doorways of my loft, grieving that the journey is just over, and that
this is the last night of the exhilarating freedom of the desert. I
rode twenty-four miles before one o'clock to-day, over a level
uncultivated plain, bordered as usual by ranges of mountains. In fact,
while I write of levels and plains it must be understood that Persia
is chiefly a land of hills rising from a table-land from 3400 feet to
6000 feet in altitude, and that the traveller is rarely, if ever, more
than fourteen or fifteen miles from mountains from 2000 to 6000 feet
above the plain from which they rise, crowned by Demavend, whose
imposing summit is 18,600 feet above the sea. The hills beyond Isfahan
have assumed lofty proportions, and some of the snowy mountains of
Luristan are to be seen in the far distance.
It is nearly an unmitigated waste between Murcheh Khurt and Gez,
destitute even of tufts of wormwood; but the latter part of the march
is through a stoneless alluvial desert of dry friable soil, soft
springy galloping ground which water would turn into a paradise of
fertility; and water there has once been, for not far from the road
are the remains of some _kanaats_.
The questions naturally arise in a traveller's mind, first, what
becomes of the enormous amount of snow which falls on the mountains;
and next, how in a country so arid as the plateaus of Central Asia
water for irrigation, and for the basins and fountains which abound in
rich men's houses, is obtained.
Wells, unless the artesian borings shortly to be begun in the Tihran
desert should be successful, are all but unknown, except for supplying
drinking water, and there are scarcely any reservoirs, but ingenuity
has devised a plan of subterranean water-channels, which besides their
other advantages prevent loss by evaporation. Tihran has thirty-five
of them, and the water which they distribute is naturally expensive,
as the cost of making them is great.
It is on the slope of a hill that the spring is found which is the
original source of supply; this is tapped at some depth, and its
waters are led along a tunnel about four feet high by two feet wide
lined with baked pottery where the ground is soft, and having a slight
fall to the next spring or well, which may be from twenty-five to even
sixty yards off.
As the labourers dig they draw up the earth and arrange it in a circle
round the shaft, and as they come to water they draw up the mud and
pour it on the top of the earth, where it dries and hardens, and
below, the water is conducted as a running underground stream across
great plains, its progress marked by mounds which have been compared
to ant-hills and craters, but to my thinking are more like the shafts
of disused mines.
Hundreds of these _kanaats_ are seen, ruined and dry, and are the
resort of porcupines and jackals. To construct a _kanaat_ may call a
village or series of villages into being. The letting it fall to ruin
is one cause of deserted villages. Those which are not lined require
annual repairs, which are now going on, but frequently the complete
fall of the roof destroys the fall of the water, and the tunnel
becomes irreparable.
The peasants are obliged to buy the water, for they cannot steal it,
and the making of a _kanaat_ is often a lucrative speculation. Pigeons
live in them, and many of them are full of fish, which foreigners
amuse themselves by poisoning by throwing a mixture of _cocculus
indicus_ with dough down the wells, when the poisoned but wholesome
fish rise to the surface. They usually recover when they are left in
the water. Dr. Wills describes them as having a muddy taste. The
_kanaats_ are a feature of Persia.
Ever since leaving Kum all the dry and hard parts of the road have
been covered with the industrious "road beetle," which works, like the
ant, in concert, and carries on its activities at all seasons,
removing from the road to its nest all the excreta of animals, except
in regions where even animal fuel is so exceptionally scarce that boys
with asses and ponies follow caravans for the same purpose. These
beetles hover over the road on the wing, and on alighting proceed to
roll the ball towards the nest, four or five of them standing on their
hind-legs and working it forwards, or else rolling it with their heads
close to the ground. Their instinct is wonderful, and they attract the
attention of all travellers. They are about the size of a small
walnut. Otherwise there is little of animated life to be seen on this
route.
No day has had fewer noticeable objects. Two or three _abambars_,
several caravanserais in absolute ruins, and a magnificent one in
partial ruins are its record.
Gez consists of this post-house and a decaying caravanserai. From the
roof as I write I watch the grooming of a whole row of _chapar_
horses. As each pad is removed there is a horrid revelation of wounds,
deep ulcers, sores often a foot long, and in some cases the white
vertebrae of the spine are exposed. These are the wretched animals
which often carry men from fourteen to seventeen stone who ride fifty
miles in a day. It is hard enough even with extreme carefulness to
keep the back of a horse all right on a continuous journey, but I
never before saw animals ridden in such a state. They wince pitifully
when their pads are put on again.
The desert is all around, purpling in the sunset, sweeping up to low
broken ridges, and to some higher hills in the north-west covered with
new-fallen snow. That the waste only requires water to make it
prolific is apparent, for below these walls wheat is growing
luxuriantly in some deep pits, irrigated from a dirty ditch out of
which the drinking water comes. Nothing can be got, except by sending
to a village a mile away.
Four of the men are ill, one with inflammation of the eyes, another
with an abscess, and a third, a very strong man, with something like
bilious fever, and a _charvadar_ with malarial fever. The strong man's
moans often become howls. He insists that he shall die to-night. These
two afternoons have been much taken up with making poultices and
medicines, and I shall be glad for the poor fellows to reach Isfahan
and the care of a competent doctor.
_Julfa, April 2._--I daresay this journey seems longer to you than it
did to me. It was very pleasant, and its goal is pleasant, and a most
kind welcome and the refinement of cultured English people go far to
compensate for the loss of the desert freedom and the easy stride of
the Arab horse.
I started the caravan at nine yesterday, with two men with bandaged
eyes, and other two hardly able to sit on their mules; Mahboud, who is
really more seriously ill than any of them, keeping up his pluck and
capableness to the last. The man who threatened to die at Gez was
very much better the next morning.
Soon after leaving Gez the country changes its aspect, the road
becomes very bad, and passes through nine miles of rich
cultivation--wheat, barley, opium, and vegetables growing abundantly;
orchards are numerous, villages with trees and gardens succeed each
other rapidly, water abounds, and before the gate of Isfahan is
reached, domes and minarets rising among cypresses, planes, and
poplars indicate the remains of the former capital of Persia.
Inside the shabby gateway the road to Julfa lies among rows of mean
mud houses, heaps of ruins, and shabby provision bazars; and that mile
or more of Isfahan was the one disagreeable part of the journey.
It was about the last day of the holidays, and the bazars, alleys, and
open spaces were full of men in gay attire, and companies of shrouded
women were moving along the quieter roads. It was too warm for the
sheepskin coat which had served me so well at Kum, and I had dressed
with some regard to European sensibilities. The boys began to shout "A
Feringhi woman! a Nazarene woman!" and then to call bad names; then
men began to make up fiendish laughs,[32] and the howls and outcries
gathered strength as I went on at the inevitable foot's pace, spitting
being quite common, poor Mahboud constantly turning to me a perturbed
wretched face, full of annoyance at the insults of his co-religionists,
which it would have been dangerous to resent. It was a bad half-hour.
Before passing the residence of the Amir-i-Panj (the commander of
5000) near the Julfa gate the uproar died away, and once through the
gate and in the _Chahar Bagh_ (four gardens) there was peace. A bad
road of cobble stones, with a double avenue of once magnificent
planes, some once ornamental tanks, very high walls, pierced by
storied gates, ornamented with wild designs on plaster in flaring
colours, above which a blue dome is a conspicuous object, leads to a
handsome bridge of thirty-three arches, with a broad level roadway,
and corridors for foot passengers on either side, over the Zainderud,
then came fields with springing wheat, a few houses, a narrow alley,
and two or three miles from Isfahan the gate of its Armenian suburb,
Julfa.
At once on crossing the bridge there was a change. Ruddy,
cheery-looking unveiled women in red gowns, and pure white _chadars_
completely enveloping their persons, moved freely about, and the men
wore neither the becoming turban nor the ominous scowl of Islam. In
the quaint narrow streets were churches with open vestibules, through
which pictures of the thorn-crowned Christ and of sweet-faced Madonnas
were visible; priests in black robes and women in white glided along
the narrow roads. There was the fresher, purer air of Christianity,
however debased and corrupted. In the low-browed churches divine
honours are paid to a crowned and risen Christ, and the white-robed
women have been baptized into His name. Never again will the Julfa
alleys be so peaceful and lovable as yesterday, when they offered a
haven from the howling bigots of Isfahan.
Dr. Bruce has not returned from Baghdad, but Mrs. and Miss Bruce
welcomed me very kindly, and I am already forgetting my unpleasant
reception. I. L. B.
FOOTNOTE:
[32] I can imagine now what a hellish laugh that was with which "they
laughed Him to scorn."
I was a month in Julfa, but never saw anything more of Isfahan, which
is such a fanatical city that I believe even so lately as last year
none of the ladies of the European community had visited it, except
one or two disguised as Persian women.
LETTER XII
JULFA, _April 17_.
Mr. George Curzon wrote of Julfa: "The younger Julfa is a place wholly
destitute of superficial attractions, consisting as it does of a
labyrinth of narrow alleys closed by doors and plentifully perforated
with open sewers. Life there is 'cabined, cribbed, confined' to an
intolerable degree, and it is a relief to escape from its squalid
precincts."
I dare not write thus if I would! It is now the early spring. The
"sewers" are clear rapid streams, margined by grass and dandelions,
and shaded by ash trees and pollard willows in their first flush of
green. The "narrow alleys" are scrupulously clean, and there is
neither mud nor dust. If I go up on the roof I see a cultivated oasis,
gardens prolonged indefinitely concealing the desert which lies
between them and the bold mountain ranges which surround this lofty
and breezy plain. Every breeze is laden with the delicious odour of
the bean blossom. A rapid river spanned by noble bridges hurries
through the oasis it has helped to create, and on its other side the
domes and minarets of Isfahan rise out of masses of fine trees, and
bridges and mosques, minarets and mountains, are all seen through a
most exquisite pink mist, for hundreds of standard peach trees are in
full bloom, and look where one may everything is _couleur de rose_.
I quite admit that Julfa consists of a "labyrinth of alleys." I can
never find my way about it. One alley with its shady central stream
(or "sewer"), its roughly paved paths on either side, its mud walls
pierced by low doors, is very much like another, and however lucky one
may be in "happening on" the right road, it is always a weary time
before one escapes from between mud walls into the gardens and
wheatfields, to the blossoming beans, and the exquisite wild-flowers
among the wheat.
As to the "cabined, cribbed, confined" life, I can give no testimony
from personal knowledge. All life in European settlements in the East
appears to me "cabined, cribbed, confined," and greatly devoid of
external interests. Perhaps Julfa is deficient in the latter in an
eminent degree, and in a very small foreign community people are
interested chiefly in each other's affairs, sayings, and doings. Lawn
tennis, picnics, and dinner parties are prevalent, the ordinary
etiquette of European society prevails, and in all cases of need the
residents are kind to each other both in life and death.
The European society is divided into three circles--the missionaries,
the mercantile community, and the telegraph staff. The British agent,
Mr. Aganoor, is an Armenian.[33] No Christians, Armenian or European,
live in Isfahan, and it is practically _defendu_ to European women.
This transpontine restriction undoubtedly narrows the life and
interests of Julfa. It is aggravating and tantalising to be for ever
looking at a city of 60,000 or 70,000 people, the fallen capital of
the Sufari dynasty, and never be able to enter it.
This Christian town of Julfa has a certain accessible historic
interest. Shah Abbas, justly surnamed the Great, conceived the
sagacious project of introducing among his Persian subjects at
Isfahan--then, in the latter part of the sixteenth century, a
magnificent capital--the Christian habits of trading, sagacity, and
thrift, for then as now the Armenians had commercial dealings with
China, India, and Europe, and had imported several arts into Persia.
This project he carried out in truly despotic fashion by moving almost
the whole population of Julfa on the Araxes, on the modern
Russo-Persian frontier, to the banks of the Zainderud, making over to
it the best lands in the neighbourhood of Isfahan. Many years later
the new Julfa was a place with twenty-four churches, great prosperity,
and an estimated population of 40,000. Its agriculturists were
prosperous market-gardeners for the huge city of Isfahan, and it had
likewise a great trading community, and was renowned for the making of
jewellery and watches.
It has now a dwindling population of about 3000, chiefly elderly men,
women, and girls, the young men, after receiving a good education in
the Church Mission and other schools, flying from its stagnation to
India, Java, and even Europe. The twenty-four churches are reduced to
twelve, and these with the vast cemetery in the desert at the base of
Kuh Sufi are its chief objects of interest, apart from those which are
human and living.
_April 22._--The peach blossoms have long since fallen, but perhaps I
still see Julfa _couleur de rose_, even after three weeks, so very
great is the kindness under this roof, and so fully is my time
occupied with various interests, and the preparations for a difficult
journey.
This, as you know, is the Church Mission House. Dr. Bruce has been
here for twenty years, and until lately, when the Archbishop of
Canterbury's mission to the Assyrian Christians began its work at
Urmi, near the Turkish frontier in the north-west, this was the only
English mission in the Empire. It was contemplated as a mission to the
Mohammedans, but in this respect has been an apparent failure. It is
true that much prejudice has been disarmed, and, as I have heard from
some leading Mohammedans, Dr. Bruce's zeal and good works have won
their respect. A large part of the Bible has been translated into
Persian and very widely circulated through the adjacent country by
means of colporteurs of the British and Foreign Bible Society. His
preaching of Christianity is listened to respectfully, and even with
interest, wherever he itinerates, and Moslems daily call on him, and
show much friendliness, but the results, as results are usually
estimated, are _nil_--that is, no Mohammedans openly profess
Christianity.
There is actual though not legal toleration, but Moslem children may
not attend a mission school, and a Moslem who becomes a Christian
loses his means of living, and probably his life is sacrificed to
fanaticism.
In consequence of these difficulties, and certain encouragements in
another direction, the _ostensible_ work of the mission is among
Armenians. Dr. Bruce has not been afraid of incurring the stigma of
being a proselytiser, and has a large congregation of Armenians
worshipping after the English form, ninety-four being communicants of
the Church of England. On Easter Eve there was an evening Communion,
and the great row of women kneeling at the rail in the pure white
robes which cover them from head to foot, and then moving back to
their places in the dim light, was very picturesque and beautiful.
Good works have been added one after another, till the mission is now
a very large establishment. The C.M.S. has been liberal to this, its
only Persian agency, and Dr. Bruce, having private means, has
generously expended them largely on missionary work in Julfa.
The chief features of the compounds are the church, which is both
simple and ecclesiastical in its exterior and interior, and the
library adjoining it, where Dr. Bruce works at the translation of the
Old Testament into Persian and the revision of the New, aided by a
_munshi_, and where through much of the day he is receiving Moslems,
some of whom come to inquire into Christianity, others for religious
disputations, and a third and numerous class out of mere friendliness.
The latter are generally invited into the Mission House, and are
regaled with coffee and _kalians_, in orthodox Persian fashion. Among
the latter visitors has been the Amir-i-Panj, who came to ask me to
call on his wife, accompanied by a general of cavalry, whose name I
cannot spell, and who speaks French remarkably well.
Among the other buildings are those of the Medical Mission, which
include a roomy courtyard, where the animals which carry the patients
are tethered, rooms for the doctor, a well-arranged dispensary and
consulting-room, with waiting-rooms for both sexes, and rooms above in
which serious surgical cases are received for treatment, and where at
present there are eleven patients, although just now there is no
European doctor, and they are being treated by the native assistants,
most kindly helped by Dr. Scully of the telegraph staff. This hospital
and dispensary are largely taken advantage of by Moslems, who highly
appreciate this form of Christian benevolence.
The boys' school, with 205 pupils, has been a great benefit to Julfa.
The head-master, Mr. Johannes, was educated in England and was
formerly a master of the Nassik School in India. This school provides
the education of one of our best middle-class schools, and the
teaching is thorough. _Smattering_ would be infinitely despised by
teachers and pupils. In this thorough fashion Latin, French, the first
four books of Euclid, and algebra are taught to the young men of the
upper form. The boys have a large playground, with a great tank for
bathing, and some of the equipments of a gymnasium, a vaulting pole,
parallel bars, etc.
The girls' schools, containing 100 girls, have their own courtyard,
and they need enlarging, though the process has been more than once
repeated. Mrs. Aidin, an English teacher, is at their head, and
exercises that strong influence which love and firmness give. The
girls are a mass of red, a cool red, without yellow, and when they
disperse they enliven the Julfa alleys with their carnation dresses
and pure white _chadars_. The education is solid and suitable, and
special attention is given to needlework.
Besides these there is an orphanage, begun for the benefit of those
whose parents died in the famine, in which are twenty boys. Outside
are many other works, a Bible House, from which colporteurs at
intervals proceed on journeys, a Young Men's Christian Association, or
something like it, etc. etc.
Now as to the Mission House itself, which has to accommodate Dr.,
Mrs., and Miss Bruce, Mr. Carless, a clerical missionary, and two
English lady missionaries. So much has been written lately about the
"style of living" of missionaries, their large houses, and somewhat
unnecessary comfort in general, that I am everywhere specially
interested in investigating the subject, having formed no definite
opinion on the question whether living as natives or living as
Europeans is the more likely mode of producing a salutary impression.
The Mission House here is a native building, its walls and ceilings
simply decorated with pale brown arabesques on a white ground. There
are a bedroom and parlour, with an ante-room between giving access to
both from the courtyard, a storeroom, and a kitchen. Across the court
are servants' quarters and a guest-room for natives. Above these,
reached by an outside stair, are a good room, occupied by Mr. Carless
as study and bedroom, and one small guest-room. Another stair leads to
two rooms above some of the girls' school premises, having enclosed
alcoves used as sleeping and dressing rooms. These are occupied by two
ladies. One room serves as eating-room for the whole mission party, at
present six in number, and as drawing-room and workroom. Books, a
harmonium, Persian rugs on the floor, and just enough furniture for
use constitute its "luxury."
There are two servants, both of course men, and all the ladies do some
housework. At present the only horse is the dispensary horse, a beast
of such rough and uneven paces that it is a penance to ride him. The
food is abundant, well cooked, and very simple.
The life, all round, is a very busy one. Visitors are never refused at
any hour. The long flat mud roofs from which one can see the gardens
and the hills are used for exercise, otherwise some of the party would
never have anything better than mud walls for their horizon, and life
in courtyards is rather depressing for Europeans. I have told facts,
and make no comments, and it must be remembered that both Dr. Bruce
and Miss V----, a lady of rare devotion who has lately arrived,[34] are
to a certain extent "honorary" missionaries, and have the means, if
they had the desire, of surrounding themselves with comforts.
This is about the twenty-third mission circle with which I have become
acquainted during the last eight months, and I see in nearly all the
same difficulties, many of them of a nature which we can hardly
realise at home.
Women coming to the East as missionaries are by far the greatest
sufferers, especially if they are young, for Eastern custom, which in
their position cannot be defied with advantage, limits free action and
abridges all the comforts of independence. Thus a woman cannot take a
walk or a ride or go to a house without a trusty man-servant in
attendance on her, and this is often inconvenient, so she does not go
out at all, contenting herself with a walk on the roof or in the
courtyard.
The wave of enthusiasm on which a lady leaves her own country soon
spends its force. The interest which has centred round her for weeks
or even months is left behind. The enthusiastic addresses and farewell
meetings, the journey "up the country" with its excitement and
novelties, and the cordial welcome from the mission circle to which
she is introduced, soon become things of the past. The circle, however
kind, has its own interests and work, and having provided her with a
_munshi_, necessarily goes on its own way more or less, and she is
left to face the fearful difficulties of languages with which ours has
no affinity, in a loneliness which is all the more severely felt
because she is usually, for a time at least, one nominally of a family
circle.