ISPAHAN.
Prince’s physician—Visit the Prince-Governor—Justice—The
bastinado—Its effects—The doctor’s difficulties—Carpets—Aniline
dyes—How to choose—Varieties—Nammad—Felt coats—Bad
water—Baabis—A tragedy—The prince’s view.
Almost as soon as I arrived in Julfa I received a visit from the prince’s
hakim-bashi, Mirza Abdul Wahab. This gentleman, a native of Kashan,
had received his medical education in Paris, and was an M.D. of its
University. He described his life in Ispahan as dull in the extreme, that
he was never off duty save when the Prince-Governor was asleep, and that
his anxieties on account of the vagaries of his charge were great. The
Mirza had spent seven years in France, and had married there; he had also
two native wives (his French wife afterwards came to Teheran, but soon
returned to France). He complained of the many hours he had to stand,
etiquette forbidding any other attitude in the prince’s presence. He told
me that he had to read poetry to his Royal Highness for many hours each
day.
“Not that I mind reading poetry,” said he, “but no one listens, which is
provoking in the extreme.”
I was very glad to have an acquaintance with whom I could converse, for
of course the hakim-bashi spoke French fluently. The appointment as
physician to the eldest son of the king and Governor of Ispahan is a high
employ, and the doctor hoped it would lead to better things; but he did
not like the being away from the capital. He became shortly a Khan.
He invited me to call on the prince, and told me that his Royal Highness
would receive me at half-past eight A.M. the next day, or, as he phrased
it, two hours after sunrise. I promised to be punctual, and duly
presented myself at the appointed hour.
I passed through a garden crowded with soldiers, servants, persons having
petitions to make, and the usual hangers-on of a great man and his train.
In a crowded outer room sat the Minister (or real Governor), Mahommed
Ali Khan, under whose tutelage the Zil-es-Sultan is. The prince himself,
being a mere youth, has no real power, and everything is done by Mahommed
Ali Khan. The hakim-bashi now met me, and conducted me past a sentry into
the private apartment of the prince.
I took off my goloshes at the door, keeping my hat on, and making a
salute. The doctor introduced me in a few words, and the prince, a
good-looking youth of about eighteen years, motioned me smilingly to a
chair which had been placed for me opposite him. I asked after his health
in French, but he insisted on my talking in Persian, and was much amused
at the hash I made of it. He was a fine, good-humoured youth, full of
spirits.
After the first few minutes he threw off all his air of dignity and
talked and laughed merrily, asking many questions as to the manners
of Europeans, the Queen, climate of England, etc. He then gave me his
likeness, and told me that he photographed himself, which was the case.
I was regaled with tea, and took my leave, breakfasting in the town with
the hakim-bashi at his residence.
Here I saw for the first time the administration of justice in Persia.
The doctor was given the charge of the Jews of Ispahan: the Jews had
attended in a large crowd to complain of extortions practised upon them
by the soldiers who stood sentry at his gate. These men, not content with
exacting small presents from the poor people, had insulted the wife and
daughter of one of their number and severely beaten them.
As we sat smoking the kalian at the open window, the crowd of some
hundred Jewish men and women shrieked and gesticulated; while the two
accused soldiers, who stood with the doctor’s servants, vehemently
protested their innocence. The hakim-bashi shouted, so did the accused,
so did the accusers, who wept, beat on their heads, and prepared
apparently to rend their already ragged garments.
[Illustration: THE BASTINADO.]
“Somebody must be beaten,” said the doctor, “and these Jews are
undoubtedly horribly persecuted.”
When the shouting was at its highest, the doctor called to the sergeant
of infantry and whispered in his ear. The two soldiers turned pale, and
the Jews proceeded to implore blessings on the head of the doctor.
Presently a pole some eight feet long, with a transverse handle at either
end and a loop of rope in the middle, was produced, and, kicking off
their boots, the two soldiers lay down on the ground, and each raised
a foot; but the doctor was not to be appeased so easily, and insisted
on both feet of each man going into the loop. On this being done, the
noose was tightened by turning the pole by means of the handles, and the
soles of the soldiers’ feet were now upwards, and a fair mark; two other
soldiers held the ends of the pole, which is termed a “fellek.”
The doctor now adjured the men to confess, as, if they did not, as he put
it to them, he should have to thrash them till they did, and then have
to punish them for the offence itself; whereas, if they confessed, there
would be only one beating and accounts would be clear.
Both men confessed, though the value of a confession under such
circumstances may be doubted. Then the doctor’s servants drew from his
hauz a huge bundle of sticks some five feet long; they were ordinary
willow wands, switchy, and about twice the thickness of the thumb at the
butt; the bark was left on, and it appeared that they were kept in water
to prevent their breaking too easily.
Four of the soldiers now seized each half-a-dozen wands, and, taking
one in their right hands, awaited the signal. “_Bezan!_” (“Lay on!”)
exclaimed the hakim-bashi, and they proceeded to thrash the bare soles of
their comrades with the sticks; at first they struck fair on the feet,
but whenever the doctor’s eye was not on them, they broke the stick over
the “fellek” and substituted a fresh one.
The men now roared for mercy; some hundred sticks had been broken over
their feet, and, taking an average of four blows for each stick, they had
received four hundred, or two hundred each.
“_Amān Agha!_” “Mercy, Lord!” “Oh, hakim-bashi!” “Oh, merciless Jews!”
“Oh, Mussulmans!” “Oh, doctor, sahib!” “Oh, Lord, without mercy!” “Oh,
rascal Jews!” “Sons of dog fathers!” “Mer—cy!”
The hakim-bashi now addressed them—“Rascals, do you know now that you are
not to oppress the king’s subjects?”
“Ah,” replied one man, “but _Jews_—” He had better have been silent,
for the hakim-bashi raised his hand, and the beating recommenced. I now
interceded, and the men were led off, limping.
I asked the doctor if such beatings would not lame the men.
He replied, “Not in the least; they will be all right in two days, if
a little tender to-morrow. I have myself had quite as bad a beating
from my achōn (schoolmaster) when a boy. There is no degradation in the
punishment; all are liable to it, from the Prime Minister downwards. What
you have seen is merely a warning; one and two thousand sticks are often
given—I mean to say fairly broken over the soles of the feet—and thicker
sticks than mine; say, six thousand blows.”
I asked what was the result of such beating.
“Well,” said the doctor, “I _have_ known them fatal; but it is very rare,
and only in the case of the victim being old or diseased.”
I was told that it is really very much a matter of bribing the farrashes
(carpet-spreaders) who administer the punishment. As a rule, a severe
beating, such as is given by the king’s farrashes, keeps a man in bed
for weeks or months. Culprits much prefer it to a fine. Here the doctor
called one of his servants.
“Which would you prefer,” said he, “to lose a month’s pay or take such a
beating as those soldiers had?”
“The beating, of course,” replied the man.
“His pay is ten kerans a month,” said the doctor (seven-and-sixpence).
Custom, I suppose, is everything; to _our_ tender feet such a beating
would be very terrible, but Persians of the lower class walk much
barefoot; in fact, like our own tramps, unless the road be very stony,
one sees them on the march take off their boots and go bare, to save
shoe-leather or sore feet.
The doctor told me of the trials and troubles of his position, his long
hours of duty, and his many anxieties when his young charge was ill.
“Your arrival is a great thing,” he said; “you can speak as I cannot
dare to, and you can insist on proper directions being carried out. At
present, when the prince is indisposed, all the visitors and all the old
women prescribe, and as he _tries_ all the remedies, he becomes really
ill.
“Then I have to telegraph his state to the king; then the king’s French
physician and his other hakims are ordered to suggest remedies. You
can fancy the result. Why, when I came here, the then hakim-bashi was
a young and rowdy prince, who, though a very good fellow, kept the
Prince-Governor permanently on the sick-list, gave him two china-bowls of
physic to take a day, and tabooed everything that was nice. Of course I
broke through all that, and, by keeping him free from physic and on good
plain food, he is a strong and healthy youth.” I sympathised with the
doctor, and took my leave.
From the doctor’s house I went to the principal bazaar of the town to
buy carpets, for I had disposed of most of my own on leaving Kermanshah,
to lessen the weight of my luggage. I was shown several hundred carpets,
some four by seven yards, down to little rugs a yard square. Some of the
finer carpets, astonished me by their beauty, and also their price—forty
pounds was a usual figure for a large and handsome carpet.
The finer and more valuable carpets were not new—in fact, few really
good carpets are made nowadays. At the time I am speaking of (sixteen
years ago) the magenta aniline dyes were unknown to the carpet-makers of
Persia, and all the colours except the greens were fast. Nowadays the
exact reverse is the case. A very brilliant carpet is produced, and if a
wet handkerchief is rubbed on it, _the colours come off_; these are not
fast, and the carpet is worthless.
The aniline dyes are particularly used in the Meshed carpets, and as
these are the showiest and most attractive, they are largely exported.
Of course a native will not look at them, for when he buys a carpet
he expects it to last _at least_ a century: he is generally not
disappointed. One sees many carpets which are quite fifty years old with
hardly a sign of wear.
At the time of which I am speaking, carpets had very seldom been
exported from Persia, and consequently there was no rubbish manufactured;
now (1883) it is quite different; if a very good carpet is wanted, an old
one must be bought.
The carpets made for the European market are coarse, and the weaving
loose. Many, indeed, are made of fast colours, but gaudy patterns only
are used, and the fine and original patterns formerly in vogue are
disappearing. Of a couple of hundred carpets brought for sale, perhaps
there may be only six distinct patterns, though, of course, the borders
and arrangement of the colours may vary. The favourite patterns are the
“Gul Anar” and “Herati:” the latter is certainly very effective, and is
the pattern of nine-tenths of the carpets exported.
To choose a carpet, the first thing is to see if the colours are fast.
This is done by rubbing with a wet cloth. If the slightest tinge is
communicated to this, the carpet should be rejected. Then, if the carpet
is limp, and can be doubled on itself like a cloth, it is “shul-berf”
(loosely woven) and scamped. A carpet which is well woven (I am speaking
of new ones) is always stiff. Greens in the pattern should be avoided, as
they will fade to a drab, but this drab is not unpleasing; white, on the
contrary, in time becomes a pale yellow, and is a good wearing colour,
and should be chosen rather than avoided.
The thinner and finer the carpet is, the greater is its value. The size
of the thread of the wool should be noticed, and the smaller it is the
better. It should be remembered that, in the question of price, a thinner
thread means a great difference in the amount of labour in making.
The size, too, of the pattern should be noted, as a large pattern is
proportionately much cheaper. Again, the finer patterns being only
undertaken by the best weavers, one is more likely to get a good carpet
with a fine pattern than with a coarse. The general effect, too, should
be noted. This is never bad, but at times an eccentric pattern is come
across.
The softer the carpet is to the hand, the more valuable it is as a rule,
if it be not a Meshed carpet with aniline dye. These latter should be
avoided, as they always fade, and are of very small value.
One of the reasons why Oriental carpets last so long, is that chairs
are not used, and they are not walked on by boots, and so dirtied and
worn, but by _bare_ feet. The carpet should now be doubled, and the
ends applied to each other. If one is broader than the other, it shows
careless work, and the carpet should be rejected as “kaj” (uneven, or
rather, crooked).
It must be then spread on a level floor and smoothed, to see if it lies
flat. Many carpets have “shatūr,” or creases; these never come out. The
carpet never lies flat, and wears in a patch over the “shatūr.”
If all is yet satisfactory the carpet must be turned bottom upwards, and
the _edges_ carefully examined; if any darns are seen in the edges of the
carpet it must be rejected, for the Persians have a plan of taking out
any creases by either stretching the edges, which often break under the
process, or, if there is a redundancy, _cutting_ it out and fine drawing
it so skilfully that it is only detected on _carefully_ examining the
back. Such carpets are worthless.
The top of the carpet should now be inspected; if the edging of cotton
at the top or bottom be blue with no white in it, the carpet is rubbish,
and merely a thing got up for sale, absolutely a sham. The edge or finish
should be either white cotton or black wool; the latter is by far the
best, but is seldom seen nowadays. The _all_-woollen carpets are mostly
made near Mūrghab, and by the wandering tribes of Fars; they are very
seldom exported, and are always of sad patterns, often very irregular.
In making a carpet, the women who weave it will often run out of
the _exact_ shade of wool used in some part of the pattern or even
ground-work; they will continue with _another shade_ of the same colour.
This has a curious effect to the European eye, but the native does not
look on it as a defect.
The value _in Persia_ of a carpet in the present day may, _if perfect_
(either new or old), be reckoned at from fifteen shillings to two pounds
a square yard. In the larger carpets nothing can be obtained under a
pound a square yard.
Of course there _are_ a few carpets which have been made to order for
great personages which are worth more than the price I have given,
but these are not easily obtained and only at _prix fou_. By the term
_carpet_, I mean what Persians call kali, that is, in contradistinction
to farsch. Kali is our idea of carpet, that is, a floor-covering, _having
a pile_.
Farsch means floor-covering generally, and may be “nammad,” or felt, or
“gelim,” a thin, pileless floor-covering of coarse pattern, and much used
in Europe as a _portière_; in these “gelim” white greatly predominates,
and they soon get soiled and dirty; they are only used in Persia by the
villagers and poor.
The farsch hamam-i, or bath carpet, is a finer species of gelim made
near Kermanshah; both sides are alike, the patterns are elaborate and
beautiful, and the colours very lovely, _but they fade_, being mostly
of aniline dye, and are harsh to the feel. Their only recommendation is
their extreme portability.
The nammad, or felts (carpets), are generally used by Persians to go
round the room and act as a frame to the carpet (kali), which occupies
the top and centre.
They are three in number for each room; two kanareh, or side pieces, a
yard to a yard and a half wide, and a sir-andaz, literally that which
is thrown over the head (of the apartment). The kanareh are from half
to two and a half inches in thickness, and are usually of a light-brown
or yellow-ochre colour, being ornamented with a slight pattern of blue
and white, or red and green, which is formed by pinches of coloured wool
inserted when the felt is made.
The best nammad are made at Yezd, and are often expensive; they cost
about thirty shillings a square yard, and will last a century; they are
two inches thick.
Nammad, however, are now getting out of fashion, for they will not stand
the wear produced by chairs, which are coming into common use among the
rich. Carpets are taking their place.
These nammad, or felts, are universally used as great-coats by the
peasantry, and are very good indeed as an outer covering, being seamless.
They are often made with bag-like sleeves with a slit at the wrists, thus
forming a glove, and when the peasant wants to use his hands, they are
thrust through the slit and the glove portion turned back over the wrist.
They are all in one piece.
The gelim, or tent carpets, are very suitable for travelling or rough
work, and being thin are easily dried. They wash well, and have no pile.
There is yet another variety of carpet called jejim: this is very thin
and more like a plaid in consistency; it is used by horsemen, who wrap
their spare clothing in it and use it as a bed and carpet too.
For about fifty pounds I was able to get enough carpets for all my
living rooms, and, owing to the steady rise in the price of carpets,
on my departure in nine years’ time on leave, I got as much as I gave
for them. Exactly the same as with horses after the famine, the demand
being greater than the supply on account of exportation, prices rose
considerably.
A good deal of illness occurring just at this time among the staff, I
had my attention directed to the water, which, being mostly from surface
wells, was much contaminated. I therefore engaged a water-carrier from
the town, purchased a skin and bucket for him, and the staff were
supplied with a skinful twice a day, for cooking and drinking purposes,
from the monastery well—a deep and good one.
The Persians are particular what water they drink, and invariably employ
a sakka, or water-carrier; but the Armenians generally have a cesspool
just outside their house door, and in its immediate proximity the well is
dug, often only ten feet deep. The result is obvious.
Our superintendent being a married man, collars which I had cast off for
the last year, principally because I could not get them washed, had to be
worn; and I had to send them to Teheran by post to get them washed, for
in Ispahan the art of ironing was unknown; and the American term for a
shirt, “boiled rag,” was literally appropriate.
I made the acquaintance of three brothers who were Syuds, or holy men,
but who had the reputation of being freethinkers; these men called on
me and insisted on my breakfasting with them in the town: they were
wealthy landed proprietors and merchants. I found their house beautifully
furnished and their hospitality was great; they discoursed much on the
subject of religion, and were very eloquent on the injustices perpetrated
in Persia. They were nearly related to the Imām-i-Juma, or high priest,
a very great personage indeed, who ruled the town of Ispahan by his
personal influence. It was said that any one who incurred his displeasure
always, somehow or other, lost his life.
Under the shadow of such a relation, the Syuds Hassan and Houssein and
their brother openly held their very liberal opinions. They were, in
fact, sectaries of the Baab.
This impostor has succeeded in establishing a new religion, the tenets
of which are very difficult to get at—a community of property being one.
Mahommedans state that a community of women is also observed; this is,
however, very doubtful.
The execution of their prophet, far from decreasing their numbers, has
had an opposite effect; many among the Ispahanis and Zinjanis still
secretly profess Baabiism.
A few years before my arrival in Ispahan (1867), a determined attempt was
made on the life of the present Shah by a few of the fanatics of this
sect, and the unsuccessful conspirators were put to death with horrible
tortures. (For details see Lady Shiel’s work.) In these latter days
(1880), when I was in Ispahan, a priest was denounced by his wife as a
Baabi. I saw him led to prison; he avowed his Baabiism and declined to
retract, though offered his life; he, however, denied the statements of
his wife and daughter, who accused him of wishing to prostitute them to
others of his co-religionists.
On being taken to the public square for execution, after having been
severely bastinadoed, and when in chains, knowing his last hour was come,
he was offered his life if he would curse Baab.
He replied, “Curses on you, your prince, your king, and all oppressors.
I welcome death and long for it, for I shall instantly reappear on this
earth and enjoy the delights of Paradise.” The executioner stepped
forward and cut his throat.
A few days after his execution, my friends the three brothers were
arrested, their valuables looted by the king’s son the Zil-es-Sultan,
the then Governor of Ispahan, and by the Imām-i-Juma, the successor of
their former protector in the office of high priest of Ispahan. Their
women, beaten and insulted, fled to the anderūns (harems) of friends
and relations, but were repulsed by them for fear of being compromised.
They then came to the telegraph-office in Julfa and sat in an outer room
without money or food. After a few days the relatives, rather than let
the (to them) scandal continue of the women being in the quarters of
Europeans, gave them shelter.
The real cause of the arrest of these men was not their religion; the
Imām-i-Juma owed them eighteen thousand tomans (seven thousand two
hundred pounds); they were sent for and told that if they did not forgive
the debt they would be denounced and inevitably slain. But habit had
made them bold; they declined to even remit a portion of the sum owing;
they were politely dismissed from the high priest’s presence, and a
proposition made to the prince that the whole of their property should
be confiscated by him, and that they should be accused of Baabiism and
executed. This was agreed to. They were sent for and taken from the
prince’s presence protesting their innocence, the youngest brother
cursing Baab as proof of his orthodoxy.
The next day all were savagely beaten in prison, and it was generally
given out that they would be executed; but being men of wealth and
influence, no one believed in this.
The English missionary in Julfa, the assistant superintendent of the
telegraph, and a few Armenians, addressed a letter to the prince which,
while apparently pleading their cause, really, I fear, accelerated their
fate (if it had any effect). The prince was furious, and vouchsafed no
reply.
I happened to see him professionally, and he asked me why I had not
signed this letter. I replied that I had not been asked to in the first
place; and that I should hesitate to mix myself up in the politics of the
country, being a foreign official. He appreciated my motives, and asked
if I knew the three men.
I replied that all three were my intimate friends, and I trusted that
their lives were not really in danger.
I never have been able to ascertain if his reply was merely given to
quiet me or not; it was this:—
“The matter is really out of my hands—it has been referred to the king;
he is very bitter against Baabis, as you know; nothing that sahibs in
Julfa may do will have any effect. Why, sahib, what would your Prince
of Wales say if _he_ were interviewed, and letters written to him about
confessed criminals by obscure Persians? The missionary, the missionary,
he only troubles me to make himself notorious.”
I explained that these Syuds were really personal friends of the
missionary as well as my own.
“All disaffected people are friends of missionaries, as you very well
know.”
I again asked him if they would be spared or not?
“I can tell you nothing more,” he said; “one has cursed Baab, he will not
die. As for the others the king will decide; for me, I wish personally to
kill no one; you have known me long enough to know I dislike blood. I am
not the Hissam-u-Sultaneh” (the king’s uncle, a very severe Governor).
He changed the subject and declined to return to it. I cannot tell if
the two elder brothers had been offered their lives or not. I went back
to Julfa hoping that they would all be spared. The town was in great
excitement. Next morning at dawn their throats were cut in the prison,
and their bodies flung into the square. The prince had not dared to
execute them publicly for fear of a tumult.
Their houses were looted, and part of their estates; the Imām-i-Juma’s
share of the plunder was large, and he never repaid the eighteen thousand
tomans. Such was Persia in 1880. The youngest brother, who had cursed
Baab, was spared, and afterwards reinstated in part of his family
property.