"بلاد فارس والشأن الفارسي من إعداد السيد المحترم جورج ناثانييل كورزون، عضو البرلمان." [‎٣‎٢‎٤] (٧١٤/٣٦٩)

324 PERSIA
in different corners. Officers in every variety of uniform were
marshalling troops in every variety of disorder. Mirzas (i.e.
government clerks) and accountants were hurrying to the scene of
action. The royal executioner, clothed in red, was stalking about,
while some attendants carried the felleh, a red pole about eight feet
in length with a double loop or noose of cord attached to the
middle, into which are fixed the upturned soles of the culprit
condemned to the bastinado. He was the Persian counterpart of
the roman lictor with his axe and rods. The members of the
Royal or Kajar tribe were all congregated together, and wore the
old court costume, which was obligatory on all alike at the begin
ning of the century, and which consists of a lofty and voluminous
Kashmir (more probably Kerman) turban, big, flowing Kashmir
cloaks, and the well-known red leggings, or chakshurs, which the
English ministers and plenipotentiaries were obliged to pull on
over their breeches when attending the audiences of Fath Ali Shah,
but of wearing which they were ultimately relieved by treaty.
Here I was met by the Lord Chamberlain, or master of the cere
monies, known as the Zahir-ed-Dowleh (Supporter of the Govern
ment), a young man of magnificent stature and singularly handsome
countenance, who belongs to the Kajar House, and is married to a
favourite daughter of the Shah. This gorgeous individual was
clothed in a resplendent white frock coat and trousers beneath his
Kashmir robe of state ; a jewelled sword hung at his side; a por
trait of the Shah set in diamonds depended from his neck; and he
carried a silver wand or staff of office. I was conducted to a room
next to that in which the Shah was about to appear, the uplifted
sashes of both apartments opening on to the garden, where, on the
broad, paved pathway running in front and down the central alleys
between the tanks and flower beds, were disposed in order the
various participators in the ceremonial. A little to the right of
the middle spot stood the Naib-es-Sultaneh, the third son of the
Shah and Commander-in-Chief of the army, standing at the head of
a long line of field-marshals and generals. His bosom blazed with
decorations, and was crowned by a light-blue ribbon that might
have been mistaken for that of St. Patrick. Next to him, also in
field-marshal's uniform and with a tiny sword, stood the diminutive
favourite of the Shah, whose features had become so familiar in
Europe during the royal journey of the preceding summer. Next
in order, and accentuating the ludicrous contrast, came a tottering