In the Land of the Lion and Sun, or Modern Persia: Being Experiences of Life in Persia From 1866 to 1881
9781465684288
213 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
I think that there is no more painful position than that of the young medical man. I had “passed,” and had got my qualifications. An assistant I did not wish to be, and I therefore consulted the advertisement columns of the Lancet, and was prepared to go anywhere, if I might see the world, and have what Americans call a good time. At my first attempt I came on an advertisement of three appointments, under the Indian Government, in Persia; the address was the Adelphi. Off I started for the Adelphi, which I had always looked on as a neighbourhood full of mystery, and whose inhabitants were to be mistrusted. Timeo Danaos. A first floor—this looked well. I knocked, was told to enter. Two gentlemen, kneeling on the floor, looked at me in a disturbed manner. The whole room is strewn with sheets of written foolscap, and it appears that I have arrived inopportunely, as official documents are being sorted. I am asked to take a seat, having stated to the elder of the two that I am come to see the director on business. Now I couldn’t at that time fancy a director who knelt—in fact, my only idea of one was the typical director of the novel, a stout, bechained man—and my astonishment was great at being quietly informed by one of the gentlemen that he was Colonel G⸺, and should be glad to hear anything I had to communicate. I stated my wish to obtain such an appointment as was advertised; the duties, pay, &c., were pointed out, and I came to the conclusion that it would suit me as a “pastime” till the happy day when I should have a brass plate of my own. But if my ideas of a director were lofty, my ideas of a colonel were loftier; and I said to myself, one who combines these two functions, and can be polite to a humble doctor—must be an impostor. I was asked for my credentials. I gave them, and was told to call in the morning, but distrust had taken hold of me; I got an ‘Army List,’ and, not finding my chief that was to be’s name in it, I, forgetting that we had then an Indian as well as an English army, came to the conclusion that he must be an impostor, and that I should be asked for a deposit in the morning, which was, I believed, the general way of obtaining money from the unwary. With, I fear, a certain amount of truculent defiance, I presented myself at the appointed hour, and was told that my references were satisfactory, that a contract would be drawn up that I should have to sign, and that I should be ready to start in a fortnight; but, rather to my astonishment, no mention was made of a deposit. “I think there is nothing more,” said Colonel G⸺. This, I concluded, indicated the termination of the interview; and, after considerable humming and hawing, I came to the point, and blurted out that, after searching the ‘Army List,’ I couldn’t find any Colonel G⸺, and that no one had ever heard of the Telegraph Department in Persia. Instead of being annoyed, the Colonel merely asked if I knew any one at the War Office. As it happened I did. “Well, go to him, and he will tell you all about it.” Off I went to the War Office, found my friend, and, to his horror, told him that I wanted to know if the Persian Telegraph Department existed or not, and if the director was or was not a myth. He easily satisfied me, and I felt that I had been stupidly suspicious. I then announced to my friends and relatives my probably immediate departure for Persia. Strange to say, they declined to see it in any other light than a peculiarly elaborate and stupid joke. Instead of congratulations, I was treated as an unamiable and tiring lunatic, and from none of my friends was I able to get any information as to Persia. One man had a son in Baghdad! but it was no good his writing him, as it took six months to get an answer.
