The Desecrating Hand Of
The British Tourist Had, However, Left Its Mark In The Shape Of The
Name "J. Isaacson" Cut Deep Into One Of The Slabs, Considerably
Marring Its Beauty.
It is not my intention to write a description of the ruins that now
mark the spot where once stood the capital of the Persian Empire.
To
say nothing of its having been so graphically portrayed by far more
competent hands, my visit was of such short duration that I carried
away but faint recollections of the famous city. The fact that it
had been persistently crammed down my throat, upon every available
occasion, ever since I landed in Persia, may have had something to do
with the feeling of disappointment which I experienced on first sight
of the ruins. It may be that, like many other things, they grow upon
one. If so, the loss was mine. I cannot, however, help thinking that
to any but a student of archaeology, Persepolis lacks interest. The
Pyramids, Pompeii, the ancient buildings of Rome and Greece, are
picturesque; Persepolis is not. I noticed, however, that here, as at
Poozeh, the British tourist had been busy with chisel and hammer, and,
I am ashamed to add, some of the names I read are as well known in
England as that of the Prince of Wales.
On the 18th of February, just before midnight, we rode into Shiraz.
The approach to the city lying before us, white and still in the
moonlight, through cypress-groves and sweet-smelling gardens, gave me
a favourable impression, which a daylight inspection only served to
increase. Shiraz is the pleasantest reminiscence I retain of the ride
through Persia.
[Footnote A: Small copper money.]
CHAPTER VIII.
SHIRAZ - BUSHIRE.
"The gardens of pleasure where reddens the rose,
And the scent of the cedar is faint on the air."
OWEN MEREDITH.
Shiraz stands in a plain twenty-five miles long by twelve broad,
surrounded by steep and bare limestone mountains. The latter alone
recall the desert waste beyond; for the Plain of Shiraz is fertile,
well cultivated, and dotted over with prosperous-looking villages
and gardens. Scarcely a foot of ground is wasted by the industrious
inhabitants of this happy valley, save round the shores of the
Denia-el-Memek, a huge salt lake some miles distant, where the
sun-baked, briny soil renders cultivation of any kind impossible.
Were it not for its surroundings - the green and smiling plains
of wheat, barley, and Indian corn; the clusters of pretty sunlit
villages; the long cypress-avenues; and last, but not least, the quiet
shady gardens, with rose and jasmine bowers, and marble fountains
which have been famous from time immemorial - Shiraz would not be what
it now is, the most picturesque city in Persia.
Although over four miles in circumference, the city itself has a
squalid, shabby appearance, not improved by the dilapidated ramparts
of dried mud which surround it. Founded A.D. 695, Shiraz reached its
zenith under Kerim Khan in the middle of the eighteenth century, since
when it has slowly but steadily declined to its present condition.
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