28th. When we departed from Maxhood-Beggy, our weather was clear and serene. There was not a breath in the heavens, and the clouds had dispersed. As we approached Komeshah, the plain appeared more cultivated and better inhabited. Among the small forts and enclosed gardens of men, were interspersed small towers built for the convenience of the wild pigeons. These birds are greatly encouraged round the country, for their manure is considered essential to the fertility of the fields; the immense number of pigeon houses (in ruins, or still entire) on the plain about Komeshah, attest at least the prevalence of the belief, if not the truth of the fact. The distance to Komeshah is twelve miles on a bearing of N. 10 W. This place also was once large, and in the time of the Seffis well peopled. It still occupies a large tract of ground, and is walled all around. But since it was taken by the Affghans, and a great part of its inhabitants put to the sword; it has fallen hopelessly. After having crossed the bed of the stream, and the channels of an immense number of kanauts, we entered the town through a gate to the westward. We passed through streets and bazars, of which nothing but the bare walls were standing, and at length reached the best house in the place; but the only approach even to this was amid the stones and mud fragments of surrounding ruins. Travelling in our present mode, and carrying about a population of our own, we do not so much feel the misery with which a country so wretched, and towns so devastated, would inspire any one of us going through the same tract a solitary individual. The ruins themselves become animated on being peopled by our numerous party, who spread themselves all about in busy groups, and awake the solitude and silence of these wastes so long unbroken by the vivacity of their disputes, the confusion of their different works, and the vociferations of their rude songs. As soon as we entered Komeshah, all the place was in motion; the scanty population which it afforded, and which had been accumulated by that of every neighbouring village, came out to greet us, betraying indeed their own wretchedness by the poverty of their clothing, and every comfortless circumstance of their appearance. They have a manufacture of cloth in Komeshah called kaduck, a better sort of that coarse linen called kerbas, which is made in every village.
The Envoy, according to the common custom of the country, sent a present to the Governor of the place, with this difference, indeed, that it was much larger than the rank of the party entitled him to expect. It consisted of cloth, fine chintz, &c. The Governor however, when it was brought to him, indignantly snatched one piece of chintz, and told the bearer to take the rest as unworthy of his own acceptance, in the hope that the Envoy would hasten to atone for his disrespect by doubling the gift. Sir Harford, with great indifference, desired the servant to keep what he had received, and congratulated him on his good luck. In vain did the Governor entreat to have the original gift restored, in vain did the Mehmandar mediate, the Envoy was inflexible, and the Governor, to the laugh of every one, remained with his single piece.
29th. At a mile and a half from Komeshah, on the left, is the tomb of Shah Reza, and near it an extensive burying ground; over one of the tombs is the remains of a lion in stone: whatever it may mean, it is certain that it dates from the remotest antiquity, being evidently prior to the Arabian conquests, and to the establishment of the Mahomedan religion in Persia. The ruined forts, the towers for pigeons, and other signs of habitation and cultivation which are seen on the plain to the Northward of the town, prove that Komeshah has shared the prosperity of the better days of Persia. Our weather continued most delightful, nor did I indeed recollect to have ever seen an atmosphere so lucid and so soft. The mountains to the Northward, which shewed their distant summits over the ridges of the nearer hills, although crowned with snow did not seem to have been so overwhelmed, as those which we had passed to the Southward.
30th. Our road to Mayar was distant fourteen miles; the village is situated at the foot of the mountains bearing N. from Komeshah, a point which we ascertained by setting the high hill over that place. At Mayar is a fine caravanserai built by the mother of Shah Abbas. It is a very extensive building, consisting of one front court, on the right and left of which, under lofty arches, are rooms and stables for the convenience of travellers. The front of the principal gate is inlaid with green lacquered tiles and neat cut bricks. It opens into the large square, in the centre of which is a platform of the same shape. On the right of the exterior front, is the cistern, over the orifice of which is thrown a platform with a pillar at each corner. The general structure is of brick, except some of the better rooms, in which a fine blue stone is used. The whole is falling rapidly into decay as a caravanserai, and has now indeed been converted into one of the common forts of the country by raising mud walls around and turrets at proper intervals: a miserable contrast to the elegant and substantial workmanship of former times.
Our camp was usually quiet, but in our later progress it was disturbed by the quarrels of our own servants (who were mostly from Farsistan) and those of the Mehmandar (who were natives of Irak). The rivality and hatred, which exist between the people of the two neighbouring provinces, can be conceived by those only who have witnessed their effects. They are much greater than between Christian and Mahomedan, or Sheyah and Sunni. The two parties frequently come to blows, which would have closed the dispute to which I allude, if we had not interfered; and if the Mehmandar had not exerted his best influence and authority by administering the stick plentifully to all the offending parties.
31st. We called it twenty miles from Mayar to Ispahanek. We reached the extremity of the plains of Mayar, and then wound through the mountains for about two hours, till we came into the plains of Ispahan. Our road bore, on an average, North. The Envoy was unwell, and rode in the takht-e-ravan, a species of litter which is suspended by shafts on the backs of mules, one before and one behind. This conveyance, when the mules keep an even pace, is not unpleasant, but when the animals break into a trot, becomes very disagreeable. On entering the plain, we started a flock of antelopes.
CHAP. IX.
ISPAHAN.
RUINS ON THE PLAIN OF ISPAHAN—THE ZAIANDE-ROOD—RECEPTION OF THE ENVOY BY THE PEOPLE; THE MERCHANTS; THE ARMENIAN CLERGY; THE GOVERNOR—ENTRANCE INTO THE CITY—BRIDGE—CHAHAR BAGH—PAVILIONS—COLLEGE—PALACES OF THE KING; CHEHEL SITOON; PAINTINGS—HAREM—GATE—GENERAL VIEW OF ISPAHAN—MAIDAN—PAVILION OF THE CLOCK—POPULATION—ENTERTAINMENT GIVEN TO THE ENVOY BY THE GOVERNOR.
The great number of buildings, which stud every part of the plain of Ispahan, might lead the traveller to suppose that he was entering a district of immense population. Yet almost the whole view consists of the ruins of towns, and here and there only are spots which are enlivened by the communities of men. But whatever may be the condition of modern Persia, its former state, if the remains scattered over the whole country are sufficient evidences, must have been flourishing and highly peopled.