CHAPTER III.

--Kasvin grapes

--Persian wine

--Vineyards in Persia

--Wine manufacture

--Mount Demavend

--Afshar volcanic region

--Quicksilver and gold

--Tehran water-supply

--Village quarrels

--Vendetta

--Tehran tramways

--Bread riots

--Mint and copper coin.

The grape harvest was being gathered at Kasvin as we passed through. The

place is well known for its extensive vineyards and fine fruit-gardens.

Its golden grapes have a wide reputation, and these, with the white

species, also grown there, are in steady demand for wine manufacture,

which is carried on in the town, notwithstanding the greatly

disproportionate number of Moullas among the inhabitants. Large

quantities of the grapes are also sent to Tehran for wine purposes

there. Persia keeps up the character for strong wine which it had 600

B.C., when the Scythian invaders took to it so eagerly as to establish

the saying, 'As drunk as a Scythian.' It was said that these

hard-headed, deep-drinking, wild warriors were always thirsting for

'another skinful,' and were ever ready to declare that the last was

always the best. Eighteen hundred years later, Hafiz, the merry poet,

sang aloud the praises of Shiraz wine, which to this day bears a high

reputation in Persia, a reputation which was royally good in the

traditional bygone time long before Cyrus, when it appears to have been

highly appreciated in the festivities of Glorious Jamshed, the founder

of Persepolis. The poet Omar Khayyam, in moralizing over the ruins of

the fallen splendour of that famous place, speaks in Fitzgerald's

'Rubaiyat':

'They say the lion and the lizard keep

The Court where Jamshed gloried and drank deep.'

The Persian poet-historian Firdausi ascribes to Jamshed the discovery of

wine in his leisure from kingly duties and scientific pursuits, for to

him is attributed the invention of many useful arts, and the

introduction of the solar year for measurement of time, the first day of

which, when the sun enters Aries, he ordered to be celebrated by a

splendid festival. It is called Nauroz, or New Year's Day, and is still

the greatest festival in Persia. This single institution of former days,

under a different religion and system of measuring time, has triumphed

over the introduction of Mohammedanism, and is observed with as much joy

and festivity now as it was by the ancient inhabitants of Persia.

According to Moulla Akbar's manuscripts, quoted in Malcolm's 'History of

Persia,' Jamshed was immoderately fond of grapes, and desired to

preserve some which were placed in a large vessel and lodged in a vault

for future use. When the vessel was opened, the grapes had fermented,

and their juice in this state was so acid that the King believed it must

be poisonous. He had some other vessels filled with the juice, and

'Poison' written upon each; these were placed in his room. It happened

that one of his favourite ladies was afflicted with nervous headaches,

the pain of which distracted her so much that she desired death, and

observing a vessel with 'Poison' written on it, she took it and

swallowed its contents. The wine, for such it had become, overpowered

the lady, who fell down in a sound sleep, and awoke much refreshed.

Delighted with the remedy, she repeated the doses so often that the

King's 'poison' was all drunk. He soon discovered this, and forced the

lady to confess what she had done. A quantity of wine was then made, and

Jamshed and all his Court drank of the new beverage, which, from the

circumstance that led to its discovery, is to this day known in Persia

as _zahr-i-khûsh_, or the pleasing poison. After that the manufacture of

wine became a regular industry, and spread from Shiraz, where it

originated. At the present time the process of manufacture is similar to

what it was then, in that the grape-juice is collected in large

Ali-Baba-like jars and buried in the ground. Alexander the Great is said

to have followed the festive example of his royal predecessor, and to

have drunk deep in the majestic halls of Persepolis. It has been

supposed by some that he caused the splendid palaces there to be set on

fire in a drunken freak.

As a pendant to the story of a lady's discovery, in the time of Jamshed,

of wine as an efficacious cure for nervous headache, another is told

which ascribes to a lady the withdrawal of a royal decree against the

sale and use of wine. The Shah Hussein, on his accession to the throne

in 1694, displayed his religious zeal by forbidding the sale of wine,

and he ordered the destruction of all the stock of it that was in the

royal cellars at Ispahan. But his grandmother, by feigning herself ill,

and wholly dependent upon wine for cure, not only prevailed upon him to

revoke the decree, but also persuaded him to drink some in pure regard

to herself, with the result that he fell away from priestly influence

and became a tippler. Unfortunately for the nation, this grandmother's

guidance led Shah Hussein to ruin by wine and women, and dragged him

down to the deep degradation of surrendering Persia to the cruel tyranny

of the Afghan occupation.

Wood being scarce in Persia, and poles, stakes, and sticks for upright

and lateral support not being easily procurable, the mode of culture of

the vine has come to be by planting in deep broad trenches, with high

sloping banks, up and over which the stems and branches run and fall.

The trenches are made to lie so as to allow of the bank-slopes having

the best exposure. This is the system followed on the flat, but in hilly

ground, by means of careful trimming and the assistance of piled stones,

the plants are made to develop strong standard stems, with bunchy,

bushy tops. I was particularly struck a few years ago with the neat,

well-tended vineyards at the village of Imâm-Zadeh-Ismail, in the hills

about forty miles north-west of Persepolis. Almost the whole of the

village lands were laid out in vineyards, well walled and beautifully

kept. The vines looked as if they were tended by those who understood

their culture well, and they appeared to thrive wonderfully on the light

soil of the place. Surprising energy had been shown in clearing the

ground, which was naturally stony; and there was abundant evidence of

much patient labour in the garden-like enclosures. Vineyards occupied

all the flat ground on which the village stood, and they extended up the

slopes. Hillside clearing was going on all around for further planting

of vines, which were seen to flourish there. Raisins are largely made

there, and I was told by my Kashkai conductor (for I was well off the

beaten track and required a guide), who seemed to know what he was

talking about, that the fresh grapes were used for wine, but not in the

village. The religious character of the chief inhabitants of the

village, who are sheikhs, and guardians of the Holy Shrine of the

mausoleum of the Imam-Zadeh-Ismail, which lies within its limits,

prevents the preparation there of the forbidden fermented juice of the

grape. The shrine is endowed with the village lands rent free, and all

these lands are devoted to vine cultivation. The vineyards at Shiraz

have been greatly extended of late years, and particular attention is

now paid to the cultivation of the Kholar grape, as the best suited for

wine. This grape takes its name from the village of Kholar, which is

within a few miles of the town. Tabriz, Hamadan, Isfahan, and Shiraz

produce the best wine in Persia. Red and white are made at all these

places; the white wine of Hamadan is a sort of strong sauterne, and some

of it has quite a delicate flavour; Isfahan produces a wine of a port

character, and the best shiraz is sometimes like new madeira. All these

wines resemble in strength those that are now made in Australia.

Something is wanting in the mode of manufacture to make the wine capable

of improvement with keeping, and also of bearing transport. The advent

of the Russian road will probably lead to the development of Kasvin's

large area of fruitful vines, and the success which has attended

vineyard industry at Derbend, on the Caspian, may encourage similar

enterprise there.

As neither law nor custom forbids the manufacture of wine by

non-Mohammedans, the cultivation of the grape spreads, and the making of

wine increases. From this it may be inferred, as there is little export

of wine from Persia, that all the produce is not consumed by

non-Mohammedans. As a matter of fact, the religious law which forbids

wine to Mohammedans is not rigidly observed; in truth, they are not all

total abstainers, and the delightful poison, as chronicled by Moulla

Akbar, is known to be a convenient remedy for all manner of moods, ills,

and complaints, nervous, imaginary, and real. They have been described

as drinking well when they do break the religious law, for they have a

saying that 'there is as much sin in a glass as in a flagon.' The

Persians have never thoroughly accommodated themselves to the creed of

their Semitic conquerors; they show profound respect for the externals

of Mohammedanism, and are sincere in their practice of piety and the

obligations of religion and charity; but they have always indulged in

the fancies and ideas of the great school of free-thinking philosopher

Sofis, whose observance of the ordinances of severe and joyless life is

notedly lax.

The weather was lovely as we journeyed over the Kasvin plain to Tehran,

towards the end of September. Autumn in the North of Persia is a

gloriously fine season, almost spring-like in many ways, and, indeed, it

is called there the 'second spring.' The landscape then, though nearly

barren of verdure, has a beauty of its own in warm soft colours, and the

atmospheric effects on the hills and distances, evening and morning, are

of wonderfully delicate tones and tints. The prominent feature in the

landscape near Tehran is the grand cone-shaped Mount Demavend, about

forty miles to the north-east, which shoots up 19,400 feet above

ocean-level, and overtops all the surrounding heights by 6,000 feet or

more. It stood out bold, cold, and clear against the blue sky, and

looked beautifully white with a fresh covering of new snow, and it was

more than usually distinct, from being clear of the cloud-crown it

usually wears. In the evening the massive peak presented a splendid

appearance, looking as in a white heat from the shine of the setting

sun, which, though lost to view below the horizon, yet lighted up the

old volcano.

Demavend has long been asleep, but the great earthquakes of 1891, 1893

and 1895 in Astrabad and Kuchan to the eastward, and Khalkhal in the

north-west, show that its underground fires are still alight. The scene

of the last is about one hundred miles north-east of the old volcanic

region of Afshar, remarkable for its remains of vast 'cinter' cones,

formed by the flowing geysers of long, long ago, and which were

shattered and scattered by some mighty explosion, when the great geysers

boiled up and burst their walls. Here is seen the Takht-i-Sulimân, a

ruined fort of very ancient date, which local tradition describes as one

of King Solomon's royal residences, shared by his Queen, Belghéiz (of

Sheba), whose summer throne is also shown on a mountain height above.

This ruin incloses a flowing geyser of tepid sea-green water, about 170

feet deep, the temperature of which was 66° when I visited the place in

1892. Near it is the Zindân-i-Sulimân (Solomon's Dungeon), an extinct

geyser, 350 feet deep. It shows as a massive 'cinter' cone, 440 feet

high, standing prominently up in the plain. This district was visited

and fully described by the late Sir Henry Rawlinson, and a further

account of it has been given by Mr. Theodore Bent, who, with Mrs. Bent,

went there in 1889.

The volcanic district of Afshar has long been known for its quicksilver,

which from time to time has been found in small quantities. Some seven

or eight hundred years ago Arab miners laboured long in their search for

the main cinnabar vein which undoubtedly lies hidden there, and their

wide workings in laying open a whole hillside, where signs of cinnabar

are still seen, show what great gangs of labourers they must have had at

their command. The Persian Mines Corporation in 1891-92 engaged in

operations at the same point, but, after considerable sinking of shafts

and driving of galleries into the heart of the hill, they decided to

cease work, being disappointed, like their Arab predecessors, in not

finding quickly what they had traced by clear signs up to its mountain

source. A few miles below the site of these cinnabar-mine operations

there are ancient gold-washing workings, and within thirty miles are

heavy veins of quartz.

Tehran displays a marked advance in many of the resources of

civilization; houses of an improved style are springing up, the roadways

are better attended to, and there is a great increase in the number of

carriages. The Prime Minister's new house, near the British Legation, is

situated in beautiful gardens, set off with pretty lakelets and terraced

grounds, which give slopes for flowing waterfalls. These gardens, in

common with all in the town, are tenanted every year by nightingales of

sweet song. It is now proposed to enclose an adjoining available space

to form a people's park, which would be a great place of enjoyment in

summer to a people of poetic imagination like the Persians, who delight

in the green glade with the cool sound of flowing water. The severe

cholera epidemic of 1892 showed the absolute necessity of an improvement

in the rude sanitary system which then existed, and a beginning has been

made in the daily careful cleaning of the streets and removal of refuse.

But a better and increased water-supply is greatly needed for the town,

which is becoming larger every year. People who have money to spend

appear to be attracted more than ever to the capital. Those who before

were content with the provincial towns now build houses in Tehran. The

superior houses have garden-ground attached, and much tree-planting is

done. The demand for water increases, but the supply is not

supplemented. Years ago the utmost was made of the sources from which

water is drawn; no pains have been spared to extract every possible drop

of water from the heart of the hills within a considerable distance, and

to convey it undiminished by evaporation to the city. This is done by

underground channels called _kanats_, which are excavated with great

ingenuity and skill, and are marvels of industry. This system prevails

all over Persia, and existence as well as the fertility of the soil

mainly depends on the water-supply thus obtained. The sandy expanse

round Yezd in the desert of South-eastern Persia has been made literally

to blossom like the rose by means of these subterranean channels, some

of which are tunnelled for a distance of thirty miles. I was there in

spring-time, and was then able to see what a wonder-worker water is in

Persia.

The pressing need of more water for Tehran has now drawn attention to

the proposals of some years ago for increasing the supply. One of these

was to divert to the south an affluent of the Upper Lar, which rises in

the Elburz range, and flows into the Caspian. It was seen that this

could be done by cutting a new channel and tunnelling from a point

sufficiently high, where the stream runs in an elevated valley between

the double ridge of the range. The work would have been similar, but

simpler, to what was completed last year in Madras, where the upper

Periyar stream was changed from a western to an eastern flow. The

execution of the Lar project would be easy, and it would not practically

affect the volume of water in the main stream, which receives many

tributaries below the proposed point of piercing the watershed. But the

Lar Valley was one of the Shah's summer retreats, and a favourite

pasture-ground for his brood mares and young stock. It is, moreover, a

popular resort of flock-owning nomads, and as the Shah's love of camp

life there led him to fear injury to the grassy plains and slopes of

his favourite highlands, the project was abandoned.

There was another scheme to construct a series of reservoirs by means of

strong barriers at the foot of the lower ravines of the Elburz range,

eight miles north of Tehran, in which to keep the winter water which

comes from the melting snow. The whole mountain-chain is covered with

snow each year from top to bottom. In April and May the snow melts, and

the precious water flows away where it is not wanted. Were this water

stored, it would be made available in the succeeding hot months. The

sloping plain between the hills and the town is capable, with

irrigation, of great fertility, and the construction of these reservoirs

would prove a veritable gold-mine.

The distribution of water is a most important part of village

administration in Persia. The work of cutting off and letting on water

with most exact observance of time-measurements is carried out by a

waterman called _mirab_ (lord of the water) whose office is hereditary,

subject, however, to the special judgment of popular opinion. The duties

demand a clear head and nimble foot, and the waterman, in hastening

from point to point, has to show all the alertness of a street

lamplighter. He has to keep a correct count of time, for water is

apportioned by the hour, and his memory for all the details of change,

sale, and transfer must be good and unchallenged. When he becomes too

old, or otherwise incapacitated for the performance of his work with the

necessary quickness, he avails himself of the assistance of a son or

someone whom he proposes with the village approval to bring up as his

successor. The old man is then to be seen going leisurely along the

water-courses which issue from the underground channels, accompanied by

his young deputy carrying the long-handled Persian spade, ready to run

and execute his orders. Disputes between village and village over

_kanat_ water-cuts form the subject of severe fights occasionally, and

the saying is that water and women are the main causes of village

quarrels in Persia.

It was a hot day in June, and having been up before daylight so as to

start at earliest dawn and avoid the mid-day heat for my whole party, we

were all in the enjoyment of afternoon sleep, when the courtyard was

invaded by a shouting mob of excited villagers, calling on me to hear

their story and bear witness to their wounds. They said they were the

tenants of the landlord whose house I was occupying, and they begged me

as his guest to make a statement of their case, so that justice might be

done. There had been a dispute over an irrigation channel, and the

opposing side having mustered strong, they were overpowered by numbers

and badly beaten. Some of the hurts they had received were ugly to look

at, having been inflicted with the long-handled Persian spade, the

foot-flanges of which make it a dangerous weapon. After a patient

hearing, and getting some plaster and simple dressing for their cuts and

bruises, they went away satisfied. So much for water as a cause of

quarrel, but an instance of the other cause, woman, which had come under

my notice shortly before, was more seriously characteristic. It occurred

at Shamsabad, on the border of the Aberkoh Desert, between Yezd and

Shiraz. I halted there after the long night journey across the desert,

and immediately I was settled in my village quarters, the master of the

house in which I lodged asked me to look at the gunshot wounds of one

of his young men, and to prescribe and provide in any way I could

towards healing them. I asked if any bones were broken, saying that I

could do little or nothing in such a case. I was told that they were but

flesh wounds, and on the young man coming in, I was shown a ragged long

cut between the lower ribs, and a deepish wound in the fleshy part of

the leg, which had evidently been made by slugs or buckshot. I

prescribed careful cleansing, and the use of lint and lotion, and I gave

a supply of the necessary material. I asked how the thing had happened,

and the young fellow told me that he and his brother had been

treacherously attacked at a water-mill, whilst having the family grain

ground, by some Aberkoh youths, between whose family and his there was a

longstanding blood-feud; that they both had been shot at close quarters,

and his brother had died of his wounds two days before.

The master of the house, who was also headman of the village, explained

that the blood-feud had been carried on for five generations, and had

originated in a 'little maid' who, being betrothed in their village, had

eloped with a young man of Aberkoh. The disappointed bridegroom had

afterwards taken his successful rival's life, and the deadly demand of a

life for a life had, in accordance with the law of revenge, been made

and exacted for the past five generations. He said the elders had hoped

the quarrel was nearly dead, as there had been long peace between the

parties, but suddenly the hot blood of youth had risen to renew it, and

now there was fear of further murder. In that remote district the

ancient first principles of natural justice had still strong hold upon

the people, and formed, in the absence of established law, the defence

of families and communities.

The knowledge that a man is considered disgraced who allows the blood of

his father or brother to pass unrevenged makes many a murderer in

thought pause, and depart from the deed. Accordingly, in those lawless

parts, as a rule, order reigns, and disputes and differences are

discussed by the village 'gray-beards,' who generally are able to

arrange a compromise. But in the reckless rage of a lost love the deed

is done, which carries its fatal consequences to future generations, as

in the case I have mentioned. I told the old village headman, who was

really the local judge, that in some of the wild parts of Firanghistan

there were similar occurrences, and that the best form of reconciliation

in the present instance would be 'wife for wife,' the first offending

family giving a girl-love to a husband-lover on the other side, and thus

finally closing the quarrel in the happiest manner. I said that under

such circumstances intermarriages were generally the best means of

improving friendship and terminating feuds between families.

The Tehran street tramways continue to work, though the profit return is

small. The company began with graduated fares, but I heard they were

considering a minimum general charge, which it was thought would

encourage more traffic, especially in the visits of women to one

another, as their outdoor dress is unsuited to walking in comfort. The

tramway cars have separate compartments for women. The travelling pace

is necessarily slow, in order to avoid hurt or harm to people and

animals in the crowded thoroughfares. In the East, accidents at the

hands of Europeans or their employés are not readily understood or

easily accepted as such. The Tehran Tramways Company has had its trials

in this respect. At one time it was the heavy hurt of a boy, son of a

Syud, one of the 'pure lineage', a descendant of the family of the

Prophet, on which the populace, roused by the lashing lamentations of

the father, damaged the car and tore up the line. On another occasion a

man, in obstinate disregard of warning, tried to enter at the front, and

was thrown under the wheels. Again the excitable bystanders were worked

up to fury and violence, and the Governor of the town gave judgment

against the company for 'blood-money'. The counter-claim for damage done

to the line enabled a compromise to be effected. Oriental indifference

is the chief cause of the accidents. 'It is impossible but that offences

will come, but woe unto him through whom they come.' For 'offences', the

Oriental reading is 'accidents'.

In all large Persian towns there is a numerous class of 'roughs' known

as the _kullah-numdah_ (felt-caps; they wear a brown hard-felt low hat

without a brim), excitable and reckless, and always ready for

disturbance. They are the 'casuals', who live from hand to mouth, those

to whom an appeal can be made by the careful working class when the

price of bread is run up to famine figure, owing to the 'cornering' of

wheat, which of late years has been much practised in Persia. The baker

used to be the first victim of popular fury in a bread riot, and it is

said that one was baked alive in his own oven. But in these times of

grain speculation in Persia, the people have learnt to look in 'wheat

corners' for the real cause of dear bread, and in consequence the bread

riots have become more formidable, as was proved lately at Tabriz. On a

previous occasion the Vali Ahd (now H.I.M. the Shah), who, as

Governor-General of Azerbaijan, resided at Tabriz, found himself unable

to cope with the difficulty, and abandoned his projected visit to

Tehran, so as to apply the money he had provided for it to cheapening

bread for the people. This practical pocket-sympathy with them secured a

popularity which will bring its reward.

Next to the 'wheat-ring' as a cause of disturbance and riot comes what

may be called the 'copper-ring' of Tehran, which is likely to produce

serious trouble throughout the country. The Royal Mint in Persia is

worked on the farming system, the evils of which have now extended to

the currency. The low price of copper allows of it being coined at an

enormous profit, and advantage has been taken of this to a dangerous

extent. The whole country is now poisoned with 'black money,' as the

coppers are called, and it is at a heavy discount. This bears cruelly on

the labouring classes and all who are paid in copper coin. Owing to

exchange with Europe keeping above silver, that metal cannot be imported

and coined, so as to give a gain to the Mint-master, who has no idea of

sacrificing any of the great profit he has made on copper. No silver has

been coined since March, 1895, and this is the Mint-master's excuse for

sending out copper in great quantities, to take the place of silver.

Twenty copper shahi go to a kran (present exchange value 4-1/2d.), and

in the absence of silver employers of labour pay wholly in copper, which

for bazaar purposes is at a discount, so much so that, when a purchase

is beyond question above a kran in amount, an agreement as to payment in

silver or copper is first made, and then the bargaining begins. In a

country where money bears a high value, as proved by the fact that

accounts are still reckoned in dinars, an imaginary coin, of which one

thousand go to a silver kran and fifty to a copper shahi, the

depreciation I have mentioned is a very serious affair, for it touches

the mass of the people sorely. When travelling off the beaten track in

Persia, I have always been amused and interested in hearing my

head-servant announce loudly in a tone of importance and satisfaction to

my village host for the night that I had ordered so many 'thousands' to

be given for house-room, fuel, barley, straw, etc. The kran was never

mentioned; it was always a 'thousand.'[A]

[Footnote: A: Since the above was written, information has been received

that the late Shah, about three weeks before his death, promulgated a

decree directing the Mint coinage of copper to be suspended for a term

of five years, and intimating that the Customs, Post-office and

Telegraph departments would accept copper coin to a certain amount in

cash transactions, at a fixed rate. And, further, arrangements have been

made with the Imperial Bank of Persia to purchase, on account of the

Government, copper coin up to a certain sum, from small _bona-fide_

holders who are in possession of it in the regular course of retail

business for the necessaries of life.]

Persia Revisited · 第 3 / 8 章