CHAPTER XVII.

ISPAHAN.

Cost of living—Servants—Our expenses—Price of

provisions—Bargains—Crying off—Trade credits—Merchants—Civil

suits—Bribery—Shopkeepers—Handicrafts—Damascening—Shoemakers—Other

trades—Bankers—An Ispahani’s estimate of the honesty of his

fellow-townsmen.

The cost of living in Persia is very low; and to give an insight into

the actual expense of housekeeping, I may say that on about five hundred

pounds a year I was able to live in Ispahan, keeping—

Kerans.

A cook 50 a month.

A tableman 40 ”

An assistant ditto 25 ”

A farrash 25 ”

A platewasher 20 ”

A boy 15 ”

A head groom 30 ”

A second ditto 20 ”

A woman laundress 25 ”

An assistant ditto 15 ”

----

About £10, or 265 kerans.

These servants all clothed themselves, and were not fed by me, save in

sharing the remnants of the meals.

About _fourteen pounds of tobacco_ was expended in my house, at a cost of

eight kerans, each month.

A substantial breakfast of three or four courses was served at twelve,

tea and a snack being taken on waking. And a solid meal of four courses

and a dessert was taken at eight as dinner. Tea and cakes at four,

previous to the daily ride.

The bill for messing myself, my wife, two children, and our English

nurse, together with our horse-keep for five horses, our house rent

being included, and the servants’ pay, was about thirty-five pounds a

month. Of course our English nurse’s wages were not included in this, nor

our bill for European wines and tinned provisions. These latter were,

however, quite needless, save when travelling, when it is difficult to

obtain supplies, or anything but the roughest food. I found the cost

of living[16] pretty much the same in Ispahan, Teheran, and Shiraz. At

Hamadan and Kermanshah prices used to be much less, but are now, I think,

nearly the same.

As I previously stated, no European goes himself to the bazaar. To

conclude a bargain with any Persian shopkeeper great haggling and waste

of time is required; and so high are their ideas of the wealth of the

Europeans, that it would be hopeless to attempt to deal with them

personally. Honesty cannot be expected in the Ispahani or Teherani, but

the Shirazi may be pretty fairly relied upon.

A peculiar custom is in force in Ispahan, which is possibly legal by

the religious law. A man comes to a merchant and makes a bargain. In

the morning he makes “Dubbeh,” _i. e._ repents of his bargain, calmly

stating, “Makhmūn shūd um” (“I have been deceived”). And now the bargain

is off! This is frequently done either to lower the price a little,

or, when the article is a fluctuating one, such as opium, to take

advantage of a rise or fall in the market. For this reason it is, that

all contracts have to be in writing, and generally something is paid on

account to bind the slippery Ispahani.

The difference between wholesale and retail is very great, the retailer

not taking generally a profit of less than twenty per cent. The usual

rate of interest in the bazaar is twelve per cent. per annum, _i. e._

one per cent. per mensem, simple interest. Most, in fact nearly all,

mercantile transactions are on credit, discount for cash or a cash price

being the exception. In fact, so common is credit that the price of a

thing is quoted _at so many months_. Thus, in the case of loaf-sugar, it

may be, say a toman (seven and sixpence) a maund of fourteen pounds and

four months’ credit, or, when very cheap, eighteen months’ credit. The

price would be quoted as either four or eighteen, meaning the amount of

credit allowed, the actual price being the same. Most of the wholesale

trade is done through brokers, who act as commercial travellers, and

solicit orders on commission, which they generally manage to extract from

both buyer and seller. Among the brokers a few honest men may be found,

but they are rare exceptions.

The tager, or merchant class, are generally the most bigoted and

penurious of the Persian race. Only on retiring from business do they

dare to launch out into ostentation; for the mere suspicion of wealth in

Persia exposes them to the exactions of those in power.

All disputes among merchants are settled by the mushtaheds, or teachers

of religious law. No court fees are paid openly, but heavy bribes are

often administered. Most questions are submitted by mutual consent

to arbitration, and a mejlis (council of merchants) appointed by the

disputants generally meet at the house of some mūlla, or religious

personage. These, acting as assessors, settle the matter to the

satisfaction of both parties. A definite judgment is seldom given for

either plaintiff or defendant. A compromise is nearly always suggested

and carried out. Cases of flagrant miscarriage of justice are not

frequent. When they do occur, the merchants generally decline to

resort to the court of the particular judge until he reconsiders the

unsatisfactory decision, or by petition to the capital they effect his

removal if obdurate. As _both_ sides bribe, as a matter of course the

judgments are generally fair, always specious. These bribes are termed

“rūshwah” (manure).

[Illustration: THREE SHOPS IN THE BAZAAR.

(_From a Native Drawing._)]

The bazaaz, or shopkeeper, is the class next below the merchant. He

obtains everything on credit, and has frequently no capital of his own.

As a rule he has two prices, one for cash, the other for credit. To his

credit customers he gives the worst of his merchandise, and tries to

defraud them in the weight. The cash customers, whom he is very desirous

of retaining, he treats better.

The “kossib,” or handicraftsman, is, as a rule, an honest man. Healthy

competition is kept up by the various trades being located together, but

this is merely by force of custom, and is not compulsory. Thus, all the

coppersmiths work in one bazaar, and the noise caused by their hammering

is deafening.

All of the wares made by natives are of the most solid and substantial

kind; cooking pots, always of solid copper, last for generations, and

when eventually worn out, are sold as old copper, at half the price of

new ones. The silversmiths also usually work in the same neighbourhood;

some among them are very skilful, but the coarse work required by the

villagers tends to lower the tone of the articles turned out. Thin plates

of silver hammered into patterns of raised flowers and arabesque work are

in great request as mirror frames; the sheet of silver is backed with

pitch and hammered; the effect is good. Silver articles are made which

are afterwards chiselled in high relief in patterns similar to the Scinde

work. Armlets to hold talismans (telism) are in great demand; they are

called bazū-band, and are made of gold, silver, or damascened steel,

often inlaid with gold.

The “pūlad,” or damascened steel, is beautifully veined, and much of it

is ornamented with work _à jour_ and inlaid with gold. But the almost

prohibitive prices asked for this pūlad work and the constant demand for

export render it very expensive.

The classes of shoemakers are many: the kafsh-dooz, or slipper-maker,

as we should term him, makes the coloured leather, or shagreen slippers

worn by the women; these only just reach the commencement of the heel,

and when new are very elegant. They are shod with iron heels, which is

a separate trade of itself. The orussee-dooz, or men’s shoemaker, is

another trade. The chekme-dooz, or riding-boot-maker, a third; these

boots are always made loose enough to kick off, and are practically

better for long journeys on horseback than European boots. There is also

the ghēva-dooz, who makes the ghēva or cotton shoe, by sewing together

the knitted cotton top, or “jurab”—literally sock, made by the village

women—to the sole, which is made by another trade, and formed of rags

sewn together and tipped with horn. These ghēvas are light and cool,

and very good for walking in; they are usually worn only in summer, and

on the naked foot; they are unsurpassable in the foothold their broad

soft sole gives for mountain climbing. When dirty they are whitened with

pipeclay. The price is from two kerans to five kerans for an ordinary

pair; it is possible to give a pound for an elaborate or embroidered pair.

The zangal, or leggings, are made of leather, and cover the space between

the knee and ankle; they are affected by tribesmen, grooms, and muleteers

as being cheaper than boots and as useful. They are often elaborately

ornamented with embroidered leather. They are worn with ghēvas, sandals,

or coarse shoes. The “terkesh-dooz,” or harness-maker, is the seller and

maker of leather goods, such as holsters, harness, saddlery, etc.

The attār, or apothecary, sells all the drugs in use in the country, and

most of the drysaltery, also tea.

The aleph sells grain, grass, and cut straw, also clover which is dried

in ropes, wood, and charcoal.

The bakkal, or general dealer, sells groceries, dried fruits, and all

that is sold by the oilman in England. Some of the goods sold by the

aleph, who generally only sells wholesale, are retailed by the bakkal to

the little people.

The dyer in Persia drives a roaring trade, as the cotton cloth, shirting,

or longcloth, as the case may be, is often bought and afterwards dyed.

The dyer, or rangraz, may always be known by his arms, which are stained

a deep blue, or other colour, generally blue, as indigo is most used; all

the shulwar (trousers) of the men and veils of the women, and most of

the shirts of the lower orders, being dyed fast by indigo. The Persians

dislike dyes that are not fast, as the aniline, and prefer the old ones,

such as madder and indigo.

The tailor (“khyat”) in all cases makes up the materials of his clients,

and ready-made clothing, or “slops,” are unknown. The tailor always cuts

out the coat _in presence of_ the customer. The price for making a coat

is about one toman, or two or three kerans for a day’s work by a master

tailor. The seamstress is glad to take a less figure, and goes out to

work for half a keran a day and her breakfast. All sewing is _invariably

done with silk_, which is sold by weight.

The ūtūkash, or ironer, is employed to ornamentally iron the dresses of

the lower orders that are made of coloured calico or longcloth. This he

does by ironing a pattern upon them with the edges of his iron, generally

a box-iron filled with charcoal; often, however, merely a heated rod. He

irons upon a large jar, which he holds between his knees. He also marks

the stuffs that are to be quilted for under-garments.

The shops of the potter are frequent. Pans for charcoal, jars for

the storing of grain, are made of sun-dried clay, while a variety of

burnt-clay articles are exposed for sale; cheap kalian and chibouque

heads, flower-pots of blue, green, and purple glaze, tiles, kūmrahs or

jars for wine, water, or vinegar, goglets, pans, and drinking-vessels

innumerable for holding water; these are porous, and keep it cool. This

ware is pale greenish yellow, and very fragile; the best is made at

Kashan. Other non-porous and stronger vessels are made of red clay, and

are glazed of various colours. A black clay is frequently employed, and

decorated with silvery lines; the effect of this is good.

The art of making pottery with a _reflet métallique_ is now lost in

Persia. The wall tiles now so much valued in Europe are seldom seen _in

sitû_. Clever imitations are made in Ispahan, but the art of making the

metallic (_reflet_) lustre is gone. Most of the bricks that are not

protected, by the fact of being in shrines, have been already stolen, and

fear of the consequences of detection is all that protects the rest. All

is fish that comes to the net, and the local magnates would sell the big

monolith of Yezd marble, which covers the grave of Hafiz, _for a price_.

The caravanserais in the principal towns are surrounded by hoojrahs or

offices; these are protected by an orussee or glass window or by wooden

shutters. In these hoojrahs the merchant transacts his business, and

in the inner room or umbar, which is approached by a low, heavy door

from the outer office, is his strong box and the more valuable of his

merchandise.

The banker in Persia is looked on simply as a small tradesman—in fact,

the business of the serof is despised; as being a usurer on the sly, he

cannot be a good Mussulman, to whom usury is forbidden. His office is

often merely a stall in the bazaar, at which are exposed old bracelets,

gold, silver, and copper coin, and jewels always full of flaws. His

principal profit consists in the remittance of moneys from town to town,

and the buying and selling of bills on India and London. A few bankers

have offices in the caravanserais, and are in the position of merchants,

but there are no mahogany counters, no rows of clerks; a couple of

scribes and a black slave often comprise the whole staff, but the bankers

manage to do all that is needful with this small assistance. Gold,

until recently, was seldom seen, and as everything was paid in kerans

and half-kerans, counting was very tedious—bad kerans common. The usual

way was to count a small amount, such as ten tomans in kerans, and then

weigh heaps of ten tomans each. Some of the bankers are very reliable,

and have accumulated considerable wealth. Hadji Mirza Kerim of Shiraz is

one of these, and he is one of the few instances of a banker thoroughly

respected as a good Mussulman by his fellow-townsmen, and as a good man

by Europeans and Persians. The Ispahani is so well known for trickery

that Hadji Mahommed Saduk, the Crœsus of Shiraz, a native of Ispahan, but

trading and residing in Shiraz, informed me himself “that a merchant _in

Ispahan_ to live must cheat, and to thrive must steal.”

In the land of the lion and sun, or, modern Persia · 第 17 / 36 章