The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 120, October, 1867: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and PoliticsVarious
General
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 120, October, 1867: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
As the Envoy and his suite dismounted, noon was struck by alternate strokes
on a great bell and a great drum, mounted on a square tower within the gate
called "Ywé-dau-yoo-Taga," or the Royal Gate of the Chosen, because it is
guarded by picked troops. By this gate they entered; but first the Envoy
took the Governor-General's letter from the Secretary, and carried it
himself. The Nan-ma-dau-Phra Woon and his august colleagues now threw off
their shoes, and the Woondouk strove ineffectually to induce the
representative of Great Britain to follow their loyal example. At four
different points, as they advanced to the inner gate, they even dropped on
their knees, and _shikhoed_, with their faces in the dust, toward the
palace; and again Burmah pressed Bull to take part in the pious services,
but the obstinate infidel _Kalá_[4] would not; for you see the world has
moved, and Anglo-Saxon backbones have stiffened, since Fleetwood wrote, in
1695: "As the palace gates were opened we fell down upon our knees, and
made three bows (_shikhos_), which done, we entered the garden, the
presents following; and having gone about half-way from the gate to the
place where the king was seated, we made three bows again as before. When
we got within fifteen yards of the king, we made three bows again, and were
ordered to sit down." Between Fleetwood and Phayre are two wars, several
annexations, "a lot" of custom-houses, and "no end" of bomb-shells.
The gilded colonnade, and the many-storied spire, conspicuous from all
sides of the city; the great inner court, with its groups of tumblers,
jugglers, and dancers, performing in the corners for the entertainment of
privileged spectators; the dirty grand-staircase, where, to their lively
disgust, the distinguished strangers, Envoy and all, had to leave their
shoes; the long wings of the structure, curiously resembling the transepts
of a cathedral; the choir-like centre; the altar-like throne; the tall,
lacquered columns, picked out in red at the base, and all ablaze with
gilding;--by these the great Hall of Audience was known; and here, on a
carpet in the centre, facing the throne, the Envoy and his party seated
themselves, doubling their legs behind them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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