very correct drawing. From the situation in which I sketched the ruin, I fancy that I must have rested upon the very stone where Le Brun took his view: and there is only that difference between the two, which unfortunately exists in the real scene; that mine presents devastation, where his picture displays life and cultivation. An old Derveish now lives in a small cell close to the ruined gate, and refreshes the passing stranger with a cup of pure water. The remaining walls and turrets, which are nearly attached to the gate on the Shiraz side, still attest the artificial strength of the pass in former days; and the formation of the lands around points it out as a spot which the modern perfection of military art would render an almost impregnable hold.
The Takht-a-Cadjar is a pleasure-house about a mile and a half East of the town, erected by the present Family, and situated in an enclosed garden of about twenty acres. It is built on a rock, but is much inferior indeed both in solidity and ornament, to any of the works of Kerim Khan. From the upper window of one of its rooms, I took a view of the city, which extended itself beautifully before me. This pleasure-house is much visited by the Prince; on the left side of it he has an enclosed place in which he keeps antelopes and other game. From the quantity of water which runs through it, the garden itself must be most luxuriant in vegetation, and in summer a most delightful spot.
1st January, 1809. The first day of the new year was fixed for our visit to the Prince. On the day appointed, accordingly Sir Harford, preceded by our Mehmandar, and followed by the gentlemen of his Mission and the body guard, paraded through the town as on the day of our entry, until we reached the gate of state. The streets were filled as before, and the bazars displayed all their wealth. The first gate introduced us immediately from the bazar into the first court of the palace. The breadth and length of this court were of large and fine proportions. The high summits of its walls were crowned with arched battlements, the planes of which were worked in a species of close lattice. We proceeded through this court into another, the spacious area of which seemed to form a complete square. Its magnificent walls were covered in regular compartments with various implements of war arranged in distinct niches. Among them (besides spears, muskets, &c. and the small ensigns of their service) were the brass guns, called zomboorek, which are mounted on the backs of camels. Along the range stood soldiers in uniforms of scarlet cloth, an awkward imitation of the Russian military dress.
About thirty paces from the principal gate Sir Harford dismounted, and followed by us all, whilst the trumpet of the troop sounded the salute, advanced through the portico. Here the Ish Agassi, or Master of the Ceremonies, Bairam Ali Khan Cadjar, who had been seated in a small place opposite the entrance, rose at our approach to meet us. He then called for his staff of office, (a black cane with a carved pummel) and placing himself at the head of the party, led us through rather a mean passage into a spacious court, at the extremity of which appeared the Prince. He was seated in a kind of open room, the front of which was supported by two pillars elegantly gilded and painted. This is called the Dewan Khonéh, or Chamber of Audience.
In the centre of the court is an avenue of lofty trees, at the sides of which are two long canals: these numerous fountains threw up a variety of little spouts of water, to the jingle of the wheels and bells of their machinery. On all sides of the court were placed in close files a number of well dressed men armed with muskets, pistols, and swords; these were the subalterns and the better sort of the soldiery in the Prince’s guard. Amongst them were here and there intermixed officers of high rank. In the centre of the avenue, and on the borders of the canal stood in long rows, respectfully silent and in postures of humility, all the chief Officers, Khans, Governors of towns and districts.
When we entered the court, the Ish Agassi stopt and made a very low obeisance towards the Prince; and Sir Harford and his Mission made an English bow, and just took off their hats. These salutations, which were made four times in as many different places of the court, were repeated as we entered the Dewan Khonéh. The Prince in all this looked at us, but did not stir a muscle: we now proceeded straight forwards until Sir Harford faced the Prince, where he was then directed to sit, and we all took our stations in order. When we were seated, the Prince said in a loud voice, “Khosh Amedeed,” that is, “you are welcome;” which was repeated by Nasr Oallah Khan his Minister, who stood at about five paces from him in an attitude of respect. Sir Harford made the compliments required, when the Prince desired us to sit at our ease. We however, as in a former instance, chose to be respectful and uncomfortable, and to continue in the fashion of Persia.
The Prince then added a variety of flattering things, talked of the friendship of the two nations, said how anxious his Father was to see the Embassador, and advised him to proceed to his court without delay. We had kaleoons, then coffee, and then (a compliment not repeated to a common guest) another kaleoon. After this was over, we got up, and making an obeisance, quitted the Prince’s presence with every precaution not to turn our backs as we departed. The same number of bows, repeated in the same places as on our entrance, closed the audience.