Journeys In Persia And Kurdistan ( Vol.Ii).

JOURNEYS

IN

PERSIA AND KURDISTAN

JOURNEYS

IX

PERSIA AND KURDISTAN

INCLUDING A SUMMER IN THE UPPER KARUN
REGION AND A VISIT TO THE
NESTORIAN RAYAHS

By MRS. BISHOP

(ISABELLA L. BIRD)

HONORARY FELLOW OF THE ROYAL SCOTTISH GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY
AUTHOR OF ‘ SIX MONTHS IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS ’
‘UNBEATEN TRACKS IN JAPAN,’ ETC.

IN TWO VOLUMES—VOL. II.

WITH PORTRAIT, ^APS, AND ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON

JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET
1891

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

IN VOLUME II.

Church of Mar Shalita, Koclianes .
“Stone Lion and Guide
■liarun at Pul-i-Ali-Kuh
Killa Bazuft
Fording the Karan
Sar-i - Cheshmeh-i-K uran g .

Zard Kuh Range .

Aziz Khan
Yahya Khan
A Twig Bridge

1 Tomb of Esther and Mordecai
Kurd of Sujbulak
Hesso Khan
A Syrian Family
Designs on Tombs at Koclianes
Syrian Cross
Syrian Priest and Wife
A Syrian Girl
Rock and Citadel of Van .

Kurds of Yan
A Hakkiari Kurd

372

LETTER XYI

Ali-kuh, June 12 .

Two days before we left Chigakhor fierce heat set in,
with a blue heat haze. Since then the mercury has
reached 98° in the shade. The call to “ Boot and Saddle ”
is at 3.45. Black flies, sand-flies, mosquitos, scorpions,
and venomous spiders abound. There is no hope of
change or clouds or showers until the autumn. Greenery
is fast scorching up. “ The heaven above is as brass,
and the earth beneath is as iron.” The sky is a merciless
steely blue. The earth radiates heat far on into the night.
“ Man goeth forth to his work,” not “ till the evening,”
but in the evening. The Ilyats, with their great brown
flocks, march all night. The pools are dry, and the lesser
streams have disappeared. The wheat on the rain-lands
is scorched before the ears are full, and when the stalks
are only six inches long. This is a normal Persian
summer in Lat. 32° K The only way of fighting this
heat is never to yield to it, to plod on persistently, and
never have an idle moment, but I do often long for an
Edinburgh east wind, for drifting clouds and rain, and
even for a chilly London fog! This same country is
said to be buried under seven or eight feet of snow in
winter. '

On leaving Chigakhor we crossed a low hill into the
Seligun valley, so fair and solitary a month ago, now
brown and dusty, and swarming with Ilyats and their
VOL. II B

2

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVI

flocks, and Lake Albolaki has shrunk into something
little better than a swamp. A path at a great elevation
above a stream and a short rocky ascent brought us to
the top of the pass above Naghun, a wall of rock, with
an altitude of 7320 feet, and a very stiff zigzag descent
upon Isfandyar Khan’s garden, where the heat made a
long halt necessary. The view from the Naghun Pass of
the great Ardal valley is a striking one, though not so
striking as one would suppose from the altitude of the
mountains, which, however, do not nearly reach the limit
of perpetual snow, though the Kuh-i-Kaller, the Kuh-i-
Sabz, the great mass of the Kuh-i-Gerra, the range of the
Kuli-i-Dinar, and the Kuh-i-Zirreh are all from 11,000
to 13,000 feet in height. Even on the north side the
range which we crossed by the Gardan-i-Zirreh exceeds
9000 feet. The Karun, especially where it escapes from
the Ardal valley by the great Tang-i-Ardal, is a grand
feature of the landscape from the Naghun Pass.

On leaving Naghun we were joined by Aziz Khan,
a petty chief, a retainer of Isfandyar Khan, who has
been deputed to attend on the Agha, and who may be
useful in various ways.

Between Naghun and Ardal, in an elevated ravine, a
species of aristolochia, which might well be mistaken for
a pitcher-plant, was growing abundantly, and on the
Ardal plain the “sweet sultan” and the Ferula glauca
have taken the place of the Centcmrca alatci , which is all
cut and stacked.

A hot and tedious march over the Ardal plateau, no
longer green, and eaten up by the passage of Ilyat
flocks, brought us to the village of Ardal, now deserted
and melancholy, the great ibex horns which decorate
the roof of the Ilkhani’s barrack giving it a spectral
look in its loneliness. The night was hot, and the per¬
petual passing of Ilyats, with much braying and bleating,

letter XVI TANG - 1 - DARKASH WARKASH

3

and a stampede of mules breaking my tent ropes, forbade
sleep. It was hot when we started the next morning,
still following up the Ardal valley and the Karun to
Kaj, a village on bare hummocks of gravel alongside of
the Karun, a most unpromising-looking place, but higher
up in a lateral valley there was a spring and a walled
orchard, full of luxuriant greenery, where we camped
under difficulties, for the only entrance was by a little
stream, leading to a low hole with a door of stone, such
as the Afghans use for security, and through which the
baggage could not be carried. The tents had to be
thrown over the wall. There was little peace, for num¬
bers of the Kaj men sat in rows steadily staring, and
there were crowds of people for medicine, ushered in
by the Icetchuda.

Four miles above Ardal is a most picturesque scene,
which, though I had ridden to it before, I appreciated far
more on a second visit. This is the magnificent gorge of
the Tang-i-Darkash Warkash, a gigantic gash or rift in
the great range which bounds the Ardal and Kaj valleys
on the north, and through which the river, on whose
lawn-like margin the camps were pitched at Shamsabad,
find its way to the Karun. A stone bridge of a single
arch of wide span is thrown across the stream at its exit
from the mountains. Above the bridge are great masses
of naked rock, rising into tremendous precipices above
the compressed water, with roses and vines hanging out
of their clefts.

Below, the river suddenly expands, and there is a
small village, now deserted, with orchards and wheat-
fields in the depression in which the Darkash Warkash
finds its way across the Kaj valley, a region so sheltered
from the fierce sweep of the east wind, and so desirable
in other respects, that it bears the name of Bihishtabad,
the Mansion of Heaven.

4

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVI

Geographically this tang has a great interest, for the
water passing under the bridge is the united volume of
the water system to which three out of the four districts
known as the Chahar Mahals owe their fertility, and
represents the drainage of 2500 square miles. It will
he remembered that we entered the Chahar Mahals by
the Kahva Rukh Pass, and crossed that portion of them
lying between Kahva Eukh and the Zirreh Pass, which
is politically, not geographically, a portion of the Bakh-
tiari country, and is partially Christian.

I started at five the next morning to follow the left
bank of the Karun for nearly a whole march, sometimes
riding close beside it among barley-fields, then rising to
a considerable height above it. It is occasionally much
compressed between walls of conglomerate, and boils
along furiously, but even where it is stillest and broadest,
it is always deep, full, and unfordable, bridged over,
however, at a place where there are several mills. An
ascent from it leads to the village of Rustam-i, where
the people were very courteous and put me on the road
to Ali-kuh, a village not far from the river, at the foot
of a high range very much gashed by its affluents, one
of which is very salt.

Ali-kuh is quite deserted, and every hovel door is
open. There is nothing to tempt cupidity. The people,
when they migrate to the high pastures, take all their
goods with them. There was not a creature left behind
who could tell me of a spring, and it was a tiresome
search before 1 came, high upon the hillside, on a stream
tumbling down under willows over red rock, in a maze
of campanulas and roses. The first essential of a camp¬
ing-ground is that there should be space to camp, and
this is lacking; my servants sleep in the open, and my
bed and chair are propped up by stones on the steep
slope. Scorpions, “ processional ” caterpillars, earwigs,

LETTER XVI

WILD FLOWERS

5

and flies abound. It is very pretty, but very uncomfort¬
able. The stream is noisy, and a rude flour mill above
has the power, which it has exercised, of turning it into
another channel for irrigation purposes. There are some
large Ilyat camps above, and from these and from Eustam-i
the people have been crowding in.

The wild flowers about Ali-kuh are iii great profusion
just now, the most showy being hollyhocks—white, pink,
and mauve, which affect the cultivated lands. Three
parasitic plants are also abundant, one of them being the
familiar dodder. Showy varieties of blue and white
campanulas, a pink mallow, a large blue geranium,
chicory, the blue cornflower, and the scarlet poppy all
grow among the crops.

In the course of a day’s expedition to the summit of
the Ali-kuh Pass large Ilyat camps abounded, and the
men were engaged in stacking the leaves and the
blossoming stalks of the wild celery for fodder later in
the season. These flower-stalks attain a height of over
six feet. These, and the dried leaves of the Centaurm
(data , which are laid in heaps weighted down with stones,
are relied upon by the nomads for the food of their
flocks on the way down from the summer to the winter
pastures, and much of their industry, such as it is, is spent
in securing these “ crops.”

This Ali-kuh Pass, 9500 feet in altitude, is on the most
direct route from Isfahan to the Bazuft river, but is
scarcely used except by the Ilyats. It is in fact horribly
steep on the Ali-kuh side. The great Bakhtiari ranges on
its south-west side, and a deep valley below, closed by the
great mass of Amin-i-lewa, are a contrast to the utterly
shadeless and mostly waterless regions of Persia proper
which lie eastwards, blazing and glaring in the summer
sunshine. „ There is a little snow and some ice, and the
snow patches are bordered by a small rosy primula,

6

JOUENEYS IN PEESIA

LETTER XVI

delicate white tulips, and the violet pcnguicula so common
on our moorlands. Mares with mule foals were grazing
at a height of over 9000 feet.

The Khan of Bustam-i, married to a daughter of the
Ilkliani, “ called.” He is very intelligent, has some idea
of conversation, and was very pleasant and communi¬
cative. He says the “ Bakhtiaris love fighting, and if
there’s a fight can’t help taking sides, and if they have
not guns fight with stones,” and that “ one Bakhtiari can
beat ten Persians ”! I asked him if he thought there
would be fighting at Chigakhor, and he said it was very
likely, and he and his retainers would take the Ilkani’s
side. He showed me with great pleasure a bullet wound
in his ankle, and another in his head, where a piece
of the skull had been removed. He wishes that “ the
English” would send them a doctor. “We would gladly
receive even a Kafir” he said. Mirza politely translated
this word Christian. He says they “ suffer so much in
dying from want of knowledge.” I explained to him the
virtues of some of their own medicinal herbs, and he at
once sent his servant to gather them, and having identi¬
fied them he wrote down their uses and the modes of
preparing them.

With the Khan was liis prim little son, already, at
ten years old, a bold rider and a good shot, the pale
auburn-haired boy whom his grandmother, the Tlkhani’s
principal wife, offered me as a present if I would cure
him of deafness, debility, and want of appetite! I gave
him a large bottle of a clandestinely-made decoction of
a very bitter wormwood, into which I put with much
ceremony, after the most approved fashion of a charlatan,
some tabloids of mix vomica and of permanganate of
potash. When I saw him at the fort of Chigakhor he
was not any better, but since, probably from leading a
healthier life than in Ardal, he has greatly improved, and

LETTER XVI

COMPLIMENTS TO ENGLAND

7

being strong is far less deaf, and consequently the virtues
of wormwood have forced themselves on the Khan’s
attention.

The boy had suffered various things. He had been
sewn up in raw sheepskins, his ears had been filled with
fresh clotted blood, and he had been compelled to drink
blood while warm, taken from behind the ear of a mare,
and also water which had washed off a verse of the
Koran from the inside of a bowl. It transpired that the
Khan, who is a devout Moslem and a mollah , could not
allow his son to take my medicine unless a piece of
paper with a verse of the Koran upon it were soaked in
the decoction.

I asked him why the Baklitiaris like the English, and
he replied, ' f Because they are brave and like fighting, and
like going shooting on the hills with us, and don’t cover
their faces.” He added after a pause, “ and because they
conquer all nations, and do them good after they have
conquered them.” I asked how they did them good,
and he said, “ They give them one law for rich and poor,
and they make just laws about land, and their governors
take the taxes, and no more, and if a man gets money
he can keep it. Ah,” he exclaimed earnestly, “ why
don’t the English come and take this country ? If
you don’t, Russia will, and we would rather have the
English. We’re tired of our lives. There’s no rest or
security.”

It may well be believed that there are no schools,
though some deference is paid to a mollah , which among
the Bahktiaris means only a man who can write, and
who can read the Koran. These rare accomplishments
are usually hereditary. The chiefs’ sons are taught to
read and write by mwnshis. A few of the highest Khans
send their sons to Tihran or Isfahan for education, or
they attend school while their fathers are detained as

8

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVI

hostages in the capital for the good behaviour of their
clans. There they learn a few words of French and
English, along with pure Persian and Arabic, and the few
other branches of the education of a Persian noble. They
are fine manly boys, and ride and shoot well from an early
age. But the worst of them is that they never are “ boys.”
They are little men, with the stiffness and elaboration of
manner which the more important Khans have copied

STOVE LION AND GUIDE.

from the Persians, and one can never fancy their abandon¬
ing themselves to “ miscellaneous impulses.”

Killa Bazuft, Bazuft Valley , June 18 .—A few days
ago we left the last village of the region behind, to enter
upon a country not laid down in any maps. It is
a wild land of precipitous mountain ranges, rising into
summits from 11,000 to 13,000 feet high, enclosing-
valleys and gorges or canons of immense depth, some of
them only a few feet wide, a goodly land in part, watered
by springs and streams, and green with herbage and
young wheat, and in part naked, glaring, and horrible.

LETTER XVI

BAKHTIARI AGRICULTURE

It is very solitary, although at times we come upon
Bakhtiaris in camp, or moving with their flocks, much
darker in complexion and more uncivilised in appearance
than those of Ardal and its neighbourhood. From these
camps Aziz Khan procures guides, milk, and bread.
The heat increases daily, and the hour of getting up is
now 2.45. There are many forlorn burial-grounds, and
their uncouth stone lions, more or less rudely carved, are
the only permanent inhabitants of the region. Wheat
and barley grow in nearly all the valleys, and clothe the
hill-slopes, but where are the sowers and the reapers,
and where are the barns ? Cultivation without visible
cultivators is singularly weird.

Although the Bakhtiaris expend great labour on irriga¬
tion, their methods of cultivation are most simple. They
plough with a small plough with the share slightly shod with
iron; make long straight furrows, and then cross them
diagonally. They do not manure the soil, but prevent
exhaustion by long fallows. After they come up to the
mountains they weed their crops carefully, and they look
remarkably clean. In reaping they leave a stubble five
or six inches long. There is a good deal of spade hus¬
bandry in places where they have no oxen, or where the
arable patches are steep. The spades are much longer
than ours, and the upper corners of the sides are turned
over for three inches.

A spade is worked by two men, one using his hands
and one foot, and the other a rope placed where the
handle enters the iron, with which he gives the implement
a sharp jerk towards him.

In the higher valleys they grow wheat and barley only,
but in the lower rice, cotton, melons, and cucumbers are
produced, and opium for exportation. They plough and
sow in the autumn, and reap on their return to their
“ yailaks ” the following summer. Their rude water

10

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XYI

mills, and the hand mills worked by women, grind the
wheat into the coarse flour used by them.

It appears from the statements of the Mollah-i-Murtaza ,
Aziz Khan, an intelligent son of Chiragh Ali Khan, and
others, that the tenure of arable lands is very simple
and well understood. “From long ago” certain of such
lands have been occupied by certain tribes, and have
been divided among families. Some of the tribes possess
documents, supposed to secure these rights, granted by
Ali Mardan Khan, the Bakhtiari king of Persia, in the
anarchical period which followed the death of Nadir Shah.
Those of them who are without documents possess the
lands by right of use. Nearly all the tribes have indi¬
vidual rights of tillage, and have expended much labour
on their lands in irrigation and removing stones. A fee
for the use of these lands is paid to the Ilkhani every year
in money or cattle.

For pasturage there is only the right of “use and wont,”
and the grazing is free. For camping-grounds each tribe
has its special “use and wont,” subject to change by
the order of the Ilkhani, but it was out of quarrels con¬
cerning these and the pasture lands that many of the
feuds at present existing arose.

We left Ali-kuh in a westerly direction, followed and
crossed the Karun, left it at its junction with the Duab, as¬
cended this short affluent to its source, crossed the Gardan-
i-Cherri at an elevation of 9200 feet, and descended 4000
feet into the Bazuft or Budbar valley, where the camps now
are. The road after leaving Ali-kuh, where the slopes were
covered with pink and white hollyhocks, keeps along a
height above the Karun, and then descends abruptly
into a chasm formed of shelves of conglomerate, on the
lowest of which there is just room for a loaded mule
between the cliffs and the water at the narrowest part.
Shadowed by shelf upon shelf of rock, the river shoots

To face p. 10, vol. 11.

KAllUN AT rUL-I-ALI-KUII.

LETTER XVI

THE PUL-I-ALI-KUH

11

through a narrow passage, as though impatient for its
liberation from an unnatural restraint, and there is what
I hesitate to call—a bridge. At all events there is a
.something by which men and beasts can cross the chasm—
a rude narrow cradle of heavy branches, filled with
stones, quite solid and safe, resting on projections of rock
on either side. The Karan, where this Pul-i-Ali-kuh
crosses it, is only nine feet six inches in width. I found
the zigzag ascent on the right bank a very difficult one,
and had sundry falls.

Two hours more brought us to the junction of the
Karun and Duab (“ two rivers ”) above which the former
is lost to view in a tremendous ravine, the latter coming
down a green valley among high and mostly bare mountains,
on a gravelly slope of one of which we camped, for the
purpose of ascending a spur of a lofty mountain which
overhangs the Karun. On such occasions I take my mule,
Suleiman, the most surefooted of his surefooted race, who
brings me down precipitous declivities which I could not
look at on my own feet. After crossing the Duab, a green,
rapid willow-fringed river, by a ford so deep as to be half¬
way up the bodies of the mules, and zigzagging up a steep
mountain side to a ridge of a spur of Kaisruk, so narrow
that a giant might sit astride upon it, a view opened of
singular grandeur.

On the southern side of the ridge, between mountains
of, barren rock, snow-slashed, and cleft by tremendous
rifts, lying in shadows of cool gray, the deep, bright,
winding Duab flows down the green valley which it
blesses, among stretches of wheat and mounds where only
the forgotten dead have their habitation,—a silver thread
in the mellow light. On the northern side lies the huge
Tang-i-Karun, formed by the magnificent mountain Kais-
ruh on its right bank, and on the left by mountains
equally bold, huge rock-masses rising 3000 feet per-

12

JOUENEYS m PEBSIA

LETTER XVI

pendicularly, and topped by battlements of terra-cotta
rock, which took on vermilion colouring in the sunset
glow. Through this mighty gorge the Karun finds its
way, a green, rapid willow-fringed stream below the
ridge, and visible higher up for miles here and there in
bottle-green pools, everywhere making sharp turns in its
stupendous bed, and disappearing from sight among huge
piles of naked rock. Even on this splintered ridge, at a
height of 8000 feet, there were tulips, celery in blossom,
mullein, roses, legions of the Fritillaria imperialis , anem¬
ones, blue linum, and a wealth of alpine plants.

There also are found in abundance the great um¬
belliferous plants —Ferula glauca , Ferula candelabra , and
the Ferula asafcetida. The latter I have never seen else¬
where, and was very much rejoiced to procure some of its
“ tears,” though the odour will cling to my gloves till they
are worn out. Hadji had heard that it is found in one
or two places in the Bakhtiari country, but up to this
time I had searched for it in vain. There also for the
first time I found the Astragalus verus , the gum traga-
canth of commerce. The ordinary tragacanth bush, the
“ goat’s thorn,” the Astragalus tragacantha , which is found
everywhere on the arid hillsides, produces a gummy juice
but no true gum, and its chief value is for kindling fires.

Following up the Duab, through brush of tamarisk,
Hippophae rhamnoides, and Indian myrtle, above the culti¬
vated lands, and passing burial mounds with their rude
stone lions with their sculptured sides, we camped in a
valley at the foot of 'the Gardan-i-Oherri and Kuh-i-Milli,
close to the powerful spring in the hillside which is the
source of the stream, where there was abundant level ground
for three camps. The next evening Karim, the man who
so nearly lost his arm some time ago, was carried past my
tent fainting, having been severely kicked in the chest by
the same horse that lacerated his arm. “ I am unlucky,”

LETTER XVI

THE BAZUFT VALLEY

13

he murmured feebly, when he came to himself in severe
pain.

I have crossed the Gardan-i-Cherri twice, and shall
cross it a third time. It marks a great change in the
scenery, and the first intimation of possible peril from the
tribesmen. The ascent from the east, which is extremely
rugged and steep, is one of 2000 feet in three and a half
miles. Near the top were many Ilyats camping without
their tents, a rough-looking set, with immense flocks, and
on the summit the Agha, who was without his attendants,
met some men who were threatening both in speech and
gesture.

From the top there is a wonderful view into an un¬
known land. The ranges are heavily wooded, and much
broken up into spurs and rounded peaks. Between the
great range, crossed at a height of 9550 feet by the
Cherri Pass, and a wall-like range of mighty mountains of
white limestone with snow on them hardly whiter than
themselves, lies the Bazuft valley, 4000 feet below, and
down upon it come sharp forest-covered spurs, often, con¬
nected by sharp ridges of forest-covered rocks cleft by
dark forest-filled ravines, with glimpses now and then of
a winding peacock-green river, flowing at times through
green lawns and slopes of grain, at others disappearing
into 'gigantic canons—great forest-skirted and snow-
slashed mountains apparently blocking up the valley
at its higher end. At the first crossing all lay glorified
in a golden veil, with indigo shadows in the rifts and
white lights on the heights.

The first part of the descent is fearfully rough, a suc¬
cession of ledges of broken rock encumbered here and
there with recently dead horses or mules, and the whole
downward course of 4000 feet is without a break, the
climate getting hotter and hotter as one descends. At
8000 feet the oak forests begin. This oak bears acorns

14

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVI

nearly three inches long, which are ground and made
into bread. All other vegetation is dried and scorched,
and the trees rise out of dust. In this forest we came
upon a number of Ilyats, some of whom were lying under
a tree, ill of fever, and Aziz Khan insisted that then and
there I should give them quinine.

At the bottom of this unalleviated descent there is a
shady torrent, working a rude flour mill ; a good deal of
wheat speckled with hollyhocks, white campanulas, and
large snapdragons; some very old tufa cones, and below
them level lawns, eaten bare, fringed with oaks, with dry
wood for the breaking; and below again the translucent,
rapid, peacock-green, beautiful Bazuft. But not even the
sound of the rush of its cool waters could make one for¬
get the overpowering heat, 100°, even in the shade of a
spreading tree.

I know not which is the more trying, the ascent or
the descent of the 4000 feet of ledges and zigzags on
the southern face of the G-ardan-i-Cherri. The road is
completely encumbered with stones, and is being allowed
to fall into total disrepair, although it is the shortest
route between Isfahan and Shuster. Things are un¬
doubtedly deteriorating. The present Ilkhani is evidently
not the man to get and keep a grip on these turbulent
tribesmen. I notice a gradual weakening of his authority
as the distance from Ardal increases.

When Hussein Kuli Khan, the murdered father of
Isfandyar Khan, was Ilkhani, he not only built substantial
bridges such as those over the Karun in the Tang-i-Ardal
and at Dupulan, but by severe measures compelled every
tribe using this road in its spring and autumn migrations
to clear off the stones and repair it. As it is, nearly all
our animals lost one or more of their shoes on the descent.
The ascent and descent took eight hours.

Some of the cliffs on the right bank of the Bazuft are

letter XVI

THE PLATEAU OE GORAB

15

of gypsiferous rock, topped with pure white gypsum,
resting on high, steep elevations of red and fawn coloured
earths, with outcrops of gravel conglomerate.

Yesterday was spent in a very severe expedition of
twenty-four miles from Mowaz to the lofty plateau of
Gorab, mostly through oak forest, crossing great canons
800 feet deep and more, with almost precipitous sides,
descending upon the awful gorge through which the
Bazuft passes before it turns round the base of the Kuh-
i-Gerra, the monarch of this mass of mountains. The
ascents and descents were endless and severe as- we
crossed the mountain spurs. It was a simple scramble
up and down rock ledges, among great boulders, or up or
down smooth slippery surfaces. Even my trusty mule
slipped and fell several times. Often the animals had
to jump up or down ledges nearly as high as their chests,
and through rifts so narrow as only just to admit the
riders. In some places it was absolutely necessary to
walk, and in attempting to get down one bad place
on my own feet I fell and hurt my knee badly—a
serious misfortune just at present.

After twelve miles of a toilsome march the guide led
us up among the boulders of a deep ravine to the treeless
plateau of Gorab, an altitude of 8000 feet, where the air
was fresh and cool. The scenery is on a gigantic scale,
and the highly picturesque Bazuft is seen passing through
magnificent canons of nearly perpendicular rock, and mak¬
ing sharp turns round the bases of lofty spurs, till after a
course of singular beauty it joins the Karun at Shalil. It
is glorious scenery, full of magnificence and mystery. This
beautiful Ab-i-Bazuft, which for a long distance runs
parallel with the Karun within fifteen or eighteen miles
of it, is utterly unlike it, for the Karun is the most
tortuous of streams and the Bazuft keeps a geographically
straight course for a hundred miles. Springs bursting

16

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVI

from the mountain sides keep it always full; it passes
nearly ice-cold among lawns and woods, and its colour is
everywhere a pure peacock-green of the most exquisite
tint, contrasting with the deep blue-green of the Karun.
Shuster is only seven marches off, and in the direction
in which it lies scorched barren hills fill up the distance,
sinking down upon yellow barren plains, softened by a
yellow haze, in which the imagination sees those vast
alluvial stretches which descend in an unbroken level to
the Shat-el-Arab and the Persian Gulf. Many a lofty
range is seen, but the eye can rest only on the huge
Gerra mass, with the magnificent snowy peak of Dalo-
nak towering above all, bathed in a heavenly blue.

The shelter-tent was pitched till the noonday heat
moderated. Abbas Ali and Mehemet Ah were inside it,
and I was reading Ben Hut aloud. Aziz Khan was
lying half in and half out, with a quizzical look on his
face, wondering at a woman knowing how to read. Not
a creature had been seen, when as if by magic nine or
ten Lurs appeared, established themselves just outside,
and conversed with Aziz. I went on reading, and they
went on talking, the talk growing disagreeably loud, and
Aziz very much in earnest. Half an hour passed thus,
the Agha, who understood their speech, apparently giving
all his attention to Ben Hur.

I did not hear till the evening that the topic of the
talk was our robbery, with possible murder, and that
Aziz was spending all his energies on dissuading them,
telling them that we are guests of the Ilkhani and under
the protection of the Shah, and that they and their tribe
would be destroyed if they carried out their intention.
They discovered that his revolvers were not loaded—he
had in fact forgo.tten his cartridges, and one said to the
others, “ Don’t give him time to load.”

While the tent was being packed, I sat on a stone

LETTER XVI

A SERIOUS INCIDENT

17

watching the Lurs, dark, handsome savages, armed with
loaded clubbed sticks, and the Agha was asking them
about the country, when suddenly there was a miUe, and
the semblance of an attack on him with the clubs. He
seemed to shake his assailants off, lounged towards his
mule, took his revolver from the holster, fired it in the
air, and with an unconcerned, smiling face, advanced
towards the savages, and saying something like calling
attention to the excellences of that sort of firearm, fired
two bullets close over their heads. They dread our arms
greatly, and fell back, and molested us no further. Till
later I did not know that the whole thing was not a
joke on both sides. Aziz says that if it had nbeen
for the Agha’s coolness, all our lives would haw* been
sacrificed.

In returning, the Agha, walking along a lower track
than we were riding upon, met some Lurs, who, thinking
that he was alone, began to be insolent, and he heard
them say to each other, “ Strip him, kill him,” when their
intention was frustrated by our appearance just above.
After crossing the Serba torrent with its delicious shade
of fine plane trees, the heat of the atmosphere, with the
radiation from rock and gravel, was overpowering. I
found the mercury at 103° in my shady tent.

Aziz Khan now pays me a visit each evening, to
me such information as is attainable regarding the pe
and locality, and, though he despised me at first, *
Moslem fashion, we are now very good friends. He
brave man, and made no attempt to magnify the dar
at Gorab, merely saying that he was devoutly than!
that we had escaped with our lives. He remonstra
with me for pitching my tent in such a lonely pic
quite out of sight of the other camps, but it was tl
too dark to move it. He said that there was some ri
for the Lurs had declared they would “ rob us yet,” b

VOL. II o

18

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA.

LETTER XVI

he should watch all night. I knew he would, for the
sake of his Arab mare!

This morning, soon after leaving Mowaz, the Sahib’s
guide galloped up, saying that his master had been
robbed of “ everything ” the night before, and was
without the means of boiling water. Orders were
given for the camps to close up, for no servants to ride
in advance of or behind the caravan, and that no Ilyats
should hang about the tents.

Although the Bakhtiari Lurs are unified under one
chief, who is responsible to the Shah for the security of
the country, and though there has been a great improve¬
ment Since Sir A H. Layard’s time, the advance, I
think. Is chiefly external. The instincts and traditions
of the tribes remain predatory. Possibly they may no
longer attack large caravans, but undoubtedly they »rob,
when and where they can, and they have a horrid habit
of stripping their victims, leaving them with but one
under garment, if they do not kill them. They have a
gesture, often used by Aziz Khan in his descriptions of
raids, which means stripping a man to his shirt. The
word used is skin, but they are not such savages as this
implies. The gesture consists in putting a finger into the
mc^.th, slowly withdrawing it, and holding it up with a
y of infinite complacency. Aziz admits with some
~ 3 that with twenty, men he fell upon a rich caravan

’-■Shiraz, and robbed it of £600.

To - day’s march has been mainly through very
active scenery. We crossed the Ab-i-Mowaz, pro-
led over slopes covered with wheat and flowers, and
ag a rocky path overhanging the exquisitely tinted
uft, forded the Ab-i-Nozi, at a place abounding in
iarisks bearing delicate, feathery pink blossoms, and
ended to upland lawns of great beauty, on which
3 oaks come down both in clumps and singly.

KiLLA uazuft. To face p. 19, vol. II

LETTER XVI

KILLA BAZUFT

19

as if planted. The views from this natural park are
glorious. Besides the great ranges with which I have
become familiar, the Safid-Kuh, or “ white mount,” on
the right bank of the river, at present deserves its name,
its snows descending nearly to the forests which clothe
its lower heights. A deep chasm conceals the Tabarak
stream up to the point of its foamy junction with the
Bazuft, which emerges on the valley by an abrupt turn
through a very fine canon.

We crossed the pure green waters by a broad ford,
and camped on the right bank on a gravel plateau above
it, on which is Killa Bazuft, a large quadrangular stone
fort with round towers at the corners, an arcaded front, a
vaulted entrance, and rooms all round the quadrangle.
It is now ruinous. Some irrigated land near it produces
rice and mosquitos. The Sahib’s camp is pitched here.
He has been badly robbed, both of clothing and cook¬
ing-pots, and was left without the means of cooking any
food.

Dima , June 26 .—We retraced our steps as far ^ the
source of the Duab, crossed into the Shamisiri valley, c nd
by a low pass into the Karun valley, forded the Kara \
by a strong deep ford, crossed a low range into the,
Zarin valley, where are some of the sources of the Zain-
derud, from thence marched to the Tang-i-Ghezi, through
which the Zainderud, there a vigorous river, passes into
the Ghahar Mahals, went up the Kherson valley, crossed
Gargunak, and by a very steep and rugged descent reached
this camp, a place of springs, forming the upper waters of
the Zainderud. These days have been severe, the heat
great, and the incidents few.

The ascent of the Gardan-i-Cherri was difficult. The*
guide misled us, and took us through a narrow rift in t^ -
crest of a ridge on broken ledges of rock. We cam]
at a height of 9000 feet in the vicinity of snow. r *

20

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVI

new arrangement, which is necessary for safety, does not
increase comfort, for the Arab horses, noisy, quarrelsome
fellows, are in camp, and the mules shake their bells and
sneeze and bray at intervals all night.

The descent of 2000 feet into the Shamisiri valley,
over bare gravel chiefly, was a very hot one. It is a
wide, open valley with stony hills of no great height en¬
closing it, with much green sward along the river banks,
above which, running to a great height on the hillsides,
are stretches of irrigated wheat. So far as I have yet
seen, the wheat is all “ bearded.” It is a most smiling
valley; so cultivated, indeed, and so trim and free from
weeds are the crops, that one naturally looks for neat
farm-houses and bams. But one looks in vain, for
except the ruins of some Armenian villages there are no
traces of inhabitants, till night comes, when the glimmer
of camp fires here and there high up on the hillsides
shows the whereabouts of some migratory families.

I stprt so early as to get in to the camping-ground
about^.nine now, and the caravan, two hours later, comes
in ^Mth mules braying, bells ringing, horses squeal-
ir<g for a fight, servants shouting. Then the mules roll,
^iie tent-pegs are hammered down, and in the blazing,
furnace-like afternoons the men, who have been up since
2 A.M., take a prolonged siesta, and a solemn hush falls
on the camp. After the Gorab affair I loaded my
revolver, and now sleep with it under my pillow, carry it
in my holster, and never have it out of my reach. I
think I should only fire it in the air if I were attacked,
but the fact of being known to be armed with such a
weapon is more likely than anything else to prevent
attack. No halt is now made on the march.

The sick people who appeared at Shamisiri, from no
Le knows where, were difficult and suspicious, and so

y have been since. The dialect of Persian has some-

LETTER XVI

PATERNAL TENDERNESS

21

what changed, and Aziz Khan now interprets the strange
accounts of maladies to Mirza, and he interprets to me.
When they crowd almost into the tent, Aziz, when
appealed to, pelts them with stones and beats them with
a stick, and they take it very merrily. He thinks that
I have appliances in the “ leather box ” for the cure of
all ills, and when he brings blind people, and I say that
I cannot do anything for them, he loses his temper.
No matter where we camp, dark, handsome men spring up
as if by magic, and hang about the fires for the rest of the
day. From.among these the guides are usually selected.

Numbers of “patients” appear everywhere, and the
well assemble with the sick round my tent. At Berigun
the people were very ignorant and obstinate. After spend¬
ing a whole hour on two men, and making medicines up
for them, they said they would have the “ Feringhfs oint¬
ment,” but “nothing that goes down the throat.” Another
said (and he had several disciples) that he would not take
the medicine “for fear it should make him a Christian.”
One man, who has fever, took away four quinine powders
yesterday for four days, and came back to-day deaf and
giddy, saying that I have killed him. He had taken
them all at once !

It is very pleasant to see how very fond the men are
of their children, and how tender and loving they are to
their little girls. The small children are almost always
pretty, but by three years old the grace and innocence of
childhood are completely lost, and as in Persia there are
no child faces; indeed, the charm of childhood scarcely
survives the weaning-day. If they are sick the fathers
carry them for miles on their backs for medicine, and
handle them very gently, and take infinite pains to under¬
stand about the medicine and diet. Even if both father
and mother come with a child, the man always carries
it, holds it, is the spokesman, and takes the directions.

22

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVI

Several men have offered me mares and cows if I will
cure their children. All the "patients” ask finally,

“ What must I eat, and not eat ?"

The Bakhtiaris have often asked me whether it is
unwholesome to live so much as they do on cheese and
sour milk. They attribute much of their dyspepsia to
their diet. They live principally on mast or curdled
milk, buttermilk, cheese, roghan or clarified butter, nan,
a thin leavened cake, made of wheat or acorn flour,
bannocks of barley meal, celery pickled in sour milk,
kabobs occasionally, and broth flavoured with celery
stalks and garlic frequently. They never use fresh milk.
They eat all fruits, whether wild or cultivated, while they
are quite unripe. Almonds are eaten green.

They hunt the ibex and shoot the francolin and the
bustard, and make soup of them. They are always on
the hills after game, and spare nothing that they see.
I have seen them several times firing at red-legged
partridges sitting on their nests. They use eggs consider¬
ably, boiling them hard. Alcohol in any form is un¬
known among them, and few, except the Khans, have
learned the delights of tea and coffee. Buttermilk, pure
water, and sharbat , when they can get lime-juice, are
their innocent beverages. The few who drink tea use it
chiefly to colour and flavour syrup. They eat twice in
the day. Though their out-of-doors life is healthy and
their diet simple, they rarely attain old age. A man of
sixty is accounted very old indeed. The men are cer¬
tainly not polite to their wives, and if they get in their
way or mine they kick them aside, just as rough men
kick dogs.

We have been marching through comparatively low¬
land scenery, like the Chahar Mahals, from which we
are not far. At Shamisiri, except for the fine peak of
Dilleh, there are no heights to arrest the eye. The hills

LETTER XVI

FORDING THE KARUN

23

on the north side are low, gravelly, and stony, with per¬
pendicular outbreaks of rock near their summits. To
the south they are of a different formation, with stratifica¬
tion much contorted. The next march was over low
stony hills, with scanty herbage and much gum traga-
canth, camel thorn, and the Prosopis stephaniana, down
a steep descent into the Karun valley, where low green
foot-hills, cultivated levels, and cultivation carried to a
great altitude on the hillsides refresh the tired eyes. The
Karun, liberated for a space from its imprisonment in
the mountains, divides into several streams, each one a
forcible river; winds sinuously among the grass, gleams
like a mirror, and by its joyous, rapid career gives ani¬
mation to what even without it would be at this season
a very smiling landscape. Crossing the first ford in
advance of the guide, we got into very deep water, and
Screw was carried off his feet, but scrambled bravely to
a shingle bank, where we waited for a native, who took
us by long and devious courses to the left bank. The
current is strong and deep, and the crossing of the caravan
was a very pretty sight.

We halted for Sunday at Berigun, an eminence on
which are a ruinous fort, a graveyard with several lions
rampant, and a grove -of very fine white poplars, one of
them eighteen feet in circumference six feet from the
ground. A sea of wheat in ear, the Karun in a deep
channel in the green plateau, some herbage-covered foot¬
hills, and opposite, in the south-west, the great rocky,
precipitous mass of the Zard Kuh range, with its wild
crests and great snow-fields, made up a pleasant land¬
scape. The heat at this altitude of 8280 feet, and in
the shade, was not excessive.

The next day's march was short and uninteresting,
partly up the Karun valley, and partly over gravelly hills
with very scanty herbage and no camps, from which we

24

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVI

came down abruptly into the elevated plain of Cheshmeh
Zarin (the Golden Fountain) at a height of 8500 feet,
the plain being about five miles by two and a half.
Receding hills with some herbage upon them border the
plateau, and the Zard Kuh, though at some distance,
apparently blocks up the western end. A powerful
spring bursts from under a ridge of rock half-way down
the plain, and becomes at once a clear gentle stream, fifty
feet broad, which passes through the level green sward
in a series of turns which are quite marvellous. Smooth
sward, green barley, many yoke of big oxen ploughing up
rich black soil, dark flocks of thousands of sheep and
goats, asses, mares, mules, cows, all feeding, large villages
of black tents, one of them surrounding the white pavilion
of a Khan, saddle-horses tethered, flocks being led to and
fro, others being watered, laden asses arriving and de¬
parting, butter being churned, and carpets being woven,
form a scene of quiet but busy industry which makes
one feel quite “in the world.” This stream is one of
the chief sources of the Zainderud.

From this cheerful camping-ground we marched over
low hills, forded the Zainderud several times, and came
upon several Ilyat camps on low, rich pasture lands.
These nomads had no tents, but dwelt in booths without
fronts, the roofs and backs being made of the tough
yellow flowering stalks of the celery. The path follows
the left bank *of the river, there a full, broad stream,
flowing through the Tang-i-Ghezi, through rounded hills,
and scenery much like that of the Cheviots. At the
Tang-i-Ghezi we camped, and this morning crossed a low
hill into a heavily-grassed valley watered by the Kherson,
ascended a shoulder of Gargunak, and halted at Aziz
Khan's tents, where the women were very hospitable,
bringing out cows' milk, and allowing themselves to be
photographed.

LETTER XYI AZIZ KHAN AND MIRZA YUSUF

25

An unpleasant contretemps occurred to me while we
were marching through some very lonely hills. If Mirza
rides as he should, behind me, his mule always falls out
of sight, and he is useless, so lately I have put him in
front. To-day I dropped a glove, and after calling and
whistling to him vainly, got off and picked it up, for I
am reduced to one pair, but attempt after attempt to ^get
on again failed, for each time, as I put my hand on the
saddle, Screw nimbly ran backwards, and in spite of my
bad knee I had to lead him for an hour before I was
missed, running a great risk of being robbed by passing
Lurs. When Mirza did come back he left his mule in a
ravine, exposed to robbers, and Aziz Khan was so in¬
furiated that he threatened to “cut his throat.” Aziz
despises him as a “ desk-bred ” man for his want of “ out-
doorishness,” and miniics the dreamy, helpless fashion
in which he sits on his mule, but Mirza can never be
provoked into any display of temper or discourtesy.

From Aziz’s camp we had a very steep and rugged
descent to this place, Cheshmeh Dima, where we^ have
halted for two days. Three streams, the head-waters
of the Zainderud, have their sources in this neighbour¬
hood, and one of them, the Dima, rises as a powerful
spring under a rock here, collects in a basin, and
then flows away as a full-fledged river. The basin or
pool has on one side a rocky hill, with the ruins of a fort
upon it, and on the three others low stone walls of very
rude construction. The Lurs, who soon came about us,
say that the ruined fort was the pleasure palace of a great
king who coined money here. The sides of the valley
are dotted with camps. Opposite are the large camp and
white tent of Chiragh Ali Khan, a chief who has the re¬
putation of being specially friendly in his views of England.

The heat yesterday was overpowering, and the crowds
of Bakhtiari visitors and of sick people could hardly be

26

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVI

received with "benevolent equanimity. This great heat
at an altitude of 7600 feet is most disappointing. These
head-waters of the Zainderud, rising in and beautifying
the Zarin, Kharba, and Dima valleys, unite before reach¬
ing the Tang-i-Ghezi, from which they pass to Isfahan, and
are, as has been stated before, eventually lost in a swamp.
This is the most watery region I have seen in Persia*
Besides the gushing, powerful springs which form vigorous
streams at the moment of their exit from the mountain
sides, there are many moist, spongy places in the three
valleys, regularly boggy, giving out a pleasant squish under
a horse’s tread, and abounding in plants associated in my
ideas with Highland bogs, such as the Drosera rotundi-
folia , which seems to thrive on a small red fly unknown
to me. These waters and swampy places occupy a small
area, just within the Outer range, below the southern
slopes of the Kuh-i-Bang.

Prom this place I made an expedition of thirty miles
up a very fine valley, much of which is irrigated and
cultivated, by an ascent of 2500 feet to the Gal-i-Bard-i-
J r jmal, a pass 10,500 feet in altitude, with a tremendous
j.escent into an apparent abyss, from whose blue depths
rise the imposing mass of the Kuh-i-Shahan, and among
other heights Faidun, a striking peak of naked rock, super¬
imposed on a rocky ridge. At this height the air was
really cool, and it was an escape from the heat of Dima.

This region seems much disturbed. We heard of
bloodshed two days ago, and to-day in the Kharba
valley of fighting among the Kuh-i-Shahan mountains with
the loss of twelve lives, and horsemen passed us armed
with long guns and swords on their way to tribal war.
I fear I shall have to return to Isfahan. Things are
regarded as looking very precarious farther on, and every
movement, retrograde or forward, is beset with difficulties.

I. L. B.

LETTER XVII

SICK POLK

27

LETTEE XVII

Camp Gal-i-Gav, Kuh-i-Rang, July 2 .

From Dima we ascended to high tablelands, having the
snowy Zard Kuh ever in sight, one nameless peak being
at present pure white, and descended into and crossed
the Shorab, a fertile valley, on one side of which is the
famous cleft called Kar Kanun, an artificial gash across
a spur of the Kuh-i-Bang of the same name. After
winding among mountains we descended on the Karun,
whose waters, clear, rapid, and peacock-green, fertilise a
plain of fine flowery turf lying at the base of hills, with
another branch of the Karun between them and the Zard
Kuh.

It is a lovely plain, bright and smiling, contrasting
with the savage magnificence of the Zard Kuh, which
comes down upon it with its peaks, chasms, and
precipices, and glittering fields of unbroken snow.
It was given up to mares and foals, but green platforms
high above, and little hollows in the foot-hills were
spotted with Ilyat tents, and in the four days which
we spent there the camps were never free from Ilyat
visitors. The Sahib came in the first evening with one
man badly hurt, and another apparently in the first stage
of rheumatic fever. A small tent was rigged for this poor
fellow, who was in intense pain and quite helpless, with a
temperature of 104°, and every joint swollen. The usual
remedies had no effect on him. I had had a present of

28

JOUENEYS m PEESIA

LETTER XVII

a small quantity of salol, a newish drug, with directions
for its use, and his master Hadji undertook to make
him take it regularly, and hot tea when he fancied it, and
at the end of twenty-two hours he was not only free
from fever hut from pain, and was able to mount a
mule. 1

There are two definite objects of interest close to the
plain of Chaman Kushan, the reputed source of the Karun
and the great artificial cleft of Kar Kanun. I visited the
first on a misty day, which exaggerated the height of the
mountains, and by filling their chasms with translucent
blue atmosphere gave a rare loveliness to the whole, for
it must be said that the beauties of Persian scenery are
usually staring, hard, and unveiled. The fords of two or
three rivers, including the Karun, some steep ascents and
descents, a rough ride along a stony slope of the Zard
Kuh, and the crossing of a very solid snow-bridge took us
to the top of a cliff exactly opposite the powerful springs
in which the Karun has its reputed origin.

Over this source towers the mighty range of the Zard
Kuh,—a colossal mountain barrier, a mass of yellow and
gray limestone, with stupendous snow-filled chasms, huge
precipices, and vast snow-fields, treeless and destitute of
herbage except where the tulip-studded grass runs up to
meet the moisture from the snow-fields. It is the birth¬
place of innumerable torrents, but one alone finds its way
to the sea.

These springs are in a lateral slit in a lofty lime¬
stone precipice below a snow-field, at one end of

1 For the benefit of other travellers I add that the dose of salol was
ten grains every three hours. I found it equally efficacious after¬
wards in several cases of acute rheumatism with fever. I hope that the
general reader will excuse the medical and surgical notes given in these
letters. I am anxious to show the great desire for European medical aid,
and the wide sphere that is open to a medical missionary, at least for
physical healing.

LETTER XVII

THE UPPER KARUN

29

which, as if from a shaft, the most powerful of them
wells up, and uniting with the others in a sort of grotto
of ferns and mosses pours over a ledge in a sheet of
foam, a powerful waterfall, and slides away, a vigorous
river of a wonderful blue-green colour, under a snow-
bridge, starting full fledged on its course. The surround¬
ings of this spring are wild and magnificent. A few
Bakhtiaris crept across the lower part of the face of rock,
and perched themselves above it. The roar of the water,
now loud, now subdued, made wild music, and the snow-
bridges added to the impressiveness of the scene.

Of course the geographical interest of this region is
engrossing. 1 This remarkable spring, called by the Bakh¬
tiaris Sar-i-Cheshmeh-i-Kurang (“the head source of the
Kurang”), and until this journey held to be the real
source, is not, however, the actual birthplace of the Karun
or Kurang, which was afterwards traced up to its head¬
waters in the magnificent Kuh-i-Rang. 2

A few words on this, the one real river of which
Persia can boast, and which seems destined to play an
important part in her commercial future, will not be out
of place. Prom its source it is a powerful and important
stream, full, deep, and flowing with great velocity for
much of its upper course between precipices varying in
height from 1000 to 3000 feet. It is a perennial stream,
fordable in very few places, and then only in its upper
waters. Varying in width usually from fifty to a hundred
yards, it is compressed at the Pul-i-Ali-kuh into a breadth
of about nine feet.

The steepness and height of its banks make it in

1 A few geographical paragraphs which follow here and on p. 35 are
later additions to the letter.

2 Although the correct name of this river is undoubtedly Kurang, I
have throughout adopted the ordinary spelling Karun> under which it is
commercially and politically known.

30

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVII

general useless for irrigation purposes, but some day it
may be turned to account as a great “ water power.” Its
windings, dictated by the singular formation of the moun¬
tain ranges (for I reject the idea of it having “ carved ”
its channel), are almost phenomenal. After flowing south¬
east for a hundred miles from its source, it makes an
acute bend, flows for fifty miles to the sjouth-west, and
then making another fantastic turn it flows in an exactly
opposite direction to that of its earlier course, proceeding
north-west to Shuster for a hundred miles.

It is calculated that the distance from the Kuh-i-Rang
to Shuster as the crow flies is seventy-five miles, but the
distance travelled by the waters of the Karun is 250
miles, with an aggregate’fall of 9000 feet.

Besides being fed on its journey through the Bakh-
tiari country by many mountain-side fountain springs of
pure fresh water, as well as by salt streams and springs,
it receives various tributaries, among the most important
of which are the Ab-i-Bazuft and a stream which, though
known locally under various names, may be called from
the Chigakhor basin in which it rises the Ab-i-Chig-
akhor, which makes a course of ninety miles to get over
a distance of twenty; the Darkash Warkash flowing in
from the Chahar Mahals near Ardal, the Dinarud rising
in the fair valley of Gorab, and the Ab-i-Cherri or Duab.

This mountain range, the Zard Kuh, in whose steep
side at a height of over 8000 feet the Sar-i-Cheshmeh-
i-Kurang wells up so grandly, is rather a series of rock.
summits and precipices than a range of mountains. In
late June its naked shelves and battlements upbore great
snow-fields, and its huge rifts or passes—the Gil-i-Shah,
nearly 11,700 feet in altitude, and the Pambakal, 11,400
—were full of snow. But even in four days it melted
rapidly, and probably by August little remains except a
few patches, in the highest and most sunless of the rifts.

ZARD KUH RANGE.

To face g, 30 , vol. II.

LETTER XVII

THE GIL-1-SHAH PASS

31

It is only on the north side that the snow lasts even into
July.

The marked features of this range are its narrow wall¬
like character, its ruggedness on both sides, its absence of
any peaks rising very remarkably above the ordinary
jagged level of the barrier, its lack of prominent spurs,
and its almost complete nakedness. It is grand, but only
under rare atmospheric conditions can it be termed beauti¬
ful. Its length may be about thirty miles. It runs from
north-west to south-east. Some of its highest summits
attain an elevation of 13,000 feet. Its name is a corrup¬
tion of Sard Kuh, “ cold mountain/’

After fording various snow streams and taking a break¬
neck goat track, we reached the great snow pass of Gil-
i-Shah, by which the Bakhtiaris come up from the Shuster
plains on the firm snow in spring, returning when the
snow is soft in autumn by a very difficult track on the
rocky ledges above. In the mist it looked the most magni¬
ficent and stupendous pass I had ever seen, always excepting
the entrance to the Lachalang Pass in Lesser Tibet, and an
atmospheric illusion raised the mountains which guard it
up to the blue sky. I much wished to reach the summit,
but in a very narrow chasm was fairly baffled by a wide
rift in a sort of elevated snow-bridge which the mule
could not cross, and camped there for some hours; but
even there nomads crowded round my tent with more
audacity in their curiosity than they usually show, and
Mirza heard two of them planning an ingenious robbery.

The heat was very great when I returned, 100° in the
shade, but rest was impossible, for numbers of mares and
horses were tethered near my tent, and their riders, men
and women, to the number of forty, seized on me, clamour¬
ing for medicines and eye lotions. I often wonder at
the quiet gravity of Mirza’s face as he interprets their
grotesque accounts of their ailments. A son of Chiragh

32

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVII

Ali Khan came to tell me that the “ Eeringhi ointment ”
had cured a beautiful young woman of his tribe of an
“ abscess in her nose ”! An instance of real benefit
hardly consoles for many failures, and any cure increases
the exhausting number of “ patients/’ On one day on
that plain there was no rest between eleven and five.

Small events occurred tending to show that the good
order which the Ilkhani’s government secures is chiefly
round the centre of rule. Stories of tribal disputes with
violence, and of fights arising out of blood feuds came
in daily, and recent sword cuts and bullet wounds were
brought to the Hakim. One day there was a disturb¬
ance in camp owing to a man attacking Hassan for
preventing a woman from entering my tent in my absence.
I learned very soon after coining into this country that
the Bakhtiaris are dangerously sensitive about their
women, although the latter are unveiled and have an
amount of latitude unusual in the East. I have more
than once cautioned my servants on this point, for any
supposed insult to a female relative of a Bakhtiari would
have by custom to be wiped out in blood. This extreme
sensitiveness has its good side, for even in the midst of
the tribal wars and broils which are constantly occurring
female honour is always secure, and a woman can travel
safely alone through the wildest regions; a woman be¬
traying her husband would, however, almost certainly
be put to death. One night the camps were threatened
by robbers, upon whom Aziz Khan fired.

Solitary as is now the general aspect of the surround¬
ing country, it must have been crowded with workmen
and their food providers within the last two centuries,
for in the beginning of the seventeenth century Shah Abbas
the Great, the greatest and most patriotic of modern
Persian kings, in his anxiety to deliver Isfahan once for
all from the risk of famine, formed and partly executed

letter svii AN ABORTIVE ENTERPRISE

33

the design of turning to account the difference in level
.(about 300 feet) between the Karun and Zainderud, and by
'cleaving an intervening mountain spur to let the waters
of the one pass into the other. The work of cleaving
was carried on by his successors, but either the workmen
failed to get through the flint which underlies the free¬
stone, or the downfall of the Sufari dynasty made an end
of it, and nothing remains of what should have been a
famous engineering enterprise but a huge cleft with tool
marks upon it in the crest of the hill, “in length 300
yards, in breadth fifteen, and fifty feet deep.” 1 Above
it are great heaps of quarried stones and the remains of
houses, possibly of overseers, and below are the rem nan ts
.of the dam which was to have diverted the Karun
water into the cleft.

On a cool, beautiful evening I came down from this
somewhat mournful height to a very striking scene, where
the peacock-blue branch from the Sar-i-Cheshmeh unites
with the peacock-green stream from Kuh-i-Kang, the
dark, high sides of their channels shutting out the moun¬
tains. Both rivers rush ^ tumultuously above their union,
but afterwards glide downwards in a smooth, silent
volume of most exquisite colour, so deep as to be unfordable,
and fringed with green strips of grass and innumerable
flowers. On emerging from the ravine the noble mass of
the Zard Kuh was seen rose-coloured in the sunset, its
crests and spires of snow cleaving the blue sky, and the
bright waters and flower-starred grass of the plain gave
a smiling welcome home. *

The next march was a very beautiful one, most of
the way over the spurs and deeply-cleft ravines of the
grand Kuh-i-Kang by sheep and goat tracks, and no
tracks at all, a lonely and magnificent ride, shut in
among mountains of great height, their spurs green with
1 Six Months in Persia. —Stack.

vol. n

34

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVII

tamarisk, salvias, and euphorbias, their ravines noisy
with torrents, bright springs bursting from their sides,
with lawn-like grass below, and their slopes patched witfr
acres of deep snow, on whose margin purple crocuses,
yellow ranunculuses, and white tulips were springing.
But the grand feature of the march is not the mighty Kuh-
i~Bang on the right, but the magnificent Zard Kuh on
the left, uplifting its snow-fields and snow-crests into the
blue of heaven, on the other side of an ever-narrowing
valley. At the pass of Gal-i-Gav, 11,150 (?) feet in
altitude, where we have halted for two days, the Zard
Kuh approaches the Kuh-i-Bang so closely as to leave
only a very deeply cleft ravine between them. From
this pass there is a very grand view, not only of these-
ranges, but of a tremendous depression into which the
pass leads, beyond which is the fine definite mountain
Kuh-i-Shahan. This pass is the watershed between the
Karun and Ab-i-Diz, though, be it remembered, the latter
eventually unites with the former at Band-i-Kir. All is
treeless.

The Kuh-i-Eang is the only“ real mountain ” seen on
the journey hitherto. It is unlike all others, not only
in its huge bulk and gigantic and far-reaching spurs, but
in being clothed. Its name means the “ variegated moun¬
tain.” It has much Devonshire red about it, but clad
as it is now with greenery, its soil and rock ribs cannot
be investigated.

It is a mountain rich in waters, both streams and
springs. It is physically and geographically a centre, a
sort of knot nearly uniting what have been happily
termed the “Outer” and “Inner” ranges of the Bakhtiari
mountains, and it manifestly divides the country into
two regions, which, for convenience’ sake, have been
felicitously termed the Bakhtiari country and Upper Elam,
the former lying to the south-east and the latter to the

LETTER XYII

THE KUH-I-RANG

35

north-west of this most important group of peaks, only-
just under 13,000 feet, which passes under the general
^lame Kuh-i-Rang.

A prominent geographical feature of this region is that
from this point south-eastwards the valleys run parallel
with the great ranges, and are tolerably wide and level,
carrying the drainage easily and smoothly, with plenty
of room for the fairly easy tracks which usually run on
both banks of the rivers.

The reader who has followed the geographical part of
my narrative will, I hope, have perceived that the open¬
ings through the Outer and Inner ranges in the region
previously traversed are few and remarkable, the Tang-i-
irhezi and the Tang-i-Darkash Warkash piercing the Outer,
and the Tang-i-Dupulan the Inner range.

The Kuh-i-Rang is the definite water-parting and the
originating cause of two drainage systems, and it may
be seen from the map, as was beautifully obvious from
the summit of one of the peaks over 11,000 feet in
height, that it marks a singular change in the “ lie of the
land,” inasmuch as the main drainage no' longer runs
parallel to the main ranges, but cuts them across, break¬
ing up Upper Elam into a wild and confused sea of
mountains, riven and gashed, without any attempt at
uniformity.

This cutting through the ranges at right angles by
rivers which somehow must reach the sea, probably
through channels formed by some tremendous operations
of nature, presents serious obstacles to the traveller,
and must effectually prevent commerce flowing in
that direction. The aspect of Upper Elam as seen
from the Kuh-i-Rang is of huge walls of naked rock,
occasionally opening out so as to give space for such a
noble mountain as the Kuh-i-Shahan, with tremendous
gorges or canons among them, with sheer precipices 4000

36

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVII

and 5000 feet high, below which blue-green torrents,
crystalline in their purity, rage and boom, thundering on
their way to join the Ab-i-Diz. The valleys are short, and
elevated from 6000 to 7000 feet, and the tracks dignifiea
by the name of roads pass along them and at great
altitudes on the sides of the main ranges, but are com¬
pelled continually to make dips and ascents of many
thousand feet to reach and emerge from the fords of the
rivers which dash through the magnificent rifts and
canons.

To the south-east of the Kuh-i-Rang the formation is
orderly and intelligible; to the north-west all is confusion
and disorder, but a sublime confusion. Two great passes
to the north and south of this magnificent mountain ar&
the only ways of communication between the region of
Upper Elam and the Bakhtiari country. The northern
pass was ascended from Dima. The Kharba, one of the
head-streams of the Zainderud, rises on it and fertilises a
beautiful valley about fourteen miles in length. That
pass, the Gal-i-Bard-i-Jamal (the pass of Jamal's stone),
the stone being a great detached rock near the summit,
and the Gal-i-Gav (the Cattle Pass) on the southern side,
are both over 10,000 feet in altitude. They are seldom
traversed by the natives, and only in well-armed parties,
as both are very dangerous.

The Kuh-i-Rang must now be regarded as the true
birthplace of the Zainderud and the Karun, though their
sources have hitherto been placed in the Zard Kuh. A
tributary of the Ab-i-Diz, and locally considered as its
head-water, rises also in the Kuh-i-Rang.

Aziz Khan, who had gone to his tents, has returned
with a very nice young servant and another mare, and
with him noise and “go” He has such a definite per¬
sonality, and is so energetic in his movements, that the
camps are dull without him. He is a fearful beggar.

LETTER XVn

AZIZ KHAN

37

He asks me for something every day, and for things he
can make no possible use of, simply out of acquisitive¬
ness. . He has got from me among many other things a

AZIZ KIIAN.

new embroidered saddle-clotli, a double-bladed knife, an
Indian kamarband , many yards of silk, a large pair of
scissors, bracelets for his wife and daughter, and working
materials, and now he has set his heart on a large com¬
bination knife, which is invaluable to me. “ What use

38

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVII

is that knife to a woman ? ” he asks daily. Now he says
that I have given him many things but I have never
given him money, and he must have a purse of money.

“ Why can you do so much more than our women ? ”
he often asks. His astonishment that I can read, and
yet more that I can write, is most amusing. “ Can
many women in your country write ? ” he asked. “ Can
your Queen read and write ? Can she embroider as you
do ? ” At first he thought that I only pretended to
write, but was convinced when I sent a letter to tl^
Ilkhani.

He usually appears when a number of sick people
come, interprets their dialect into good Persian for Mirza,
and heats and pelts them with stones when they crowd
too closely, but they do not care. Sometimes when I say
that nothing that I have can do a sick person any good
he begs c< for my sake ” that I will try, and when I still
decline he goes away in a tantrum, cursing, and shaking
his wide shulwars with an angry strut, but is soon back
again with fresh demands.

He spreads his prayer-carpet and goes through his
devotions thrice a day, but somehow “ Aziz Khan pray¬
ing” seems to suggest some ludicrous idea, even to his
co-religionists. “Eeringhis don’t fear God,” he said to
me; “ they never worship.” I told him he was wrong,

that many are very devout. He said, “ Does-pray ? ”

mentioning a European. I said “Most certainly,” and
he walked away with the sneering laugh of a fiend. He
is a complete child of nature. He says what he thinks,
and acts chiefly as he pleases, but withal there is a
gentlemanliness and a considerable dignity about him.
I think that his ruling religion is loyalty to Isfandyar
Khan, and consequent hatred of the Ilkhani and all his
other enemies. Going through a pantomimic firing of an
English rifle he said, “ I hope I may shoot the Shah with

letter XVII A SEVERE DISAPPOINTMENT

39

this one day!” “For what reason?” I asked. “Be¬
cause he murdered Isfandyar Khan's father, and I hate
him.” I asked him if he liked shooting, and he replied,
“ I like shooting men ! ”

He has done a good deal of fighting, and has been
shot through the lung, arm, and leg, besides getting
sword cuts, and he takes some pride in showing his
wounds. I think he is faithful. Mirza says that he has
smoothed many difficulties, and has put many crooked
things straight, without taking any credit to himself.
His most apparent faults are greed and a sort of selfish
cunning.

There are many camps about the Gal-i-Gav, and
crowds, needing very careful watching, are always about
the tents, wanting to see Feringhi things, most of the
people never having seen a Feringhi. It is a novel sight
in the evenings when long lines of brown sheep in single
file cross the snow-fields, following the shepherds into
camp.

This Gal-i-Gav on the Kuh-i-Rang marks a new
departure on the journey, as well as the establishment of
certain geographical facts. It will be impossible for the
future to place the source of the Karun in the Zard Kuh
range, for we followed the stream up to the Kuh-i-Rang,
or to indulge in the supposition that the mountains which
lie to the north-west are “ covered with eternal snow,”
which in'this latitude would imply heights from 17,000
to 20,000 feet.

It is indeed a disappointment that, look where one
may over the great area filled up by huge rock barriers
and vast mountains, from the softer ridges bounding the
fiery Persian plains to the last hills in which the Inner
range descends upon the great alluvial levels of Khuzistan,
not a peak presents itself in the glittering snowy mantle
which I have longed to see. Snow in forlorn patches or

40

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVII

nearly hidden in sunless rifts, and the snow-fields of the
Zard Kuh will remain for a time, but eternal snow is—
nowhere, and it does not appear that the highest of the
peaks much exceeds 13,000 feet, either in Upper Elam
or the Bakhtiari country.

Great difficulties are ahead, not only from tracks
which are said to be impassable for laden animals, but
from the disturbed state of the country. Erom what I
hear from Aziz Khan and from the guides who have
come up here, I gather that the power of the Ilkhani,
shaky enough even nearer Ardal, all but dwindles
away here, and is limited to the collection of the tribute,
the petty Khans fighting among themselves, and doing
mainly what is right in their own eyes.

It is somewhat of a satisfaction to me that it is im¬
possible now to go back, and that a region absolutely
unexplored lies ahead, doubtless full, as the previously
untraversed regions have been, of surprises and interests.

I L. B.

LETTER XVIII

AN ISOLATED VILLAGE

41

LETTEE XVIII

Camp Gokun, July 6 .

A descent of 5000 feet brought us into the grand and
narrow gorge of the Sahid stream, with willow, walnut,
oak, maple, pear, and crab along its banks, knotted together
by sprays of pink roses, with oaks higher up, and above
them again overhanging mountains of naked rock, scorched,
and radiating heat.

Quite suddenly, after a steep ascent, there is a view of
a steep slope below, where a lateral ravine comes down
on the Sahid, green with crops of wheat and barley,
poplars, willows, and a grove of fine walnuts, and more
wonderful still, with an imamzacla in good repair, and a
village, also named Sahid, in which people live all the
year. The glen is magnificent, and is the one spot that
I have seen in Persia which suggests Switzerland.

It is a steep and difficult descent through a walnut
grove to the village, and before I knew it I was on the
roof of a house. The village is built in ten steps up the
steep hillside, the posts which support one projecting roof
resting on the back of the roof below.

The people were timid and suspicious, gave untrue
replies to questions at first, said we were “ doing talisman
to take their country,” and consulted in Aziz’s and
Mirza’s hearing how they might rob us. It was even
difficult to get them to bring fodder for the horses. They
were fanatical and called us Kafirs. Some of the women

42

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

have never been out of their romantic mountain-walled
hole, in which they are shut up by snow for four months
every winter. Ten families live there, each one possess¬
ing a step. They said they owned sixty-five goats and
sheep, five cows, and seven asses; that they sell their
wheat, and salt from a salt spring at the back of the
hill, and that their food is chiefly acorn flour made into
bread, curds, and wild celery.

This bread is made from the fruit of the Quercus
lallota, which is often nearly three inches long. The
acorns are not gathered, but picked up when they fall.
The women bruise them between stones to expel the
bitter juices.. They are afterwards reduced to flour, which
is well washed to remove the remaining bitterness, and
dried in the sun. It is either made into thin cakes and
baked, or is mixed into a paste with buttermilk and water
and eaten raw. The baked cakes are not very unpalat¬
able, but the paste is nauseous. Acorn flour is never
used from choice.

The grain is exchanged for blue cottons and tobacco.
It is not possible to imagine a more isolated life. Tihran
and Isfahan are names barely known to these people,
and the Shah is little more to them than the Czar.

Hear the imamzada of Sahid is a burial-ground,
rendered holy by the dust of a pir or saint who lies
there. It has many headstones, and one very large gray
stone lion, on whose sides are rude carvings of a gun, a
sword, a dagger, a powder-flask, and a spear. On a few
low headstones a peculiar comb is carved, denoting that
the grave is that of a woman.

To several stones long locks of hair are attached, some
black and shining, others dead-looking and discoloured.
It is customary for the Bakhtiari women to sacrifice their
locks to the memory of their husbands and other near
male relatives.

LETTER XVIII

A BAKHTIARI WIDOW

43

I think that they have a great deal of conjugal and
family affection, though their ways are rough, and that
they mourn for their dead for a considerable time. On
one grave a young woman was rocking herself to and fro,
wailing with a sound like the Highland coronach, but
longer and more despairing. She was also beating her
uncovered bosom rhythmically, and had cut her face till
the blood came. So apparently absorbed was she in her
grief that she took no notice of a Feringhi and an Indian.
She had been bereaved of her husband for a year, his life
having been sacrificed in a tribal fight.

The next two days were occupied in what might
well be called “ mountaineering ” on goat tracks ; skirting
great mountain spurs on shelving paths not always
wide enough for a horse’s two feet alongside’ of each
other, with precipitous declivities of 1000 or 2000 feet;
ascending on ledges of rock to over 9000 feet, then by
frightful tracks descending 2000 or 3000 but to climb
again; and at every descent always seeing in front dizzy
zigzags surmounting the crest of some ragged ridge, only, as
one knows, to descend again. Screw nearly fell over back¬
wards with me once and again, and came down a smooth
face of rock as mules sometimes come down a snow slide
in Switzerland. I was told that I should “break my
neck” many times, that no Bakhtiari had ever ridden
over these tracks, or ever would, but my hurt knee left
me no choice. These tracks are simply worn by the
annual passage of the nomads and their flocks. They
are frightful beyond all description. The worst paths in
Ladak and Nubra are nothing to them.

Occasionally we traversed deep ravines with noisy
torrents where the shade was dense, and willows, ash,
walnut, cherry, elm, plum, and oak were crowded
together, with the Juniperus excelsa in rifts above. With
a moist climate it would be a glorious land, but even

44

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

where the scenery is finest there is always something
lacking. There is no atmosphere. All is sharp, colour¬
less, naked. Even many of the flowers are queer, and
some are positively ugly. Many have thorns, some are
leather-like, others woolly, a few sticky. Inconspicuous
flowers and large leathery leaves are very common.
The seed-vessels of some are far prettier than the flowers,
and brighter in colour. In several the calyx grows after
the corolla has withered, and becomes bright pink or
orange, like a very gay but only partially - opened
blossom. Umbelliferce predominate this month. Com -
positce too are numerous. All, even bulbs, send down
their roots very deep.

After leaving camp yesterday and crossing a high pass
we descended into the earth's interior, only to ascend a
second pass by a steep zigzag. Suddenly a wall of rock
appeared as if to bar progress, but on nearing it a
narrow Y-shaped slit was seen to afford a risky passage,
offering no other foothold than smooth shelving rock on
the inside for a number of yards, with a precipice above on
the right and below on the left. Ledges of slippery rock
led up to it, and Screw was jumping and scrambling up
these when the guides howled to me to stop, and I was
lifted off somehow. The white Arab was rolling and
struggling in the V, Screw following lost his footing, and
the two presented a confusion of hoofs and legs in the
air and bodies struggling and rolling through the slit till
they picked themselves up with cut legs. The guides
tried vainly to find some way by which the caravans
which followed much later might avoid this risk, and the
Agha went down the pass which had been so laboriously
ascended to give directions for its passage.

The charmdars on reaching the difficulty made
attempts to turn it but failed; some loads were taken
off and carried by men, and each mule struggled safely

LETTER XVIII

DIFFICULT CLIMBING

45

through with one man at his head, and one or two
supporting him by his tail. The passage of the Y took
the caravan an hour, but meantime there was the enjoy¬
ment of the sight of a confused mass of mountains,
whitish precipitous ranges, sun-lit, with tremendous ravines
between them, lying in the cool blue shadows of early
morning; mountains with long straight 'summits, moun¬
tains snow-covered and snow-slashed, great spires of
naked rock, huge ranges buttressed by huge spurs herbage-
covered, with outcrops of barren rock,—a mighty, solitary,
impressive scene, an uplifted wilderness without a camp.

The descent of 4000 feet from this summit consists
of any number of zigzag tracks on the narrow top of the
narrow ridge of one of the huge rocky buttresses of
Gartak, both sides being precipitous. Even on the horse
I was dizzy, and he went down most unwillingly, not
taking any responsibility as to finding the safest way,
and depending solely on my eye and hand. Mirza, being
hampered with the care of his own mule, was useless, and
otherwise I was alone. These thready zigzags ended on
what appeared to be a precipice, from the foot of which
human voices came up, shouting to me to dismount. I
did so, and got down, hanging on to Screw’s bridle, and
letting myself down over the ledges by my hands for
another hour, having to be careful all the time to avoid
being knocked down by his slips and jumps. I could
hardly get him to face some of the smooth broken faces of
rock. A slide of gravel, a snow-bridge, worn thin, over a
torrent, and some slippery rock ledges to scramble over by
its side led to a pathless ascent through grass and bushes.
The guides and Aziz roared to me from a valley below,
by which roars I found my way down a steep hillside
to the Gokun, a mountain river of a unique and most
beautiful blue-green colour, abounding in deep pools
from which it emerges in billows of cool foam.

46

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

I forded it by a broad ford where crystal-green water
glides calmly over brown and red pebbles, with a willow-
shaded margin, and as I crossed a flock of long-bearded
goats swam and jumped from rock to rock from the other
side, the whole scene an artist’s dream. This valley has
magnificent pasturage, hay not yet “sun cured,” long
grass, and abundant clover and vetches brightened by a
profuse growth of a small helianthus.

The march over the Gokun Pass and down to
the Gokun river is the worst I ever made. Had the
track been in Ladak or Lahoul it would have been
marked on the Government maps “ impassable for laden
animals.” Yet Hadji’s splendid mules, held at times by
both head and tail, accomplished it, and only minor
disasters occurred. One mule had his head g ash ed,
Mirza had a bad fall, and broke my milk bottle, Hassan,
leading his own horse, fell twenty feet with the animal
and cut his arm, the ridge pole of my tent was broken,
and is with difficulty bandaged so as to hold, and some
of the other baggage was damaged. Hadji grumbles
politely, and says that “ in all time loaded mules were
never taken over such tracks,” and I believe him. A tie
says that I must be “ tired of life,” or I should never ride
over them, and certainly Screw carried me at the peril of
his life and mine.

The camps are pitched for Sunday at an altitude of
8000 feet, high above the river—mine under the befriend¬
ing shade of a colossal natural sphinx, so remarkable
that two photographs and a sketch by Mirza were taken
of it. It confronted us in a startling way, a grand man’s
head with a flowing wig and a legal face, much resembling
the photographs of Lord Chancellor Hatherley.

The mules have been poorly fed for the last few days,
and it is pleasant to see them revelling in the abundant
pasturage. After this tremendous nine hours’ march they

LETTER XVIII

RIVAL FACTIONS

47

came in quite cheerily, Cock o’ the Walk leading the
caravan, with his fighting face on, shaking his grand inane,
and stamping as if he had not walked a mile.

The Sunday has been a very quiet one, except for the
fighting of the horses, which seem intent on murdering
each other, the fussiness of Aziz about a cut which his
mare got yesterday, and for which he expects my frequent
attention, and the torment of the sand-flies, which revel
in the heat which kills the mosquitos.

Kcdahoma, July 11 .—On Monday it was a pretty
march from the shadow of the sphinx through a well-
irrigated and cultivated valley with many camps, and
by a high pass, to the neighbourhood of the Kuh-i-Shahan,
on which I rested for some hours at a height of 12,010
feet, the actual summit being somewhat higher. On its
north-east side the view was hideous, of scorched, rolling
gravel hills and wide scorched valleys, with two winding
streams, and some patches of wheat surrounding two
scorched mud villages.

The descent to Camp Kamarun, a deep ravine with a
rapid mountain stream, was blessed by a shower, which
cooled the air, and resulted in the only grand, stormy,
wild sunset that I have seen for months. This valley is
blocked at the east end by Gargunaki, on the west by the
Kala Kuh, and the rocky ranges of Faidun and the Kuh-
i-Shahan close in its sides.

Long, long ago tradition says a certain great chief had
eleven sons. They quarrelled and divided into hostile
factions of four and seven, forming the still hostile groups
of the Chahar Lang and the Haft Lang of to-day. For
some time past the ruling dynasty has been of the Haft
Lang division; Aziz also belongs to it, and we have been
almost entirely among its tribes hitherto. This ancient
feud, though modified in intensity, still exists. At this
camp we were among tribes of the Chahar Lang, and there

48

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVm

was reason to apprehend robbery and a night attack; so
careful arrangements were made, and the men kept guard
by turns.

The following day’s march, which was also pretty, in¬
cluded a long descent through a cultivated valley, with
willows, plums, and walnuts growing along a stream, and
a steep ascent and descent to the two villages of Masir on
well-cultivated slopes, belonging to Taimur Khan, the chief
of the powerful Magawe tribe, to whom the villagers pay
what they call a moderate “ rent ” in sheep, goats, and
grain. They are of the Chahar Lang, and deny that
they are under the Ilkhani’s rule. They had a fight with
a tribe of the Haft Lang ten days ago, killed twelve men,
had seven killed and wounded, and took some guns and
horses. These, however, they have restored at the com¬
mand of the Ilkhani, which contradicts their assertion.

They have a burial-ground with several very white
lions rampant upon it, of most noble aspect, boldly carved,
and with the usual bas-reliefs on their sides.

The camps were on a gravelly slope with a yellow
glare, and the mercury reached 105°. The presence of
villages in this country always indicates a comparatively
warm climate, in which people can live throughout the
winter. The Scripture phrase, “ maketh the outgoings of
the morning and evening to rejoice,” has come to bear a
clear and vivid meaning. In this country, in this fiery
latitude, life is merely a struggle from the time the sun
has been up for two hours until he sinks very low.
“There is nothing hid from the heat thereof.” One
watches with dismay his flaming disc wheel into the
cloudless sky, to blaze and scintillate mercilessly there
for many terrible hours, scorching, withering, destroying,
“turning a fruitful land into a desert,” bringing eye
diseases in Ms train. With sunset, but not much before,
comes a respite, embittered by sand-flies, and life begins

LETTER XVIII

DARING DEPREDATORS

49

to be possible; then darkness comes with a stride and
the day is done.

Among the many people who came to the Hakim was
a man who had received a severe sword cut in the recent
fight. I disliked his expression, and remarked on it to
Mirza. On the next day’s march, though there were
twelve men with the caravan, this man seized and made
off with the handsome chestnut horse Karun, which was
being led. The horse had a sore back and soon kicked
off his rider and was recovered. On the same march
Mujid was attacked, and under the threat of being stripped
was obliged to give up all the money he had on his
person. On the same day some women clamorously
demanded bracelets, and when I did not give them
two took hold of my bridle and one of my foot, and
were dragging me off, when on Mirza coming up they
let me go.

Marching among lower hills and broader valleys, irri¬
gated and cultivated, with much wood along the streams
and scattered on the lower slopes, we passed the inhabited
villages of Tarsa and Sah Kala, surrounded by patches of
buckwheat, vetches, and melons, and with much provision
of kiziJcs for fuel on their roofs, and camped by the
richly-wooded river Guwa, in a grove of fine trees, crossing
its vigorous torrent the next morning by a wicker bridge,
the Pul-i-Guwa. A long ascent among oaks, where the
views of mountains and ravines were grand, an upland
meadow where I found a white bee orchis, and a steep
ascent among stones, brought us to the top of a pass 9650
feet in altitude. On.its south-west side there is a very
striking view of gorges of immense depth and steepness,
through which the Guwa finds its way. To the north¬
east the prospect is of a very feeble country, which we
entered by a tiresome gravelly descent, very open, com¬
posed of low hills with outcrops of rock at their sum-
VOL. II E

50

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

mits, irrigated rolling valleys and plains, with deep rifts
indicative of streams, and some Magawe villages.

Our route lay across the most scorched and gravelly
part of the upper slopes of a wide valley, scantily
sprinkled with blue eryngiums and a woolly species of
artemisia , a very repulsive region, where herds* of camels,
kept for breeding purposes, were grazing. On the other
side of this valley a spur of the fine mountain Jalanda
projects, and on it are the two villages and fort of
Kalahoma, the residence of Taimur Khan.

We halted below the hill while a spring was being
searched for, and I was sitting on horseback eating my
lunch, a biscuit in one hand and a cup in the other.
I have mentioned the savagery of the horses, and
especially of Hakim , who has become like a wild beast.
He was standing fully four horse-lengths away from
me, with his tail towards me, and the guide had let go
his bridle, when there was a roar or squeal, and a
momentary vision of glaring wild-beast eyes, streaming
mane, and open mouth rushing down upon me and tower¬
ing above Screws head, and the next thing I remember
is finding myself on the ground with my foot in the
stirrup and three men lifting me up.

I was a good deal shaken, and cut my arm badly, but
mounted again, and though falling on my head has given
me a sickish headache for two days, I have not absolutely
required rest, and in camp there is no use in “ making a
fuss ”—if indeed there ever is.

I shall not have pleasant memories of this camp.
The tents were scarcely pitched before crowds assembled
for medicine. I could get no rest, for if I shut the tent
the heat was unbearable, and if I opened it there was
the crowd, row behind row, the hindmost pushing the
foremost in, so that it was 8 p.m. before I got any food.
Yesterday morning at six I was awakened by people

LETTER XVIII

THE SICK AND WOUNDED

51

aU round the tent, some shaking the curtains and caUing
“ Hakim ! Hakim ! ” and though I kept it shut till
eleven, and raised the mercury to 115° by doing so,
there was no rest.

From eleven o’clock till 9 P.M., except for one hour,
when I was away at the Khan’s, I was “ seeing patients,”
wishing I were a real instead of a spurious Hakim , for
there was so much suffering, and some of it I knew not
how to relieve. However, I was able (thanks to St.
Mary’s Hospital, London) to open three whitlows and
two abscesses, and it was delightful to see the immediate
relief of the sufferers. “ God is great,” they all exclaimed,
and the bystanders echoed, “ God is great.” I dressed
five neglected bullet wounds, and sewed up a gash of
doubtful origin, and with a little help from Mirza pre¬
pared eye-lotions and medicines for seventy-three people.
I asked one badly-wounded man in what quarrel he had
been shot, and he replied that he didn’t know, his Khan
had told him to go and fight.

In the afternoon several very distressed people were
brought from an Armenian village ten miles off, and were
laid by those who brought them at the tent door. At
five the crowd was very great and the hubbub inconceiv¬
able, and Mirza failed to keep order in the absence of
Aziz Khan, who had gone on a pilgrimage to a neighbour¬
ing imamzada . The mercury had never fallen below
100°. I had been standing or kneeling for six hours,
and had a racking headache, so I reluctantly shut up my
medicine chest and went by invitation to call on the
Khan’s wives, but the whole crowd surrounded and fol¬
lowed me, swelling as it moved along, a man with a mare
with bad eyes, which had been brought ten miles for eye-
lotion, increasing the clamour by his urgency. “ Khanum !
Khanum!” (lady) “Chashma!” (eyes) “Shikain!” (stomach)
were shouted on all sides, with “ Hakim ! Hakim ! ” The

52

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

people even clutched my clothing, and hands were raised
to heaven to implore blessings on me if I would attend
to them.

The whole village of Kalahoma was out, thronging,
pressing, and almost suffocating me, and the Khan’s serv¬
ants who came to meet me did not or could not dis¬
perse the people, though every man holds his life at the
Khan’s disposal. These villages, which are surrounded
by opium fields, are composed of the rudest of human
habitations, built of rough stones, the walls being only
five feet high. There is much subterranean room for
cattle. The stacks of such winter fodder as celery and
Centaurea alata , and those of Jciziks for fuel, are larger
than the dwellings. The latter are of conical form, and
many of them are built on the house roofs.

Taimur Khan’s fort and serai are in the midst of all
this, and are very poor and ruinous, but the walls are
high, and they have a balakhana. As I approached the
ladies came out to meet me, veiled in white cotton
chaclars. The principal wife took my hand and led me
through a hole in the wall, not to be called a doorway,
into a courtyard littered with offal and piled with stacked
animal fuel, and up some high dilapidated steps, into a
small dark room, outside of which are a very small “lobby”
and a blackened ladder against the wall, leading to the
roof, on which the ladies sleep in the hot weather. Some
poor rugs covered the floor, and there were besides some
poor cotton-covered bolsters. Everything, even the dress
of the ladies, indicated poverty. The dark hot room
was immediately packed with a crowd of women, children,
and babies, all appallingly dirty. It was a relief when
the Khan was announced in the distance, and they cleared
out like frightened sheep, leaving only the four wives,
who stood up at his approach, and remained standing till
he was seated.

letter xvm AN UNFORTUNATE KHAN

53

No “ well-bred ” Khan would pay me a visit in his
andarun without sending first with his “ homage ” to know
if I would receive him, nor did Taimur Khan violate this
rule or the other of remaining standing until I asked him
to be seated. He is a tall, very melancholy-looking man,
with a Turkish cast of face, and is dressed in the usual
Persian style. After a few ordinary commonplaces he
talked politics and tribal affairs, apparently frankly, but
who can say if truthfully ? He knows that I have letters
from the Prime Minister, and he hoped that I might do
him some good at Tihran. As soon as important sub¬
jects superseded trifles, the wives relapsed into complete
indifference, and stared into vacancy.

His tribe, the Magawe, is estimated at 500 families,
and has been powerfuL Taimur Khan is a staunch
adherent of the Ilkhani, but at this point there is a
change as to the tribute, half of which is paid to the
Ilkhani and half to the Governor of Burujird. He has
many grievances, and complains most bitterly that he and
his tribe are being ground into poverty by exactions which,
he asserts, have this year raised the tribute from 700
to 4000 tumans.

He asks me to do something to help him, adding that
his house is in ruins, and that he is so oppressed that he
cannot build a new one, or have any surroundings suitable
to his rank. I said that I could only send his statements
to the British “ Vakil ” in Tihran, and he at once asked
how many horses he should present him with. I replied
that the “ Vakil ” would not accept anything, and that he
had lately declined a superb diamond setting in which
the Shah desired to send him his picture. The Khan
raised his hands, with the exclamation “ God is great! ”

Isfandyar Khan and Taimur Khan were at war some
years ago, and fought from mountain to mountain, and
Taimur Khan was eventually captured, taken to Buru-

54

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

jird, and sent to Isfahan, where he was kept in irons for
some years, the redoubtable Aziz Khan being one of his
captors. This accounts for the disappearance of Aziz on
“ pilgrimage ” to a neighbouring imamzada , and the con¬
sequent dulness of the camp.

Among a people at once simple and revengeful, it is
not unlikely that such severities may bear their legitimate
fruit if an occasion presents itself, such as the embroil¬
ment of Persia with any other power. Another Khan
who was thrown into prison and irons by the Zil-es-
Sultan expressed himself strongly on the subject. “ Five
years,” he said, holding out his muscular wrists, on which
the marks of fetters are still visible, “ I wore the chains.
Can I forget ? ” The Bakhtiaris do not love the Persians,
and are held, I think, by a brittle thread.

I have written of the extreme poverty of the surround¬
ings of the Khaja Taimur or Taimur Khan. It is not a
solitary instance. Throughout this journey I am painfully
impressed with the poverty of the tribesmen. As com¬
pared with the wealth of those farther south when visited
by Sir A. H. Layard and the Baron de Bode, their con¬
dition is one of destitution. The Ilkhani and Ilbegi have
fine -studs, but few of the Khans have any horses worth
looking at, and for some time past none at all have been
seen except a few belonging to the chiefs, and the men
either walk or ride very small asses.

Their cattle are few and small and their flocks insig¬
nificant when compared with those of the Arab tribes
west of the Tigris. Their tents and furnishings are like¬
wise extremely poor, and they live poorly, many of them
only able to procure acorn flour for bread, and this though
they grow a great deal of grain, and every yard of land
is cultivated if water is procurable.

The hospitality which those two travellers mention as
a feature of the character of the more southerly Bakh-

LETTER XVIII

BLOOD FEUDS

55

tiaris does not exist among these people. They have, in
fact, little to be.hospitable with. They all speak of better
days in the times of their fathers, when they had brood
mares and horses to ride, much pastoral wealth and plenty
of roghan , and when their women could wear jewels and
strings of coins.

On this point I believe them, though there may
possibly be exaggeration in Taimur Khan’s statements.
Persia has undoubtedly tightened her grip upon them,
and she is sucking their life-blood out of them. This
becomes very evident now that we have reached a point
where the government of Burujird comes in, with the
infinite unrighteousness of Persian provincial governors.
It is not the tribute fixed by the Amin-es-Sultan which
these Khans complain of, but the rapacious exactions of
the local governors.

There is a “ blood feud ” between Taimur Khan and
Aslam Khan, the chief of the Zalaki tribe, on whose
territory we shall enter to-day. A nephew of Taimur
killed a relation of Aslam, and afterwards Taimur sheltered
him from legitimate vengeance. Just now the feud is
very active, and cattle-lifting and other reprisals are
going on. “ Blood feuds ” are of three degrees, according
to the nature of the offence. In the first a man of the
one tribe can kill a man of the other wherever he finds
him. In the second he harries his cattle and goods.
In the third he simply “ boycotts ” him and refuses him
a passage through his territory. The Bakhtiaris have
often been called “ bloodthirsty.” I doubt whether they
are so, though life is of little account, and they are reck¬
less about spilling blood.

They have a great deal of family devotion, which in
lesser degree extends to the members of their tribe, and
a Bakhtiari often spares the life of a man who has
aggrieved him owing to his fear of creating a blood feud,

56

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

which must he transmitted from father to son, and which
must affect the whole tribe. As a deterrent from acts
of violence it acts powerfully, and may account for the
singular bloodlessness of some of the tribal fights. Few
men, unless carried away by a whirlwind of fury, care
to involve a tribe in the far-reaching consequences
alluded to, and bad as the custom of blood feuds is,
I think there can be no doubt that it acts as a curb
upon the passions of these wild tribesmen. “ There is
blood between us and them,” is a phrase often heard.

Punishments are simple and deterrent, well suited to
a simple people. When a homicide is captured he is
handed over to the relatives of the slain man, who may
kill him, banish him, fine him, or pardon him. In point
of fact, “ blood-money ” is paid to the family of the
deceased person, and to save his life from their vengeance
a homicide frequently becomes a mendicant on the other
side of the mountains till he can gain the required sum.
Moslem charity responds freely to a claim for alms to
wipe out a blood stain. The Hkhani has a right to fine
a homicide. “ Blood for blood ” is a maxim very early
inculcated.

The present feud between the Magawe and the Zalaki
tribes is of the first degree. It is undoubtedly a part
of the truly Oriental policy of Persia to foment tribal
quarrels, and keep them going, with the object of weaken¬
ing the power of the clans, which, though less so than
formerly, is a standing menace to the central govern¬
ment.

On reaching camp after this visit I found a greater
crowd than ever, and as “ divers of them came from far,”
I tried to help them till nine o'clock, and as Aziz had
returned the crowding was not so severe. He said,
“ You’re very tired, send these people away, you’ve done
enough.” I answered that one had never done enough

LETTER XVIII

A KAFIR PARADISE

57

so long as one could do more, and he made a remark
which led me to ask him if he thought a Kafir could
reach Paradise ? He answered “ Oh no ! ” very hastily,
but after a moment's thought said, “ I don't know, God
knows, He doesn't think as we do, He may be more
merciful than we think. If Kafirs fear God they may
have some Paradise to themselves, we don’t know.”

I. L. B.

58

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

LETTER XVIII ( Continued ) 1

Camp Kala Kuh, July 16.

The call to “ Boot and Saddle ” was at three, and I was
nearly too tired to pack in the sultry morning air. The
heat is overpowering. Khaja Taimur no doubt had
reasons for a difficulty in providing guides, which caused
delay. The track lay through pretty country, with
abounding herbage, to the village and imamzada of Mak-
hedi. There the guide said he dared not go any farther
for fear of being killed, and after some time another was
procured. Luring this delay a crowd of handsome but
hardship-aged women gathered round me, many of them
touching the handkerchiefs on their heads and then
tapping the palms of their hands, a significant sign,
which throughout Persia, being interpreted, means,
“ Give me some money.”

The Agha is in the habit of gathering the little girls
about him and giving them krans as from his own children,
a most popular proceeding usually; but here the people
were not friendly, and very suspicious. Even the men
asked me clamorously, “ Why does he give them money ?
it’s poisoned, it’s cursed, it’s to make them blind.” How-

1 From Kalahoma for the rest of the route the predatory character of
the tribes, the growing weakness of the Ukhani’s authority, the “blood
feuds ” and other inter-tribal quarrels, and the unsettled state of the Feili
Lurs, produced a general insecurity and continual peril for travellers, which
rendered constant vigilance and precautions necessary, as well as an alter¬
ation of arrangements.

LETTER XVIII

HOSTILE OR FRIENDLY ?

59

ever, avarice prevailed over fear. The people rarely see
money, and it is not used as a medium of exchange, hut
they value it highly for paying the tribute and as orna¬
ments for the women. Barter is the custom, and with
regard to “ tradesmen,” whether in camps or villages, it is
usual for each family to pay so much grain annually to
the blacksmith, the carpenter, the shoemaker— i.e. the man
who makes compressed rag or leather soles for ghevas and
unites the cotton webbing (“ upper ”) to the sole—and
the hammam keeper, in the rare cases where there is
one. They were cutting wheat on July 12 there at an
altitude of 7000 feet. Where there are only camps the
oxen tread it out at once on the hard soil of the fields,
but where there is a village the sheaves are brought in on
donkeys’ backs to a house roof of sun-dried clay, and are
there trodden out, the roofs being usually accessible from
the slope above.

We descended to a deep ford, crossed the river
Ab-i-Baznoi (locally known as Kakulistan, or " the curl,”
from its singular windings), there about sixty feet wide,
with clear rapid water of a sky-blue tint, very strong, and
up to the guide’s waist, and entered a steep-sided stony
valley, where the heat was simply sickening. There the
second guide left us, saying he should be killed if he
went any farther, but another was willing to succeed him.
After a steep ascent we emerged on a broad rolling
upland valley, deeply gashed by a stream, with the grand
range of the Kala Kuh on the south side, and low bare
hills on the north. It is now populous, the valley and
hillsides are spotted with large camps, and the question
at once arose, “ Hostile or Friendly ? ”

I was riding as usual with Mirza behind me, when a
man with a gun rushed frantically towards me from an
adjacent camp, waving his gun and shouting, “ Who are
you ? Why are you in our country ? You’re friends of

60

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

Khaja Taimur, you’ve given him presents, we’ll rob you ” !
With these and many similar words he pursued us, and
men started up as by magic, with long guns, r un ning
alongside, the low spurs became covered with people in
no time, and there was much signalling from hill to hill,
“ A-hoy-hoy-hoy-hoy,” and sending of messengers. Mirza
pacified them by saying that we are friends of Isfandyar
Khan, and that I have presents for Aslam Khan, their
chief; but soon the shout of “ Eeringhis ” was raised, and
from group to group along the knolls swelled the cry of
“ Eeringhis! Feringhis!” mixed with a few shouts of Kafir ;
but without actual molestation we reached a steep and
uncomfortable camping-ground, Padshah-i-Zalaki, at an
altitude of 7800 feet, with an extensive view of the broad
green valley.

Before we halted Aslam Khan, a very fine-looking
man, and others met us, and performed feats of horse¬
manship, wheeling their horses in small circles at a
gallop, and firing pantomimically over their left shoulders
and right flanks. The Sahib came in later, so that our
party was a tolerably strong one.

The first thing the people did was to crowd into the
shelter-tent and lie down, staring fixedly, a thing which
never happened before, and groups steadily occupied the
tops of the adjacent spurs. After my tent was pitched
the people assembled round it in such numbers, ostensibly
desiring medicine, that the Khan sent two tufangchis to
keep order among them, and Karim, whose arm is now
well, was added as a protection. The Agha ordered that the
people should sit in rows at the sides and take their turn,
one at a time, to come into the verandah, but no sooner
were he and Aziz Khan out of sight than they began to
crowd, to shout, and to become unmanageable, scuffling
and pushing, the tufangchis pretending to beat them with
the barrels of their guns, but really encouraging them,

LETTER XYIII

SEMI-SAVAGES

61

and at length going away, saying they could not manage
them. Karim begged me to stop giving medicine, for he
was overpowered, and if he opposed them any more there
would be a fight. They had said that if he “ spoke
another word they would kill him.” They were perfectly
good-humoured all the time, but acted like complete
savages, getting under the fiys } tugging at the tent ropes,
and trying to pull my blankets off the bed, etc. At
last the hindmost gave a sudden push, sending the
foremost tumbling into the tent and over me, upsetting
a large open packet of sulphate of zinc, just arrived from
Julfa, which was on my lap.

I left the tent to avoid further mischief, but was
nearly suffocated by their crowding and tugging my dress,
shouting “ Hakim ! Hakim ! ” The Sahib, who came to
the rescue, and urged them in Persian to depart, was
quite powerless. In the midst of the confusion the Khan's
wives and daughter came to visit me, but I could only
show them the crowd and walk, followed by it, in the
opposite direction from the tent, till I met the Agha,
whose presence restored order. That night nearly all
Hadji’s juls or mule blankets and a donkey were stolen.

The Zalakis are a large and powerful tribe, predatory
by habit and tradition. Aslam Khan himself directed
certain thefts from which we suffered, and quoted a pass¬
age from the Koran not only to extenuate but to warrant
depredations on the goods of “ infidels.”

Sunday was spent in the hubbub of a crowd. I was
suffering somewhat from a fall, and yet more from the
fatigues of Kalahoma, and longed for rest, but the tem¬
perature of the tent when closed was 106°, and when
open the people crowded at the entrance, ostensibly for
medicine, but many from a pardonable and scarcely dis¬
guised curiosity to see the “ Feringhi Hakim? and hear
her speak.

62

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER IVIII

In the afternoon, with Mirza and Karim as a guard,
I went somewhat reluctantly to the Khan’s camp to
return the abortive visit of the ladies. This camp con¬
sists of a number of black tents arranged in a circle, the
Khan’s tents only distinguishable from the rest by their
larger size. Mares, dogs, sheep, goats, and fireholes were
in the centre, and some good-looking horses were tethered
outside.

The Khan’s mother, a fine, buxom, but coarse-looking
woman, met me, and took me to an open tent, fully forty
feet long, the back of which was banked up by hand¬
some saddle-bags. Bolsters and rugs were laid in the
middle, on which the four legitimate wives and several
inferior ones, with a quantity of babies and children
crawling about them, were seated. Among them was
a very handsome Jewish-looking girl of eighteen, the
Khan’s daughter, pleasing in expression and graceful in
manner. She is married to a son of Taimur Khan, but
he does not care for her, and has practically discarded
her, which adds insult to the “ blood feud ” previously
existing.

After I entered the tent the whole camp population,
male and female, crowded in, pressing upon us with
clamour indescribable. The Khan’s mother slapped the
wives if they attempted to speak and conducted herself
like a ruling virago, occasionally shrieking at the crowd,
while a tufangchi with a heavy stick belaboured all within
his reach, and those not belaboured yelled with laughter.

The senior lady beckoned Mirza to lean towards her,
and told him in a whisper that her handsome grand¬
daughter is hated and despised by her husband, and has
been sent back with a baby a year old, he having taken
another wife, and that she wanted me to give her a
“love philtre” that would answer the double purpose of
giving her back his love and making her rival hateful in

LETTER xvm LOVE PHILTRES AND POTIONS

63

his eyes. During this whispered conference as many as
could reach leant close to the speakers, like the “ savages ”
that they are. I replied that I knew of no such philtres,
that if the girl's beauty and sweetness could not retain
her husband's love there was no remedy. She said she
knew I had them, and that I kept them, as well as
potions for making favourite wives ugly and odious to
their husbands, in a leather box with a gold key! Then
many headaches and sore eyes were brought, and a
samovar and tea, and I distributed presents in a Babel
in which anything but the most staccato style of conver¬
sation was impossible. When I left the crowd surged
after me, and a sharp stone was thrown, which cut
through my cloak.

Later, Aslam Khan, his brothers, and the usual train
of retainers called. He is a very fine-looking man, six
feet high, with a most sinister expression, and a look at
times which inspired me with the deepest distrust of him.
His robber tribe numbers 3500 souls, and he says that
he can bring 540 armed horsemen into the field. He
too asked for medicine for headache. Not only is there
a blood feud between him and Khaja Taimur, but be¬
tween him and Mirab Khan, through whose valley we
must pass. In the evening the Khan's mother returned
with several women, bent on getting the “love philtre.”
At night Hadji, who was watching, said that men were
prowling round the tents at all hours, and a few things
were taken.

On Monday morning early all was ready, for the three
caravans from that day were to march together, and I
was sitting on my horse talking with the Sahib, waiting
for the Agha to return from the Khan's camp, when he
rushed down the slope exclaiming, “There's mischief!”
and I crossed the stream and watched it. About twenty
men with loaded sticks had surrounded Mujid, and were

64

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LETTER XVIEI

beating Mm and finally got Mm down. I leapt back to
my own camp, where Hassan and Karim were taking a
parting smoke, and ordered them to the rescue. The
soldier rushed into the miUe, armed with only a cane,
wMch was broken at once, and the Bakhtiaris got him by
Ms tMck hair, and all but forced Mm down; but he
fought like a bulldog, and so did Hassan, who was unarmed
and got two bad cuts. Dashed too into the fray Hadji
Hussein, who fought like a bull, followed by his muleteers
and by Abbas Ali, who, being early knocked down, hung
on to a man’s arm with Ms teeth. The Sahib, who was
endeavouring to make peace, was untouched, possibly
because of Ms lineage and faith, and he yelled to Mirza
(who in a fight is of no account) to run for the A g ha,,
whose presence is worth fifty men.

Meanwhile a number of Zalakis, armed, two with
guns and the rest with loaded sticks, crowded round me,
using menacing gestures and calling me a Kafir, on
which I took my revolver out of the holster, and very
slowly examined the chambers, though I knew well that
all were loaded. TMs had an excellent effect. They fell
back, and were just dispersing when over the crest of the
hill cantered Aziz Khan, followed by the Agha, who, gal¬
loping down the slope, fired a revolver twice over the head
of a man who was running away, who, having stolen a
sheep, and being caught in the act by Mujid, had begun
the fray. Aslam Khan followed, and, the men say, gave
the order to fire, but recalled it on finding that one of his
tribesmen had been the aggressor. I thought he took the
matter very coolly, and he almost immediately told Mirza
to ask me for a penknife !

After tMs we started, the orders being for the caravans
to keep well together, and if we were absolutely attacked
to “ fire.” After ascending a spur of the Kala Kuh we
left the track for an Ilyat camp on a steep hill amn ng

LETTER XVIII

A DEATH' SCENE

65

oaks and pears, where I had promised to see a young
creature very ill of fever.

Among the trees was a small booth of four poles,
roofed with celery stalks, but without sides or ends, and
in this, on a sheepskin, was a heap out of which pro¬
truded two white wasted arms. I uncovered the back
of a head which turned slowly, and revealed, in a setting
of masses of heavy shining hair, the white face of a young
girl, with large brilliant eyes and very beautiful teeth.
Her pulse was fluttering feebly, and I told the crowd
that death was very near, for fear they should think
I had poisoned her with the few drops of stimulant that
she was able to swallow. Even here the death penalty
sometimes follows the joy of maternity. She died in
the evening, and now nothing remains of the camp but
a heap of ashes, for these people always at once leave
the camping-ground where a death has occurred.

Meanwhile the Agha was making friends with the
people, and giving krans to the children, as is his habit.
Scarcely had we left when he found that he had been
robbed of a fine pair of binocular glasses, almost a necessity
under the circumstances. English rifles, binoculars, and
watches are all coveted by the Bakhtiaris. Aziz Ivhan
became very grave, and full of dismal prophecies regard¬
ing the remainder of the journey.

After this divergence the scenery was magnificent.
The Kala Kuh range is certainly finer than the Zard Kuh.
It is more broken up into peaks of definite outline, and
is more deeply cut by gorges, many of them the beds of
torrents, densely wooded. In fact it is less of a range,
and more of a group. The route lay among huge steep
mountains of naked rock, cut up by narrow, deep, and
gigantic clefts, from whose depths rise spires of rock and
stupendous, almost perpendicular cliffs. Green torrents
flecked with foam boom through the shadows, or flash in
VOL. II F

66

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVHI

the sunlight, margined wherever it is possible by walnuts,
oaks, lilacs, roses, the Lastrea dilatata , and an entangle¬
ment of greenery revelling in spray.

A steep zigzag descent through oak and pear trees
brought us to the vigorous torrent Ab-i-Sefid (white water),
one of many of the same name, crossed by a natural
bridge of shelving rock, slippery from much use. One of
the Arabs so nearly fell on this that I dismounted, and
just as I did so Abbas Alls mule fell on his side, and
Screw following did the same, breaking several things in
the holster.

After crossing a deep ravine Abbas Ali sprang back
down the steep to it, and the Sahib, who was behind,
also ran down with three men to what was evidently a
disaster. Mirza’s mule had fallen over twenty feet,
rolling over him three times with its load, hurting his
knee badly. The Sahib said he never saw so narrow an
escape from a broken neck. The loss of a bottle con¬
taining a quart of milk was the chief damage. A
little farther up three men were tugging Hakim up to
the track by the tail. It was a very steep ascent by
stony broken zigzags and ledges to the fairly level top of
a spur of the Kala Kuh range, with a high battlemented
hill behind, at the back of which dwell robber hordes,
and many Seyyids, who pay no tribute, and are generally
feared.

At this open, breezy height of 9200 feet the camps
have been pitched for three days, and of the many
camping-grounds which we have hitherto occupied I like
it the best, so lofty is it, so lonely, so mysterious and
unexplored. It has a glorious view of tremendous
wooded ravines, down which green waters glide or
tumble, of small 1 awn-like plateaux among woods, and
of green peaks in the foreground, and on the other side
of the narrow, sinuous valley, several thousand feet below,

letter xvnx RUMOURS AND EXCITEMENT

67

there is a confused mass of mountains, among which
the snow-slashed southern faces of the peaks of the
Zard Kuh and the grand bulk of a mountain of the
Faidun range, are the most prominent.

Five thousand feet below, reached by a remarkable
track, is Basnoi, a lonely depth, with successive terraces
of figs, pomegranates, and walnuts, dense woods, and a
luxuriant undergrowth of long grass and ferns. Among
them are the remains of an ancient road of good width
and construction, and of a very fine bridge of small blocks
of carefully-dressed stone, with three arches, now ruined,
with fine piers and stone abutments, the centre arch
having a span of sixty feet. The roadway of the bridge
is gone, and a crazy wicker framework is suspended in its
place. The Bakhtiaris attribute these relics of an extinct
civilisation to Shapur, one of the three kings of that name
who reigned in the third and fourth centuries. All these
green waters fall into the Ab-i-Diz.

Before sunset heads of men and barrels of guns were
seen over the rocky cliff behind us. We had been
warned against the outlaw tribes of that region, and had
been told that they were preparing to rob the camp tha t
night with thirty men, and had declared that if they
failed they would dog us till they succeeded. This news
was brought by Aslam Khan’s brother in the afternoon.
I asked Aziz with how much I should reach Burujird,
and he answered, “ It’s well if you take your life there.”

This and a whole crop of other rumours, magnified as
they passed from man to man, produced a novel excite¬
ment in the lonely camps. Hadji buried his money, of
which he had a large sum, and lay down upon it. Rifles
and revolvers were cleaned and loaded, swords and knives
sharpened, voices were loud and ceaseless, and those who
were slightly hurt in the morning’s fray recounted their
adventures over and over again. All dispositions for

68

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

safety were carefully made before night. Hassan, who
has a horse, and large property in good clothes, wanted a
revolver, but was wisely refused, on the ground that to
arm undisciplined men indiscriminately would be to run
a great risk of being ourselves shot in any confusion.
There were then four men with rifles,, five with revolvers,
and Aslam Khan’s brother and two tufangchis with g uns

About eight the Bakhtiari signal-call was several
times repeated, and I wondered if it were foe or friend,
till Aziz’s answering signal rang out loud and clear,
announcing that it was “friends of Isfandyar Khan.”
Shortly I heard, “ the plot thickens,” and the “ friends ”
turned out to be another brother of Aslam Khan, with
four tufangchis and a promise of eight more, who never
arrived. According to these men reliable information
had been received that Khaja Taimur, our friend of
Kalahoma, was sending forty men to rob us on A sl am
Khan’s territory in order to get him into trouble.

This arrival increased the excitement among the men,
who piled tamarisk and the gum tragacanth bush on the
fires most recklessly, the wild, hooded tufangchis and
their long guns being picturesque in the firelight. I am
all but positively sure that the rumour was invented by
Aslam Khan, in order to show his vigilant care of guests,
and secure from their gratitude the much - coveted
possession of an English rifle. Hadji came to my tent,
telling me “ not to be the least afraid, for they would not
harm a lady.” The Agha has a resource for every
emergency, the Sahib is cool and brave, and besides that,
I strongly suspected the whole thing to be a ruse of
Aslam Khan, whom I distrust thoroughly. At all events
I was asleep very early, and was only disturbed twice by
Aziz calling to know if my servants were watching, and
was only awakened at five by the Sahib and the Agha
going past my tent, giving orders that any stranger

letter xviii

OPIUM MADNESS

69

approaching the camp was to be warned off, and was to
be fired upon if he disregarded the warning.

A blissfully quiet day followed the excitement of the
night before. The men slept after their long watch, and
the fighting horses were at a distance. The Agha did
not return, and for a day and night I was the only
European in camp. Aziz Khan, with an English rifle,
a hundred cartridges, and two revolvers in his belt, kept
faithful watch, and to “ make assurance doubly sure ” I
walked through the camp twice during the night to see
that the men on guard were awake.

Before midnight there was a frightful “ row ” for two
hours, which sounded as if fifty men were taking part in
it. I have often wondered at the idiotic things that
Hassan does, and at the hopelessly dazed way in which
he sometimes stands. Now it has come out that he is
smoking more and more opium, and has been supplying
Karim with it.

Mujid, who was formerly the Agha’s cook, has been
promoted to be major-domo , rules the caravan on the
march, heads it on a fine horse, keeps accounts, and is
generally “ confidential” Karim resents all this. He
lately bought a horse because he could not bear to ride
a baggage mule when the other man was well mounted,
and being that night mad with opium, and being armed
both with rifle and revolver, with which he threatened
to kill Mujid, it was only by the united and long-
continued efforts of all the men that bloodshed was
prevented. The next day Hassan destroyed his opium
pipe, and is trying to cure himself of the habit with the
aid of morphia, but he complains of “ agony in the
waist,” which is just the fearful craving which the disuse
of the drug causes.

The Agha encountered very predatory Lurs in the
lower regions. A mule was stolen by two Lurs, then

*70

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

robbed from them by three, who in their turn were
obliged to surrender it to some passing Ilyats, from whom
he recovered it. While he was resting at night he was
awakened by hearing some Lurs who had joined them dis¬
cussing the practicability of robbing him, but when one
told the others that he had found out that “ the Feringhi
has six shots,” they gave it up. At this camp we are only
a few days’ march from classic ground, the ancient Elam
with its capital of Susa, and the remains of so fine a
bridge, with the unusual feature, still to be distinctly traced,
of level approaches, the adjacent ruins, and the tradition
of an old-world route, a broad road having followed the
river-bed to the plains of Lower Elam, all point to an
earlier and higher civilisation. Overlooking the bridge on
the left bank of the Ab-i-Basnoi a large square enclosure,
with large stone slabs inside, was found, which had pro¬
bably been used for a cistern, and outside there were
distinct traces of an aqueduct.

The “ Sang Niwishta ” (inscribed stone), which has
been talked about for a hundred miles, and promised to
be a great discovery, was investigated by a most laborious
march, and turned out a great disappointment. It
was to be hoped, indeed it might have been expected,
that a journey through these, till now unexplored, regions
would have resulted in the discovery of additional records
of the past carved in stone, but such is not the case.

Still, it is something to have learned that even here
there was once a higher civilisation, and that in its day
there was great traffic along the Basnoi road, and that
every route through this Upper Elam, whether from
north, west, or east, from the Persian highlands to the
plains of Arabistan, and the then populous banks of the
Kerkhah, must have passed through the great gap below
Pul-i-KuL

The Gokun, Sahid, Guwa, and any number of other

LETTER XVIII

A BAKHTIARI JUDAS

*71

streams fall into this Ab-i-Basnoi, which is the channel
for the drainage of far-off Faraidan, and after a full-
watered course joins the Ab-i-Burujird, which drains the
plain of Silakhor, the two forming the Ab-i-Diz, on which
the now famous town of Dizful (lit. Pul-i-Diz or Bridge
of Diz) is situated.

Gardan-i-Gunak , July 80 .—On July 17 we retraced
our steps to Padshah-i-Zalaki, and camped on a height
above Aslam Khan’s tents on ground so steep that the
tent floor had to be cut into steps with a spade. Aslam
Khan and others came to meet us, again performing feats
of horsemanship. No sooner were the tents pitched than
the crowd assembled, and it was another noisy and fagging
day. Among the things taken from my tent were an
umbrella, knife, scissors, and most of my slender stock of
underclothing. The scissors and cotton were taken by a
young sister-in-law of the Khan, while I was attending
to a terrible hurt outside. It turns out that Aslam Khan
Jh.as got the Agha’s binocular, and that he told his men
to acquire a small but very powerful telescope which he
coveted. My milk bottle in a leather sling-case has
a likeness to it, and this morning as I was giving a
woman some eye-lotion her son withdrew this, almost
under my eyes!

The Khan’s face is a most faithful reproduction of
that of Judas in Leonardo da Vinci’s “ Last Supper.” He
is so fine-looking that one is surprised that he should
condescend to do small mean things. I sent him the
knife he asked for, and soon he called and asked for a
bigger one. He passed off his handsome daughter, the
wife of Taimur Khan’s son, as his wife, in order to get,
through her, a travelling-clock which he coveted.

They brought a woman to me who might have been
produced from a London slum, ophthalmia in one eye, the
other closed up and black, and behind it and through her

72

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

nose a deep wound, gaping fully an inch, blood caked
thick and black all over her face and matting her hair,
her upper lip cut through, and two teeth knocked out—
a regular hospital case. Her brother, they said, had
quarrelled with her and had thrown stones at her only
the day before, but they had already filled up the
wounds with some horrible paste. I asked Sardah Khan
why the Khan did not have the man thrashed for such
a brutality, and he replied that no one would touch him,
as he had killed three men last winter.

I spent two hours upon the poor creature, and the
relief was so great that her gratitude was profuse, and
the blessings invoked manifold. It was a great pleasure
to me But many things were taken out of the tent
while I sat outside attending to her. The Khan’s brothers,
tufangchis with their long guns, Seyyids with their green
turbans and contemptuous scowl, women, and children
were all pressing upon me, hindering and suffocating me
in a temperature of nearly 100°. They seem to have no
feeling for pain or shrinking from painful spectacles, and
rather to enjoy the groans of the sufferer. Each time a
piece of stone was taken out of the wounds they exclaimed
“ God is great! ” Occasionally, when the crush interfered
with what I was doing, a man beat them with his gun,
or Aziz Khan threw stones at them, but it was useless.

The people tell our men that Kafirs have never before
entered their valley, and that if we were not under the
Shah’s protection they would take all that we have. I
imagine that the difficulties are far greater than I know,
for the Agha, who minimises all danger, remarked last
night that this is a most anxious time, and that he should
be most thankful to get every one out of the country, for
it was impossible to say what a day might bring forth.
All idea of my returning to Julfa is now abandoned.
Bad as it is it is safer to go on.

LETTER XVIII

A SAVAGE PANDEMONIUM

73

As the welcome darkness fell the hillsides near and
far blazed with fires, and Aslam Khan’s camp immediately
below was a very picturesque sight, its thirty-one tents
forming a circle, with the Khan’s two tents in the middle,
each having a fire in front. Supper was prepared in large
pots; the men ate first, then the women, children, and
dogs. The noise suggested pandemonium. The sheep
and goats bleated, the big dogs barked, the men and
women shouted and shrieked all together, at the top of
their voices, rude musical instruments brayed and clanged,
—it sounded diabolical. Doubtless the inroad of the
Peringhis was the topic of talk. Savage life does not
bear a near view. Its total lack of privacy, its rough
brutality, its dirt, its undisguised greed, its unconcealed
jealousies and hatreds, its falseness, its pure selfishness,
and its treachery are all painful on a close inspection.

The following morning early we came up to the Gunak,
the narrow top of a pass in the Kala Kuh range with
an altitude of 10,200 feet, crossing on the way a steep
and difficult snow-slide, and.have halted here for two
days. Marching with the caravan is a necessary pre¬
caution, but a most tedious and fatiguing arrangement.
No more galloping, only a crawl at “ caravan pace,” about
two and a half miles an hour for five, six, or seven hours,
and though one is up at 2.45 it is fully five before the
mules are under way, and meantime one is the centre of that
everlasting crowd which, on some pretext or other, asks
for medicine. If no ailment can be produced at present,
then the request is, “ Give me something from the leather
box, I’ve a cough in the winter,” or an uncovered copper
bowl is brought, the contents of which would evaporate
in a fortnight in this climate, with the plaint, “ I’ve a
brother,” or some other relative, “ who has sore eyes in
spring, please give me some eye-lotion.” Nothing is
appreciated made from their own valuable medicinal herbs.

74

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

“ Eeringhi medicine ” is all they care for, and in their eyes
every Eeringhi is a Hciklm.

I have often wondered that the Moslem contempt for
women does not prevent even the highest chiefs from
seeking a woman’s medical help, hut their own Hakims ,
of whom there are a few, though I have never seen any,
are mostly women, and the profession is hereditary. The
men, they say, are too unsettled to be Hakims . Some of
these women are renowned for their skill as bullet
extractors. If a father happens to have any medical
knowledge he communicates it to his [daughter rather
than to his son. Aziz’s grandmother learned medicine
from a native Indian doctor in Ears, and his mother had
a repute as a bullet extractor. A woman extracted the
three bullets by which he has been wounded. The
“ fees ” are very high, but depend entirely on the cure.
A poor man pays for the extraction of a bullet and the
cure of the wound from fifteen to twenty tumans (from
£5 to £6 :10s.), a rich man from forty to sixty. In all
cases they only give medicine so long as they think there
is hope of recovery, and have no knowledge of any
treatment which can alleviate the sufferings of the dying.
When death seems inevitable they stuff the nose with a
paste made of aromatic herbs.

They dress wounds with an astringent paste made
from a very small gall-nut found on one species of oak.
Eor dyspeptic pains and “ bad blood ” they eat bitumen.
Eor snake-bite, which is common, they keep the bitten
person moving about and apply the back part of live
hens to the wound till the hens cease to be affected, or else
the intestines of a goat newly killed. For rheumatism,
headache, and debility they have no remedies, but for
fever they use an infusion of willow bark, which is not
efficacious. They have great faith in amulets and charms,
and in chewing and swallowing verses of the Koran in

letter XVIII

A CURE FOR COWARDICE

75

case of illness. They are rigid “ abstainers,” and arak is
not to be procured in the Bakhtiari country. This
partly accounts for the extreme and almost startling
rapidity of the healing of surgical wounds.

Ophthalmia, glaucoma, bulging eyeballs, inflamed eyes
and eyelids, eczema, rheumatism, dyspepsia, and coughs
are the prevailing maladies, and among men, bad
headaches, which they describe as periodical and in¬
capacitating, are common. The skin maladies and some
of the eye maladies come from dirt, and the parasites
which are its offspring. Among the common people the
clothes are only washed once a year, and then in cold
water, with the root of a very sticky soap wort. They
attribute all ailments but those of the skin and eyes to
“wind.” Rheumatism doubtless comes from sleeping
in cotton clothing, and little enough of it, on the damp
ground.

There are no sages femmes. Every woman is supposed
to be able to help her neighbour in her hour of need.
Maternity is easy. The mother is often at work the
day after the birth of her child, and in less than a week
regains her usual strength.

Possession by bad spirits is believed in, and cowardice
is attributed to possession. In the latter case medicine is
not resorted to, but a mollah writes a text from the Koran
and binds the paper on the coward’s arm. If this does not
cure him he must visit a graveyard on the night of the
full moon, and pass seven times under the body of one of
the sculptured lions on the graves, repeating an Arabic
prayer.

Tins pass gives a little rest. It is solitary, cold
(the mercury 48° at 10 p.m), and very windy. I appre¬
ciate the comparatively low temperature all the more
because the scenery beyond the Zalaki valley, in which
scorched valleys and reddish rocky ranges are repeated

76

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XVIII

ad nauseam, lies under a blazing sun and in a hot dust
haze like that of the Indian plains. The ridge is only
just wide enough for the camps, and falls down in
abrupt descents to the source of the Ab-i-Sefid. Tre¬
mendous precipices and the naked peaks of the Kala
Kuh surround us, and to the east the Zard Kuh and the
long straight-topped range of the Kuh-i-Gokun (or
Kainu ?), deeply cleft, to allow of the exit of the Ab-i-
Gokun, wall in the magnificent prospect, woods and
streams and blue and violet depths suggesting moisture
and coolness. The ridge has a remarkably rich alpine
flora.

Life is now only a “ struggle for existence ” on the
lower altitudes, with their heat and hubbub; there is
no comfort or pleasure in occupation under 9000 feet.
Here there are only the sick people of the camps to attend
to. The guides and guards all need eye-lotion, one bad
wound needs dressing, and the Khan’s brother has had
fever severely, which is cured, and he offers me as a
present a boy of five years old. Aslam Khan’s face of
Judas is not for nothing, but his brother is beautiful, and
has the face of St. John. I. L. B.

LETTER XIX

THE CAfJON OF ARJANAK

77

LETTER XIX

Camp Shuturun, July 25.

After that uplifted halt, which refreshed the Europeans
hut did not suit the health of the attendants, we de¬
scended, crossed the Zalaki valley and a low ridge,
with populous camps, into the valley of the Mauri Zarin,
where the nomads were busy harvesting, forded the river,
and proceeded up its left bank to a dusty level on which a
deep ravine opens, apparently blocked up by a castellated
and nearly inaccessible rock of great height. At this
place, where the Badush joins the Mauri Zarin, we were
obliged to camp close to some Ilyat tents, which involved
crowds, many demands, much noise, and much vigilance.

We were then in the territory of Mirab Khan, the
chief of the Isawand tribe, between whom and Aslam
Khan there is a blood feud, with most deadly enmity.
He sent word that he was not well, and asked the Agha
to go to see him, which he did, telling him that the
EaJclm would also visit him. Later, taking Mirza and
two guides, I forded and followed up the Ab-i-Arjanak
for two miles by a most remarkable canon. The lower
part of its sides is steep and rocky, though not too steep
for the growth of tamarisk scrub and much herbage, but
above are prodigious conglomerate cliffs, and below, the
river, which narrows to a stream, is concealed by enormous
masses of conglomerate rock. This cleft must be fully
800 feet below the heights which surround it. A ridge

78

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XIX

runs across it at Arjanak, and the river passes under¬
ground.

The village and “ Diz ” 1 of Mirab Khan are reached
by a frightfully steep ascent. Arjanak has been built
for security on some narrow ledges below these colossal
walls. It is a mere eyrie, a collection of rude stone
hovels, one above the other, among which the Khan’s
house is distinguishable only by its lalakhana and larger
size. The paths on the dusty hillside are so narrow
and shelving that I needed a helping hand as well as a
stick to enable me to reach a small, oblong, rug-covered
platform under some willow trees, where Mir ab Khan
received me, with a very repulsive-looking Seyyid scribe
seated by him in front of a samovar and tea equipage,
from which he produced delicious tea, flavoured with
lime-juice. The Khan was courteous, i.e. he rose, and
did not sit down till I did.

He is a most deplorable-looking man, very tall and
thin, with faded, lustreless gray eyes, hollow, sallow che eks ,
and a very lank, ugly, straight-haired beard, light brown
in the middle. He and Khaja Taimur look more like
decayed merchants than chiefs of “ tribes of armed horse¬
men.” I was very sorry for him, for he evidently suffers
much, but then and afterwards he impressed me un¬
favourably, and I much doubt his good faith. He said
he heard I should spend two or three days at Arjanak,
and all he had was mine. He was not "like some
people,” he said, “ who professed great friendship for
people and then forgot all about them. When I make a
friendship,” he said, “it is for ever.” I asked him if
his tribe was at peace. “Peace,” he replied senten-
tiously, “is a word unknown to the Bakhtiaris.” In
fact he has more than one blood feud on hand. He
complained bitterly of the exactions of Persia, and added
1 A “ Diz 55 is a natural fort believed to be impregnable.

LETTER XIX

MIRAB KHAN’S WIVES

79

the conjecture, expressed by many others, that England
would shortly occupy Luristan, and give them equity and
security. Another Khan of some power said to me that
if England were to occupy south-west Persia, he would
help her with 400 horsemen, and added, “ An English fleet
at Basrah, with an English army on board, would be the
best sight which Bakhtiari eyes could see.” 1

I had to hear the long story of the Khan’s complicated
maladies, to look at many bad eyes, and at the wounds of
a poor fellow suffering from snake-bite, who was carried
on another man’s back, and to promise to bring up my
medicine chest the following day, the fame of the “ leather
box ” having reached Arjanak.

On my way I had called at the haram , and the ladies
accompanied me to the durbar , conduct which I think
was not approved of, as they told me the next morning
that they must not go there. After the Agha returned, the
three wives and many other women clustered timidly round
me. Two of them are very bright and pretty, and one, a
Persian, very affectionate in her manner. She held my
hand all the time. There was also a handsome daughter,
with a baby, the discarded wife of a son of the next Khan.
In winter, they said, they amuse themselves by singing,
and playing with their children, and by making a few
clothes, and the Persian embroiders boys’ caps.

Aziz Khan has been irrepressible lately. His Arab
mare is his idol, not because she is a lovable animal and
carries him well, but because she is valuable property.
He fusses about her ceaselessly, and if he were allowed

1 To English people the Bakhtiaris profess great friendliness for England,
and the opinion has been expressed by some well-informed writers that, in
the event of an English occupation of the country, their light horse,
drilled by English officers, would prove valuable auxiliaries. I am
inclined, however, to believe that if a collision were to occur in south¬
west Persia between two powers which shall be nameless, the Bakhtiari
horsemen would be sold to the highest bidder.

80

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER SIX

would arrange the marches and the camping-grounds with
reference solely to her well-being. She is washed from
her nose to the tip of her tail every evening, clothed, and
kept by the camp-fire. She is a dainty, heartless, frivolous
creature, very graceful and pretty, and in character much
like a selfish, spoilt woman.

Unfortunately, in one of the many attempted fights
among the horses, Screw kicked her on the chest and
fore-leg a few days ago, which has made a quarrel between
Hadji, Screw's owner, and Aziz. Now Aziz is making me
a slave to his animal. That night, after a tiring day, I was
sleeping soundly when I was awakened by Aziz saying
I must come to his mare or he would stay behind with
her the next day. This is his daily threat. So I had to
bring her inside my tent, and sleepily make a poultice and
bandage the hurt. I have very little vaseline, and after
putting it twice on the slight graze on her chest, which
it cured, I said, when he asked for it a third time, that I
must keep the rest for men. “ Oh/’ he said, “ she’s of
more value than ten men.” Lately he said, “ I don’t
like you at all, you give me many things, but you don’t
give me money ; and I don’t like the Agha, he doesn’t give
me half enough. I’m going back to-morrow, and then
you’ll be robbed of all your things, and you’ll wish you
had given them to me.”

When I do anything, such as opening a whitlow,
which he thinks clever, he exclaims, “ May God forgive
your sins ! ” This, and “ May God forgive the sins of
your father and mother ! ” are ejaculations of gratitude or
surprise. One day when I had been attending to sick
people for four hours, I asked him which was the more
“meritorious” act, attending to the sick or going on
pilgrimage ? He replied, “ For a Kafir no act is good,”
but soon added, “ Of a truth God doesn't think as we do, I
don’t know.”

LETTER XIX

MOSLEM DEVOTIONS

81

Yesterday he came for plaster, and while I cut it he
saw a padlock pincushion with a mirror front on my bed,
and said, “ You’ve given me nothing to-day, you must
give me that because my mare kicked me. 5 ’ But I like
him. He is a brave fellow, and with a large amount
of the mingled simplicity and cunning of u savage has
a great deal of thought, information, and ability, and
a talk with him is worth having.

Mirab Khan had promised that not only guides but
his son would accompany the Agha, but when I arrived
at his eyrie the next morning it was evident that some¬
thing was wrong, for the Agha looked gloomy, and Mirab
Khan uncomfortable, and as I was dressing the wound of
the snake-bitten man, the former said, “ So far as I can see,
we are in a perfect hornets’ nest.” Neither son nor guides
were forthcoming. It was necessary to use very decided
language, after which the Khan professed that he had
withheld them in order to compel us to be his guests, and
eventually they were produced.

I called again on the ladies, who received me in a sort
of open stable, horses on one side and women on the other,
in a crowd and noise so overpowering that I was obliged
to leave them, but not before I had been asked for needles,
scissors, love philtres, etc. Polygamy, besides being an
atrocious system, is very hard on a traveller’s resources.
I had brought presents for four legitimate wives, but
not for the crowd of women who asked for them. Each
wife wanted to get her present unknown to the others.
Later they returned my visit, and we're most importunate
in their requests.

When I went to say farewell to the Khan I found
him on his knees, bowing his forehead to the earth upon a
Mecca prayer-stone, and he concluded his prayers before
he spoke—not like many of us, who would jump up
ashamed and try to seem as if we never demeaned our-
VOL. II g

82

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XIX

selves by an act of devotion. His village, Diz Arjanak,
has a Diz, or stronghold, with a limited supply of water.
It is the raison d'etre of his residence there. This Diz
consists of a few shelves or cavities, chiefly artificial,
scooped out in the face of the perpendicular cliff above
the village. They are only attainable by a very difficult
climb, have no internal communication, and would not
hold more than 150 people. In one cavity there is a
small perennial spring. * The largest recess is said to be
twelve feet deep by about twenty long, and has a loop-
holed breastwork across the entrance. In case of attack
the Khan and the people provision this hiding-place, and
retire to it, believing it impregnable.

Mirab Khan on this and a later occasion complained,
and apparently with good reason, of grinding exactions
on the part of Persia. The Isawands, like the Magawes
and Zalakis, pay their tribute partly to Burujird and
partly to the Ilkhani. The sum formerly fixed and paid
was 150 tumans . It was raised to 300, which was paid
for two years. Now, he says, this year’s demand (1890)
is for 500.

We left Diz Arjanak rather late in the afternoon,
ascended a valley which opens out beyond it, forded the
green bright waters of the Mauri Zarin, and crossed
beautiful open hillsides and elevated plateaux on its right
bank till we lost it in a highly picturesque gorge. Some
miles of very pleasant riding brought us to a rocky and
dangerous path along the side of a precipice above the
river Badush, so narrow as to involve the unloading of
several mules, and a bad slip and narrow escape on the
part of mine. The scenery is singularly wild and severe.
Crossing the Badush, and ascending a narrow ravine
through which it flows, we camped at its source at the
junction of two wild gullies, where the Sahib, after sundry
serious risks, had already arrived. We did not see a

LETTER XIX

ISCHARYAR

83

single camp after leaving Arjanak, and were quite un¬
molested during a halt of two nights; hut it is an atmo¬
sphere of danger and possible treachery.

Camp Badush, at a height of 9100 feet, though shut
in by high mountains, was cool—a barren, rocky, treeless
spot. A great deal of bituminous shale was lying about,
which burned in the camp-fires fairly well, but with a
black heavy smoke and a strong smell.

The limestone fragments which lay about, on being
split, emitted a powerful odour of bitumen. Farther up
the gully there is a chalybeate spring, and the broken
fragments of the adjacent rocks are much stained with
iron. After a restful halt we retraced our route by a low
path which avoided the difficult precipices above the
Badush, forded it several times, crossed a low pass,
descended to the valley of the Mauri Zarin, forded the
river, and marched for some miles along its left bank, till
the valley opened on great grassy slopes, the skirts of the
rocky spurs which buttress the grand mountain Shuturun,
the “ Camel Mountain,” so called from its shape. It was
a very uninteresting march, through formless gravelly
hills, with their herbage all eaten down, nothing remain¬
ing but tamarisk scrub and a coarse yellow salvia. There
were neither camps nor travellers ; indeed, one need never
look for camps where there is no herbage.

This is a charming camping-ground covered with fine
turf, damp, I fear, and some of the men are “ down ”
with fever and rheumatism. There is space to see who
comes and who goes, and though the altitude is only
8400 feet, last night was quite cool. Ischaryar, Aziz
Khan’s devoted young servant, the gentlest and kindest
Bakhtiari I have seen, became quite ill of acute rheu¬
matism with fever, and felt so very ill and weak that he
thought he was going to die. I sent some medicine to
him, but he would not take it, saying that his master had

84

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XIX

spoken unkindly to him, and he had no wish to live.
However, this morbid frame of mind was overcome by
firm dealing, and Aziz attended to him all night, and
salol, etc., are curing him.

He is the one grateful creature that I have seen
among these Orientals, and his gratitude is in return for
a mere trifle. We were fording a stream one hot day,
and seeing him scooping up water with difficulty in his
hands, I took out my mug for him. Ever since he has
done anything that he can for me. He brings tasteful
little bouquets of flowers, gathers wild cherries, and shows
the little courtesies which spring from a kindly nature.
He said several times to Mirza, “ It isn’t only that the
Khartum gave me the cup, but she took trouble for
me.” It may be imagined what a desert as to grateful
and kindly feeling I am living in when this trifle appears
like an oasis. Hard, cunning, unblushing greed is as
painful a characteristic of the Bakhtiaris as it is of the
Persians.

Hassan is now “ down with fever ” and the opium
craving, and one of the charvadars with fever. The cold
winds of G-unak were too much for them. All day shots
have been heard among the near mountains'. The
Hajwands, a powerful tribe, and the Abdulwands are
fighting about a recent cutting off of a cow’s tail, but the
actual cause of the feud is deeper, and dates farther
back. Aziz Khan wants us to return to Diz Arjanak,
fearing that we may become implicated, and the Agha is
ca llin g him a coward, and telling him to ride back alone.
Bang! Bang! The firing is now close and frequent, and
the dropping shots are varied by straggling volleys. With
the glasses I can see the tribesmen loading and firing on
the crests of the near hills. A great number are en¬
gaged. One tribe has put up a stone breastwork at our
end of the valley, but the enemy is attacking the other.

LETTER XIX

A BATTLE

85

3 p.m. —An hour ago Mirab Khan arrived with a
number of armed horse and footmen. Before he left he
spent, I may say wasted, nearly an hour of my time
again on his maladies, and again wrote down the direc¬
tions for his medicines. Volleys fired very near startled
him into departing, and he rode hastily back to Arjanak,
fearing, as he said, an attack. Nominally, he armed the
guides and the men he left behind, but one of the guns
has neither caps nor powder, and another has only three
caps. All the animals have been driven in.

4 p.m. —A man with grimy arms bare to the elbow
has just run down to the Agha’s camp from the conflict.
He says that his people, who are greatly inferior to the
Hajwands in numbers, thought it was the camp of the
Shah’s revenue collector, and sent him to ask him to
mediate. The Agha expressed his willingness to become
a mediator on certain conditions. There is much excite¬
ment in camp, all the men who are well crowding round
this envoy, who is guilty of saying that fifty men are to
attack our camps to-night.

7.30 p.m.— The Agha, with the Sahib and Aziz Khan,
three brave men mounted and armed with rifles and
revolvers, went to mediate. I went to a knoll in the
valley with some of our men, above which on either side
were hills occupied by the combatants, and a large
number of tribesmen crowned the crest of a hill lying
across the ravine higher up. The firing was frequent,
but at long range, and I was near enough to see that
only one man fell.

Our party rode on till they reached the top of a low
ridge, where they dismounted, reconnoitred, and then
passed out of sight, being fired on by both parties. The
tribesmen kept on firing irregularly from the hill-crests,
occasionally running down the slopes, firing and running
into cover. The Sahib’s tufangchi , who is of Cheragh

86

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XIX

Alfs tribe, asked me, “ Is this the way they fight in
your country,” I asked him if he would not like to be
fighting? and he replied, “Yes, if it-were my quarrel.”
The sun was very bright, the sky very blue, and the
smoke very white as it drifted over the lonely ravine
and burst in clouds from the hill-tops. I saw the com¬
batants distinctly without a glass, and heard their wild
war-shouts. What a matter for regret is this useless
tribal fighting, with its dreary consequences of wailing
women and fatherless children I “ Why don’t the
English come and take us ? Why don’t the English
come and give us peace ? ” are surely the utterances of a
tired race.

After sunset the Agha returned, having so far suc¬
ceeded in his mission that the headmen have promised
to suspend hostilities for to-morrow, but still shots are
fired now and then. I. L. B.

LETTER XX

LAKE IRENE

87

LETTER XX

Lake Irene, July 27.

Yesterday we marched through narrow defiles and along
hillsides to this lake, without seeing a tent, a man, or
even a sheep or goat, following a stream which bears
several names and receives several torrents which burst,
full grown, from powerful springs in the mountain sides
—a frequent phenomenon in this country—from its
source till its entrance into this lake. Its two
sides differ remarkably. On the right bank rise the
magnificent ranges which form Shuturun, broken up
into precipices, deep ravines, and peaks, all rocky and
shapely, and absolutely denuded of soil. The mountains
on the left bank are great shapeless masses of bare gravel
rising into the high but blunt summit of the Sefid Kuh,
with only occasional outcrops of rock; here and there
among the crevices of the rocky spurs of Shuturun the
Juniperus excelsa plants itself; otherwise, on the sun-
scorched gravel only low tamarisk bushes, yellow salvias,
a few belated campanulas, and a very lovely blue Tricho-
desma mollis remain.

On reaching the top of a very long ascent there was
a unique surprise, for below, walled in by precipitous
mountain sides, lies a lake of wonderful beauty, owing
to its indescribable colour. Wild, fierce, and rocky are
the high mountains in which this gem is set, and now
verdureless, except that in some places where their steep

88

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XX

sides enter the water willows and hawthorns find scanty
roothold. Where the river enters the lake there is a
thicket of small willows, and where it leaves it its bright
waters ripple through a wood of cherry, pear, plum, and
hawthorn. A broad high bank of gravel lies across a
part of its lower end, and all seemed so safe and solitary
that I pitched my camp here for Sunday at an unusual
distance from the other camps.

“Things are not what they seem” Two armed
Haj wands visited the camps, shots were heard at intervals
this morning, and in the night some of the watch said
they saw a number of men advancing towards us from
under the bushes. I heard the sharp crack of our own
rifles twice, and the Agha and Sahib calling on every one
to be on the alert; the mules were driven in, and a great
fire was made, but nothing came of it. To-night Mirab
Khan’s guides, who have been with us for some days,
have gone back, journeying at night and hiding in caves
by day for fear of being attacked.

This lovely lake, having no native name, will be
known henceforward geographically as Lake Irene. Its
waters lie in depths of sapphire blue, with streaks and
shallows of green, but what a green ! Surely without a
rival on earth! Were a pea transparent, vivid, full of
points and flashes of interior light, that would be the
nearest approach to the colour, which changes never,
while through the blazing hours the blue of the great
depths in the centre has altered from sapphire to tur¬
quoise, and from turquoise to lapis-lazuli, one end and one
side being permanently bordered round the margin with
liquid emerald. The mountains have changed from rose
to blue, from blue to gray, from gray to yellow, and are
now flushing into pink. It is a carnival of colour, before
the dusty browns and dusty grays which are, to come.

Camp Sarawand , July %9. —To-day’s march has been

LETTER XX

PERSIA PROPER

89

a change from the grand scenery of the Bakhtiari moun¬
tains to low passes and gravelly spurs, which sink down
upon a plain. A blazing hillside ; a mountain of gravel
among others of similar ugliness, sprinkled with camel
thorn and thistles; a steep and long descent to a stream;
ripe wheat on some irrigated slopes; above these the
hundred hovels of the village of Sarawand clinging one
above another to the hillside, their white clay roofs intoler¬
able in the fierce light; more scorched gravel hills breaking
off abruptly, and then a blazing plain, in a mist of dust
and heat, and low hills on the farther side seen through
a brown haze, make up the view from my tent. The
plain is Silakhor in Persia proper, and, nolens volens }
that heat and dust must shortly be encountered in the
hottest month of the year. Meanwhile the mercury is at
105° in the tent.

Outside is a noisy crowd of a mixed race, more
Persian than Lur, row behind row. The Tcetchuda said
if I would stand outside and show myself the people
would be pacified, but the desired result was not
attained, and the crushing and pushing were fearful—
not that the people here or elsewhere are ever rude,
it is simply that their curiosity is not restrained by
those rules which , govern ours. The Agha tried to
create a diversion by putting a large musical box at a
little distance, but they did not care for it. I attempted
to give each woman a card of china buttons, which they
like for sewing on the caps of their children, but the
crush was so overpowering that I was obliged to leave it
to Aziz. Then came the sick people with their many
woes and wants, and though now at sunset they have all
gone, Aziz comes in every few minutes with the laugh of
a lost spirit, bringing a fresh copper bowl for eye lotion,
quite pleased to think of my annoyance at being con¬
stantly dragged up from my writing.

90

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XX

Camp Parwez, July 31 .—We left early in the morn¬
ing, en route for the fort of Yahya Khan, the powerful
chief of the Pulawand tribe, with a tall, well-dressed,
and very respectable-looking man, Bagha Khan, one of
his many fathers-in-law, the father of the present “ reign¬
ing favourite,” as guide. It was a very pretty track,
pursuing sheep-paths over steep spurs of Parwez, and
along the narrow crests of ridges, always with fine views.
On reaching an alpine valley, rich in flowers, we halted
till the caravan approached, and then rode on, the “ we ”
that day being the guide on foot, and the Agha, the S ahi b,
Aziz Khan, Mirza, and myself on horseback in single
file. Three men looked over the crest of a ridge to the
left and disappeared abruptly, and I remarked to Mirza
that this was the most suspicious circumstance we had
yet seen. There was one man on the hill to the right,
with whom the guide exchanged some sentences in patois.

The valley opened out on the stony side of a hill,
which had to be crossed. As we climbed it was crested
with a number of men with long guns. Presently a
number of shots were fired at us, and the reloading of the
guns was distinctly seen. The order was given to “ scatter ”
and proceed slowly. When the first shot was fired Bagha
Khan, who must have been well known to all his tribes¬
men, dodged under a rock. Then came an irregular
volley from a number of guns, and the whistle and thud
of bullets over and among us showed that the tribesmen,
whatever were their intentions, were in earnest. To t-.bia
volley the Agha replied by a rifle shot which passed close
over their heads, but again they reloaded rapidly. We
halted, and Aziz Khan was sent up to parley with them.
No one could doubt his courage after that solitary ascent
in the very face of the guns.

Karim cantered up, anxious to fight, Mujid and
Hassan, much excited, dashed up, and we rode on slowly,

letter XX

“UNDER EIRE

91

Hadji and his charvadars bringing up the caravan as
steadily as if there were no danger ahead. Not a man
showed the “white feather,” though most, like myself,
were “ under fire ” for the first time. When we reached
-the crest of the pass such a wild lot crowded about us,
their guns yet hot from firing upon us. Such queer arms
they had—one gun with a flint lock a century old, with
the “ Tower mark ” upon it, loaded sticks, and long knives.
With much talking and excitement they accompanied us
to this camping-ground . 1

The men varied considerably in their stories. They
were frightened, they said, and fired because they thought
we were come to harm them. At first I was sorry
for them, and regarded them as merely defending their
“ hearths and homes,” for in the alpine valley behind the
hill are their. black tents, their families, their flocks
and herds—their world, in fact. But they told another
story, and said they took us for a party of Hajwands.
This was untenable, and the Agha told them that they
knew that Hajwands do not ride on English saddles, and
carry white umbrellas, and march with big caravans of
mules. To me, when they desired my services, they
said that had they known that one of the party was a
Hakim they never would have fired.

1 This untoward affair ended well, hut had there been bloodshed on
either side, had any one of us been killed, which easily might have been,
the world would never have believed but that some offence had been given,
and that some high-handed action had been the cause of the attack. I
am in a position to say, not only that no offence was given, but that here and
everywhere the utmost care was taken not to violate Baklitiari etiquette,
or wound religious or national susceptibilities ; all supplies were paid for
above their value ; the servants, always under our own eyes, were friendly
but reserved; and in all dealings with the people kindness and justice
were the rule. I make these remarks in the hope of modifying any harsh
judgments which may be passed upon any travellers who have died un¬
witnessed deaths at the hands of natives. There are, as in our case,
absolutely unprovoked attacks.

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LETTER XX

Later, from Hadji and others I have heard what I
think may he the true version of the affair. They knew
that the party was a small one—only three rifles; that
on the fifteen baggage-animals there were things which
they specially covet, the value of which rumour had
doubtless magnified a hundredfold; and that we had
no escort. Behind were a number of the Sarawand men,
and the Pulawands purposed, if we turned back or showed
the “white feather ” in any way, to double us up between
the two parties and rob the caravan at discretion. The
Agha was obliged to speak very severely to them, telling
them that firing on travellers is a grave offence, and
deserves as such to be represented to the Governor of
Buriijird. I cannot acquit the demure-looking guide of
complicity in this transaction.

At this height of 9400 feet there is a pleasant plain,
on which our assailants are camped, and our camps are
on platforms in a gully near the top of Parwez. It is
all very destitute of springs or streams, and we have only
snow-water, and that only during the hot hours of the
day, for ourselves and the animals.

The tribes among which we are now are powerful and
very predatory in their habits. Them loyalty to the
Ilkhani is shadowy, and their allegiance to the Shah
consists in the payment of tribute, which cannot in all
eases be exacted. Indeed, I think that both in Tihran
and Isfahan there is only imperfect information as to
the attitude of the Bakhtiari Lurs. Their unification
under the rule of the Ilkhani grows more and more
incomplete as the distance from Isfahan increases, and
these tribes, which are under the government of Burujird
nominally, are practically not under the Tlkhani at all.
Blood feuds, predatory raids, Khans at war with each
other, tribal disputes and hostilities, are nearly universal.
It is not for the interest of Persia to produce by her mis-

letter XX

A PICTURESQUE MESSAGE

93

rule and intrigues such a chronic state of insecurity as
makes the tribes desire any foreign interference which
will give them security and rest, and relieve them from
the oppressive exactions of the Persian governors.

On a recent march I was riding alone in advance of the
caravan when I met two men, one mounted, the other
on foot. The pedestrian could not have been passed
anywhere unnoticed. He looked like a Sicilian brigand,
very handsome and well dressed, walked with a long
elastic stride, and was armed with a double-barrelled gun
and two revolvers. He looked hard at me, with a jolly
but not unfriendly look, and then seeing the caravan,
passed on. This was Jiji, a great robber Khan of the
Hajwand tribe, whose name inspires much fear. After¬
wards he met Aziz Khan, and sent this picturesque mes¬
sage : “ Sorry to have missed you in my own country, as I
should have liked to have left you standing in your skins.”

I went up the Kuh-i-Parwez with Bagha Khan, the
guide of whom I have such grave suspicions, in the early
morning, when the cool blue shadows were still lying in
the ravines. Parwez, which on this side is an uninterest¬
ing mountain of herbage-covered gravelly slopes, falls
down 4300 feet to the Holiwar valley on the other in
a series of tremendous battlemented precipices of dark
conglomerate rock.

The level summit of Parwez, though about 11,000
feet in altitude, is as uninteresting as the shapeless slopes
by which we ascended it, but this dip on the southern side
is wonderful, and is carried on to the gap of Bahrain,
where it has a perpendicular scarp from its summit to
the river of 5000 feet, and as it grandly terminates the
Outer range, it looks like a glorious headland abutting on
the Silakhor plain.

As a panoramic view it is the finest I have had from
any mountain, taking in the great Shuturun range—the

94

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XX

wide cultivated plain of Silakhor, with its many villages;
the winding Ab-i-Diz, its yellow crops, hardly distinguish¬
able from the yellow soil and hazy yellow hills whose
many spurs descend upon the plain—all merged in a
haze of dust and heat. The eye is not tempted to
linger long upon that specimen of a Persian summer
landscape, but turns with relief to the other side of the
ridge, to a confused mass of mountains of great height,
built up of precipices of solid rock, dark gray, weathered
into black and denuded of soil, a mystery of chasms, rifts,
and river-beds, sheltering and feeding predatory tribes,
but unknown to the rest of the world.

The chaos of mountain summits, chasms, and pre¬
cipices is very remarkable, merging into lower and less
definite ranges, with alpine meadows at great heights,
and ravines much wooded, where charcoal is burned and
carried to Burujird and Hamadan. Among the salient
points of this singular landscape are the mighty Shuturun
range, the peak of Kuh-i-Kargun on the other side of the
Silakhor plain, the river which comes down from Lake
Irene, the Holiwar, with the fantastic range of the Kuh-
i-Haft-Kuh (seven peaks) on its left bank, descending
abruptly to the Ab-i-Zaz, beyond which again rises the
equally precipitous range of the Kuh-i-Ruhbar. Near
the Holiwar valley is a mountain formed by a singular
arrangement of rocky buttresses, surmounted by a tooth¬
like rock, the Tuk-i-Karu, of which the guide told the
legend that in “ ancient times ” a merchant did a large
trade in a tent at the top of it, and before he died buried
his treasure underneath it.

A very striking object from the top is the gorge or
canon, the Tang-i-Bahrain, by which the Ab-i-Burujird
leaves the plain of Silakhor and enters upon its rough
and fretted passage through ravines, for the most part in¬
accessible except to practised Ilyat mountaineers.

LETTER XX

A DIFFICULT PROBLEM

95

“Had I come up to dig for the hidden treasure of
Tuk-i-Karu ? ” the guide asked. “ Was I seeking gold ?
Or was I searching for medicine plants to sell in
Feringhistan ? ”

The three days here have been rather lively. The in¬
formation concerning routes has been singularly contra¬
dictory. There is a path which descends over 4000 feet
to the Holiwar valley, through which, for’certain reasons,
it is desirable to pass. Some say it is absolutely impass¬
able for laden mules, others that it can be traversed with
precautions, others again that they would not take even
their asses down; that there are shelving rocks, and that

if a mule slipped it would go down to -. Hadji

with much force urges that we should descend to the plain,
and go by a comparatively safe route to Khuramabad, leave
the heavy baggage there, and get a strong escort of sowars
from the Governor for the country of the Pulaw r ands.
There is much that is plausible in this plan, the Sahib
approves of it, and the Agha, with whom the decision
rests, has taken it into very careful consideration, but I
am thoroughly averse to it, though I say nothing.

Hadji says he cannot risk his mules on the path
down to the Holiwar valley. I could have filled pages
with the difficulties which have been grappled with during
the last few weeks of the journey as to guides, routes,
perils, etc., two or three hours of every day being occu¬
pied in the attempt to elicit truth from men who, from
either inherent vagueness and inaccuracy or from a de¬
liberate intention to deceive, contradict both themselves
and each other, but on this occasion the difficulties have
been greater than ever; the order of march has been
changed five times, and we have been obliged to remain
here because the Agha has not considered that the in¬
formation he has obtained has warranted him in coming
to a decision.

96

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LETTER XX

Yesterday evening the balance of opinion was definitely
against the Holiwar route, and Hadji was so vehemently
against it that he shook a man who said it was passable.
This morning the Sahib with a guide and Abbas Ali
examined the road. The Sahib thought it was passable.
Abbas Ali said that the mules would slip off the shelving
rocks. All day long there have been Lur visitors, some
saying one thing, and some another, but a dream last
night reconciled Hadji to take the route, and the Agha
after carefully weighing the risks all round has decided
upon it.

All these pros and cons have been very interesting,
and there have been various little incidents. I have had
many visitors and “ patients 55 from the neighbouring
camp, and among them three of the men who fired upon
us.

The trifle of greatest magnitude was the illness of
Aziz’s mare, the result of a kick from Screw. She had
an enormous swelling from knee to shoulder, could not
sleep, and could hardly eat, and as she belongs partly to
Isfandyar Khan, Aziz Khan has been distracted about
her, and has distracted me by constant appeals to me to
open what seemed an abscess. I had not the courage
for this, but it was done, and the cut bled so profusely
that a pad, a stone, and a bandage had to be applied.
Unfortunately there was no relief from this venture, and
Aziz “ worrited ” me out of my tent three times in the
night to look at the creature. Besides that, he had
about twenty ailing people outside the tent at 6 A.M.,
always sending to me to “ come at once.”

He was told to wash the wound, but he would do
nothing till I* went out with my appliances, very
grudgingly, I admit. The sweet animal was indeed
suffering, and the swelling was much increased. A
number of men were standing round her, and when I

LETTER XX

TEMPTING OFFERS

97

told Aziz to remove the clot from the wound, they
insisted that she would bleed to death, and so the pros
and cons went on till Aziz said, “ The Khanum shall do
it, these Feringhi Hakims know everything.” To be re¬
garded as a Hakim on the slenderest possible founda¬
tion is distressing, but to be regarded as a “ vet ” without
any foundation at all is far worse.

However, the clot was removed, and though the
wound was three inches long there was still no relief,
and Aziz said solemnly, “ How do what you think best.”
Very gradual pressure at the back of the leg brought out
a black solid mass weighing fully a pound. *' God is
great! ” exclaimed the bystanders. " May God forgive
your sins ! ” cried Aziz, and fell at my feet with a genuine
impulse of gratitude. He insists that “ a pound of flesh ”
came out of the swelling. The wound is now syringed
every few hours, and Aziz is learning how to do this,
and to dress it. The mare can both eat and sleep, and
will soon he well.

This evening Aziz said that fifteen tumans would be
the charge for curing his mare, and that, he says, is my
present to him. He told me he wanted me to consider
something very thoroughly, and not to answer hastily.
He said, “We’re a poor people, we have no money, but
we have plenty of food. We have women who take out
bullets, but in all our nation there is no Hakim who
knows the wisdom of the Feringhis. Your medicines are
good, and have healed many of our people, and though a
Kafir we like you well and will do your bidding. The
Agha speaks of sending a Hakim among us next year,
but you are here, and though you are old you can ride,
and eat our food, and you love our people. You have
your tent, Isfandyar Khan will give you a horse of pure
pedigree, dwell among us till you are very old, and be
our Hakim , and teach us the wisdom of the Feringhis.”

YOL. II II

98

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LETTER XX

Then, as if a sudden thought had struck him, he added,

“ And you can cure mules and mares, and get much money,
and when you go back to Feringhistan you’ll be very rich.”

In nearly every camp I have an evening “ gossip ”
with the guides and others of the tribesmen, and, in the
absence of news from the larger world, have become
intensely interested in Bakhtiari life as it is pictured for
me in their simple narratives of recent forays, of grow¬
ing tribal feuds and their causes, of blood feuds, and of
bloody fights, arising out of trivial disputes regarding
camping-grounds, right of pasture, right to a wounded
bird, and things more trivial still. They are savages at
heart. They take a pride in bloodshed, though they say
they are tired of it and would like to live at peace, and
there would be more killing than there is were it not for
the aversion which some of them feel to the creation of a
blood feud. When they do fight, “ the life of a man is as
the life of a sheep,” as the Persian proverb runs. Mirza
says that among themselves their talk is chiefly of guns
and fighting. The affairs of the mountains are very
interesting, and so is the keen antagonism between the
adherents of the Ilkani and those of Isfandyar Khan.

Sometimes the conversation takes a religious turn. I
think I wronged Aziz Khan in an earlier letter. He is
in his way much more religious than I thought him. A
day or two ago I was asking him his beliefs regarding a
future state, which he explained at much length, and
which involve progressive beatitudes of the spirit through
a course of one hundred years. He laid down times and
seasons very definitely, and was obviously in earnest,
when two Magawe men who were standing by broke in
indignantly, saying, “ Aziz Khan, how dare you speak
thus ? These things belong to’God, the Judge, He knows,
we don’t—we see the spirit fly away to judgment and
we know no more. God is great, He alone knows,”

LETTER XX

BURIAL RITES

99

Apparently they have no idea generally of a future
except that the spirit goes either to heaven or hell,
according to its works in the flesh. Some say that they
are told that there is an intermediate place called BarjaJch,
known as the place of evil spirits, in which those who
have died in sin undergo a probation with the possibility
of beneficent results.

On asking what is meant by sin the replies all have
the same tendency,—cowardice, breaches of the seventh
commandment (which, however, seem to be so rare as
scarcely to be taken into account, possibly because of the
death penalty attaching to them), disobedience to a chief
when he calls on them to go to war, fraternising with
Sunnis, who are “accursed,” betraying to an enemy a
man of their own tribe, and compassing the death of
another by poison or evil machinations.

On being asked what deeds are good, bravery is
put first, readiness to take up a tribal quarrel, charity, ie.
kindness to the poor, undying hatred to the Caliph
Omar, shown by ostracising the Sunnis, hatred of Kafirs,
and pilgrimages, especially to Mecca.

Death in battle ensures an immediate entrance into
heaven, and this is regarded as such a cause of re¬
joicing that not only is the chapi or national dance per¬
formed at a fighting man's grave, but if his death at a
distance has been lawful, i.e. if he has been killed in
fighting, they put up a rude temporary cenotaph with his
gun, cap, knife, pipe, and other things about it, and
dance, sing, and rejoice.

Otherwise their burial rites are simple. The corpse
is washed seven times in water, certain Arabic formulas
for the repose of the soul are recited, and the body,
clothed and wrapped in a winding-sheet, is carried by
four men to the burying-place on a bier extemporised out
of 'tent-poles, and is buried in a shallow grave. It is

100

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XX

not customary now to rejoice at the graves of women
or old men, unless the latter have been distinguished
warriors.

So far as I can learn, even in the case of the deaths
of fighting men, when the chapi is danced at the grave,
the women keep up the ordinary ceremonial of mourning,
which is very striking. They howl and wail, beating
their breasts rhythmically, keeping time with their feet,
tearing their hair and gashing their faces with sharp flints,
cutting off also their long locks and trampling upon them
with piteous cries. This last bitter token of mourning
is confined to the deaths of a husband and a first-born son,
and the locks so ruthlessly treated are afterwards attached
to the tombstone.

Mourning for a husband, child, or parent lasts a year,
and the anniversary of the death is kept with the same
ceremonies which marked the beginning of the period of
mourning. In the case of a great man who has died
fighting, the women of his tribe wail and beat their
breasts on this anniversary for many subsequent years.

Nothing is buried with the corpse, and nothing is
placed on the grave, but it is the universal custom to
put a stone at the head of the body, which is always
buried facing Mecca-wards. To this position they attach
great importance, and they covet my compass because it
would enable them at any point to find the position of
the Kiblah. A comb or distaff rudely carved on a
woman’s headstone, and the implements of war or hunt¬
ing on that of a man, are common, and few burial-places
are without one or more of the uncouth stone lions to
which frequent reference has been made.

The graveyards are very numerous, and are usually
on small elevations by the roadside, so that passers-by, if
they be Hadjis, may pray for the repose of the soul.
It must be understood that prayer consists in the repeti-

letter xx BAKHTIARI RELIGION 101

tion of certain formulas in Arabic, which very few if any
of these people understand. 1

As to the great matter of their religion, on which I
have taken infinite trouble to gain information, I can
come to no satisfactory conclusion. I think that they
have very little, and that what they have consists in a
fusion of some of the tenets of Islam with a few relics
of a nature worship, not less rude than that of the Ainos
of Yezo and other aboriginal tribes.

They are Shiahs, that is, they hate the Sunnis, and
though the belief in Persia that they compel any one
entering their country to swear eternal hatred to Omar is
not absolutely correct, this hate is an essential part of
their religion. They hold the unity of God, and that
Mohammed was His prophet; but practically, though they
are not Ali Ilahis, they place Ali on as high a pedestal as
Mohammed. They are utterly lax in observing the precepts
of the Koran, even prayer at the canonical hours is very
rarely practised, and then chiefly by Seyyids and Hadjis.
It has been said that the women are devout, but I think
that this is a mistake. Many of them have said to me,
“ Women have no religion, for women won't live again.”

Those of the Khans who can read, and who have
made pilgrimages to Mecca, such as the Hadji Ilkhani,
Khaja Taimur, and Mirab Khan, observe the times of
prayer and read the Koran, and when they are so en¬
gaged they allow of no interruption, but these are
remarkable exceptions.

Pilgrimages and visits to imamzadas are lightly
undertaken, either for the accumulation of merit, or to
wash away the few misdeeds which they regard as sin, or
in the hope of gaining an advantage over an enemy.

They regard certain stones, trees, hill-tops, and springs
as “ sacred,” but it is difficult to define the very vague
1 See Appendix A.

102

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LETTER XX

ideas which they attach to them. I am inclined to think
that they look on them as the abodes of genii, always
malignant, and requiring to be propitiated. In passing
such places they use a formula equivalent to “ May God
avert evil” and it is common, as in Nubra and Ladak,
to hang pieces of rag on such trees and stones as offerings
to the genius loci.

They regard certain places as possibly haunted by
spirits, always evil, and never those of the departed; but
this can scarcely be termed a belief, as it is lightly held,
and quite uninfluential, except in preventing them from
passing such places alone in the darkness.

The opinions concerning God represent Him chiefly as
a personification of a fate, to which they must bow, and
as a Judge, to whom, in some mysterious way, they must
account after death. Earthly justice appears to them
as a commodity to be bought and sold, as among the
Persians, or as it is among themselves, as severity solely,
without a sentiment of mercy; and I have asked
them often if they think that anything will be able to
affect the judgment of the Judge of all, in case it should
go against them. Usually they reply in the negative,
but a few say that Ali, the Lieutenant of God, will ask
for mercy for them, and that he will not be refused.

Of God as a moral being I think they have little
conception, and less of the Creator as an object of love.
Of holiness as an attribute of God they have no idea.
Their ejaculation, “ God is good,” has really no meaning.
Charity, under the term “ goodness,” they attribute to
God. But they have no notion of moral requirements
on the part of the Creator, or of sin as the breaking of
any laws which He has laid down. They concern them¬
selves about the requirements of religion in this life and
about the future of the soul as little as is possible, and
they narrow salvation within the limits of the Shiah sect.

LETTER XX

RELIGIOUS IGNORANCE

103

After Mohammed and Ali they speak of Moses, Abra¬
ham, and Jesus as “ Prophets,” but of Moses as a law¬
giver, and of Jesus as aught else but a healer, they seem
quite ignorant.

And so they pass away, generation after generation,
ignorant of the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood
of man, of the love to God and man which is alone the
fulfilling of the law, and of the light which He, who is
the resurrection and the life, has shed upon the destiny
of the human spirit.

Generally I find them quite willing to talk on these
subjects; but one man said contemptuously, “What
has a Kafir to do with God ? ” The women know
nothing, and, except among the sons of the leading
Khans, there is no instruction in the Koran given to
the children. If I have interpreted their views correctly
they must be among the most ignorant of the races bound
by the faith of Islam.

Khuramabad, August 6 .—Leaving the camp on
Parwez, and skirting the gravelly slopes on the north side
of its ridge, a sudden dip over the crest took us among
great cliffs of conglomerate, with steep gravelly slopes
below, much covered with oaks growing out of scorched
soil. Grooves, slides, broken ledges, and shelving faces
of rock have to be descended. One part is awfully bad,
and every available man and some passing Bakhtiaris (who
wanted to be paid in advance for their services) went
back to help the animals. The charvadars shouted and
yelled, and the horses and some of the mules were taken
by their heads and tails, but though nearly every man
had a fall, horses, asses, mules, and a sheep which follows
Hakim got over that part safely. It was a fine sight,
thirty animals coming down, what looked from below, a
precipice, led by Hadji leading Cock o' the Walk, shak¬
ing his tasselled head, and as full of pride and fire as

104

.JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XX

usual, and the mules looking wisely, choosing their way,
and leaping dexterously upon and among the rocks. .
It is not a route for laden animals, hut personally, as I
had two men to help me, I did not find it so risky or
severe as the descent of the Gokun Pass.

Below these conglomerate precipices are steep and
dangerous zigzags, which I was obliged to ride down,
and there we were not so fortunate, for Hadji’s big saddle-
mule slipped, and being unable to recover herself fell
over the edge some hundred feet and was killed instant¬
aneously.

The descent of the southern face of Parwez, abrupt
and dangerous most of the way, is over 4300 feet. The
track proceeds down the Holiwar valley, brightened by
a river of clear green water, descending from Lake Irene.
Having forded this, we camped on its left bank on a
gravelly platform at the edge of the oak woods which I
clothe the lower spurs of the grand Kuh-i-Haft-Kuh,
with a magnificent view of the gray battlemented pre¬
cipices of Parwez. The valley is beautiful, and acres of
withered flowers suggested what its brief spring loveli¬
ness must be, but its altitude is only 5150 feet, and the
mercury in the shade was 104°, the radiation from the
rock and gravel terrible, and the sand-flies made rest
impossible. At midnight the mercury stood at 90°.
There were no Bakhtiaris, but two or three patches of
scorched-up wheat, not worth cutting, evidenced their
occasional presence. Among these perished crops, revel¬
ling in blazing soil and air like the breath of a furnace,
grew the blue centaurea and the scarlet poppy, the
world-wide attendants upon grain; and where other
things were burned, the familiar rose-coloured “ sweet
william,” a white-fringed dianthus, and a gigantic yellow
mullein audaciously braved the heat.

Ho one slept that night because of the sand-flies and

LETTER XX

A FERTILE BASIN

105

the need for keeping a vigilant watch. Indeed, the tents
were packed shortly after sunset, and in a hot dawn we
ascended to a considerable height above the valley, and
then for many mil es followed a stream in a wooded glen,
where willows, planes, vines, rank grass, and a hand¬
some yellow pea grew luxuriantly, looped together con¬
tinually by the fragile Clematis orientalis. All that
country would be pretty had it moisture and “atmo¬
sphere” The hillsides are covered with oaks and the
Paliurus aculeatus on their lower slopes, rising out of
withered flowers. All else is uncut sun-cured hay, and
its pale uniform buff colour is soft, and an improvement
on the glare of bare gravel.

Delays, occasioned by the caravan being misled by the
guide, took us into the heat of the day, and before the
narrow valley opened out into the basin surrounded by
wooded spurs of hills in which Khanabad stands, it was
noon. Men and animals suffered from the heat and
length of that march. In the middle of this basin there
is a good deal of cultivation, and opium, wheat, cotton,
melons, grapes, and cucumbers grow well. Rice has
already succeeded wheat, and will be reaped in November.
Kalla Khanabad, the fort dwelling of Yahya Khan, with
terraces of poplars, mulberries, pomegranates, and apricots
below it, makes a good centre of a rather pretty view.
Leaving it on the right we turned up a narrow valley
with a small stream and irrigation channels, and close to
a spring and some magnificent plane trees camped for
Sunday on a level piece of blazing ground where the
mercury stood at 106° on both days. This spot was
remarkable for some very fine erynyiums growing by the
stream, with blossoms of a beautiful “ French blue,” the
size of a Seville orange.

The Khan’s son, a most unprepossessing young man,
called on me, and I received him under the trees, a

106

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XX

number of retainers armed with long guns standing round
the edge of the carpet. He was well dressed, but a
savage in speech and deportment. As to the dress of
the Bakhtiaris, the ordinary tribesmen wear coarse cotton
shirts fastening at the side, but generally unfastened, blue
cotton trousers, each leg two yards wide, loose at the
bottom and drawn on a string at the top, webbing shoes,
worsted socks if any, woollen girdles with a Kashmir
pattern, and huge loose brown felt coats or cloaks with
long sleeves, costing from fifteen to twenty-five hrans each,
and wearing for three or four years. The Khans fre¬
quently have their slmlwars of black silk, and wear
the ordinary Persian full-skirted coat, usually black, but
“for best” one of fine blue or fawn cloth. All wear
brown or white felt skull-caps, and shave their heads for a
width of five inches from the brow to the nape of the
neck, leaving long side-locks. The girdle supplies the
place of pockets, and in it are deposited knives, the pipe,
the tobacco-pouch, the flint and steel, and various etceteras.

Every man carries a long smooth-bore gun slung
from his left shoulder, or a stout shillelagh, or a stick
split and loaded at one end (the split being secured with
strong leather), or all these weapons of offence and defence
at once.

These very wide shulwars, much like the “ divided
garment,” are not convenient in rough walking, and on
the march a piece of the hem on the outer side is tucked
into the girdle, producing at once the neat effect of
knickerbockers.

The men are very well made. I have never seen
deformity or lameness except from bullet wounds. They
are not usually above the middle height, though that is
exceeded by the men of the Zalaki tribe. They are
darker than the Persians. As a general rule they have
straight noses, with very fully expanded nostrils, good

LETTER XX

WOMEN’S DRESS

101

mouths, thin lips, straight or slightly curved eyebrows,
dark gray or black eyes, hazel in a few instances, deeply
set, and usually rather close together, well-developed fore¬
heads, small ears, very small feet, and small hands with
tapering fingers. The limbs below the knee are remark¬
ably straight and well-developed, and the walk is always
good.

It is not easy to say how the women are made, as
their clothing gives no indications of form. They are
long-limbed, and walk with a firm, even, elastic stride.
They are frequently tall, and except when secluded are
rarely stout. Their hands and feet are small. Their
figures are spoilt (if they ever had any) by early maternity
and hard work. At twenty a woman looks past forty.
Many, perhaps it is not an exaggeration to say most, of
them have narrowly escaped being handsome. Fine eyes,
straight noses, and well-formed mouths with thin lips
are the rule. The hair is always glossy and abundant,
and the teeth of both sexes are white, regular, and healthy-
looking, though toothache is a painfully common ailment.

The women’s dress in the “ higher classes ” is much
like that worn by the ordinary Persian women, with the
exception of what I have elsewhere called “balloon
trousers,” but the hard-working tribesmen’s wives are
clothed in loose blue cotton trousers drawn in at the
ankles, short open chemises, and short open jackets. A
black or coloured kerchief covers the head, the ends hang¬
ing down behind or in front. They wear loose woollen
shoes with leather soles. The dress is not pretty or
picturesque, and is apt to be dirty and ragged, but it
suits their lives and their hard work.

Both sexes stain the finger-nails and the palms of
the hands with henna, and all wear amulets or charms
suspended round the neck, or bound on the upper part of
the arm. These consist of passages from the Koran,

108

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XX

which are written on parchment in very small characters,
and are enclosed in. cases of silver or leather.

At night they merely take off the outer garment
where they have two. The scanty ablutions are very
curious. Each family possesses a metal jug of rather
graceful form, with a long spout curiously curved, and
the mode of washing, which points to an accustomed
scarcity of water, is to pour a little into the palm of the
right hand, and bathe the face, arms, and hands with it,
soap not being used. They conclude by rinsing the
mouth and rubbing the teeth either with the forefinger
or with the aromatic leaf of a small pink salvia.

I called by appointment on the Khan’s wives, sixteen
in number. An ordinary tribesman marries as many
wives as he can afford to house and keep. Poverty and
monogamy are not allied here. "Women do nearly all the
work, large flocks create much female employment, and
as it is “ contrary to Bakhtiari custom ” to employ female
servants who are not wives, polygamy is very largely
practised. On questioning the guides, who are usually
very poor men, I find that they have two, three, and
even four wives, the reverse of what is customary among
the peasants of Turkey and Persia proper. The influence
of a chief increases with the number of his wives,
as it enlarges his own family connections, and those
made by the marriages of his many sons and daughters.
Large families are the rule. Six children is the average
in a monogamous household, and the rate of infant
mortality is very low.

The “ fort ” is really picturesque, though forlorn and
dirty. It is built on the steep slope of a hill, and on one
side is three stories in height. It has a long gallery in
front, with fretwork above the posts which support the
roof, round towers at two of the corners, and many
irregular roofs, and steep zigzags cut in the rock lead up

letter XX A POLYGAMOUS HOUSEHOLD 109

to it. The centre is a quadrangle. When I reached the
gateway under the tower many women welcomed me,
and led me down a darkish passage to the gallery afore¬
said, which has a pretty view of low hills, with mulberries
and pomegranates in the foreground. This gallery runs
the whole length of the fort, and good rooms open upon
it. It was furnished with rugs upon the floor, and two
long wooden settees, covered with checked native blankets
in squares of Indian yellow and madder red.

I had presents for the favourite wife, but as one man
said this was the favourite, and another that, and the
hungry eyes of sixteen women were fixed on the parcels,
I took the safer course of presenting them to the Khan
for the “ladies of the andarun.” Yahya Khan sent to
know if it would be agreeable to me for him to make his
salaam to me, a proposal which I gladly accepted as a
relief from the curiosity and disagreeable familiarity of
the women. There was a complete rabble of women in
the gallery, with crawling children and screaming babies—
a forlorn, disorderly household, in which the component
parts made no secret of their hatred and jealousy of each
other.

I pitied the Khan as he came in to this Babel of
intrig uing women and untutored children—of women
without womanliness and children without .innocence—
the lord and master of the women, but not in any noble
sense their husband, nor is the house,’ or any polygamous
house, in any sense a home.

The wife who, I was afterwards told, is the “ reign¬
ing favourite ” sat on the same settee as her lord, and he
ignored the whole of them. Her father, Bagha Khan,
asked me to give into his care the present for her, lest it
should make the other wives jealous.

Yahya Khan rules a large part of the Pulawand tribe,
1000 families, and aspires to the chieftainship of its

110 JOURNEYS IN PERSIA letter xx

subdivisions, among which are the Bosakis, Hajwands,
Isawands, and Hebidis, numbering 2800 families. 1

He is a tall, big, middle-aged man with a very wide
mouth, and a beard dyed auburn with henna—very

« YAHYA KHAN.

intelligent, especially as regards his own interests, and
very well off, having built his castle himself.

He asked me if I thought England would occupy
south-west Persia in the present Shah’s lifetime ? Which

1 I am inclined to estimate the Bakhtiari population at a higher figure
than some travellers have given. I took forty-three men at random from
the poorest class and from various tribes, and got from them the number
of their families, wives and children only being included, and the average
was eisrht to a household.

LETTER XX

PERILOUS TOPICS

m

has the stronger army, England or Prussia ? Why
England does not take Afghanistan ? Did I think the
Zil-es-Sultan had any chance of succeeding his father?
but several times reverted to what seemed uppermost in
his mind, the chances of a British occupation of Southern
Persia, a subject on which I was unwilling to enter.
He complained bitterly of Persian exactions, and said
that the demand made on him this year is exactly
double the sum fixed by the Amin-es- Sultan.

It is not easy to estimate the legitimate taxation.
Probably it averages two tumans, or nearly fifteen shil¬
lings a family. The assessment of the tribes is fixed, but
twenty, forty, and even sixty per cent extra is often taken
from them by the authorities, who in their turn are
squeezed at Tihran or Isfahan. Every cow, mule, ass,
sheep, and goat is taxed. Horses pay nothing.

In order to get away from perilous topics, which had
absolutely no interest for the women, I told him how
interested I was in seeing all his people clothed in blue
Manchester cottons, though England does not grow a tuft
of cotton or a plant of indigo. I mentioned that the
number of people dependent on the cotton industry in
Britain equals the whole population of Persia, and this
made such an impression on him that he asked me to
repeat it three times. He described his tribe as prosper¬
ous, raising more wheat than it requires, and exporting
1000 tumans’ worth of carpets annually.

It is curious that nomadic semi-savages should not only
sow and harvest crops, and make carpets of dyed wool, as
well as goat’s-hair rugs and cloth, horse-furniture, Jchur-
jins, and socks of intricate patterns, but that they should
understand the advantages of trade, and export not only
mules, colts, and sheep, but large quantities of charcoal,
which is carried as far as Hamadan; as well as gaz, gall-
nuts, tobacco, opium, rice, gum mastic, clarified butter, the

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skins of the fox and a kind of marten, and cherry sticks
for pipes.

Certainly the women are very industrious, rising at
daylight to churn, working all day, weaving in the inter¬
vals, and late at night boiling the butter in their big
caldrons. They make their own clothes and those of
their husbands and children, except the felt coats, sewing
with needles like skewers and very coarse loosely-twisted
cotton thread. They sew backwards, i.e . from left to
right, and seem to use none but a running stitch. Every¬
where they have been delighted with gifts of English
needles and thread, steel thimbles, and scissors.

When it is remembered that, in- addition to all the
“ household ” avocations which I have enumerated, they
pitch and strike tents, do much of the loading and un¬
loading of the baggage, and attend faithfully to their
own offspring and to that of their flocks and herds, it will
be realised that the life of a Bakhtiari wife is sufficiently
laborious.

We were to have left that burning valley at 11 P.M.,
and when I returned at dusk from the fort the tents
were folded and the loads ready for a moonlight march,
but Yahya Khan sent to say that for the ostensible
reason of the path being greatly obstructed by trees we
could not start till daylight. Later he came with a
number of tribesmen and haggled noisily for two hours
about the payment of an escort, and the sheep a day which
it would require. It was not a comfortable night, for the
sand-flies were legion, and we did not get off till 4.30,
when we were joined by Yahya ELhan and his son, who
accompanied us to the Pul-i-Hawa.

The path from Kalla Khanabad runs at a consider¬
able elevation on wooded hillsides and slopes of shelv¬
ing rock, only descending to cross some curious ribs of
conglomerate and the streams which flow into the Ab-i-

LETTER XX

A TWIG BEIDGE

113

Diz. There are frequent glimpses of the river, which has
the exquisite green colour noticeable in nearly all the
streams of this part of Luristan. At a distance of a few
miles from Khanabad the valley, which has been pretty
wide, and allows the river to expand into smooth green
reaches, narrows suddenly, and the Ab-i-Diz, a full, strong
stream, falls in a very fine waterfall over a natural dam
or ledge of rock, which crosses it at its broadest part, and
is then suddenly compressed into a narrow passage be¬
tween cliffs and ledges of bituminous limestone, the lowest
of which is a continuation of the path which descends
upon it by some steep zigzags.

Below this gorge the river opens out into a smooth
green stretch, where it reposes briefly before starting on
a wild and fretted course through deep, chasms among
precipitous mountains, till it emerges on the plains above
Dizful. These limestone cliffs exude much bitumen, and
there is a so-called bituminous spring. Our men took
the opportunity of collecting the bitumen and rolling it
into balls for future use, as it is esteemed a good remedy
for dyspepsia and “ bad blood.”

At the narrowest part of its channel the river is
crossed by a twig bridge wide enough for laden animals,
supported on the left bank by some tree-stems kept steady
by a mass of stones. In the middle it takes a steepish
upward turn, and hangs on to the opposite cliff at a con¬
siderable elevation. The path up from it to the top of
the cliff is very narrow, and zigzags by broken ledges
between walls of rock. Tor loaded animals it is a very
bad place, and the caravan took an hour and a half to
cross, though only four mules were unloaded, the rest
being helped across by men at their heads and tails.
Several of them fell on the difficult climb from the
bridge. It would be bad enough if the roadway of
osiers were level, but it shelves slightly to the south.

VOL. II T

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LETTER XX

That gorge is a very interesting break in an unin¬
teresting and monotonous region, and the broad fall
above the bridge is not without elements of grandeur.
The altitude of the river over which the Pul-i-Hawa hangs
is only 3800 feet, the lowest attained on this journey.

The popular nomenclature is adopted here, but it

A TWIG BRIDGE.

would be more accurate to call this stream the Ab-i-
Burujird, and to defer conferring the name of Ab-i-Diz
upon it till the two great branches have united far below
this point. These are the Ab-i-Burujird, rising to the
west of Burujird, which with the tributaries which enter
it before it reaches the Tang-i-Bahrain, drains the great
plain of Silakhor, and the Ab-i-Basnoi, a part of which
has been referred to under its local name of Kakulistan,
or “ the Curl,” which drains the upper part of the Persian

letter XX

THE AB-I-DIZ

115

district of Earaidan, and receives the important tributaries
of the G-uwa and the G-okun before its junction with
the Ab-i-Burujird. A tributary rising in the Kuh-i-
Bang has been locally considered the head-water of the
Ab-i-Diz.

Leaving the Ab-i-Diz, the path pursues valleys with
streams and dry torrent-beds, much wooded with oak and
hawthorn, with hills above, buff with uncut sun-cured hay,
magnificent pasturage, but scantily supplied with water.

The belut, or oak, grows abundantly in these valleys,
and on it is chiefly collected the deposit called gaz , a
sweetish glaze upon the leaf, which is not produced every
year, and which is rather obscure in its origin. When
boiled with the leaves it forms a shiny bottle-green mass,
but when the water is drained from them and carefully
slammed, it cools into a very white paste which, when
made up with-rose-water and chopped almonds, is cut
into blocks, and is esteemed everywhere. It is mentioned
by Diodorus Siculus. 1 The unwatered valleys are wooded
with the Paliurus aculeata chiefly, and the jujube tree
(Zizyphus vulgaris ), which abounds among the Bakhtiari
mountains.

The heat was frightful, and progress was very slow,
owing to the low projecting branches of trees, which de¬
layed the baggage and tore some of the tents. In places
the path was further obstructed by a species of liana
known in New Zealand as “ a lawyer,” with hooked thorns.

We passed by the steep ledgy village of Shahbadar,
on the roofs of which I rode inadvertently, till the shouts
of the people showed me my error, and encamped on
the only available spot which could be found, a steep,
bare prominence above a hollow, in which is a spring
surrounded by some fine plane trees. The Shahbadar
people live in their village for three winter months only,
1 Book xvii. c. viii.

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LETTER XX

and were encamped above ns, and there were two large
camps below. Men from each of them warned ns to
beware of the others, for they were robbers, and there
was a great deal of dexterous pilfering, which reduced my
table equipments to a copper mug, one plate, and a knife
and fork. My shuldari was torn to pieces, and pulled
down over me, by a lively mule which cantered among
the tent ropes.

The afternoon, with the mercury at 103°, was spent
in entertaining successive crowds, not exactly rude, but
full of untamed curiosity. I amused them to their com¬
plete satisfaction by letting them blow my whistle, fill
my air-cushion, and put the whalebones into my col¬
lapsible basins. One of Milward’s self-threading needles,
which had luckily been found in my carpet, surprised
them beyond measure. Every man and woman insisted
on threading it with the eyes shut, and the ketchuda of
one camp offered to barter a sheep for it. They said
that my shabby tent, with its few and shabby equip¬
ments, was “ fit for God! ”

The camps passed on that day were constructed of
booths made of stems of trees with the bark on, the roofs
being made of closely-woven branches with the leaves
on. These booths are erected round a square with mat
walls, and face outwards, a sort of privacy being obtained
by backs of coarse reed mats four feet high, and mat
divisions between the dwellings. The sheep, goats, and
cattle are driven into the square at night through a
narrow entrance walled with mats.

Since leaving the Karun very few horses have been
seen, and the few have been of a very inferior class.
Even Yahya Khan, who has the reputation of being rich,
rode a horse not superior to a common pack animal. The
people we have been among lately have no horses or mares,
the men walk, and the loads are carried on cows and asses.

LETTER XX

DOMESTIC ANIMALS

117

In the greater part of this country I have not seen
a mule, with the exception of some mule foals on a high
pass near Ali-kuh. The Bakhtiaris breed mules, however,
and sell them in Isfahan in the spring, but rarely use
them for burden. They breed horses in some places,
exporting the colts and keeping the fillies. Their horses
are small and not good-looking, but are wiry and enduring,
and as surefooted as mules. In fact they will go any¬
where. One check on the breeding of good horses is
that, when a man has a good foal, he is often compelled
to make a present of it to any superior who fancies it.

The horses are shod, as in Persia proper, with thin
iron plates covering nearly the whole hoof, secured by six
big-headed nails. Reared in camps and among children,
they are perfectly gentle and scarcely require breaking.
A good Bakhtiari horse can be bought for £6 or £8.
A good mule is worth from £7 to £11. Asses are
innumerable, and are used for transporting baggage,
equally with oxen and small cows. A good donkey can
be bought for 30 s.

The goats are very big and long-haired. The sheep,
which nearly always are like the goats brown or black,
and very tall, are invariably of the breed with the great
pendulous tails, which sometimes weigh nearly eight
pounds. They give a great deal of milk, and it is on
this, not on cows’ milk, that the people rely for the
greater part of their food, their cheese, curds, mast,
and roglian.

The goat-skins are invaluable to them. They use
them for holding water and milk, and as churns for their
butter. They make all their tents, their tent carpets,
and their sacks for holding wool of goat’s-hair, woven on
rude portable looms.

The female costume changed at Shahbadar. The
women now wear loose garments like nightgowns, open

118

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LETTER XX

to the waist, and reaching from the neck to the feet, and
red trousers, tight below the knee, but rarely visible
below the outer dress. Their notion of ornament con¬
sists in having a branch or frond tattooed up the throat.

These tribes breed cattle extensively. One camp
possessed over 300 young beasts. The calves are
nourished by their mothers up to two years old. They
have a few white angora goats of great beauty, but the
majority are black and are valued chiefly for their milk
and for their long coarse hair.

A march through fierce heat at a low level brought
us at noon to the village of Imamzada-i-Mamil. The
road, after continuing along the same wooded valley,
which in a happier climate would be called a glen,
emerges on scenery truly " park -like,” softly - outlined
hills covered with buff grass, and wooded on their gently-
curved slopes with oak and hawthorn, fringing off into
clumps and single trees. Smooth broad valleys, first of
buff pasture, and then of golden wheat or green maize,
lie among the hills. All is soft and lowland, and was
bathed that day in a dreamy blue heat haze. Not a
mountain rose above the gently-curved hills which were
painted in soft blue on the sky of the distant horizon.
The natural wood ceased. The surroundings underwent
an abrupt change. Is it a change for the better, I
wonder ? Three months and a week have been spent in
zigzagging among some of the loftiest mountains and
deepest valleys of Persia, and they now lie behind, among
the things that were. In fact, Khuramabad, from which
I write, is not only out of the Bakhtiari country, but the
Bakhtiari Lurs are left behind, and we are among the
fierce and undisciplined tribes of the Feili Lurs.

The baggage animals were not dubious, as I am, as to
the advantages of the change. When we reached the
open, Cock o’ the Walk threw up his beautiful head,

LETTER XX

A STAMPEDE

119

knocked down the man who led him, and with a joyous
neigh set off at a canter, followed by all the mules and
horses, some cantering, some trotting, regardless of their
loads, and regardless of everything, proceeding irrespon¬
sibly, almost knocking one out of the saddle by striking
one with the sharp edges of yehdans and tent poles, till
they were headed off by mounted men, after which some
of them rolled, loads and all, on the soft buff grass.
This escapade shows what condition they are in after
three months of hard mountain work.

Reaching the village at noon, we halted till moonrise
at midnight on an eminence with some fine plane and
walnut trees upon it above a stream which issues from
below an imamzada on a height, and passes close to a
graveyard. Possibly this contaminates the water, for
there has been a great outbreak of diphtheria, which has
been very fatal. It is quite a small village, but thirteen
children suffering from the most malignant form of the
malady, some of them really dying at the time, were
brought to me during the afternoon, as well as some
people ill of what appeared to be typhoid fever. One
young creature, very ill, was carried three miles on her
father’s back, though I had sent word that I would call
and see her at night. She died a few hours later of the
exhaustion brought on by the journey. The mercury
that afternoon reached 103° in the shade.

Soon after midnight the mules were silently loaded,
and we “ stole silently away,” to ride through the terri¬
tory of the powerful Sagwands, a robber tribe, and reached
this place in eight hours, having done twenty-two and a
half miles. It was a march full of risk, through valleys
crowded with camps, and the guide who rode in front was
very much frightened whenever the tremendous barking
of the camp dogs threatened to bring robbers down on
us in the uncertain light. The caravan was kept in

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LETTER XX

steady order, and the rearguard was frequently hailed by
the leader. Nothing happened, and when day broke we
were in open russet country, among low, formless gravelly
hills, with the striking range of rocky mountains which
hems in Khuramabad in front, under a hazy sky.

Later, fording the Kashgan, I got upon the Burujird
caravan road, along which are telegraph poles, and on
which there was much caravan traffic. Recrossing the
Kashgan, but this time by a good two-arched bridge of
brick on stone piers, the Yafta Kuh came in sight,
and Khuramabad with its green gardens, its walls of
precipitous mountains, and its ruined fort on an isolated
and most picturesque rock in the centre of the town—a
very striking view.

Khuramabad, before the fourteenth century, was called
Diz Siyah, or the black fort, and was the capital of the
Atabegs, the powerful kings who reigned in Luri-Kushuk
from ad. 1155 to about ad. 1600. Sir H. Rawlinson
does not regard any of its remains as earlier than the
eleventh or twelfth century.

The camps are outside the town, on a stretch of
burning gravel, with some scorched pasture beyond it, on
which are Ilyat camps, then there are divers ranges of
blackish and reddish mountains, with pale splashes of
scorched herbage when there is any at all. Behind my
tent are a clump of willows, an irrigating stream, large
gardens full of fruit trees and melons, and legions of
mosquitos.

Circumstances have changed, and the surroundings
now belong to the showy civilisation of Persia. As I
was lying under the trees, quite “ knocked up ” by the
long and fatiguing night’ march and the great heat, I
heard fluent French being spoken with a good accent.
The Hakim of the Governor had called. Cavalcades of
Persians on showy horses gaily caparisoned dashed past

LETTER XX

THE NIZAM-UL-KHILWAR

121

frequently. Ten infantrymen arrived as a guard and
stacked their arms under the willows, and four obsequious
servants brought me trays of fruit and sweetmeats put
up in vine leaves from the Governor. Melons are a drug.
The servants are amusing themselves in the bazars. It
is a bewildering transition.

The altitude is only 4050 feet, and the heat is awful—
the heat of the Indian plains without Indian appliances.
When the men took up stones with which to hammer Idle
tent pegs they dropped them “ like hot potatoes.” The
paraffin candles melt. Milk turns sour in one hour.
Even night brings little coolness. It is only heat and
darkness instead of heat and light.

I was too much exhausted by heat and fatigue to
march last night, and rested to-day as far as was possible,
merely going to pay my respects to the Governor of
Luristan, the Nizam-ul-Khilwar, and the ladies of his
haram. The characteristics of this official’s face are
anxiety and unhappiness. There was the usual Persian
etiquette—attendants in the rear, scribes and mollahs
bowing and kneeling in front, and tea and cigarettes in
the pretty garden of the palace, of which cypresses, pome¬
granates, and roses are the chief features. Mirza was
not allowed to attend me in the andarun , but a munshi
who spoke a little very bad French and understood less
stood behind a curtain and attempted to interpret, but
failed so signally that after one or two compliments I
was obliged to leave, after ascertaining that a really
beautiful girl of fourteen is the “ reigning favourite.”
The women’s rooms were pretty, and the women them¬
selves were richly but elegantly dressed, and graceful in
manner, though under difficulties. After a visit to the
ruined fort, an interesting and picturesque piece of
masonry, I rode unmolested through the town and bazars.

Khuramabad, the importance of which lies in its

122

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LETTER XX

situation on what is regarded as the best commercial route
from Shuster to Tihran, etc., is the capital of the Peili
Lurs and the residence of the Governor of Luristan.
Picturesque at a distance beyond any Persian town that
I have seen, with its citadel rising in the midst of a
precipitous pass, its houses grouped round the base, its
fine bridge, its wooded gardens, its greenery, and the
rich valley to the south of the gorge in which it
stafids, it successfully rivals any Persian town in its
squalor, dirt, evil odours, and ruinous condition. Two-
thirds of what was “the once famous capital of the
Atabegs” are now “ruinous heaps.” The bazars are
small, badly supplied, dark, and rude; and the roads are
nothing but foul alleys, possibly once paved, but now
full of ridges, holes, ruins, rubbish, lean and mangy
dogs, beggarly-looking men, and broken channels of
water, which, dribbling over the soil in the bazars and
everywhere else in green and black slime, gives forth
pestiferous odours in the hot sun.

The people slouch about slowly. They are evidently
very poor, and the merchants have the melancholy
apathetic look which tells that “ trade is bad.” The
Peili Lurs, who render the caravan route to Dizful in¬
cessantly insecure, paralyse the trade of what should
and might be a prosperous “ distributing point,” and the
Persian Government, though it keeps a regiment of
soldiers here, is unsuccessful in checking, far less in
curing the chronic disorder which has produced a nearly
complete stagnation in trade.

I am all the more disappointed with the wretched
condition of Khuramabad because the decayed state of
its walls is concealed by trees, and it is entered by a
handsome bridge 18 feet wide and 900 long, with
twenty-eight pointed arches of solid masonry, with a fine
caravanserai with a tiled entrance on its left side. The

LETTER XX

A SEYYID CAMP

123

Bala Hissar is a really striking object, its pile of ancient
buildings crowning the steep mass of naked rock which
rises out of the dark greenery and lofty poplars and
cypresses of the irrigated gardens. This fort, which is in
ruins, encloses within its double walls the Wali’s palace
and other official buildings, and a fine reservoir, 178 feet
by 118, fed by a vigorous spring. In the gardens by
the river, north of the fort, are some remains of the walls
and towers of the ancient Atabeg capital, and there are
also ruins of an aqueduct and of an ancient bridge, of
which ten arches are still standing. The most interesting
relic, however, is a round tower sixty feet high in fairly
good preservation, with a Kufic inscription round the top.

It is said that there are 1200 houses in Khuramabad,
which would give it a population of over 7000. It has
been visited by several Englishmen for purposes of trade
or research, and it has doubtless made the same impres¬
sion upon them all as it does upon me.

Burujird , August 9 .—A night march of twenty-two
miles through perilous country brought us in blazing heat
to an encampment of Seyyids of the Bairanawand tribe,
fine-looking men, showing in their haughty bearing their
pride in their illustrious lineage, but not above depriving
us during the night of many useful articles. Their camp
had three streets of tents, in front of which oxen were
treading out wheat all day long. These Seyyids have
much wealth in mares and oxen. Again we started at
moonrise for what was regarded as a dangerous march,
a party of Sagwands having gone on ahead, with hostile
intentions, it was said.

However, nothing happened, and nothing was heard
except the shouts of our own charvadars and the pande¬
monium made by the simultaneous barking of huge dogs
in the many camps we passed but could not see. We
rode through cultivated valleys full of nomads, forded the

124

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XX

placid Bawali, and at dawn were at the foot of the gr an d
pass of Handawan, 7500 feet in altitude, which is
ascended by steep zigzags over worn rock ledges, and the
dry boulder-strewn bed of a torrent. A descent of 2000
feet and a long ride among large formless hills took us to
a narrow gorge or chasm with a fine mountain torrent, and
thence to the magnificent Tang-i-Buzful, from which we
emerged with some suddenness on the slopes of the low
foot-hills on the north side of the plain of Burujird or
Silakhor.

This very rich plain, about thirty miles long by from
six to eight broad, has been described as “ waterlogged,”
and the level of the water is only a foot below the sur¬
face. Certainly veiy numerous springs and streams rise
along the hill slopes which we traversed and flow down
into the plain, which is singularly flat, and most of it only
relieved from complete monotony by the villages which,
to the number of 180, are sprinkled over it, many of
them raised on artificial mounds, at once to avoid the
miasma from the rice-fields and as a protection from the
Lurs. Above the south-eastern end rises the grand bulk
of Shuturun Kuh, with a few snow-patches still lingering,
and towards the other lies the town of Burujird, the
neighbourhood of which for a few miles is well planted,
but most of the plain is devoid of trees. It is watered
by many streams, which flow into the Burujird river
and the Kamand-Ab, which uniting, leave the plain by
the magnificent Tang-i-Bahrain.

The first view, on emerging from the buff treeless
mountains, was very attractive. The tall grass of the
rich marshy pastures rippled in the breeze in wavelets of
a steely sheen. Brown villages on mounds contrasted
with the vivid green of the young rice. Towards Burujird,
of which nothing but the gilding of a dome was visible,
a mass of dark greenery refreshed the eyes. The charm

LETTER XX

A WATEBED GABDEN

125

of the whole was the contrast between the “ dry and
thirsty land where no water is ” and abundant moisture,
between the scanty and scorched herbage of the arid
mountains and the “ trees planted by the rivers of water,”
but I confess that the length and overpowering fatigue of
that thirty-three miles’ march, much of it in blazing heat,
following on three nights without sleep, soon dulled
my admiration of the plain. Hour after hour passed
on its gravelly margin, then came melon beds, files of
donkeys loaded with melons in nets, gardens of cucum¬
bers and gourds, each with its “ lodge,” irrigation channels,
dykes, apricot and mulberry orchards, lanes bordered
with the graceful elcegnus , a large and busy village, where
after a very uncertain progress we got a local guide, and
then a low isolated hill, crowned by a dwelling arranged
for security, and a liberally planted garden, a platform
with terraced slopes and straight formal walks, a terrace
with a fine view, and two tanks full of turtles (which
abound in many places) under large willows, giving a
pleasant shade. Between them I have pitched my
tents, with the lines of an old hymn constantly occurring
to me—

“ Interval of grateful shade,

Welcome to my weary head.”

Burujird, one and a half mile off, and scarcely seen
above the intervening woods, gives a suggestion of civilisa¬
tion to the landscape. In the sunset, which is somewhat
fiery, Shuturun and the precipices of the Tang-i-Bahrain
are reddening.

The last three marches have been more severe than
the whole travelling of the last three months. Happy
thought, that no call to “ boot and saddle ” will break
the stillness of to-morrow morning! I. L. B.

126

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LETTER XXI

LETTER XXI

Burujird, Aug. 16 .

A WEEK has glided away since I sent my last diary letter,
with only two events of direct personal interest, one being
that I have bought a young, powerful little Bakhtiari
horse, which has been in camp since we left the Karun
river, a dark bay, with black points, big feet, a big ugly
head, and big flopping ears, but otherwise passably good-
looking, an unsuspicious animal, brought up in tent life,
with children rolling about among his feet, and as yet
quite ignorant that man can be anything but his friend.
I intend to look after his well-being, but not to make a
pet of him.

The other event occurred on the morning after our
arrival, and took the place of the “ boot and saddle ” call,
for I was awakened very early by a hubbub round my
tent, the interpretation of which was that a packing case
in three compartments, containing my cooking utensils,
remaining table equipments, and stores, had been carried
off before daylight, deposited in an adjacent plantation,
broken open, and emptied. Thus I was left with
nothing, and have been unable to get anything in the
bazars here except two cooking pots and a tin teapot of
unique construction made to order. The few other things
which I still regard as absolute necessaries, a cup, plate,
knife, fork, and spoon, have been lent me by the Agha.
All my tea is gone, the worst loss of all.

LETTER XXI

NEWS FROM THE HILLS

127

Later in the day Hassan came in a quiet rage, saying
that he would leave for Isfahan at once, because Mirza
had accused him of not keeping an efficient watch, and
shortly afterwards Mahomet Ali and his handsome
donkey actually did leave. 1 Burujird bears a very bad
reputation. Here, last year, a young English officer was
robbed of his tents and horses, and everything but the
clothes he wore.

The Governor, on hearing of the theft, said I should
not have “ camped in the wilderness/' the ff wilderness ”
being a beautifully kept garden with a gardener (who
was arrested) and a house. For the last week a guard of
six soldiers has watched by day and night.

The news received from the JBakhtiari country is
rather startling. Mirab Khan, who looked too ill and
frail for active warfare, sent a messenger with a letter to
Khaja Taimur, urging him to join him in an attack on
Aslam Khan. The letter was intercepted by this “ Judas/’
and now the country from Kalahoma to Khanabad is in
a flame. Serious troubles have broken out in this plain,
all the Khans of the Sagwand tribe having united to rise
against the payment of a tribute which they regard as
heavy enough to “ crush the life out of the people.”
The Hakim has telegraphed for troops, and the governor
of Luristan is said to be coming with 500 men.

A “ tribute insurrection,” on a larger or smaller scale,
is a common autumnal event. The Khans complain of
being oppressed by “ merciless exactions.” They say that
the tribute fixed by the Shah is “ not too much,” but that
it is doubled and more by the rapacity of governors, and
that the people are growing poorer every year. They
complain- that when they decline to pay more than the

1 I have since heard that this youth was an accomplice of a Burujird
man in this theft, and of an Armenian in a robbery of money which
occurred in Berigun.

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LETTER XXI

tribute fixed by the Amin-es-Sultan, soldiers are sent,
who drive off their mares, herds of cattle, and flocks
to the extent of three, four, and five times the sum
demanded.

These few words contain the substance of statements
almost universally made. There is probably another side,
and they may be true in part only. The tribesmen of
Silakhor state that they had protested and appealed in
vain before they decided on resistance. Every TOian
with whom I have conversed has besought me to lay
his case before the “ English Vakil ” at Tihran.

This widely-diffused belief in England as the redresser
of wrongs is very touching, and very palatable to one’s
national pride. All these people have heard of the way
in which the cultivators in India have been treated, of
“land settlements” and English “settlement officers,”
and they say, “ England could make everything right
for us.” So she could, “ an she would ”! As the
governors pay large sums for offices from which they
are removable at the Shah’s pleasure, and as the lower
officials all pay more or less heavily for their positions,
we may reasonably infer that all, from the highest to the
lowest, put on the screw, and squeeze all they can out of
the people, over and above the tribute fixed at Tihran.
Near views of Oriental despotisms are as disenchanting
as near views of “the noble savage,” for they contain
within themselves the seeds of “all villainies,” which
rarely, if ever, fail of fructification.

Mirza Karim Khan, the Governor of Burujird, called
a few days ago, a young harassed-looking man, with very
fine features, but a look of serious bad health. He
complained so much that the Agha asked his attendant,
a very juvenile Hakim, speaking a little scarcely in¬
telligible French, if he would object to the Governor
taking something from the famous “leather box,” and

letter XXI THE GOVERNOR OF BURUJIRD

129

the effect was so magical that the next day he looked a
different man.

An arrangement was made for returning the visit,
and he received us in a handsome tent in a garden, with
the usual formalities, but only a scribe and the Hakim
were present. A sowar, sent from Burujird with a letter
to the Sahib, was undoubtedly robbed of his horse, gun,
and some of his clothing en route. Very quietly the
Governor denied this, but as he did so I saw a wink
pass between the scribe and Hakim. It was a pitiable
sight,—a high official sitting there, with luxuries about
him, in a city with its walls, embankments, and gates
ruinous, the brickwork in the palace gardens lying in
heaps, his province partially disturbed, the people rising
against what, at the least, are oppressive exactions,
raising an enormous tribute, from which there is no
outlay on province or city, government for the good of
the governed never entering into his (as rarely into any
other Oriental) mind.

This evening he has made a farewell visit on the
terrace, attended by the Hakim. Aziz Khan stood on
the edge of the carpet, and occasionally interjected a
remark into the conversation. I have before said that
1^ has a certain gentlemanliness and even dignity, and
his manner was neither cringing nor familiar. The
Hakim , however, warned him not to speak in presence
of the Governor, a restraint which, though very different
from the free intercourse of retainers with their chiefs
among the Bakhtiari, was in strict accordance with the
proprieties of Persian etiquette. Aziz stalked away,
shaking his wide skulwars , with an air of contempt.
“ This governor,” he afterwards said, “ what is he ? If
it were Isfandyar Khan, and he were lying down, my
head would be next to his, and twenty more men would
be lying round him to guard his life with ours.”

VOL. II

K

130

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXI

It seems as if Burujird were destitute of cavalry, at
least of no.en who can be spared, though it has been
stated that a whole cavalry regiment is in garrison. 1

The Governor promised three escorts; my modest
request was for one sowar , and a very unmilitary-looking
horseman has arrived for me, but now, within an hour of
marching, the others are without even one!

Attended by the Hakim and an escort, we rode yester¬
day through Burujird. To write that a third of it is in
ruins is simply to write that it is a Persian town. It
has crumbling mud walls, said to be five miles in circum¬
ference, five gates in bad repair, and a ditch, now par¬
tially cultivated.

It is situated in Lat. 33° 55' N, and its Long, is 48°
55' E. Its elevation is 4375 feet [Bell]. Its popula¬
tion is estimated at from 12,000 to 18,000, and includes
a great many Seyyids and mollahs. It has a Persian
Telegraph Office and Post Office, neither of them to be
depended upon, six large and very many small mosques, a
number of mosque schools, thirty-three public baths, and
six caravanserais. It manufactures woollen goods, carpets,
and the best arak to be found in Persia. It also pro¬
duces dried fruits and treacle made from grapes.

The bazars are large, light, and well supplied with
European goods, Eussian and English cottons in
enormous quantities, Austrian kerosene lamps of all
descriptions and prices, Eussian mirrors, framed
coloured engravings of the Eussian Imperial family,
Eussian ' samovars , tea-glasses and tea-trays, Eussian
sewing and machine cotton, American sewing machines,
Eussian woollen cloth, fine and heavy, Eussian china,

1 Throughout the part of Persia in which I have travelled I have observed
a most remarkable discrepancy between the numbers of soldiers said to
garrison any given place, and the number which on further investigation
turned out to be actually there. It is safe to deduct from fifty to ninety
per cent from the number in the original statement!

LETTER XXI

THE BAZARS OF BURUJIRD

131

and Russian sugar-loaves, to the sale of which several
shops are exclusively devoted.

Persian manufactures are chiefly represented by
heavy cottons, dyed and stamped at Isfahan, carpets,
saddles, horse and mule furniture, copper cooking utensils,
shoes of all makes, pipes, kalians , rope, ornamented
travelling trunks, galon, gimps, tassels of silk and wool,
and “small wares” of all kinds, with rude pottery, oil jars,
each big enough to contain a man, great water-jars, small
clay bowls glazed roughly with a green glaze, guns,
swords, pistols, long knives, and the tools used by the
different trades.

Altogether the bazars look very thriving, and they
were crowded with buyers. Possibly the people have
rarely if ever seen a Feringhi woman, and they crowded
very much upon me, and the escort drove them off in
the usual fashion, with sticks and stones. Though much
of Burujird lies in ruins it has a fair aspect of prosperity
and 1 some very good houses and new buildings. The
roads are cobbled with great stones, and are certainly not
worse than those of the older parts of Tihran. Water is
abundant.

Nature evidently intends Burujird to be a prosperous
city. The pasturage of the plain is magnificent, and the
rich soil produces two crops a year. All cereals flourish.
Wheat and barley ripen in July. Seven sorts of grapes
grow, and ripen in August and September, and some of
the clusters are finer than any of our hothouse produce.
Water and musk melons, tobacco, maize, gourds and
cucumbers, beans, the Iringal or egg plant, peas, flax and
other oil seeds, rice and cotton, apricots, walnuts, pome¬
granates, and peaches testify to the excellence of the soil
and climate.

Not only is Burujird in the midst of an exceptionally
fine agricultural district, but it is connected by caravan

132

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXI

routes with the best agricultural and commercial regions
of Persia to the north, east, and west by easy roads, never
snow-blocked, or at least they never need be if there were
traffic enough to keep them open. It is only 130 miles
from rich Kirmanshah, 90 from the fertile district which
surrounds Hamadan, 60 from Sultanabad, the most im¬
portant carpet-producing region of Western Persia, and
rich besides in grain and cotton, 140 from Kum, on the
main road from Isfahan to Tihran, something about 230
from Tihran, and only 310 from Ahwaz.

These routes are all easy, though, so far as I know
them, very badly supplied with caravanserais, except on the
main road between the two capitals. The southern road,
leading through Khuramabad to Dizful and Shuster, has
no great natural difficulties, though part of it lies through
a mountainous region. Some blasting and much boulder¬
lifting would, according to Colonel Bell, remedy the evils
of the fifty miles of it which he regards as bad. But,
apart from this, the Shuster - Burujird route, the most
natural route for north and south-western Persian com¬
merce to take to and from the sea, is at present useless
to trade from its insecurity, as the Feili Lurs, through
whose territory it passes, own no authority, live by
robbery when they have any one to rob, and are always
fighting each other.

There are no regular charvadars in Burujird, and
many and tedious have been the difficulties in the way
of getting off. Up to last night I had no mules, and
Hadji said mournfully, “ When you learn what other char -
vadars are like, you’ll think of me.” I have taken leave
of Aziz Khan with regret. He echoes the oft-repeated
question, “Why does not England come and give us
peace ? In a few years we should all be rich, and not.
have to fight each other.” . “ Stay among us for some
years,” he said, “ and you will get very rich. What have

LETTER XXI

AZIZ KHAN’S FAREWELL

133

you to go back to in FeringMstan ? ” He asked me for
a purse, and to put some Jcrans in it for Ms children,
but not to give him any money. He said that when he
asked for money and other things he was only in fun.
I do not know whether to believe him.

Mirza and my caravan started this morning, and now,
4 P.M., I am leaving with the sowar , with the mercury
at 90°, for the first march of a journey of 800 miles.

I. L. B.

134

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXII

LETTER XXII

Ham ad an, Aug. 28.

It was as I thought. The sowar sent with me was only
a harmless peasant taken from the plough, mounted on
his own horse, and provided with a Government gun.
The poor fellow showed the “ white feather ” on the first
march, and I was obliged to assert the “ ascendency of
race ” and ride in front of him. The villagers at once
set him down as an impostor, and refused him supplies,
and as his horse could not keep up with mine, and the
road presented no apparent perils, I dismissed him at the
end of three days with a largesse which gladdened his
heart. He did not know the way, and the afternoon I
left Burujird he led me through ploughed fields and along
roadless hillsides, till at the end of an hour I found my¬
self close to the garden from which I started.

The early part of the first march is over great bare
gravelly slopes without water. Then come irrigation and
villages. The hills have been eaten nearly bare. Nothing
remains but a yellow salvia and the beautiful Eryngium
cceruleim. There, as in the Bakhtiari country, the people
stack the Centaurea alata for winter fodder. The road is
good, and except in two places a four-wheeled carriage
could be driven over it at a trot.

The camping - ground was outside Deswali, an un¬
walled, village of 106 houses, with extensive cultivated
lands and a “ well-to-do ” aspect. The people raise cereals,

LETTER XXII

A PET HORSE

135

melons, encumbers, grapes, and cotton, but in bad seasons
have to import wheat. There, as at every village since, the
hetchuda has called upon me, and some of these men have
been intelligent and communicative, and have shown such
courtesies as have been in their power. It is an unusual,
if not an unheard-of, thing for a European lady, even if
she knows Persian, to travel through this country without
a European escort; but there has been no rudeness or
impertinent curiosity, no crowding even; the headmen all
seemed anxious for my comfort, and supplies at reason¬
able rates have always been forthcoming.

The heat at Deswali was overpowering, the mercury
in my tent standing for hours on 17th August at 120°,
the temperature in the shade being 104°.

It is vain to form any resolution against making a pet
of a horse. My new acquisition, “ Boy” insisted on being
petted, and his winning and enticing ways are irresistible.
He is always tethered in front of my tent with a rope so
long as to give him a considerable amount of liberty, and he
took advantage of this the very first day to come into the
tent and make it very apparent that he wanted me to
divide a melon with him. Grapes were his next penchant,
then cucumber, bread, and biscuits. Then he actually
drank milk out of a soup plate. He comes up to me
and puts his head down to have his ears rubbed, and if I
do not attend to him at once, or cease attending to him,
he gives me a gentle but admonitory thump. I dine
outside the tent, and he is tied to my chair, and waits
with wonderful patience for the odds and ends, only
occasionally rubbing his soft nose against my face to
remind me that he is there. Up to this time a friendly
snuffle is the only sound that he has made. He does not
know how to fight, or that teeth and heels are of any
other use than to eat and walk with. He is really the
gentlest and most docile of his race. The point at which

136

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXII

he “ draws the line ” is being led. He drags hack, and a
mulish look comes into Ms sweet eyes. But he follows
like a dog, and as I walk as much as I can I always have
him with me. He comes when I call Mm, stops when I
stop, goes off the road with me when I go in search of
flowers, and usually puts Ms head either on my shoulder or
under my arm. To him I am an embodiment of melons,
cucumbers, grapes, pears, peaches, biscuits, and sugar, with
a good deal of petting and ear-rubbing thrown in. Every
day he becomes more of a companion. He walks very
fast, gallops easily, never stumbles, can go anywhere, is
never tired, and is always hungry. I paid £4 :15s. for
him, but he was bought from the Bakhtiaris for £3 :14s.
as a four-year-old. He is “ up to ” sixteen stone, jumps
very well, and is an excellent travelling horse.

Bedundant forelocks and wavy manes, uncut tails
carried in fiery fashion, small noses, quivering nostrils,
small restless ears, and sweet intelligent eyes add wonder¬
fully to the attractiveness of the various points of ex¬
cellence wMch attract a horse - fancier in Persia. A
Persian horse in good condition may be backed against
any horse in the world for weight-carrying powers,
endurance, steadiness, and surefootedness, is seldom un¬
sound, and is to Ms rider a friend as well as a servant.
Generally speaking, a horse can carry his rider wherever
a mule can carry a load, and will do from thirty to forty
miles a day for almost any length of time.

The clothing of horses is an important matter. Even
in this hot weather they wear a good deal—first a parhan
or shirt of fine wool crossed over the chest; next the jul ,
a similar garment, but in coarser wool; and at night over
all this is put the namad , a piece of felt half an inch
thick, so long that it wraps the animal from head to tail,
and so deep as to cover his body down to Ms knees. A
broad surcingle of woollen webbing keeps the whole in place.

LETTER XXII

HORSE ROOD

137

The food does not vary. It consists of from seven to
ten pounds of barley daily, in two feeds, and as much as
a horse can eat of hah, which is straw broken in pieces
about an inch and a half long. While travelling, barley
and hah are mixed in the nose-bag. No hay is given,
and there are no oats. It is customary among the rich
to give their horses an exclusive diet of barley grass for
one month in the spring, on which they grow very fat
and useless. Old horses are fed on dough-balls made of
barley-flour and water. A grape diet is also given in
the grape - producing regions in the autumn instead of
hah . Boy eats ten pounds of grapes as a mere dessert.

I admire and like the Persian horse. His beauty is
a constant enjoyment, and, ferocious as he is to his fellows,
he is gentle and docile to man. I cannot now recall
having seen a vicious horse in seven months. On the
whole they are very well cared for, and are kindly treated.
The sore backs of baggage horses are almost inevitable,
quite so, indeed, so long as the present form of pack-saddle
stuffed with hah is used. Mares are not ridden in Persia
proper.

The march from Deswali to Sahmine is a pretty
one, at first over long buff rolling hills and through
large elevated villages, then turning off from the Kirman-
shah road and descending into a broad plain, the whole
of which for several miles is occupied by the trees and
gardens of the eminently prosperous village of Sahmine,
whose 500 families, though they pay a tribute of 2400
tumans a year, have “ nothing to complain of.” 1

I was delighted with the oasis of Sahmine. It has
abundant water for irrigation, which means abundant

1 On this journey of 400 miles from Burujird to the Turkish frontier
near Urmi, I never heard one complaint of the tribute which is paid to
the Shah. All complaints, and they were many, were of the exactions
and rapacity of the local governors.

138

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXII

fertility. Its walnut trees are magnificent, and its
gardens are filled with, noble fruit trees. The wheat
harvest was being brought in, and within the walls it was
difficult to find a place to camp on, for all the open spaces
were threshing - floors, piled with sheaves of wheat and
mounds of kah , in the midst of which oxen in spans of
two were threshing. That is, they drew machines like
heavy wood sleds, with transverse revolving wooden rollers
set with iron fans at different angles, which cut the straw
to pieces. A great heap of unbound sheaves is in the
centre, and from this men throw down the stalked ears
till they come up to the bodies of the oxen, adding more
as fast as the straw is trodden down. A boy sits on the
car and keeps the animals going in a circle hour after
hour with a rope and a stick. The foremost oxen are
muzzled. The grain falls out during this process.

On a windy day the great heaps are tossed into the
air on a fork, the straw is carried for a short distance,
and the grain falling to the ground is removed and
placed in great clay jars in the living-rooms of the houses.
All the villages are now surrounded with mounds of kah
which will be stored before snow comes. The dustiness
of this winnowing process is indescribable. I was nearly
smothered with it in Sahmine, and on windy days each
village is enveloped in a yellow dust storm.

Sahmine, though it has many ruinous buildings, has
much building going on. It has large houses with
balakhanas , a Khan's fort with many houses inside, a
square with fine trees and a stream, and a 'place with a
stream, where madder-red dyers were at work, and there
are five small mosques and imamzadas. The gardens
are quite beautiful, and it is indeed a very attractive
village.

The people also were attractive and friendly. After
the ketchuda’s official visit the Khan’s wives called, and

LETTER XXII

A RECEPTION

139

pressed me very hospitably to leave my tent and live
with them, and when I refused they sent me a dinner of
Persian dishes with sweetmeats made by their own hands.
The kabobs were quite appetising. They are a favourite
Persian dish, made of pieces of seasoned meat roasted on
skewers, and served very hot, between flaps of very hot
bread. Each bit of meat is rubbed with an onion before
being put on the skewer, and a thin slice of tail fat is
put between every two pieces. The cooks show great
art in the rapidity with which they rotate a skewer full
of kabobs over a fierce charcoal fire.

In the evening, at the ketchuda’s request, I held a
“ reception ” outside my tent, and it was a very pleasant,
merry affair. Several of the people brought their children,
and the little things behaved most graciously. It is very
pleasant to see the devotion of the men to them. I told
them that in England many of our people are so poor
that instead of children being welcome they are regarded
ruefully as additional “ mouths to feed.” “ Ah,” said the
Jcetchuda, a handsome Seyyid, “ your land is then indeed
under the curse of God. We would like ten children at
once, they are the joy of our lives.” Other men fol¬
lowed, expatiating on the delights of having children to
pet and play with on their return from work.

Sahmine not only dyes and prints cottons, but it ex¬
ports wheat, barley, opium, cotton, and fruit, and appears
a more important and prosperous place than Daulatabad,
the capital of the district.

The fine valley between Sahmine and Daulatabad is
irrigated by a kanaat and canals, and is completely cul¬
tivated, bearing heavy crops of wheat, cotton, tobacco,
opium, bringals , and castor oil. The wheat is now being
carried to the villages on asses’ backs in great nets, lashed
to six-foot poles placed in front and behind, each pole
being kept steady by a man.

140

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXII

The heat on that march was severe. A heavy heat-
haze hung over the distances, vegetation drooped, my mock
sowar wrapped up his head in his abba ,, the horses looked
limp, the harvesters slept under the trees, the buffaloes
lay down in mud and water. Even the greenery of the
extensive gardens in and around Daulatabad scarcely
looked cool.

Daulatabad is a walled city of 4500 souls, has a fort,
and is reputed to have a large garrison. The bazars,
which contain 250 shops, are indifferent, and the five
caravanserais wretched. It and its extensive gardens
occupy the eastern extremity of a plain, and lie very near
the steep rocky mountain Sard Kuh, through which, by
the Tang-i-Asnab, the Tihran road passes. Another road
over the shoulder of the mountain goes to Isfahan. The
plain outside the walls has neither tree nor bush, and was
only brought into cultivation two years ago. The harvest
was carried, and as irrigation had been suspended for
some weeks, there was nothing but a yellow expanse of
short thin stubble and blazing gravel.

There was no space for camping in any available
garden, and an hour was spent in finding a camping-
ground with wholesome water on the burning plain before
mentioned. I camped below a terraced and planted
eminence, on which a building, half fort and half
governor’s house, has so recently been erected that it has
not had time to become ruinous. It is an imposing
quadrangle with blank walls, towers with windows at the
corners, and a very large balahhana over the entrance. A
winding carriage-drive, well planted, leads up to it, and
there is a circular band-stand with a concrete floor and
a fountain. The most surprising object was a new pair-
horse landau, standing under a tree. Barracks are being
built just below the house.

While my tent was being pitched, the Governor’s

LETTEB XXII

A FIERY DAY

141

aide-de-camp , attended by a cavalry escort, called, and
with much courtesy offered me the lalahhana , arranged, he
said, in European fashion. The Governor was absent, but
this officer said that it would be his wish to offer me
hospitality. As I felt quite unable to move he sent a skin
of good water, some fruit, and a guard of four soldiers.

It was only 11 a.m. when the tents were pitched, and
the long day which followed was barely endurable. The
mercury reached 124° inside my tent. The servants lay
in a dry ditch under a tree in the Governor’s garden.
Boy several times came into the shade of my verandah.
The black flies swarmed over everything, and at sunset
covered the whole roof of the tent so thickly that no part
of it could be seen. The sun, a white scintillating ball,
blazed from a steely sky, over which no cloud ever passed.
The heated atmosphere quivered over the burning earth.
I was at last ill of fever, and my recipe for fighting the
heat by ceaseless occupation failed. It was a miserable
day, and at one time a scorching wind, which seemed hot
enough to singe one’s hair, added to the discomfort. “ As
the hireling earnestly desireth the shadow,” so I longed
for evening, but truly the hours of that day were “ long
drawn out.” The silence was singular. , Even the
buzzing of a blue-bottle fly would have been cheerful.
The sun, reddening the atmosphere as he sank, disappeared
in a fiery haze, and then the world of Daulatabad awoke.
Parties of Persian gentlemen on fiery horses passed by,
dervishes honoured me by asking alms, the Governor’s
major-domo called to offer sundry kindnesses, and great
flocks of sheep and goats, indicated by long lines of dust
clouds,'moved citywards from the hills. Sand-flies in
legions now beset me, and the earth, which had been
imbibing heat all day, radiated it far into the morning.
I moved my bed outside the tent and gave orders for an
early' start, but the charvadar who was in the city over-

142

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXII

slept himself, and it was eight the next day before I got
away, taking Mirza with me.

The heat culminated on that day. Since then, having
attained a higher altitude, it has diminished. 1 The road
to Jamilabad ascends pretty steadily through undulating
country with small valleys among low hills, but with
hardly any villages, owing to the paucity of water. The
fever still continuing, I found it difficult to bear the
movement of the horse, and dismounted two or three
times and lay under an umbrella by the roadside.
On one of these halts I heard Mirza’s voice saying in
cheerful tones, “ Madam, your horse is gone ! ” “ Gone ! ”

I exclaimed, “I told you always to hold or tether him”
“ I trusted him,” he replied sententiously. “ Never trust
any one or any horse, and least of all yourself,” I replied
unadvisedly. I sent him back with his horse to look for
Boy, telling him when he saw him to dismount and go
towards him with the nose-bag, and that though the
horse would approach it and throw up his heels and trot
away at first, h b would eventually come near enough to
be caught. After half an hour he came back without
him. I asked him what he had done. He said he saw
Boy, rode near him twice, did not dismount, held out to
him not the nose-bag with barley but my “ courier bag,”
and that Boy cantered out of sight! For the moment
I shared Aziz Khan’s contempt for the " desk-bred ” man.

Mirza is so good that one cannot be angry with him,
but it was very annoying to hear him preach about “ fate ”
and “ destiny ” while he was allowing his horse to grind my
one pair of smoked spectacles into bits under his hoofs.
I only tGid him that it would be time to fall back on fate

1 North of Daulatabad, the route of last winter from Nanej to K4m,
the winter route from Kangawar to Tihran, was crossed. Although it is
a “beaten track” for caravans, so far as I know the only information
concerning it consists in two reports, not accessible to the public, in the
possession of the Indian authorities.

LETTER XXXI

A SORE PLIGHT

143

and destiny when, under any given circumstances, such
as these, he had exhausted all the resources of forethought
and intelligence. My plight was a sore one, for by that
time I was really ill, and had lost, as well as my horse and
saddle, my food, quinine, writing materials, and needle¬
work. I got on the top of the baggage and rode for five
hours, twice falling off from exhaustion. The march
instead of being thirteen miles turned out twenty-two,
there was no water, poor Mirza was so " knocked up ” that
he stumbled blindly along, and it was just sunset when,
after a series of gentle ascents, we reached the village of
Jamilabad, prettily situated on the crest of a hill in a
narrow valley above a small stream.

To acquaint the hetchuda with my misfortune, and
get him to send a capable man in search of the horse,
promising a large reward, and to despatch Hassan with a
guide in another direction, were the first considerations,
and so it fell out that it was 10 p.m. before I was at rest
in my tent, where I was obliged to remain for some days,
ill of fever. The next morning a gentle thump, a low
snuffle, and a theft of some grapes by my bedside
announced that Boy was found, and by the headman’s
messenger, who said he met a Seyyid riding him to
Hamadan. The saddle-cloth was missing, and all the
things from the holsters, but after the emissary had been
arrested for some crime the latter were found in his large
pockets. Hassan returned late in the afternoon, having
been surrounded by four sowars, who, under the threat
of giving him a severe beating, deprived him of his
watch.

When I was so far better as to be able to move, I
went on to Mongawi, a large walled village at an
elevation of 7100 feet, camped for two days on an
adjacent slope, and from thence rode to Yalpand by a
road on a height on the east side of a very wild valley

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on the west of which is Elwend, a noble mountain,
for long an object of interest on the march from
Kirmanshah to Tihran. A great number of the
mountains of Persia are ridges or peaks of nearly naked
rock, with precipices on which nothing can cling, and
with bases small in proportion to their elevation. Others
are “ monstrous protuberances ” of mud and gravel.
Mount Elwend, however, has many of the characteristics
of a mountain,—a huge base broken up into glens and
spurs, among which innumerable villages with their sur¬
roundings of woods and crops are scattered, with streams
dashing through rifts and lingering among pasture lands,
vine-clothed slopes below and tawny grain above, high
summits, snow-slashed even now, clouds caught and
falling in vivifying showers, indigo colouring in the
shadows, and rocky heights for which purple-madder
would be the fittest expression.

In one of the loveliest of the valleys on the skirts of
Elwend lies the large walled village of Yalpand on a vigor¬
ous stream. For two miles before reaching it the rugged
road passes through a glen which might be at home, a water-
worn ledgy track, over-arched by trees, with steep small
fields among them in the fresh green of grass springing
up after the hay has been carried. Trees, ruddy with
premature autumnal tints and festooned with roses and
brambles, bend over the river, of which little is visible but
here and there a flash of foam or a sea-green pool. The
village, on a height above the stream, has banks of
orchards below and miles of grain above, and vineyards,
and material plenty of all sorts. It was revelling in the
dust storm which winnowing produces, and the ketchuda
suggested to me to camp at some distance beyond it, on a
small triangular meadow below a large irrigation stream.
Hardly were the tents pitched when, nearly without
warning, Elwend blackened, clouds gathered round his

LETTER XXII

A JOLLY CEARVADAR

145

crest and boiled up out of his corries, and for the first
time since the middle of January there were six hours
of heavy rain, with hail and thunder, and a fall of the
mercury within one hour from 78° to 59°. The coolness
was most delicious.

Hadji Hussein's prophecy that after I left him I should
“know what charvadars are” was not fulfilled on this
journey. I had one young man with me who from having
performed the pilgrimage to Kerbela bears the name of
“ Kerbelai ” for the rest of his life. He owns the fine and
frisky animals he drives, and goes along at a good pace,
his long gun over his shoulder, singing as he goes.
Blithe, active, jolly, obliging, honest, kind-hearted, he
loads as fast as three ordinary men, and besides grooming
and feeding his animals well, he “ ran messages,” got the
water and wood, and helped to pitch and strike the
tents, and was as ready to halt as to march. Hassan and
Mirza are most deliberate in their movements; nothing
can hurry them, not even the risk of being flooded out
of their tents; and when the storm came on Kerbelai
snatched the spade from them and in no time trenched
my tent and dug a channel to let the water out of the
meadow.

The next day was cloudless, and the sky, instead of
having a whitish or steely blue, had the deep pure tint
so often seen on a June day in England. The heat
returned, and it was a fatiguing and dusty march into
Hamadan, still mainly on the skirts of Elwend, among
villages surrounded by vineyards. After pursuing a by¬
road from Jamilabad I joined the main road, two miles
from Hamadan, and the number of men on good horses,
of foot passengers, and of asses laden with fruit and
vegetables, indicated the approach to a capital as plainly
as the wide road, trenched on both sides and planted
with young willows.

VOL. II L

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The wall as is usual is of crumbling, rain-eaten, sun-
dried bricks, and a very poor gateway admits the traveller
into a network of narrow alleys, very ruinous, with in¬
famous roadways, full of lumps, holes, slimy black
channels, stout mangy dogs, some of them earless, tailless,
and one-eyed, sleeping in heaps in the hot sun, the whole
overwhelmingly malodorous. 1

It was no easy matter to find the way to the Ameri¬
can Mission House, even though the missionary Hakim
is well known and highly esteemed, and I rode through
the filthy alleys of the city and its crowded bazars for
more than an hour before I reached the Armenian
quarter. The people were most polite. There was no
shouting or crushing in the bazars, and in some cases
men walked with me for some distance to show me the
way, especially when I asked for the Klianum’s house.
Indeed they all seemed anxious to assist a stranger.
Many of the children salaamed, as I thought, but I have
since heard that they are fond of using to a Christian a
word which sounds just like salaam , but which instead
of meaning Peace is equivalent to “ May you be for ever
accursed!”

On reaching the Mission House I found it shut and
that the missionaries were in the country, and after
sending word that I had arrived I spent some hours in
an Armenian house, where the people showed extreme
hospitality and kindness.

They put a soft quilt down on the soft rugs, which
covered the floor of a pretty whitewashed room, with

1 Hamadan is the fourth city in the Empire in commercial importance.
She has a Prince Governor, 450 villages in the district, raises revenue to
the amount of 60,000 tumans , of which only 11,000 are paid into the
Imperial Treasury, and, as the ancient Ecbatana, the capital of the Median
kings, she has a splendid history, but the few lines in which I recorded
my first impressions are not an exaggeration of the meanness and un-
savouriness of her present externals.

LETTER XXII

A RADIANT VISION

147

many ornaments, chiefly Russian, and, finding that I was
ill, they repeatedly brought tea, milk, and fruit instead
of the heavy dinner which was at once cooked. The
sight of several comely women dressed in shades of red,
with clean white chadars , going about household avoca¬
tions, receiving visitors and gracefully exercising the rites
of hospitality in a bright clean house festooned with
vines, was very pleasant to a dweller in tents. It is not
Armenian custom for a daughter-in-law to speak in the
presence of her mother-in-law, or even to uncover her
mouth, or for young women to speak in presence of their
elders. A wife cannot even address her husband in the
presence of his mother, except in a furtive whisper.
Owing to the custom of covering the mouth, which
shows no symptom of falling into disuse, I did not see
the face of a girl matron who, judging from her eyes,
nose, and complexion, was the comeliest in the room.

Towards evening, as I lay trying to sleep, I was
delightfully startled by a cheery European voice, and a
lady bent over me, whose face was sunshine, and the
very tone of her voice a welcome. Goodness, purity, love,
capacity to lead as well as help, true strength, and true
womanliness met in the expression of her countenance.
Her spotless cambric dress, her becoming hat with its soft
white pagri, the harmonious simplicity of her costume,
and her well-fitting gloves and shoes were a joy after the
slovenliness, slipshodness, and generally tumbling-to-pieces
look of Oriental women. The Eaith Hubbard School,
one of the good works of the American Presbyterian

Mission, was close by, and in half an hour Miss -

made me feel “ at home.” Blessed phrase !

I. L. B.

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LETTEE XXIII

Hamadan, Sept. 12.

I came for four days, and have been here nearly three
weeks, which I would willingly prolong into as many
months if the winter were not impending. Illness,
the non-arrival of luggage containing winter clothing
from Tihran, and the exceeding difficulty of finding a
charvadar willing to go to Urrni by the route I wish to
take, have all detained me. For some time I was unable
to leave the house, and indeed have been out very little,
and not outside the city at all.

I am disappointed both with Hamadan and its autumn
climate. It stands at an elevation of 6156 feet
[Schindler], and on the final slope of the Kuh-i-Hamadan,
an offshoot of Mount El wend, overlooking a plain about
fifteen miles long by nine broad, populous and cultivated,
bounded on the other side by low gravelly hills. At
this altitude, and with autumn fairly begun, coolness
might be expected, but the heat, which a fortnight ago
seemed moderating, has returned in fury, with that
peculiar faintness about it- which only autumn gives.
Mount Elwend attracts masses of clouds, and these tend
to hang over the town and increase the stagnation of the
air, about which there is a remarkable closeness, even in
this high situation overlooking the plain. Intermittent
fever and diphtheria are prevailing both in the city and
the adjacent villages. Not only is the air close and still,

LETTER XXIII THE ALLEYS OF HAMADAN

149

but the sun is blazing hot, and the mercury only varies
from 88° in the day to 84° at night. Brown dust-
storms career wildly over the plain, or hang heavily over
it in dust clouds, and the sand-flies are abundant
and merciless. In the winter the cold is intense, and
the roads are usually blocked with snow for several
weeks.

Water is abundant, and is led through open channels
in the streets. The plain too is well supplied, and the
brown villages, which otherwise would be invisible on the
brown plain, are denoted by dark green stains of willow,
poplar, and fruit trees. The town itself has fine gardens,
belonging to the upper classes, but these are only indi¬
cated by branches straying over the top of very high
walls.

My first impressions have received abundant confirma¬
tion. Important as a commercial centre as Hamadan
doubtless is, it is as ruinous, filthy, decayed, and un-
prosperous-looking a city as any I have seen in Persia.
“ Ruinous heaps,” jagged weather-worn walls, houses
in ruins, or partly ruined and deserted, roofs broken
through, domes from which the glazed tiles have dropped
off, roadways not easy by daylight and dangerous at
night, water-channels leaking into -the roads and often
black with slime, and an unusual number of very poor
and badly-dressed people going about, are not evidences
of the prosperity which, in spite of these untoward
appearances, really exists.

The high weather-worn mud walls along the alleys
have no windows, in order that the women may not see
or be seen by men. A doorway with a mounting-block
outside it, in “ well-to-do ” houses, admits into a vaulted
recess, from which a passage, dimly lighted, conducts into
the courtyard, round which the house is built, or into the
house itself. These courtyards are planted with trees

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and flowers, marigolds and autumnal roses being now
in the ascendant. Marble basins with fountains, and
marble walks between the parterres, suggest coolness, and
walnuts, apples, and apricots give shade. The men’s and
women’s apartments are frequently on opposite sides of
the quadrangles, and the latter usually open on atriums ,
floored with white marble and furnished with rugs and
brocaded curtains. I have only seen the women’s
apartments, and these in the houses of rich traders and
high officials are as ornamental as the exteriors are
repulsive and destitute of ornament. Gilding, arabesques
in colour, fretwork doors and panelling, and ceilings and
cornices composed of small mirrors arranged so as to
represent facets, are all decorative in the extreme. These
houses, with the deep shade of their courtyards, the cool
plash of their fountains, and their spacious and ex¬
quisitely-decorated rooms, contrast everywhere with the
low dark mud hovels, unplastered and windowless, in
which the poor live, and which the women can only
escape from by sitting in the heaped and filthy yards
on which they open, and which the inhabitants share
with their animals. The contrast between wealth and
poverty is strongly emphasised in this, as in all Persian
cities, but one must "add that the gulf between rich and
poor is bridged by constant benevolence on the part of
the rich, profuse charity being practised as a work of merit
by all good Moslems.

The bazars are shabby and partially ruinous, but very
well supplied with native produce and manufactures,
English cottons, Russian merchandise, and “knick-knacks”
of various descriptions. The presence of foreigners in
the town, although they import many things by way of
Baghdad, has introduced foreign articles of utility into
the bazars, which are not to be found everywhere, and
which are commending themselves to the people, “ Peek

LETTER XXIII

LEATHER AND NAMADS

151

and Frean’s ” biscuits among them. The display of fruit-
just now is very fine, especially of grapes and melons. The
best peaches, which are large and of delicious flavour, as
well as the best pears, come from the beautiful orchards
of Jairud, not far from Kum. The saddlery and caravan
equipment bazars are singularly well supplied, as indeed
they should be, for Hamadan is famous for leather, and
caravans loaded with hides for its tanneries are met with
on every road. The bark and leaves of the pomegranate
are used for tanning. Besides highly ornamental leather
for book-bindings and women’s shoes, the tanners prepare
the strong skins which, after being dyed red, are used
for saddles, coverings of trunks, and bindings for khilrjins .

Hamadan is also famous for namads or felts, which are
used as carpets and horse-coverings, and as greatcoats by
the peasants as well as by the Lurs. A good carpet felt
of Hamadan manufacture is an inch thick, but some made
at Yezd reach two inches. For rich men’s houses they
are made to order to fit rooms, and valuable rugs are laid
over them. The largest I have seen is in the palace of
the Minister of Justice at Tihran, which must be fully
a hundred and twenty feet by eighty feet, and formed
fourteen mule-loads; but sixty by forty feet is not an
uncommon size, and makes eight mule-loads. These
carpet namads, the most delicious of floor-coverings, are
usually a natural brown, with an outline design in coloured
threads or in a paler shade of brown beaten into the
fabric. Namads , owing to their bulk and weight, are
never exported. The best, made at Hamadan, are about
20 s. the square yard. Chairs spoil them, and as it is
becoming fashionable among the rich men of the cities
to wear tight trousers, which bring chairs in their train,
the manufacture of these magnificent floor-coverings will
probably die.

The felt coats, which protect equally from rain and

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LETTER XXIII

cold, are dark brown and seamless, and cost from 10s. to
20s. They have sleeves closed at the end to form a
glove, and with a slit below the elbow through which the
hand can be protruded and used. These coats are cloak¬
like, the sleeve is as long as the coat, and they are often
worn merely suspended from the neck.

Hamadan is also famous for copper-work, and makes
and dyes cottons. The tanneries and the dye-works
between them create a stench which is perceptible for
miles. The neighbourhood produces much wine, white
like hock, and red like claret, both being harsh and the
first heady. The Armenians are the chief makers and
sellers of wine. I wish I could add that they are the only
people who get drunk, but this is not the case, for from
the Prince Governor downwards,* among the rich Moslems,
intemperance has become common, and even many young
men are “ going to wreck with drink,” sacrificing the virtue
to which Moslems have been able to point with pride
as differentiating them from so-called Christians. I was
unable to return the Prince Governor’s visit and courtesies
in accordance with the etiquette for a European lady
traveller, because of the helpless condition in which he and
a party of convivial friends were found by the messenger
sent by me to ask him to appoint an hour for my visit.
Raisins, treacle, and arah are also manufactured. The
rich prefer cognac to arah It is spirit-drinking rather
than wine-drinking which is sapping the life of the
Moslems of Hamadan.

It is singular that in this Ecbatana, the capital of
Greater Media, there should be so very few remains of an
ancient greatness and splendour. Just outside the town
a low eminence called Musala is pointed out as the site
of the palace of the Median kings, but even this is
doubtful. Coins of an ancient date are both dug up and
fabricated by the Jews. Only two really interesting

LETTER xxni THE TOMB OF QUEEN ESTHER

153

objects remain, and the antiquity of one of these is not
universally accepted. The tomb of Queen Esther and her
uncle Mordecai is the great show-place of Hamadan, and
is held in much veneration by the Jews of Turkey and
Persia, who resort to it on pilgrimage. The Jews are
its custodians.

TOMB OF ESTHER AND MORDECAI.

This tomb consists of an outer and inner chamber,
surmounted by a mean dome about fifty feet in height.
The blue tiles with which it was covered have nearly all
dropped off. The outer chamber, in which there are a
few tombs of Jews who have been counted worthy of
burial near the shrine, is entered by a very low door, and
the shrine itself by one still lower, through which one

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LETTER XXIII

is obliged to creep. The inner chamber is vaulted, and
floored with blue tiles, and having been recently restored
is in good order. Under the dome, which is lighted
with the smoky clay lamps used by the very poor, are
the two tombs, each covered with a carved wooden ark,
much defaced and evidently of great antiquity. There is
an entrance to the tombs below these arks, and each is
lighted by an ever-burning lamp. There is nothing in
the shrine but a Hebrew Old Testament and a quantity of
pieces of paper inscribed with Hebrew characters, which
are affixed by pilgrims to the woodwork. The tombs
and the tradition concerning them are of such great
antiquity that I gladly accept the verdict of those who
assign them to the beautiful and patriotic Queen and her
capable uncle.

On the dome is this inscription: Cf On Thursday the
15th of the month Adar in the year of the creation of
the world 4474 the building of this temple over the
tombs of Mordecai and Esther was finished by the hands
of the two benevolent brothers Elias and Samuel, sons of
Ismail Kachan.”

The other object of interest, which has been carefully
described by Sir H. Eawlinson and Sir H. Layard, is
specially remarkable as having afforded the key to the
decipherment of the cuneiform character. It is in the
mountains above Hamadan, and consists of two tablets
six feet six inches by eight feet six inches (Layard) cut
in a red granite cliff which closes the end .of a corrie.
There are other tablets near them, carefully prepared,
but never used. The three inscriptions are in parallel
columns in the three languages spoken in the once vast
Persian Empire—Persian, Median, and Babylonian, and
contain invocations to Ormuzd, and the high-sounding
names and titles of Darius Hystaspes and his son Xerxes.

Amidst the meanness, not to say squalor, of modern

LETTER XXIII

JEWISH DEGRADATION

155

Hamadan, no legerdemain of the imagination can re-create
the once magnificent Ecbatana, said by the early Greek
writers to have been scarcely inferior to Babylon in size
and splendour, with walls covered with “ plates of gold,”
and fortifications of enormous strength; the capital of
Arbaces after the fall of Nineveh, and the summer resort
of the “ Great King,” according to Xenophon.

The Jews are supposed to number from 1500 to 2000
souls, and are in the lowest state of degradation, morally
and socially. That bad act of Sarah in casting out “ the
bondwoman and her son” is certainly avenged upon her
descendants. They are daily kicked, beaten, and spat
upon in the streets, and their children are pelted and
beaten in going to and from the school which the
Americans have established for them. Redress for any
wrongs is inaccessible to them. They are regarded as
inferior to dogs. So degraded are they that they have
not even spirit to take advantage of the help which
American influence would give them to get into a better
position. The accursed vices of low greed and low
cunning are fully developed in them. They get their
living by usury, by the making and selling of wine and
ctmh, by the sale of adulterated drugs, by peddling in the
villages, and by doing generally the mean and dishonest
work from which their oppressors shrink. Many of them
have become Moslems, the law being that a convert to
Islam can take away the whole property of his family.
A larger number have, it is believed, joined the secret
sect of the Babis. I never heard such a sickening
account of degradation as is given of the Hamadan Jews
by those who know them best, and have worked the most
earnestly for their welfare.

There are a number of Armenians in Hamadan, and
several villages in the district are inhabited exclusively
by them. There are also villages with a mixed Persian

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LETTER XXIII

and Armenian population. They all speak Persian, and
the men at least are scarcely to be distinguished from
Persians by their dress. They are not in any way
oppressed, and, except during occasional outbreaks of
Moslem fanaticism, are on very good terms with their
neighbours. They live in a separate quarter, and both
Gregorians and Protestants exercise their religion with¬
out molestation. They excel in various trades, specially
carpentering and working in metals. Their position in
Hamadan is improving, and this may be attributed in
part to the high-class education given in the Am erican
High School for boys, and to the residence among them
of the American missionaries, who have come to be re¬
garded as their natural protectors.

The population of Hamadan is “an unknown quantity.”
It probably does not exceed 25,000, and has undoubtedly
decreased. Seyyids and mollahs form a considerable pro¬
portion of it, and it is one of the strongholds of the Babis.
It is usually an orderly city, and European ladies wearing
gauze veils and properly attended can pass through it
both by day and night. Several parts of it are enclosed
by gates, as at Canton, open only from sunrise to sunset,
an arrangement which is supposed to be conducive to
security. I. L. B.

LETTER XXIV

LIFE ON HOUSE-ROOFS

157

LETTER XXIY

Hamadan, Sept. 14.

I AM visiting the three lady teachers of the Faith
Hubbard Boarding School for girls, and the visit is an
oasis on my journey. It is a most cheerful house, a
perfect hive of industry, each one being occupied with
things which are worth doing. I cannot say how kind
and how helpful they have all been to me, and with
what regret I am leaving them.

The house is large, plain, airy, and thoroughly sanitary,
very well situated, with an open view over the Hamadan
plain. It is closely surrounded by the houses of the
Armenian quarter, and all those domestic operations
which are performed on the roofs in hot weather are
easily studied, such as the drying of clothes and herbs,
the cleaning of heads, the beating of children, the bring¬
ing out of beds at night, and the rolling them up in the
morning, the “ going to bed ” of families much bundled
up, the performance of the very limited ablutions which
constitute the morning toilette, and the making and
mending of clothes, the roof being for many months both
living-room and bedroom.

At sunset, as in all Persian towns, a great hush falls
on Hamadan. Only people who have. business are seen
in the streets, the bazars are closed, and from sunset to
sunrise there would be complete silence were it not for
the yelping and howling of the scavenger dogs and the

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LETTER XXIV

long melancholy call to prayer from the minarets. If it
is necessary to go out at night a person of either sex is
preceded by a servant carrying a lantern near the ground.
These lanterns have metal tops and bottoms, and waxed,
wired muslin between, which is ingeniously arranged to
fold up flat. They are usually three feet long, but may
be of any diameter, and as your consideration is evidenced
by the size of your lantern there is a tendency to carry
about huge transparencies which undulate very agreeably
in the darkness.

This is the Moharrem or month of mourning, for
Hassan and Houssein, the slain sons of Ali, who are
regarded by the Shiahs as the rightful successors of
the Prophet and as the noblest martyrs in the Calendar.
During this period the whole Persian co mm unity goes
into deep mourning, and the streets and bazars are filled
with black dresses only. In this month is acted through¬
out the Empire the Tazieh or Passion Play, which has for
its climax the tragic deaths of these two men. 1

I arrived in Hamadan on what should have been the
first day of Moharrem, but there had been a difference of
opinion among the mollahs as to the date, and it was post¬
poned to the next day, for me a most fortunate circum¬
stance, as no Christian ought to be seen in the streets
at a time when they are filled with excited throngs
frenzied by religious fanaticism. On the following day
the quiet of the city was interrupted by singular cries,
and by children’s voices, high pitched, singing a chant so
strange and weird that one both longs and dreads to hear
it repeated. The Christians kept within their houses.
Business was suspended. Bands of boys carrying black
flags perambulated the town, singing one of the chants of

1 Pot a detailed and most interesting account of these remarkable
representations the reader is referred to Mr. Benjamin’s Persia and the
Persians , chap. xiii.

letter xxiy THE PEBSIAN PASSION PLAY

159

the Passion Play. As night came on it was possible to
feel the throb of the excitement of the city, and till the
small hours the march of frenzied processions was heard,
and the loud smiting on human breasts and the clash
of the chains with which the dervishes beat themselves,
were intermingled with a united rhythmic cry of anguish
—Ah Houssein ! Wai Houssein ! (0 Houssein ! Woe for
Houssein!) Ya Houssein ! Ycc Hassan ! and in the
flickering light of the torches black flags were waving,
and frenzied men were seen beating their bare breasts.

In some of the cities these processions are a sickening
spectacle. Throngs move along the streets, escorting large
troops of men either stripped to their waists or wearing
only white shirts which expose the bosom. Beating their
breasts with their right hands in concert till they make
them raw, gashing themselves on their heads with daggers,
streaming with blood, and maddened by religious frenzy,
they pass from street to street, and the yell rises from all
quarters, Ya Houssein ! Wai Houssein ! Occasionally
men drop down dead from excitement, and others, falling
from loss of blood, are carried away by their friends. It
is at the end of the month of mourning that these pro¬
cessions, called testeh, increase so much in frenzy and
fanaticism as to be dangerous to the good order of cities,
clashing with each other, and sometimes cutting their way
through each other with loss of life. To join in a testeh
is to perform a “ pious act/’ and atones for sin committed
and to be committed. The Tazieh or Passion Play itself,
acted in splendour before the Shah, is repeated every¬
where throughout Persia, lasting from ten to twelve
days, the frenzy with which the different incidents are
received culminating on the last day, when the slaughter
of Houssein is represented. On the whole the Tazieh
is among the most remarkable religious phenomena of

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LETTER XXIV

Under the rule of the present Prince Governor com¬
plete religious toleration exists in Hamadan, and the
missionaries have a fair field, though it must never he
forgotten that a proselytising Christian, rendering honour
to Christ as God, by his mere presence introduces a dis¬
turbing element into a Moslem population. In consequence
of this tolerant official spirit there are a few Moslem girls
among the sixty boarders here. In addition there are
a large number of day pupils.

The girls live in native fashion, and wear native
dresses of red cotton printed with white patterns, white
chadars , and such ornaments as they possess. They sit
on the floor at their meals, at each of which one of the
ladies is present. They have excellent food, meat once
a day in summer and twice in winter, bread, tea, soup,
curds, cheese, melons, cucumbers, pickles, and gourds.
The winter supplies are now being laid in, and cara¬
vans of asses are arriving daily with firewood, cheeses,
and melons. The elder girls cook, and all the washing,
making, and mending are done at home, each elder girl
in addition having a small family of young ones under
her care. The only servant is the Iheestie or water-carrier.
The dormitories, class-rooms, eating-room, and Jiammam
are large and well ventilated, but very simple.

A plain but thorough education of the “National
School ” type is given, in combination with an industrial
training, fitted for girls whose early destiny is wifehood
and maternity. Some of the teachers are men, but the
religious instruction, on which great stress is laid, is given
by the ladies themselves, and is made singularly interest¬
ing and attractive. Music and singing are regarded as
among the recreations. The discipline is perfect, and the
# dirtiest, roughest, lumpiest, and most refractory raw
material is quickly transformed into cleanliness, bright¬
ness, and docility, partly by the tone of the school and

letter xxrv THE FAITH HUBBARD SCHOOL 161

the influence of the girls who have been trained in it,
but chiefly by the influence of love.

The respect with which the office of a teacher is
regarded in the East allows of much more apparent
familiarity than would be possible with us. Out of
school hours the ladies are accessible at all times even
to the youngest children. Many a little childish trouble
finds its way to their maternal sympathies, and they are
just as ready to give advice about the colour and making
of dolls’ clothes as about more important matters. The
loving, cheerful atmosphere of an English home pervades
the school. I write English rather than American because
the ladies are Prince Edward Islanders and British subjects.

Some of the girls who have been trained here are
well married and make good wives, and the school bids
fair to be resorted to in the future by young men who
desire companionship as well as domestic accomplish¬
ments in their wives. The ordinary uneducated Armenian
woman is a very stupid lump, very inferior to the Persian
woman. Of the effect of the simple, loving, practical,
Christian training given, and enforced by the beauty of
example it is easy to write, for not only some of the girls
who have left the school, but many who are now in it
show by the purity, gentleness, lovingness, and self-denial
of their lives that they have learned to follow the Master,
a lesson the wise teaching of which is, or should be, I
think, the raison d'etre of every mission school. Chris¬
tianity thus translated into homely lives may come to be
the disinfectant which will purify in time the deep cor¬
ruption of Persian life.

The cost of this school under its capable and liberal
management is surprising—only £3 :15s. per head per
annum! Its weak point (but at present it seems an
inevitable blemish) is, that the board and education are
gratuitous.

VOL. II

M

162

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXIV

There is a High School for boys, largely attended, under
the charge of Mr. Watson, the clerical missionary, with
an Armenian Principal, Karapit, educated in the C. M. S.
school in Julfa, a very able man, and he is assisted by
several teachers. There is also a large school of Jewish
girls, who are often maltreated on their way to and
from it.

There are a flourishing medical mission and dispensary
under Dr. Alexander’s charge, with a hospital nearly
finished for the more serious cases. There is another
dispensary at Sheverin, and both there and here the
number of patients is large. A small charge is made for
medicines. Mirza Sa’eed, a medical student of mature
years and remarkable capacities, occasionally itinerates in
the distant villages, and, being a learned scholar in the
Koran, holds religious disputations after his medical work
is done. He was a Moslem, and having embraced Chris¬
tianity preaches its doctrines with much force and en¬
thusiasm. He is popular in Hamadan, and much thought
of by the Governor in spite of his “ perversion.” He also
gives addresses on Christianity to the patients who
assemble at the dispensary. Any person is at liberty
to withdraw during this religious service, but few avail

themselves of the permission. Miss- speaks on

Christianity to the female patients at Sheverin, and be¬
friends them in their own homes.

The day’s work here begins at six, and is not over till
9 p.m. An English class for young men is held early,
after which people on business and visitors of all sorts
and creeds are arriving and departing all day, and all are
welcome. On one day I counted forty-three, and there
were many more than these. The upper class of Persian
women announce their visits beforehand, and usually
arrive on horseback, with attendants to clear the way.
No man-servant must enter the room with tea or any-

LETTER XXIV

SHOALS OF VISITORS

163

thing else during their visits. The Armenian women
call at all hours, and the Jewish women in large bands
without previous announcement. Tea & la Russe is pro¬
vided for all, and Ibrahim goes to the door and counts
the shoes left outside in order to know how many to pro¬
vide for. “ Klianum” he exclaimed one day after this
inspection, “ there are at least twenty of them ! 99

Some call out of politeness or real friendliness, others'
to see the tamasha (the sights of the house), many from
the villages to talk about their children, and some of the
Jewish women, who have become JBabis , ask to have the
New Testament read to them in the hope of hearing
something which they may use in the propagation of their
new faith. A good many women have called on me out
of politeness to my hostesses. Persian gentlemen invari¬
ably send the day before to know if a visit can be con¬
veniently received, and on these occasions the ladies
always secure the chajperonage of one of the men mis¬
sionaries. The concierge has orders not to turn any one
away, and it is a blessing when sunset comes and the
stream of visitors ceases.

All meet with a genial reception, and the ladies usually
succeed not only in lifting the conversation out of the
customary frivolous grooves, but in awaldng more or less
interest in the religion which they are here to propagate.
They are missionaries first and everything else afterwards,

and Miss -, partly because of her goodness and

benevolence to all, and partly because of an uncompromis¬
ing honesty in her religious beliefs which the people
thoroughly appreciate, has a remarkable influence in
Hamadan, and is universally respected. Her jollity and
sense of humour are a great help. She thoroughly enjoys
making people laugh.

I have never been in any place in which the relations
with Moslems have been so easy and friendly. The

164

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXIV

Sartip Eeza Khan told me it would be a matter of regret
to all except a few fanatics if the ladies were to leave the
city. From the Prince Governor downwards courtesy and
kindness are shown to them, and their philanthropic and
educational work is approved in the highest quarters,
though they never blink the fact that they are prosely-
tisers. 1

There is an Armenian Protestant congregation with a
native pastor and a fine church, and nothing shows more
plainly the toleration which prevails in Hamadan than
the number of Moslems to be seen every Sunday at the
morning service, which is in Persian. In this church
total abstinence is a “term of communion,” and unfer¬
mented wine is used in the celebration of the Eucharist.

This wine is very delicious, and has the full flavour
and aroma of the fresh grape even after being three years
in bottle. It is not boiled, as much “ unfermented wine ”

1 Since I returned I have "been asked more than once, “What are the
results of missions in Hamadan ? ” Among those which appear on the
surface are the spiritual enlightenment of a number of persons whose minds
were blinded by the gross and childish superstitions and the inconceiv¬
able ignorance into which the ancient church of S. Gregory the Illumi¬
nator has fallen. The raising of a higher standard of morals among the
Armenians, so that a decided stigma is coming to be attached to drunken¬
ness and other vices. The bringing the whole of the rising generation of
Armenians under influences which in all respects “make for righteous¬
ness.” The elevation of a large number of women into being the com¬
panions and helps rather than the drudges of men. The bestowing upon
boys an education which fits them for any positions to which they may
aspire in Persia and elsewhere, and creates a taste for intellectual pursuits.
The introduction of European medicine and surgery, and the bringing
them within the reach of the poorest of the people. The breaking down
of some Moslem prejudices against Christians. The gradually ameliorat¬
ing influence exercised by the exhibition of the religion of Jesus Christ in
purity of life, in ceaseless benevolence, in truthfulness and loyalty to engage -
ments , in kind and just dealing, in temperance and self-denial, and the
many virtues which make up Christian discipleship, and the dissemination
in the city and neighbourhood of a higher teaching on the duties of
common life, illustrated by example, not in fits and starts, but through
years of loving and patient labour.

letter xxiv BEVENONS A NOS MOUTONS

165

is here, but the grapes are put into a coarse bag, through
which the juice drops without pressure. The gluten
being - retained by the bag, fermentation does not take
place, and a bottle of the juice, even if left without a
cork, retains its excellence till it dries up.

Hamadan, September 15 .—“ Revenons & nos moutons ”—
the moutons in this instance being my travelling arrange¬
ments. Three roads go to Urmi from Hamadan, one, the
usual caravan route vid Tabriz, the commercial capital of
Persia, and round the north, end of Lake Urmi, very long,
but safe; another called the " Kurdistan route,” which no
charvadar will take by reason of its danger; and a third
by Sujbulak, the capital of Persian Kurdistan, twenty
marches, only five of which are reported as risky. I
decided on the last, but it was only two days ago that I
was able to get a charvadar willing to undertake the
journey. “ It is too late,” they say, “ there are robbers on
the road,” they “ don’t know the way,” or “ provender is
dear,” or “ snow will come oh ” before they can return.
Kerbelai, the excellent fellow who brought my loads from
Burujird, wished to go, and I engaged him gladly, but
afterwards his father came and declared he could not let
him go, for he did not know the way, and would be robbed.
Another man was engaged, but never reappeared.

Soon after I came a tall, well-dressed rich Turk, the
owner of sixty mules, applied for the engagement, and we
think that by certain underhand proceedings, familiar to
the Persian mind, he has driven off other competitors,
and made himself my last resource. I engaged him on
Saturday, and the mules and Mirza went off this morning.
An agreement was drawn up in Persian and English
placing five mules under my absolute control , to halt or
march as I desire, at thirteen pence a day each so long
as I want them, with two men, “ handing over the mules
and men” to me till I reach Urmi, which arrival is to

166

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXIV

suit my own convenience. This was read over twice, and
the Turk sealed it in presence of four witnesses. All his
other mules are going with loads to Urmi, and this
accounts for his great desire to send the five with me. I
have expressly stipulated that I am to have nothing to
do with the big caravan, but am to take my own time.
This Turk has good looks and plausible manners, and
the animals have sound backs, but I distrust him.

The servant difficulty, which threatened to keep me
here indefinitely, is also adjusted. Hassan left me when
I arrived, being unwilling to go to the north of Persia so
late, and he bought a new opium pipe, saying that he
cannot bear the pain and craving of being without it.
He was a fair travelling servant for a Persian, not un¬
reasonably dishonest, and I am sorry to lose him. In
the attempt to replace him a maze of lies, fraud, and
underhand dealing has been passed through. I have at
last engaged Johannes, a strong-looking young Armenian,
speaking Turkish and Persian besides Armenian. He
has never served Europeans, but has learned baking and
the wine trade. He looks much of a cub. For appear¬
ance sake I have armed him with a long gun. He and
Mirza are alike incompetent to make any travelling ar¬
rangements or overcome any difficulties, to discover whe^e
escorts are needed and where they may be dispensed
with, or to meet any emergencies, and as Persian will be
considerably replaced by Turki en route Mirza will be
of less and less use as an interpreter. I cannot get any
recent information about the route, and very little at all.
I see endless difficulties ahead, and a prospect of illus¬
trating in my own experience the dictum often dinned
into my ears, that “ NTo lady ought to travel alone in
Persia.”

This will be my last opportunity of posting a letter
for nearly a month. The Persian post is only exceeded in

letter XXIV POSTS AND TELEGRAPHS

167

unreliability by the Persian telegraph. To register letters
is the only way of securing their safe arrival, and it is
necessary to send a trustworthy man to the Post Offices,
who, after seeing the effacing stamp put upon the postage
stamp, will further insist upon seeing the postmaster put
the letters in the bag. In Tihran the Europeans make
much use of the Legation bags, and the merchants
prefer to trust their letters to private gholams rather
than to the post, while at Isfahan people are often
glad to send their letters by the monthly telegraph
chajpctr rather than run a postal risk. However, a foreign
letter, registered, is pretty safe. The telegraph is worse;
you often have to bribe the telegraph clerk to send the
message, and unless you see it sent it will probably be
destroyed. Of five messages sent by me from Hamadan
one was returned because the British agent in Isfahan
was “not known” (!), two were slower than letters sent the
same day, the fourth took a week, and of the fifth there is
“no information.” Even in this important commercial
city the Post Office is only open for a short time on two
days in the week. I. L. B.

168

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXV

LETTEE XXV

Gaukhaud, Sept 18 .

This is a difficult journey. The road is rarely traversed
by Europeans, the inarches are long, and I am really not
well enough to travel at all, not having been able to
shake off the fever. Cooler days and cold nights are,
however, coming to the rescue.

My Hamadan friends gave me a ladraghah (a parting

escort)—Miss C. M-, Mr. Watson, Pastor Ovannes

and his boy, all on horseback; Mrs. Watson and her
baby on an ass; several servants on foot, and Miss

M- and Mrs. Alexander in a spidery American

buggy with a pair of horses ; Dr. Alexander, a man six feet
two inches high and very thin, “ riding postilion ” on one
of them to get the buggy over difficult places; Ibrahim,
the ladies' factotum , with a gun slung behind him, follow¬
ing on horseback. Two of the ladies and the native
pastor stayed at night. It was not a pleasant return to
camp life, for Johannes is quite ignorant of it, and
everything was at sixes and sevens. Nor was the first
morning pleasant, for the head charvadar, Sharban, came
speaking loud with vehement gesticulation, saying that
if I did not march with the big caravan and halt when
it did, they would only give me one man, and added
sundry other threats. Miss M- scolded him, re¬

minding them of their agreement, and Ibrahim told them
that if they violated it in the way they threatened they

LETTER XXV

EATING WOOD

169

would have to “ eat more wood than they had ever eaten
in their lives on going back to Hamadan.” (“Eating
wood ” is the phrase for being bastinadoed.) A squabble

the first morning is a usual occurrence, and Miss M-

thought it would be all right, and advised me to go on
to Kooltapa, the first stage put down by the charvadars .

Cultivation extends over the eight miles from Hamadan
to Bahar. There are streams, and willows, and various
hamlets with much wood, and Bahar is completely buried
in orchards and poplars. It is a place of 1500 people,
and has well-built houses, small mosques, and molloM 9
schools. It makes gelims (thin carpets), and grows
besides wheat, barley, cotton, and oil seeds, an immense
quantity of fruit, which has a ready market in the city.

Miss M- and Pastor Ovannes escorted me for the

first mile, and, meeting the caravan on their way back,
gave Sharban a parting exhortation. As soon as they
were out of sight he sent back one man, and, in spite
of Mirza’s remonstrances, drove my yabus with the big
caravan—a grievance to start with, as his baggage animals
were so heavily loaded that they could not go even two
miles an hour, and I have taken five, though I only
need three, in order to get over the ground at three miles
an hour. I am obliged to have Johannes with me, as
comparatively little Persian is spoken by the common
people along this road.

Beyond Bahar the road lies over elevated table-lands,
destitute of springs and streams, and now scorched up.
One or two small villages, lying off the track, and some
ruinous towers on eminences, built for watching robbers,
scarcely break the monotony of this twenty-four miles’
march.

At three, having ascended nearly 1000 feet, we
reached the small and very poor walled village of Kool¬
tapa, below which are some reservoirs, a series of pools

170

JOUBNEYS IN PEESIA

LETTER XXV

connected by a stream, and the camping-ground, a fine
piece of level sward, much of which was already occupied
by two Turkish caravans, with 100 horses in each, and
a man to every ten. The loads were all carefully stacked,
covered with rugs, and watched by very large and fierce
dogs.

I lay down in the shuldari, feeling really ill. Four
o’clock, five o’clock, sunset came, but no caravan. Johannes
was quite ill, but went to the village to hire a samovar,
and to try to get tea and supplies. There was neither
tea nor samovar, and no supplies but horse food and
some coarse cheese and blanket bread, too sour and dirty
to be eaten. Long after dark they brought a little milk.
Boy was locked up in a house, and I rolled myself in his
blanket and the few wraps I had with me, and, making
the best of circumstances, tried to sleep; but it was too
cold, and the position too perilous, and Johannes, who had
loaded his gun with ball, overcome with fatigue, instead
of watching was sound asleep. At eleven Mirza’s voice,
though it said, “Madam, these charvadars won’t do for
you, they are wicked men,” was very welcome. They
had stopped half-way, and four of them, including
Sharban’s father, had dragged him off his horse with
some violence, and had unloaded it. He appealed to
the village headman, who, after wrangling with them
for some hours, persuaded them to let him have a mule,
and come to Kooltapa with the servants’ tent, my bed,
and other comforts, and sent two armed guides with him.

The larger tent was pitched and I went to bed, and
not having the nettings which hang from the roof of my
Cabul tent, and are a complete security against mere
pilferers, I put all I could under the blankets and
arranged the other things within reanh of my hand in
the middle of the tent. I also burned a light, having-
learned that Kooltapa is a dangerous place. At mid-

LETTER XXV

ROBBERY

171

night the Turkish caravans started with noise inconceiv¬
able, yells of charvadars , shouts of village hoys, squeals
of horses, barking of big dogs, firing of guns, and jangling
of 200 sets of bells, all sobering down into a grandly
solemn sound as of many church steeples on the march.

I went out to see that all was right, found my serv¬
ants sleeping heavily and had not the heart to awake
them, found the mercury a degree below the freezing
point, and lay down, covering my head with a blanket,
for the shivering stage of fever had come on. The night
was very still, and after some time I heard in the still¬
ness the not uncommon noise of a dog (as I thought)
fumbling outside my tent. I took no notice till he
seemed getting in, when I jumped up with an adjuration,
saw the floor vacant, ’ and heard human feet running
away. I ran out and fired blank cartridge several times
in the direction of the footsteps, hoping that the flashes
would reveal the miscreant, but his movements had been
more agile than mine. Mirza ran into the village and
informed the ketchuda , but he took it very quietly and
said that the robbers were Turks, which was false. I
offered a large reward, but it was useless.

When daylight came and I investigated my losses I
found myself without any of the things which I have
come to regard as indispensable. My cork helmet, boots,
gloves, sun umbrella, stockings, scanty stock of under¬
clothing, all my brushes, towels, soap, scissors, needles,
thread, thimble, the strong combination knife which Aziz
coveted and which was used three or four times every
day, a large silk handkerchief a hundred years old which I
wore as a protection from the sun, my mask, revolver case,
keys, pencils, paint brushes, sketches, notes of journeys,
and my one mug were all gone. If anything could be
worse, my gold pen, with which I have written for the
last eighteen years, had also disappeared. Furthermore, to

172

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXV

relieve the tedium of the long wait during the pitching of
my tent, and of the hour’s rest which I am obliged to
take on my bed after getting in, I was “ doing ” a large
piece of embroidery from an ancient Irish pattern,
arabesques on dark, apricot-coloured coarse silk in low-
toned greens, pinks, and blues, all outlined in gold. This
work has been a real pleasure to me, and I relied on it
for recreation for the rest of my journey. Gone too,
with all the silks and gold for finishing it! Now I have
nothing to do when the long marches are over, and as I
can scarcely write with this pen and have also lost my
drawing materials, a perspective of dulness opens out
before me. If Sharban had not disobeyed orders and
stayed behind with my tent all this would not have hap¬
pened. I now realise what it is to be without what to a
European are “ the necessaries of life,” and I can scarcely
replace any of them for three weeks.

The caravan came in at nine, and I soon got into my
tent and spent much of the day in making a head-cover
by rolling lint and wadding in handkerchiefs and sewing
them up into a sort of turban with a leather-needle and
packthread obtained from Mirza. I was able to get from
a villager a second-hand pair of ghevas ,—most service¬
able shoes, with “ uppers ” made of stout cotton webbing
knitted here by the women and among the Bakhtiaris by
the men, and with soles of rag sewn and pressed tightly
together and tipped with horn. These and the “ uppers”
are connected with very stout leather brought to a point
at the toe and heel. Ghevas are the most comfortable,
and for dry weather and mountain-climbing the most
indestructible of shoes. Thus provided I have to face
the discomfort caused by the other losses as best I may.
“ It’s no use crying over spilt milk! ”

The day before, when the charvaclars pulled Mirza off
his mule and he threatened them with the agreement,

LETTER XXV

SHARBAN COWED

173

they replied that it was false that they had made any
agreement except to take me to Urmi in twenty days,
and that they were not afraid of the Prince Governor of
Hamadan, “ for he is always asleep, and the Feringhi is
only a Khanum” I sent to them that I wished to leave
Kooltapa at noon. They replied that they were not going
to move. I was in their power, for they had received
advance pay for seven days, and I said no more about
moving. However, at noon I sent Mirza to read the
agreement to them, and Sharban and his father could not
deny the authenticity of the seal, and a superior villager, *
who could read, testified that Mirza had read it correctly.

They then saw that they had put themselves into a
“ tight place,” and sent that they desired to humble them¬
selves, saying, “ your foot is on our eyes,” a phrase of
humility. I took no notice of them all day, but at
sunset sent for Sharban, and telling Mirza not to soften
down my language, spoke to him in few words. “ You
have broken your agreement, and you will have to take
the consequences. Your conduct is disgraceful and
abominable, so cowardly that you don’t deserve to be
called a man, it is only what one would expect from a
pidar sag. Do you mean to keep your agreement or
not ?” He began to whine, and threw himself at my feet,
but I reluctantly assumed a terrific voice, and saying
“ KhamosK ! Boro ! ” (Be silent! Begone !), shut the tent.

Bijar, September 21. — No Persian ever believes
your word, and these poor fellows did not believe that
I had letters to the governors en route. They are now
terribly frightened, and see that a Feringhi, even though
“only a Khannm” cannot be maltreated with impunity.
When I arrived here, even before I sent my letter of
introduction, the Governor sent a farash-bashi with
compliments and offers of hospitality, and afterwards a
strong guard. Then Sharban piteously entreated that I

174

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXV

would not take him before the Governor, and would not
make him “ eat wood,” and his big caravan at last has
chimed away on its northward journey to be seen no
more. Thus, by acting a part absolutely hateful to me,
the mutiny was quelled, and things are now going on
all right, except that Sharban avails himself of small
opportunities of being disobliging. I do sincerely detest
the cowardliness of the Oriental nature, which is probably
the result of ages of oppression by superiors.

It is so vexing that the policy of trust which has-
served me so well on all former journeys has to be aban¬
doned, and that one of suspicion has to be substituted
for it. I am told by all Europeans that from the Shah
downwards no one trusts father, brother, wife, superior,
or inferior. Every one walks warily and suspiciously
through a maze of fraud and falsehood. If one asks a
question, or any one expresses an opinion, or tells what
passes for a fact, he looks over each shoulder to see that
no one is listening. 1

A noble Persian said to me, “ Lying is rotting this
country. Persians tell lies before they can speak.”
Almost every day when one is wishing to be trustful,
kind, and considerate, one encounters unmitigated lying,
cowardly bluster, or dexterously-planned fraud, and the
necessity of being always on guard is wearing and re¬
pulsive.

Here is another specimen of the sort of net which is
woven round a traveller. At Kooltapa, after the theft,
I sent to the ketchuda for a night-watchman, and he

1 Apparently it was always thus, for on a tablet at Persepolis occurs a
passage in which the vice of lying is mentioned as among the external
dangers which threatened the mighty empire of the Medes and Persians.
“Says Darius the king: May Ormuzd bring help to me, with the deities
who guard my house ; and may Ormuzd protect this province from slavery,
from decrepitude, from lying ; let not war, nor slavery, nor decrepitude,
nor lies obtain power over this province.”

letter xxv SOJFARS AND BO AD- GUARDS

175

replied that he could not give one without an order,
and that as he knew only Turki, my letter in Persian
from the Prince Governor of Hamadan was nothing to
him. Later, a sowar, who said he was also a “ road-
guard,'” came and said that he only was responsible for
the safety of travellers, and that I could not get a watch*
man from the ketchuda , as no one could pass the gates
after sunset without his permission. I already knew that
there were no gates. He said he was entitled to five
Jcrans a night for protecting the tents. (The charge is
one kran, or under exceptional circumstances two.) I
told him we were quite capable of protecting ourselves.
Late in the evening an apparently respectable man came
and warned us to keep a good look-out, as this sowar and
another had vowed to rob our tents out of revenge for
not having been employed. These men, acting as road-
guards, are a great terror to the people. They levy black¬
mail on caravans and take food for their horses and them¬
selves, “ the pick of everything,” without payment. The
people also accuse them of committing, or being accessory
to, the majority of highway robberies. The women who
came to condole with me on my losses accused these men
of being the thieves, but it was younger feet which
clattered away from my tent.

Sharban, thoroughly subdued for the time, and his
servant watched, and to show that they were awake fired
their guns repeatedly. The nightly arrangement now is
to secure a watchman from the ketchuda; to walk round
the camp two or three times every night to see that he
is awake, and that Boy is all right; to secure the yekdan
to my bed with a stout mule-chain, and to rope the table
and chair on which I put my few remaining things also
to the bed, taking care to put a tin can with a knife in
it on the very edge of the table, so that if the things are
tampered with the clatter may awake me.

176

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LETTER XXV

After leaving BLooltapa, treeless country becomes
bushless, and nothing combustible is to be got but
animal fuel. Manure is far too precious for this pur¬
pose to be wasted on the fields. Men with asses follow
caravans and collect it in bags. The yards into which
the flocks and herds are driven at night have now been
cleaned out, and in every village all the women are
occupied in moulding the manure into kiziks or cakes
fully a foot long and four inches thick. These, after
being dried in the sun, are built up into conical stacks,
often exceeding twenty feet in height, and are plastered
with a layer of the same material. The making of this
artificial fuel is one of the most important industries of
Persia, and is exclusively in the hands of women. The
preparation of the winter stock takes from six to fourteen
weeks, and is very hard wet work. The fuel gives out
a good deal of heat, but burns fast. Its combustible
qualities are increased by an admixture of cut straw.
At this season, between the colossal black stacks of fuel
and the conical piles of winter “ keep ” upon the roofs,
the villages are almost invisible.

The march to Gaukhaud was over twenty miles „of
rolling scorched table-lands—baked mud, without in¬
habitants. Gaukhaud and the villages for fifty miles
farther are unwalled, but each house, with its cattle-yard
and upper and underground folds, has a massive mud
wall sloping slightly inwards, with an entrance closed
by a heavy wooden gate, strengthened with iron. The
upper sheep-folds have thick stone doors three feet
square. Each house is a fortress, and nothing is to
be seen above its walls but a quantity of beehive roofs
and a number of truncated cones of winter fodder on a
central platform.

The female costume is also different. The women,
unveiled, bold-faced, and handsome in the Meg Merrilees

LETTER XXV

AN UNTRAINED SERVANT

177

style, wear black sleeveless jackets vandyked and tasselled,
red skirts, and black handkerchiefs rolled round their heads.
Little Persian is spoken or even understood, and every¬
thing indicates that the limit of Persia proper, i.e. the
Persia of Persians, has been passed. Gaukhaud is a village
of 350 houses, grows wheat, barley, grapes, and melons;
and though a once splendid caravanserai on a height is
roofless and ruined, and the village has no better water
than an irrigation ditch, it is said to be fairly prosperous.

The march to Babarashan is for twenty miles along a
featureless irrigated valley about a mile wide, with grass
and stubble, several beehive villages, and mud hills never
over 150 feet high on either side. Crossing a brick
bridge over a trifling stream, and passing through the
large village of Tulwar, where men who were burying a
corpse politely laid fried funeral-cakes flavoured with
sesamum on my saddle-bow, -we ascended over low
scorched hills, much ploughed for winter sowing, to the
beehive village of Babarashan, of 18 0 houses, abundantly
supplied with water, where we camped close to some
tents of the Kara Tepe and a large caravan. The dust
blown across the camp from the threshing-floors was ob¬
noxious but inevitable. The “ sharp threshing instruments
having teeth ” are not used in this region, but mobs of
animals, up to a dozen, tied together, oxen, cows, horses,
and asses, are driven over the wheat.

I am finding the disadvantages of having an untrained
servant. Johannes that evening ran hither and thither
without method, never finished anything, spent an hour
in bargaining for a fowl, failed to get his fire to burn,
consequently could not cook or make tea, and I went
supperless to bed. The same confusion prevailed the
next morning, but things have been better since. No
life is so charming as camp life, but incompetent servants
are a great drawback.

VOL. II n

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JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXV

Another uninteresting march of twenty miles over
high table-lands and through a valley surrounded by
mud hills, with quaint outcrops of broken rock on their
summits, and a pass through some picturesque rocky hills
brought us into a basin among mountains, in which
stands the rather important town of Bijar in the midst
of poplars, willows, apricots, and vines. Bijar is said
to have 5000 inhabitants. It has a Governor for itself
and the surrounding district, and a garrison of a regiment
of infantry and 100 sowars to keep the turbulent frontier
Kurds in order. It has ruinous mud walls, no regular
bazars, only shops at intervals; fully a third is in ruins,
and most of the houses and even the Governor’s palace are
falling into decay. It is, however, accounted a thriving
place, and is noted for gelims and carpenters’ work. It
has four caravanserais, hardly habitable, however, seven
hammams , and a few mosques and mollaJis ’ schools. It
has an air of being quite out of the world. I have been
here two days, and as foreigners are very rarely seen, the
greater part of the population has strolled past my tent.

I camped as usual outside the walls, near a small
spring, and soon a farash-bashi came from the Governor,
with a message expressive of much annoyance at my
having “camped in the wilderness when I was their
guest, and they would have given me a safe camping-
ground in the palace garden.” Mirza took my introduc¬
tion to him, and he sent a second message saying that the
next three marches were “ very dangerous,” and appointed
an hour for an interview. Soon eight infantrymen,
well uniformed and set up, with rifles and fixed bayonets,
arrived and mounted guard round my tent, changing
every six hours. This completed Sharban’s discomfiture.

Yarious difficulties arose on Sunday, and much against
my will I had to call on the Governor. He received me
in a sort of durbar . A great number of men, litigants

LETTER XXV

BIJAR COURTESY

179

and others, crowded the corridors and reception-rooms.
He looked bloated and dissipated, and seemed scarcely
sober. He sat on cushions on the floor, with a row of
scribes and mollahs on his right, and many fctrashes and
soldiers stood about the door. Seyyids, handsome and
haughty, glanced at me contemptuously, and the drunken
giggle of the Khan and the fixed scowl of the motion¬
less row of scribes were really overpowering. Tea was
produced, but the circumstances were so disagreeable
that I did not wait for the conventional third cup.
The Khan said that the ladies are in the country a
few miles off, and hoped I would visit them, that some
marches on the road are unsafe, and that he would give
me a letter which would be useful in procuring escorts
after I left his jurisdiction, and he has since sent it.
He was quite courteous, as indeed all Persians of the
upper classes are, but I hope never again to pass through
the ordeal of calling upon a Moslem without a European
escort.

Later, the principal wife of the military commander of
the district called with a train of shrouded women, fol¬
lowed by servants bringing an abundant dinner, with
much 'fruit. She came to ask me to take up my quarters
in the very handsome house which is her husband's, very
near my tent. After a good deal of intelligent conversa¬
tion she asked if I had a husband and children, and on
my replying in the negative she expressed very kindly
sympathy, but added, “ There are things far worse, things
which can never be where, as among you, there is only
one wife. One may have a husband and children, and
yet, God knows, be made nearly mad by troubles/' and
she looked as if indeed her sorrows were great. Doubt¬
less a young wife has been installed as favourite, or there
is a divorce impending.

TaJcautapcc, September — This is a great grain-

180

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LETTER XXV

growing region, and by no means nnprosperous, but it
only yields one crop a year, the land is ploughed im¬
mediately after harvest, and the irrigation is cut off
until sowing-time. Consequently nothing can exceed the
ugliness of the aspect of the country at this time. There
is not one redeeming feature, and on the long marches
there is rarely anything to please or interest the eye.
On the march from Bijar there was not a green thing
except some poplars and willows by a stream, not a
blade of grass, not a green “weed,”—nothing but low
mud hills, with their sides much ploughed and the
furrows baked hard, and unploughed gravelly stretches
covered sparsely with scorched thistles.

Eight miles of an easy descent of 1500 feet brought
us to the Kuril Uzen, a broad but fordable stream, on the
other side of which is Salamatabad, a village consisting
chiefly of the large walled gardens and houses of the
Governor of Bijar. A little higher up there is a solid
eight-arched stone bridge, over 300 feet long. This
Kizil Uzen is one of the most important streams in north
Persia. It drains a very large area, and after a long and
devious course enters the Caspian Sea under the name of
the Sefid Rud. Eleven miles from this place I crossed
the lofty crest of the ridge which divides the drainage
basins of the Kizil Uzen and Urmi. A number of
sowars came out and escorted me through a gateway down
a road with high walls and buildings on both sides to an
inner gateway leading to the Khan's andarun. Here we
all dismounted, but the next step was not obvious, for the
heavy wooden gate which secludes the andarun was
strongly barred, and showed no symptoms of welcome.
An aged eunuch put his melancholy head out of a hole
at the side, and said that the ladies were expecting me
and that food was ready for the animals and the servants,
but still the gate moved not. I asked if Mirza could go

letter xxv A VISIT UNDER DIFFICULTIES

181

■with me to interpret, the sowars suggesting that he could
be screened behind a curtain, quite a usual mode of dis¬
posing of such a difficulty. The eunuch returned, and
with him the Khan’s mother, a fiendish-looking middle-
aged woman, who looked through the peep-hole, but on
seeing a good-looking young man drew back, and said very
definitely that no man could be admitted, especially in the
absence of the Khan. All the men were warned off, and
the door was opened so as just to allow of my entrance
and no more.

The principal wife received me in a fine lofty room
with fretwork windows opening on a courtyard with a
fountain in it and a few pomegranates, and a crowd of
Per sian , Kurdish, and negro women, with all manner of
babies. The lady is from Tihran, and her manners have
some of the ease and polish of the capital. It is still
the Moharrem, and she was enveloped in a black chadar,
and wore as her sole ornament a small diamond-studded
watch as a locket. Her mother-in-law, who, like many
mothers-in-law in Persia, fills the post of duenna to the
establishment, frightened me by the expression of her
handsome face and her sneering, fiendish laugh. It must
be admitted that there was much to amuse her, for
my slender stock of badly-pronounced Persian is the
Persian of muleteers rather than of polite circles, and
she mimi cked every word I uttered, looking all the time
like one of Michael Angelo’s “ Fates.”

The room was very prettily curtained, and furnished
with Russian materials, they told me, and the lithographs,
the photographs and their frames, and the many “ knick-
knacks ” which adorned the tables and recesses were all
Russian. They showed me several small clocks and very
ingenious watches, all Russian also. They said that the
goods in the shops at Bijar are chiefly Russian, and
added, “ The English don’t try to suit our taste as the

182

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LETTER XXV

Russians do.” The principal lady expressed a wish for
greater liberty, though she qualified it by saying that
men who love their wives could not let them go about as
the English ladies do in Tihran. Dinner had been pre¬
pared, a huge Persian dinner, but they kindly allowed me
to take tea instead, and produced with it gaz (manna)
and a cake flavoured with asafoetida. When I came to
an end of my Persian, and they of their ideas, I said
farewell, and was followed to the gate by the mocking
laugh of the duenna.

The sowars asserted that the next farsakh was “ very
dangerous,” so we kept together. Wild, desolate, rolling,
scrubless open country it is, the spurs of the Kurdish
hills. The sowars were very fussy and did a great deal
of galloping and scouting, saying that bands of robber
horsemen are often met with on this route, who, being
Sunnis, would rejoice in attacking Shiahs. Doubtless
they magnified the risk in order to enhance the value of
their services. In the early afternoon we reached the
Kurdish village of Karabulak, sixty mud hovels, on the
flaring mud hillside, the great fodder stacks on the flat
roofs alone making the houses obvious. The water is very
bad and limited in quantity, and of milk there was none.
The people are very poor and unprosperous, and a meaner
set of donkeys and oxen than those which were treading
out the corn close to my tent I have not seen.

Though most of the inhabitants are Kurds, there are
some Persians and Turks, and each nationality has its own
Jeetchuda. Towards evening the sowars came to me with
the three Tcetchudas, who, they said, would arrange for a
guard, and for my escort the next day. I did not like
this, for the sowars had good double-barrelled guns, and
were in Persian uniform, and had been given me for
three days, but there was no help for it. The Jcetchudas
said that they could not guarantee my safety that night

LETTER xxv A NOCTURNAL DISTURBANCE

183

with, less than ten men, and I saw in the whole affair a
design on my very slender purse. A monetary panic
set in before I reached Hamadan : the sovereign had fallen
from thirty-four to twenty-eight Tcrans, the Jews would
not take English paper at any price, I could not cash my
circular notes, and it was only through the kindness of
the American missionaries that I had any money at all,
and I had only enough for 1 ordinary expenses as far as
Urmi. I told them that I could only pay two men, and
dismissed the sowars with a present quite out of propor¬
tion to the time they had been with me.

During these arrangements the hubbub was indescrib¬
able, but the men were very pleasant. Three hours later
the sowars returned, saying that after riding eight miles
they had met a messenger with a letter from the Khan,
telling them to go on another day with me. I asked
to see the letter, and then they said it was a verbal
message. They had never been outside of Karabulak!
I tell this in detail to show how intricate are the meshes
of the net in which a traveller on these unfrequented
roads is entangled.

Later, ten wild-looking Kurds with long guns, various
varieties of old swords, and long knives, lighted great
watch-fires on either side of my tent, and put Boy
between them. This pet likes fires, and lies down fear¬
lessly among the men, close to the embers.

A little below my camp was a solitary miserable-
looking melon garden with a low mud wall. At mid¬
night I was awakened by the loud report of several
guns close to my tent, and confused shouts of men, with
outcries of women and children. The watchmen saw two
men robbing the melon garden, shot one, and captured
both. I gave a present to the guards in the morning,
and the hetchudas took half of it.

The march to Jafirabad is over the same monotonous

184

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXV

country, over ever-ascending rolling hills, with small
plateaux among them, very destitute of water, and
consequently of population, the village of Khashmaghal,
with 150 houses, and two ruined forts, being the one
object of interest.

On the way to Jafirabad is the small village of
Nasrabad, once a cluster of semi-subterranean hovels,
inhabited by thieves. Some years ago the present Shah
halted near it on one of his hunting excursions, and
observing the desolation of the country, and water
running to waste, gave money and lands to bribe a
number of families to settle there. There are now sixty
houses surrounded by much material wealth. The Shah
still divides 100 tumans yearly among the people, and
takes a very small tribute. Nasr-ed-Din has many mis¬
deeds to answer for, many despotic acts, and some blood¬
shed, but among the legions of complaints of oppression
and grinding exactions which I hear in most places, I
have not heard one of the tribute fixed by him—solely
of the exactions and merciless rapacity of the governors
and their subordinate officials.

Jafirabad, a village of 100 houses in the midst of
arable land, has one of those camping-grounds of smooth
green sward at once so tempting and so risky, and we all
got rheumatism in the moist chilliness of the night. The
mercury is still falling slowly and steadily, and the sun
is only really hot between ten and four. Jafirabad is a
prosperous village, owned, as many in this region are, by
the Governor of Tabriz, who is merciful as to tribute.

Everything was wet, even inside my tent. It was
actually cold. In the yellow dawn I heard Mirza’s
cheerful voice saying, “ Madam, they think your horse is
dead! ” The creature had been stretched out motionless
for two hours in the midst of bustle and packing. I told
them to take off his nose-bag, which was nearly full, but

LETTER XXV

A “DANGEROUS MARCH

185

still he did not move. I went up to him and said
sharply, “ Come, get up, old Boy” and he struggled slowly
to his feet, shook himself, and at once fumbled in my
pockets for food, thumping me with his head as usual
when he failed to find any. He was benumbed by
sleeping on the damp ground in the hoar-frost. The
next night he chose to sleep under the verandah of my
tent, snoring loudly. He has became quite a friend and
companion.

The sov)ars finally left me there, and I was escorted
by the Jcetchuda ,, a very pleasant intelligent man of
considerable property, with his two retainers. The
next stage has the reputation of being “ very dangerous,”
and many people anxious to go to the next village
joined my caravan. My tents were guarded by eight
wild-looking village Kurds, armed with clubbed sticks
and long guns. I asked the Jcetchuda if two were not
enough, and he said that I should only pay for two,
the others were there for his satisfaction, that two might
combine to rob me, but that more would watch each
other, and that the robbers of this region do not pilfer in
ones and twos, but swoop down on tents in large parties.

The next march is chiefly along valleys among low
hills. The Jcetchuda did much scouting, not without
good reason, and we all kept close together. A party of
well-mounted men rode down upon us and joined us.
Mirza sidled up to me, and in his usual cheery tones
said “ Madam, these are robbers.” They were men of a
well-known band, under one Hassan Khan. They spoke
Persian, and Mirza kept me informed of what they were
saying. They said they had been out a night and a day
without success, and they must take my baggage and
horse—they wanted horses badly. The Jcetchuda , to
whom they were well known, remonstrated with them,
and the parley went on for some time, they insisting, and

186

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXV

he threatening them with the regiment from Bijar, but
all he said was of no use, till he told them that I was
the wife of the Governor of Tabriz, that I had been
paying a visit to Hamad an, and was then going to be the
guest of the ladies of Hadji Baba, Governor of Achaz,
that I had been committed to him, and that he was
answerable for my safety. “ You know I am a man of
my word,” was the conclusion of this brilliant lie, which
served its purpose, for they said they knew him, and
would not rob me then.

They rode with us for some miles, in fact the leader,
a sinister-looking elderly man, in a turban and brown
abba like an Arab, rode so close to me that the barrel
of his gun constantly touched my saddle. They carried
double-barrelled guns besides revolvers. On coming to
a part of the country where the hetchuda said the road
became safe, I sent the caravan on with the servants, the
band having gone in another direction, and halted for two
hours. Riding on again, and turning sharply round a large
rock, there they all were, dismounted, and rushed out upon
us. A m$Ue ensued, and as I then had only two men they
were two to one, and would certainly have overpowered
my escort had not several horsemen appeared in the
distance, when they mounted and rode away. One of
the horses was scratched, and I got an accidental cut on
my wrist. They believed that I had a considerable sum
of money with me. The hetchuda of Takautapa said
that they had robbed his village of some cattle a few
days before.

Takautapa is a village of thirty-five houses, with two
shops, and a gunsmith who seemed to drive a “roaring
trade.” For three days I have scarcely seen an unarmed
man. Shepherds, herdsmen, ploughmen, travellers, all
carry arms. Mirza went to the Governor of Achaz, six
miles off, with my letter from the Governor of Bijar, and

LETTER XXV

OFFICIAL POLITENESS

18V

he was most courteous. He sent his secretary to ask me
to spend a day or two at his house, and told him, in case
I could not, to remain for the night to arrange for my
comfort and safety, an order very efficiently carried out. 1

He sent word also that if I could not accept his
hospitality I was still to he his guest, and not to pay for
anything—a kindness which, for several reasons, I never
accept. He added, that though the road was safe, he
should send three sowars “ to show the Khanuon honour,”
and they had received strict orders not to accept any
present. The men who attempted to rob my caravan
spent the night here, and, as they had robbed them
before, the villagers were very glad of the protection of
the Governor’s scribe and my sowars.

Sujbulak , October 0.—Having been “ courteously en¬
treated,” I sent on the caravan and servants at day¬
break, and, having the sowars with me, was able to make
the march to Geokahaz at a fast pace. The sowars
were three wild-looking Kurds, well mounted, and in
galloping Boy had to exert himself considerably to keep
up with them, and they obviously tried to force his pace.

The day was cool, cool enough for a sheepskin coat,
and the air delightful. The halcyon season for Persian
travelling has come, the difficulties are over, and the
fever has left me. Brown, bare, and bushless as are the
rolling hills over which the road passes, it would be im-

1 I have very great pleasure in acknowledging a heavy debt of gratitude
to Persian officials, high and low, for the courtesy with which I was
uniformly treated. It is my practice in travelling to make my arrange¬
ments very carefully, to attend personally to every detail, and to give
other people as little trouble as possible, but in Persia, when off the beaten
track, the insecurity of some of the roads, the need of guards at night
when one is living in camp, and the frequent insubordination and
duplicity of charvccdars render a reference to the local authorities occa¬
sionally imperative; and not only has the needed help been given, but it
has been given courteously , and I have always been treated as respectfully
as an English lady would expect to be in her own country.

188

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXV

possible not to enjoy the long gallops over the stoneless
soil, the crisp, bracing air, the pure bine of the glittering
sky, and the changed altitude of the sun, which, from
having been my worst foe is now a genial friend. True,
the country over which I pass is not interesting, but, as
everywhere in Persia, craggy mountains are in sight,
softened by a veil of heavenly blue, and the country, though
uninteresting, suggests pleasant thoughts of fertility, an
abundant harvest, and an industrious and fairly prosper¬
ous people. 1 Turki is now almost exclusively spoken.

The whole of that days route was an ascent, and the
halting-place was nearly 9000 feet in altitude. I crossed
the Sarakh river by a three-arched brick bridge, and after¬
wards the Gardan-i-Tir-Maelii, from which there is an
extensive view, and reached Geokahaz by a rough path on
the hillside frequently dipping into deep gulches, now dry.
The wettest of these is close to the village, and is utilised
for a flour-mill. Springs abound, and as Persian soil
brings forth abundantly wherever there is water, the
village, which is Kurdish, confessed to being extremely
prosperous. Its seven threshing-floors were in the full
tide of winnowing with the fan, and so complete is the
process that nothing but the wheat is left on the firm,

1 The general verdict of travellers in Persia is, that misrule, heavy-
taxation, the rapacity and villainy of local governors, and successive
famines have reduced its small stationary population to a condition of
pitiable poverty and misery, and this is doubtless true of much of
the country, and of parts of it which I have traversed myself. But I
can only write of things as I found them, and on this journey of 300
miles from Hamadan to Urmi I heard comparatively little grumbling.
Many of the villages are contented with their taxation and landlords, in
others there are decided evidences of prosperity, and everywhere there is
abundance of material comfort, not according to our ideas, but theirs.
As to clothing and food , the condition of the cultivators of that part of
western Persia compares favourably with that of the rayats in many parts
of India. But just taxation and a complete reform in the administration
of justice are needed equally by the prosperous and unprosperous parts
of Persia.

letter XXV

MOSLEM PILGRIMS

189

hardened gypsum floor, recalling the Baptist’s words.
Whose fan is in his hand, and he will throughly
purge his floor.” The wheat was everywhere being
gathered “ into the garner ”—the large upright clay re¬
ceptacles holding twenty bushels each with which every
house is supplied.

This villag e of only 200 houses owns 7000 sheep
and goats, 60 horses and mares, and 400 head of cattle,
and its tribute is only 230 tumans. It and very many
other villages belong to Haidar Khan, Governor of
Achaz, of whom the villagers speak as a lenient lord.
Apricot and pear orchards abound, and on a piece of
grass in one of these I found my camp most delectably
pitched. The ketchuda and several other men came to
meet me; indeed, the istiklal consisted of over twenty
Kurdish horsemen. The village was absolutely crowded
with men and horses, 200 pilgrims being lodged there
for the night.

The road at intervals all day had been enlivened by
long files of well-mounted men in bands of 100 each on
their way to the shrines of Kerbela, south of Babylon, to
accumulate “merit,” receive certificates, and be called
Kerlelai for the remainder of their lives. Superb-looking
men in the very prime of life most of them are, cheerful
and ruddy, wearing huge black sheepskin caps shaped like
mushrooms, high tan-leather boots, gaily embroidered,
into which their full trousers are tucked, and brown
sheepskin coats covering not only themselves but the
bodies of their handsome fiery horses. A few elderly
unveiled women were among them. They ride mostly
on pads with their bedding and clothing under them, and
their kalians and cooking utensils hanging at the sides.
All are armed with guns and swords. I met over
1000 of them, most of them Russian subjects, and those
who had occasion to pass in front of my tent vindicated

190

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXV

their claim to he the subjects of a civilised power by
bowing low as often as they saw me. They are really
splendid men, and had many elements of the picturesque.

The 200 who halted in Geokahaz were under the
command of a Seyyid who, before starting, beat about
for recruits, and levied from them about five Jcrans per
head. On the journey he receives great honour as a
descendant of the Prophet. He has a baggage mule and
a tent, and the “ pilgrims ” under his charge gratefully
cook his food, wait on him, groom his animal, water the
dusty ground round his tent, shampoo his limbs, keep
the flies from him, and are rewarded for the performance
of all menial offices by being allowed to kiss his hand.
On his part he chooses the best stations and the most
fortunate days for starting, and he pledges him self to
protect his flock from the woful plots of malignant genii
and the effects of the evil eye. On the journey he both
preaches and recites tales.

The Seyyid in charge of this party was a man of com¬
manding jphysique and deadly pallor of countenance.
As frigid as marble, out of which his statuesque face
might well have been carved, he received the attention
paid to him with the sublime indifference of a statue of
Buddha. The odour of an acknowledged sanctity hung
about him, and pride of race and pride of asceticism
dwelt upon his handsome features. He spent the
evening in preaching a sermon, and, by a carefully-
arranged exhibition of emotion, studied to perfection,
wound up his large audience to a pitch of enthusiasm.
The subject was the virtues of Houssefn, and what preacher
could take such a text without enlarging finally upon the
martyrdom of that “ sainted ” man ? Then the auditors
.wept and howled 'and beat their breasts, and long after
I left the singular scene, trained “ cheers ” for the Prophet,
for Ali, and for the martyred Hassan and Houssein, led

letter XXV

THE SHIAH CONFESSION

191

by the Seyyid, rang out upon the still night air. At
midnight, and again at four, a solitary bell-like voice
proclaimed over the sleeping village, “ There is but one
God, and Mohammed is His prophet, and Ali is His
lieutenant”; and 200 voices repeated grandly in unison,
« There is but one God, holy and true, and Mohammed is
His prophet, and Ali is His lieutenant.” The addition
of the words " holy and true ” to the ordinary formula is
very striking, and is, I believe, quite unusual. The
Seyyid preached in Persian, and the pilgrims speak it.

In such caravans a strictly democratic feeling prevails.
All yield honour to the Seyyid, but otherwise all are
equal. No matter what the social differences are, the
pilgrims eat the same food, lodge in the same rooms, sit
round the same bivouac fire, and use towards each other
perfect freedom of speech—a like errand and a like creed
constituting a simple bond of brotherhood.

Geokahaz is the first Kurdish village in which I
have really mixed with the people. I found them cordial,
hospitable, and in every way pleasant. The ketchuda's
wife called on me, and later I returned the visit.
Each house or establishment has much the same externals,
being walled round, and having between the wall and
house an irregular yard, to which access is gained by a
gate of plaited osiers. Within are very low and devious
buildings, with thick mud walls. The atrium , an alcove
with plastered walls, decorated with circles and other
figures in red, is the gathering-place of the men, with
their guns and pipes.

It is necessary to stoop very low to enter the house
proper, for the doorway is only three feet high, and is
protected by a heavy wooden door strengthened by iron
clamps. The interior resembles a cavern, owing to the
absence of windows, the labyrinth of rooms not six feet
high, the gnarled, unbarked trees which support the roofs,

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LETTER XXV

the dimness, the immense thickness of the mud walls,
the rays of light coming in through protected holes in
the roof, the horses tethered to the tree-trunks, and the
smoke. The “living-room” is a small recess, rendered
smaller by a row, of clay receptacles for grain as high as
the roof on one side, and a row of oil-jars, each large
enough to hold a man, on the other. A fire of animal
fuel in a hole in the middle of the floor emitted much
pungent smoke and little heat. A number of thick
wadded quilts were arranged for me, and tea was served
in Eussian glass cups from a Eussian samovar.

The wife was handsome, and never in any country
have I seen a more beautiful girl than the daughter, who
might have posed for a Madonna. They told me that
for the five months of winter the snow comes “ as high
as the mouth,” and that there is no egress from the
village. The men attend to the horses and stock, and
the women weave carpets, but much of the time is spent
by both in sleep.

Accompanied by this beautiful girl, who is graceful as
well as beautiful, and an old servant, I paid many visits,
and found all the houses arranged in the same fashion.
I was greatly impressed by their scrupulous cleanliness.
The floors of hardened clay are as clean as sweeping
can make them, and the people are clean in dress and
person. The women, many of whom are very handsome,
are unveiled, and do not even wear the chadar. The
very becoming head-dress is a black coronet, from which
silver coins depend by silver chains. A red kerchief is
loosely knotted over the back of the head, on which
heavy plaits of hair are looped up by silver pins. This
girl passed with me through the crowds of strange men
unveiled, with a simplicity and maidenly dignity which
were very pleasing. It was refreshing to see the hand¬
some faces, erect carriage, and firm, elastic walk of these

LETTER XXV

AN ECCENTRIC ESCORT

193

Kurdish women after the tottering gait of the shrouded,
formless bundles which pass for Persian women. The
men are equally handsome, and are very manly-looking.

These Kurdish villagers are Sunnis, and are on bad
terms with their neighbours, the Shiahs, and occasionally
they drive off each other’s cattle.

On leaving this pleasant place early next morn ing the
ketchuda and a number of men escorted me for the first
farsakh, and with my escort of sowars increased by four
wild-looking “ road-guards,” riding as it seemed good to
them, in front or behind, sometimes wheeling their horses
at a gallop in ever-narrowing circles, sometimes tearing
up and down steep hills, firing over the left shoulders
and right flanks of their horses, lunging at each other
with much-curved scimitars, and singing inharmonious
songs, we passed through a deep ravine watered by a fine
stream which emerges through gates of black, red, and
orange rock into a long valley, then up and up over long
rolling hills, and then down and down to a large Ilyat
camp beside a muddy and nearly exhausted stream, where
they feasted, and I rested in my shuldari.

Two or three times these “ road-guards ” galloped up to
shepherds who were keeping their flocks, and demanded
a young sheep from each for the return journey, and
were not refused. The peasants fear these men much.
They assert that, so far from protecting caravans and
travellers, they are answerable for most of the robberies
on the road, that they take their best fowls and lambs
without payment, and ten pounds of barley a day for their
horses, and if complaints are made they q uar ter' them¬
selves on the complainant for several days. Por these
reasons I object very strongly to escorts where they are
not absolutely needed for security. I pay each man two
krans a day, and formerly gave each two krans daily as
road money ’ for himself and his horse, but finding
VOL. II o

194

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LETTER XXV

that they took the food without paying for it, I now pay
the people directly for the keep of the men and horses.
Even by this method I have not circumvented the rapacity
of these horsemen, for after I have settled the “ bill ”
they threaten to beat the ketchuda unless he gives them
the money I have given him.

The Ilyat women from the camp crowded round me
with a familiarity which, even in savages, is distressing,
a contrast to the good manners and unobtrusiveness of
the women of Geokahaz.

On the way to Sanjud, a Kurdish village in a ravine
so steep that it was barely possible to find a level space
big enough for my tent, there is some very fine scenery,
and from the slope of Kuh Surisart, on the east side of
the Gardan-i-Mianmalek, the loftiest land between Hama-
dan and Urmi, the view is truly magnificent. The
nearer ranges stood out boldly in yellow and red ochre,
in the valleys indigo shadows lay, range beyond range
of buff-brown hills were atmospherically glorified by
brilliant cobalt colouring, and the hills which barred the
horizon dissolved away in a blue which blended with the
sky. In that vast solitude the fine ruins of the fortress
palace of Karaftu, where the fountain still leaps in the
deserted courtyard, are a very conspicuous object.

From the Miamnalek Pass there is a descent of 5000
feet to the Sea of Urmi, and the keen edge of the air
became much blunted ere we reached Sanjud. Nearly
the whole of the road from Hamadan has been extremely
solitary. We have not met or passed a single caravan,
and on this march of seven hours we did not see a human
being. Yet there are buff-brown villages Jiying in the
valleys among the buff-brown hills, and an enormous
extent of country is under tillage. In fact, this region
is one of the granaries of Persia.

Sanjud is a yellow-ochre village of eighty houses built

LETTER XXV

PERSIA IN AUTUMN

195

into a yellow-ochre hillside, above which rises a high hill
of red mud. It is not possible to give an idea of the
aspect of the country at this season. Sheep and goats
certainly find pickings among the rocks, but the visible
herbage has all been eaten down. The thistles and other
fodder plants have been cut and stacked in the villages.
Most of the streams are dry, and the supplies of drink¬
ing water are only pools, much fouled by cattle. The
snows which supply the sources of the irrigation channels
have all melted, and these channels are either dry or
stopped. There has scarcely been a shower since early
April, and for nearly six months the untempered rays of
the Persian sun have been blazing upon the soil. The
arable land, ploughed in deep furrows, has every furrow
hardened into sun-dried brick. Villages of yellow or
whitish baked mud, supporting on their dusty roofs buff
stacks of baked fodder, are hardly distinguishable from
the baked hillsides. The roads are a few inches deep in
glaring white dust. Over the plains a brown dust haze
hangs.

This rainless and sun - scorched land lives by the
winter snows, and the snowfall of the Zagros ranges is
the most interesting of all subjects to the cultivator of
Western Persia. If the country were more populous,
and the profits of labour were secure, storage for the
snow-water would be an easy task, and barren wastes
might sustain a prosperous people; for the soil, when
irrigated, is prolific, and the sun can always be relied
upon to do his part. The waste of water is great, as
considerably more than half the drainage of the empire
passes into learns and other depressions. The average
rainfall on the central plateau is estimated by Sir Oliver
St. John at five inches only in the year.

My arrival at Sanjud was not welcome. The ketchuda
sent word that he was not prepared to obey the orders of

196

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LETTER XXV

the Surtip of Achaz. I could buy, he said, what I could
get, but he would furnish neither supplies nor guards for
the camp. I did not wonder at this, for a traveller
carrying an official letter is apt to be pahned off on the
villagers as a guest, and is not supposed to pay for any¬
thing.

I went to see the ketchuda, and assured him that I
should pay him myself for all supplies, and a night’s
wages to each watchman, and the difficulty vanished.
Many of the handsome village women came to see me.
The ketchuda made me a feast in his house, and when I
hade him farewell in the morning he said solemnly, “We
are very glad you have been our guest, we have suffered
no loss or inconvenience by having you, we should like
to be protected by the great English nation.” This
polite phrase is frequently used.

The Persian Kurds impress me favourably as a manly,
frank, hospitable people. The men are courteous without
being cringing, and the women are kind and jolly, and
come freely and unveiled to my tent without any ob¬
trusiveness.

The ketchuda sent eight guards to my camp at night,
saying it was in a very dangerous place, and he did not
wish his village disgraced by a stranger being robbed so
near it. He added, however, that six of these men were
sent for his own satisfaction, and that I was only to pay
for the two I had ordered.

My journey, which is through a wild and little fre¬
quented part of Persia, continues to be prosperous. The
climate is now delightful, though at these lower altitudes
the middle of the day is rather hot.

It was a fertile and interesting country between San-
jud and Sain Kala, where I halted for Sunday. The
road passes through the defiles of Kavrak, along with the
deep river Karachai, from the left bank of which rises pre-

letter XXV

AN ATASH-KARDAH

197

cipitously, at the narrowest part of the throat, the fine
mountain Baba Ali. A long valley, full of cultivation
and bearing fine crops of cotton, a pass through the red
range of Kizil Kabr, and a long descent brought us
to a great alluvial plain through which passes the river
Jagatsu on its way to the Dead Sea of Urmi. Broad
expanses of shingle, trees half-buried, and a number of
wide shingly water-channels witness to the destructive¬
ness of this stream. A severe dust storm rendered the
end of the march very disagreeable, as the path was
obliterated, and it was often impossible to see the horses’
ears. In winter and spring this Jagatsu valley is com¬
pletely flooded, and communication is by boats. There
are nearly 150 villages in the district, peopled almost
entirely by Kurds and Turks, and there are over 200
nomad tents. The Jagatsu is celebrated for its large fish.

When the storm abated we were close to Sain Kala,
a picturesque but ruinous fort on a spur of some low
hills, with a town of 300 houses at its base. In the
eastern distance rises the fine mountain Pira Mah, and
between it and Sain Kala is a curious mound—full of
ashes, the people said—a lofty truncated cone, evidently
the site of an Atash-Kardali , or fire-temple. This town
is in the centre of a very fertile region. Its gardens and
orchards extend for at least a mile in every direction,
and its melons are famous and cheap—only 6d. a dozen
just now.

It is a thriving and rising place. A new bazar is
being built, with much decorative work in wood. The
junction of the roads to Tabriz from Kirmanshah
and Hamadan, with one route to Urmi, is in the
immediate neighbourhood, and the place is busy with
the needs of caravans. It looks much like a Chinese
Malay settlement, having on either side of its long narrow
roadway a row of shops, with rude verandahs in front.

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LETTER XXV

Among the most prominent objects are horse, mule, and
ass shoes; pack-saddles, hhurjins , rope, and leather.
Fruiterers abound, and melons are piled up to the roofs.
Russian cottons and Austrian lamps and mirrors repeat
themselves down the long uncouth alley.

The camping-ground is outside the town, a windy and
dusty plain. Here my eight guards left me, but the
■ketchuda shortly called with a message from the Sartip
commanding a detachment of soldiers and the town,
saying that a military guard would be sent before sunset.
Sain Kala is in the government of Sujbulak, and its
people are chiefly Kurds with an admixture of Turks, a
few Persians, mainly officials, and the solitary Jew dyer,
who, with his family, is found in all the larger villages
on this route.

An embroidery needle was found sticking in my
dhurrie a few days ago, and I had the good fortune
not only to get some coarse sewing-cotton but some
embroidery silks at Sain Kala, and having a piece of
serge to work on, and an outline of a blue centaurea, I
am no longer destitute of light occupation for the mid-day
halt.

Truly “ the Sabbath was made for man ”! Apart
from any religious advantages, life would be very grind¬
ing and monotonous without the change of occupation
which it brings. To stay in bed till eleven, to read, to
rest the servants, to intermit the perpetual driving , to
obtain recuperation of mind and body, are all advantages
which help to make Sundays red-letter days on the
journey; and last Sunday was specially restful.

In the afternoon I had a very intelligent visitor,
a j Hakim from Tabriz, sent on sanitary duty in conse¬
quence of a cholera scare—a flattering, hollow upper-
class Persian. He introduced politics, and talked
long on the relative prospects of Russian or English

LETTER XXV

RUSSIA AND ENGLAND

199

ascendency in Asia. England, he argued, made a great
mistake in not annexing Afghanistan, and his opinion, he
said, was shared by all educated Persians. “ You are a
powerful nation/’ he said, “ but very slow. The people,
who know nothing, have too much share in your govern¬
ment. To rule in Asia, and you are one of the greatest of
Asiatic powers, one must not introduce Western theories
of government. You must be despotic and prompt, and
your policy must not vibrate. See here now, the Shah
dies, the Zil-i-Sultan disputes the succession with the
Crown Prince, and in a few days Russia occupies Azir-
bijan with 200,000 men, captures Tihran, and marches
on Isfahan. Meanwhile your statesmen talk for weeks
in Parliament, and when Russia has established her
prestige and has organised Persia, then your fleet with a
small army will sail from India! Bah! No country
ruled by a woman will rule in Asia.”

In the evening the kctchuda and two other Persian¬
speaking Kurds hovered so much about my tent that I
invited them into the verandah, and had a long and
pleasant talk with them, finding them apparently frank
and full of political ideas. They complained fiercely of
grinding exactions, which, they said, “ keep men poor all
their lives.” “ The poorest of men,” they said, “ have to
pay three tumans (£1) a year in money, besides other
things; and if they can’t pay in money the tax-gatherer
seizes their stock, puts a merely nominal value upon it,
sells it at its real value, and appropriates the difference.”
They did not blame the Shah. “He knows nothing.”
They execrated the governors and the local officials. 1 If

1 The truth is that since Persia broke the power of the Kurds ten
years ago, at the time of the so-called Kurdish invasion, she has kept a
somewhat tight hand over them, and her success in coercing them indi¬
cates pretty plainly what Turkey, with her fine army, could do if she were
actually in earnest in repressing the disorder and chronic insecurity in
Turkish Kurdistan.

200

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXV

they keep fowls, they said, they have to keep them under¬
ground or they would be taken.

At the Shah’s death, they said, Persia will be divided
between Russia and England, and they will fall to Russia.
“Then we shall get justice,” they added. I remarked
that the English and the Kurds like each other. They
said, “ Then why is England so friendly with Turkey and
Persia, which oppress us, and why don’t travellers like
you speak to the Sultan and the Shah and get things
changed.” They said that at one time they expected to
fall under English rule at the Shah’s death, “ but now we
are told it will be Russia.”

After a long talk on local affairs we turned to lighter
subjects. They were much delighted with my folding-
table, bed, and chair, but said that if they once began to
use such things it would increase the cost of living too
much, “ for we would never go back to eating and sleep¬
ing among the spiders as Mohammedans do.” They said
they had heard of Europeans travelling in Persia to see
mines, to dig among ruins for treasure, and to collect
medicinal herbs, but they could not understand why I
am travelling. I replied that I was travelling in order
to learn something of the condition of the people, and
was interested likewise in their religion and the prospects
of Christianity. “Very good, it is well,” they replied;
“ Islam never recedes, nor can Christianity advance.”

LETTER XXV

KURDISH ROAD-GUARDS

201

LETTER XXV {Continued)

The following morning the Sartip turned out in my
honour all the road-guards then in Sain Kala to the
number of twelve to escort me to the castle of Muhammad
Jik, a large village, the residence and property of the Nail
Sartip. This was the wildest escort I have had yet.
These men were dressed in full Kurdish finery, and
besides guns elaborately inlaid with silver and ivory, and
swords in much-decorated scabbards, they carried daggers
with hilts incrusted with turquoises in their girdles. They
went through all the usual ■ equestrian performances, and
added another, which consists in twirling a loaded and
clubbed stick in a peculiar manner, and throwing it as
far ahead as possible while riding at full gallop, the one
who picks it up without dismounting being entitled to the
next throw. Very few succeeded in securing it in the
regulation manner, and the scrimmage for this purpose
was often on the point of becoming a real fight. They
worked themselves up to a pitch of wild excitement,
screamed, yelled, shouted, covered their horses with sweat
and foam, nearly unhorsed each other, and used their
sharp bits so unmercifully that the mouth of every horse
dripped with blood.

After they received bakhsheesh they escorted me two
miles farther “ to honour the Khanum” fired their guns
in the air, salaamed profoundly, and with shrieks and
yells left me at a gallop.

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LETTER XXV

The village of Muhammad Jik has a well-filled bazar
and an aspect of mixed prosperity and ruin. The castle,
a large, and, at a distance, an imposing pile, a square fort
with flanking towers, is on an eminence, and has a fine
view of the alluvial plain of the Jagatsu, studded with
villages and cultivated throughout.

Here, for a rarity, the Seigneur lives a stately life
among those who are practically his serfs in good old
medieval fashion. Large offices are enclosed within an
outer wall, and are inhabited by retainers. Rows of
stables sheltered a number of fine and well-groomed horses
from the sun. Bullocks were being brought in from
ploughing; there were agricultural implements of the best
Persian type, fowls, ducks, turkeys, angora goats ; negroes
and negresses, grinning at the stranger; mounted messen¬
gers with letters arriving and departing; scribes in white
turbans and black robes lounging—all the paraphernalia
of position and wealth.

It was nearly nine, and the great man had not risen,
but he sent me a breakfast of tea, kabobs , cracked wheat,
curds, sharbat , and grapes. The courtyard is entered by
a really fine gateway, and the castle is built round a
quadrangle. The andarun and its fretwork galleries are
on one side, and on another is what may be called a hall
of audience, where the Sartip hears village business and
decides cases.

He offered me a few days’ hospitality, paid the usual
compliments, said that no escort was needed from thence
to Sujbulak, where my letter to the Governor would pro¬
cure me one if “ the roads were unsettled,” hoped that I
should not suffer from the hardships of the journey, and
offered me a kajaveh and mule for the next marches.

A level road along the same prosperous alluvial plain
leads to Kashava, a village of 100 houses embosomed in
fruit trees and surrounded by tobacco and cotton. It

letter XXV

A POISONOUS BULB

203

has an old fort, a very fine spring, and a “ resident pro¬
prietor,” who, as soon as he heard of my arrival, sent
servants with melons and tea on silver trays, stabled
my horse, and provided me with a strong guard, a*s the
camping-ground was much exposed to robbers. Such
attentions, though pleasant, are very expensive, as the
greater the master the greater are the expectations of the
servants, and the value of such a present as melons must
be at least quadrupled in bakhsheesh.

"While halting the next day the horses eagerly ate
the stalks and roots of a strongly-scented bulb which
lay almost on the surface of the ground, and were simul¬
taneously seized with a peculiar affection. Their hair
stood out from their bodies like bristles, and they threw
their heads up and down with a regular, convulsive, and
apparently perfectly involuntary motion, while their eyes
were fixed and staring. This went on for two hours,
Boy following me as usual; but owing to this most dis¬
tressing jerk, over which he had no control, he was
unable to eat the dainties which his soul loves, and
which I hoped would break up the affection—a very
painful one to witness. After the attack both animals*
perspired profusely. The water literally ran off their
bodies. The jerks gradually moderated and ceased, and
there were no after effects but very puffy swellings about
the throat. Both had barley in their nose-bags, but
pawed and wriggled them off in order to get at this
plant, a species of allium.

When Boy was well enough to be mounted we
descended into an immense plain, on which were many
villages and tracks. This plain of Hadji Hussein is
in fact only another part of the alluvial level of the
Jagatsu, which, with a breadth of from four to ten miles,
extends for nearly forty miles, and is fertile and populous
for most of its length. At the nearest village all the

204

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXV

men were busy at the threshing-floor, and they would
not give me a guide; at the next the ketchucla sent a
young man, but required payment in advance.

After crossing the plain, on which villages occur at
frequent intervals on gravelly islands surrounded by rich,
stiff, black soil, we forded the broad Jagatsu and got into
the environs of, not an insignificant village, as I expected,
but an important town of 5000 people. A wide road,
planted and ditched on both sides, with well-kept irri¬
gated gardens, shaded by poplars, willows, and fruit trees,
runs for a mile from the river into the town, which is
surrounded by similar gardens on every side, giving
it the appearance of being densely wooded. The vine¬
yards are magnificent, and the size and flavour of the
grapes quite unusual. Melons, opium, tobacco, cotton,
castor oil, sesamum, and bringals all flourish.

Miandab is partly in ruins, but covers a great extent
of ground with its 1000 houses, 100 of which are in¬
habited by Jews and twenty by Armenians. People of
five tribes are found there, but unlike Sain Kala, where
Sunnis and Shiahs live peaceably, the Mussulmans are
all Shiahs, no Sunni having been allowed to become a
permanent inhabitant since the Kurdish attack ten years
ago, when Sunnis within the city betrayed it into the
hands of their co-religionists.

It has several mosques, a good bazar with a domed
roof, a part of which displays very fine copper-work
done in the town, and a garrison of 10 0 men. I saw the
whole of Miandab, for my caravan was lost, and an
hour was spent in hunting for it, inquiring of every one
if he had seen a caravan of four yabus , but vainly, till we
reached the other side, where I found it only just arrived,
and the men busy tent-pitching in a lonely place among
prolific vineyards. Sharban had lost the way, and after
much marching and counter-marching had reached the

LETTER XXV

A BELLIGERENT CAMEL

205

ford of the Jagatsu, which I had been told to avoid,
where the caravan got into deep strong water which
carried the yabus off their feet, and he says that they and
the servant were nearly drowned. Mirza had to go back
into the town.to obtain a guard from an official, as the
camping-ground was very unsafe, and it was 11 p.m.
before dinner was ready.

The next day I w 7 as ill, and rode only twelve miles,
for the most part traversing the noble plain of Hadji
Hussein, till the road ascends by tawny slopes to the
wretched village of Amirabad—seventeen hovels on a
windy hill, badly supplied with water. Partly sunk
below ground, this village, at a short distance off, is only
indicated by huge stacks of the Ccntcturea alata and tall
cones of kiziks , which, being neatly plastered, are very
superior in appearance to the houses which they are
intended to warm.

The western side of the great plain was studded with
Ilyat camps of octagonal and umbrella-shaped tents with
the sides kept out by stout ribs. Great herds of camels,
and flocks of big fat-tailed sheep, varying in colour from
Vandyke brown to golden auburn, camels carrying fodder,
and tribesmen building it into great stacks, round which,
but seven feet off, they place fences of a reed which is
abundant in swampy places, gave life and animation.
Ilyat women brought bowls of milk and curds, and offered
me the hospitality of their tents.

As I passed through a herd of grazing camels, an
ancient, long-toothed, evil-faced beast ran at Boy with
open mouth and a snarling growl. Poor Boy literally
gasped with terror (courage is not his strong point) and
dashed off at a gallop; and now whenever he sees camels
in the distance he snorts and does his best to bolt to one
side, showing a cowardice which is really pitiable.

It was very cold when I left Amirabad the next

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LETTER XXV

morning at 6.30, and hoar-frost lay on the ground. The
steadiness with which the mercury descends at this
season is as interesting as its steady ascent in the spring,
and its freedom from any but the smallest fluctuations in
the summer. The road to Sujbulak passes over uplands
and hill-slopes, tawny with sun-cured grass, and after
crossing some low spurs, blue with the lovely JEryngium
cceruleim , descends into a long rich valley watered by the
river Sanak. This valley, in which are situated Inda
Khosh and other large villages, is abundantly irrigated,
and is cultivated throughout. Well planted with fruit
trees, it is a great contrast to the arid, fiery slopes which
descend upon it.

Long before reaching Sujbulak there were indications
of the vicinity of a place of some importance, caravans
going both ways, asses loaded with perishable produce,
horsemen and foot passengers, including many fine-looking
Kurdish women unveiled, and walking with a firm mascu¬
line stride, even when carrying children on their backs.

A few miles from the town two sowars met me, but
after escorting me for some distance they left me, and
taking the wrong road, I found myself shortly on a slope
above the town, not among the living but the dead.
Such a City of Death I have never seen. A whole hour
was occupied in riding through it without reaching its
limits. Fifty thousand gravestones are said to stand on
the reddish-gray gravel between the hill and the city wall,
mere unhewn slabs of gray stone, from six inches to as
many feet in height, row beyond row to the limit of vision
—300,000 people, they say, are buried there. There is
no suggestion of “ life and immortality.” Weird, melan¬
choly, and terribly malodorous, owing to the shallowness
of the graves, the impression made by this vast cemetery
is solely painful. The tombs are continued up to the
walls and even among the houses, and having been much

letter XXV

A KURDISH CAPITAL

207

disturbed there is the sad spectacle of human skulls and
bones lying about, being gnawed by dogs.

The graveyard side of Sujbulak is fouler and filthier
than anything I have seen, and the odours, even in this
beautiful weather, are appalling. The centre of each alley
is a broken channel with a broken pavement on each side.
These channels were obviously constructed for water,
but now contain only a black and stagnant horror, hardly
to be called a fluid, choked with every kind of refuse.
The bazars are narrow, dark, and busy, full of Russian
commodities, leather goods, ready-made clothing, melons,
grapes, and pop-corn. The crowds of men mostly wore
the Kurdish or Turkish costume, but black-robed and
white-turbaned Seyyids and mollahs were not wanting.

Sujbulak, the capital of Northern Persian Kurdistan,
and the residence of a governor, is quite an important
entrepot for furs, in which it carries on a large trade
with Russia, and a Trench firm, it is said, buys up fur
rugs to the value of several hundred thousand francs
annually. It also does a large business with the Kurdish
tribes of the adjacent mountains and the Turkish nomads
of the plains, and a considerable trade in gall-nuts. It
has twenty small mosques, three hammams, some very
inferior caravanserais, and a few coffee-houses. Its meat
bazar and its grain and pulse bazars are capacious and
well supplied.

It has a reputed population of 5000 souls. Kurds
largely predominate, but there are so many Turks that
the Turkish Government has lately built a very conspicuous
consulate, with the aspect of a fortress, and has appointed
a consul to protect the interests of its subjects. There
are 120 Armenians, who make wine and araJc 3 and are
usurers, and gold and silver smiths. The Jews get their
living by money-lending, peddling drugs, dyeing cotton
goods, selling groceries, and making gold and silver lace.

208

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXV

There is a garrison, of 1000 men nominally, for the
town and district are somewhat turbulent, and a conflict
is always imminent between the Kurds and Turks, who
are Sunnis, and the small Persian population, which is

Shiah. The altitude of
Sujbulak is 4770 feet.
Here I have come upon
the track of Ida Pfeiffer,
who travelled in the
Urmi region more than
forty years ago, when
travelling in Persia was
full of risks, and
much more difficult in
all respects than it is
now.

The Sanak, though clear
and bright, is fouled by
many abominations, and
by the ceaseless washing
of clothes above the town;
there are no pure wells,
and all people who care
about what they drink
keep asses constantly
bringing water from an
uncontaminated part of
the river, two miles off.
Even the Governor has to

KURD OF SUJBULAK. • . « • «

depend on this supply.
Sujbulak looks very well from this camp, with the bright
river in the foreground, and above it, irregularly grouped
on a rising • bank, the fagade, terraces, and towers of
the Governor’s palace, the fort-like Turkish consulate,
and numbers of good dwelling-houses, with lalaMianas

LETTER xxv THE ROTTEN ROW OF SUJBULAK 209

painted blue or pink, or covered with arabesques in
red, with projecting lattice windows of dark wood, and
balconies overhanging the water.

This shingle where I am encamped is the Eotten Eow
of the town, and is very lively, this evening, for numbers
of Kurds have been galloping their horses here, and per¬
forming feats of horsemanship before the admiring eyes of
hundreds of promenaders, male and female, most of the
latter unveiled. As all have to cross the ford where the
river is some inches above a man's knees, the effect is
grotesque, and even the women have no objection to dis¬
playing their round white limbs in the clear water. The
ladies of the Governor's andarun sent word that food
and quarters had been prepared for me since noon, but I
excused myself on the plea of excessive fatigue. This
message was followed by a visit from the Governor's foster-
mother, an unveiled jolly woman, of redundant proportions,
wearing remarkably short petticoats, which displayed limbs
like pillars. A small woman attended her, and a number
of Kurd men, superbly dressed, and wearing short two-
edged swords, with ebony hilts ornamented with incrusta¬
tions of very finely-worked filigree silver. These weapons
are made here. The lady has been to Mecca, and evinces
much more general intelligence than the secluded women.
She took a dagger from one of the attendants, and showed
me with much go how the thrusts which kill are made.

All were much amused with Boy's gentle ways. He
had been into the town for supplies, and, as usual, asked
me to take off his bridle by coming up and putting his
ears under my chin, when, if I do not attend to him at
once, he lifts his head and gives me a gentle push, or rubs
his nose against my cheek. The men admired his strong,
clean limbs, which are his best points. Last night I
heard snoring very near me, and thinking that the watch¬
men were sleeping under the fiys, I went out to waken

VOL. II - p

210

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXV

them, and found the big beast stretched out fast asleep
in the verandah of the tent, having retired there for
warmth. I accompanied my visitors to the ford, followed
by Boy , to their great amusement, as it was to mine to
see the stout lady mount nimbly on a Kurd’s back, and
ride him “ pickaback ” through the water !

This has not been a comfortable afternoon. The
Governor has been out all day hunting, and his deputy
either at the bath or a religious function. Milk can only
be got in the Jewish quarter, where smallpox is prevail¬
ing ; the Sanak water is too foul to be used for tea, and
no man will go two miles so late for a pure supply.
Johannes, who is most disobedient as well as incompetent,
has brought no horse food, and poor Boy has been calling
for it for two hours, coming into my tent, shaking the
bag in which the barley is usually kept, and actually
in his hunger clearing the table of melons and grapes.
These, however, are only among the very small annoyances
of travelling.

9 p.m.—T he Governor has returned, and has sent a
guard of twenty-five soldiers, with an invitation to visit
the ladies before I start to-morrow. I. L. B.

letter xxvi AN “ INTOLERABLE CRIME

211

LETTER XXYI

Turkman, Oct. 6 .

Rising very early on Friday morning to keep my appoint¬
ment with the ladies of the Governor of Sujbulak, as well
as to obtain a letter from him, I reached the palace
entrance a little after sunrise, the hour agreed upon.
The walls and gateway are crumbling, the courtyard is in
heaps, the glass windows of the facade and towers are much
broken, the plaster is mangy—a complete disappointment.
The Kurdish guard slept soundly at the entrance; only
a big dog, more faithful than man, was on the alert.
The Governor was not yet awake, nor the ladies. It would
be an “ intolerable crime,” the sentry said, to waken them.
He looked as if he thought it an “ intolerable crime 79
that his own surreptitious slumbers had been disturbed.
It is contrary to Persian etiquette to* waken persons of
distinction till they please. I waited at the entrance for
half an hour and then reluctantly departed, very sorry
not to give the ladies the opportunity they ardently
desired of seeing a European woman. They had sent
word that they had only once in their lives seen one!

The march to the poor village of Mehemetabad was
over uninteresting low rounded hills and through a
valley without habitations, opening upon a fine plain, at
the south-east end of which the village stands. The
camping-ground was a green fallow near some willows
and a stream. After marching for some hours under

212

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXVI

a glittering sky and a hot sun over scorched, glaring
yellow soil, a measure of greenness just round the tent
is most refreshing to eyes which are suffering from the
want of the coloured glasses which were ground under a
ytibu's hoofs a fortnight ago.

The Khan of the village was very courteous, and
sent a tray of splendid grapes, and six watchmen.
Buffalo hulls of very large size were used there for
burden. Buffaloes are a sure sign of mitigated aridity,
for they must bathe, i.e. he down in water three times
daily, if they are to be kept in health, and if the water
and mud are not deep enough for this, hoys go in along
with them and pour water over them with a pannikin.
In these regions they are almost exclusively used for
burdens, draught, and milk, and everywhere their
curved flat horns and sweet, calm, silly faces are to he
seen above the water of the deep irrigation ditches. The
buffalo, though usually mild enough to be driven by small
children, has an uncertain temper, and can he roused to
frightful ferocity. In Persian Kurdistan, if not else¬
where, this is taken advantage of, and in the spring, when
the animals are in good condition after the winter’s rest,
the people have buffalo fights, in which cruel injuries
would he inflicted *were it not for the merciful provision
of nature in giving these animals flat incurved horns. 1

As I sat at my tent door a cloud of dust moved along
the road towards the village, escorting an indefinite
something which loomed monstrously through it. I have
not seen a cart for nine months, and till the unmistak-

1 While I was sleeping in a buffalo-stable in Turkey two buffaloes
quarrelled and there was a terrible figbt, in which the huge animals inter¬
locked their horns and broke them short off, bellowing fearfully. It took
twenty men with ropes, or rather cables, two and a half inches in diameter,
which are kept for the purpose, to separate them; and their thin skins,
sensitive to insect bites and all irritations, were bleeding in every direction
before they could be forced apart.

LETTER XXVI AN UNEASY CHARVADAR

213

able creak of wooden wheels enlightened me I could not
think what was approaching. Actually every village on
these plains has one or more buffalo-carts, with wooden
wheels without tires, and hubs and axles of enormous
size and strength, usually drawn by four buffaloes. A man
sits on the front of the cart and drives with a stick, and
a boy facing backwards sits on the yoke between the two
foremost beasts. He croons a perpetual song, and if this
ceases the buffaloes stop. For every added pair (and on
the next plain I saw as many as six yoke) there is an
additional boy and an additional song.

This apparition carried a light wooden frame, which
was loaded to a preposterous height with the strong reeds
which are used to support the mud roofs, heavily weighted
as these are with stacks of fodder.

One would think one was in the heart of the Bakh-
tiari country and not on a caravan route, from the
difficulty of getting any correct guidance as to the road,
distance, safety, or otherwise, etc. Sharban has never
been this way, and is the prey of every rumour. Be¬
tween his terror of having to “ eat wood ” on his return,
and his dread of being attacked and robbed of his yabus ,
he leads an uneasy life, and when, as at Mehemetabad,
there is no yard for his animals, he watches all night in
the idea that the guards are the “ worst robbers of all.”
I think he has all the Mussulman distrust of arrange¬
ments made by a woman! Hitherto the guards have
been faithful and quiet. I always ask them not to talk
after 8 p.m., and I have not once been disturbed by
them; and when I walk as usual twice round the camp
during the night I always find them awake by their big
watch-fires.

The village Khan, an intelligent man, spent some time
with me in the afternoon. The fields of his village are
not manured at all, and the yield is only about tenfold.

214

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTEK XXVI

Willows are grown for the sake of the osiers, which
are a necessity, and not for fuel, and the whole of the
manure is required for cooking and heating purposes.
He said that his village becomes poorer annually owing
to the heavier exactions of the officials and the larger
sums demanded to “buy off robbers.” The latter is a
complaint often made in the villages which are near
the Turkish frontier, a boundary which from all accounts
needs considerable “ rectification.” The people say that
Kurds cross the border, and that unless they bribe them
they drive off their sheep and cattle and get over it
again safely, but I doubt the truth of these statements.

I got away at sunrise for a march of nominally
fourteen miles, but in reality twenty-four. Sharban not
only stated the distance falsely but induced others to do
the same thing, and when he passed me at midday, say¬
ing the halting-place was only two miles ahead, he went
on for twelve miles, his desire being to rejoin that bug¬
bear, the “ big caravan.” which he heard had reached
Urmi. The result is that I have had to rest for two
days, and he has gained two days’ pay, but has lost time

After some serious difficulties in crossing some swampy
streams and a pitiable display of cowardice on Boy's
part, we embarked on the magnificent plain of Sulduz,
where Johannes, with a supreme self-confidence which
imposed on me, took the wrong one of two tracks,
and we rode west instead of east, to within a few hours’
journey of a pass into Turkey through the magnificent
range of the Zibar mountains, which even at this ad¬
vanced season are in some places heavily patched with
last winter’s snow.

To regain the caravan route we had to cross the
greater part of this grand plain, which I had not then
seen equalled in Persia for fertility and population. It
possesses that crown of blessings, an abundant water

LETTER XXVI

THE PLAIN OF SULDUZ

21-5

supply, indeed so abundant that in the spring it is a
swamp, and the spring sowing is delayed till May. It
has several large villages, slightly raised and well planted,
a few of.them with the large fortified houses of resident
proprietors overtopping the smaller dwellings. Evidences
of material prosperity meet the eye everywhere, a pros¬
perity which needs to be guarded, however, for every
shepherd, cowherd, ploughman, and buffalo-driver goes
about his work armed.

Large herds of mares with mule foals, of big fat cattle,
and of buffaloes, with plenty of mud to wallow in, stacks
of real hay and of fine reeds, buffalo carts moving slowly
near all the villages carrying the hay into security, grass
uncut and unscorched, eighteen inches high, a deep, black,
stoneless soil, impassable at certain seasons, towering
cones of animal fuel, for export as well as use, an in¬
tensely blue sky above, a cool breeze, and the rare sight
of cloud-shadows drifting over waving grass and flecking
the cobalt sides of the Zibar mountains, combined to form
a picture I would not willingly have missed, impatient
as I was for the first view of the Sea of Urmi.

Beyond there are low stony hills, which would be
absolutely bare now but for the Eryngium cceruleum and
the showy spikes of a great yellow mullein, a salt lake,
most of which is now a salt incrustation, mimicking ice
from beneath which the water has been withdrawn, but
with an odour which no ice ever has, then a gradual
ascent to a windy ridge, and then—the Dead Sea of
Urmi or Urumiya.

Dead indeed it looked from that point of view, and
dead were its surroundings. It lay, a sheet of blue,
bluer even than the heavens above it, stretching north¬
wards beyond the limits of vision, and bounded on
the east, but very far away, by low blue ranges, seen
faintly through a blue veil. On the west side there axe

216

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXVI

mountains, which recede considerably, and descend upon
it in low rounded buff slopes or downs, over which the
track, keeping near the water, lies. There was not a
green thing, not a bush, or house, or flock of sheep, or
horseman, or foot passenger along the miles of road
which were visible from that point. The water lay in
the mocking beauty of its brilliant colouring, a sea with¬
out a shore, without a boat, without a ripple or flash of
foam, lifeless utterly, dead from all time past to all time
to come. Dead, too, it is on closer acquaintance, and its
odour, which can be discerned three miles off, is that
odour of corruption known to science as sulphuretted
hydrogen. Now and then there is a shore, a shallow
bay or inlet, in which the lake, driven by the east wind,
evaporates, leaving behind it a glaring crust of salt,
beyond which a thick, bubbly, blackish-green scum lies on
the blue water. In such places only the expressive old-
fashioned word stench can describe the odour, which was
strong enough nearly to knock over the servants and
chccrvadars . No description can give an idea of the
effluvium which is met with here and there beside this
great salt lake, which has a length of eighty miles and
an average breadth of twenty-four.

A few miles from Dissa the lake-water is brought into
tanks and evaporated, and many donkeys were being loaded
with the product, which, like all salt which is sold in
Persia, is impure, and for European use always requires
a domestic and tedious process of purification.

After a solitude of several miles villages appear, lying
off the road in folds of the hills, which gradually recede
so far as to leave a plain some miles broad and very
fertile. At the end of an eleven hours’ march we reached
the important village of Dissa, with large houses and
orchards, abundant water, a detachment of soldiers as a
garrison, a resident proprietor’s house, to which in his

letter XXVI THE “ PARADISE OF PERSIA

217

absence I was at once invited by his wife, and so sur¬
rounded by cultivation that a vacant space could only
be found for the camp in a stubble-field.

The caravan had only just come in, and there was
neither fuel nor drinking water within easy reach. I was
so completely worn out that I was lifted off the horse and
laid on the ground in blankets till the camp was in order
late at night. Sharban, knowing that his deception was
discovered, had disappeared with his yabus without helping
as usual to pitch my tent. Mirza, always cheerful and
hard-working, though always slow, and Johannes did
their best, but it is very hard on servants who are up
before five not to bring them in till sunset, when their
work is scarcely over till near midnight, and has to be
done in the dark. The next day there were a succession
of dust storms and half a gale from noon to sunset, but my
tent stood it well, and the following day this was repeated.
These strong winds usually prevail in the afternoon at
this season.

Urmi , October 8. — A march over low and much-
ploughed hills, an easy descent and a ford brought us
down upon the plain of Urmi, the “ Paradise of Persia,”
and to the pleasant and friendly hamlet of Turkman,
where I spent the night and made the half-march into
Urmi yesterday morning. This plain is truly “ Paradise ”
as seen from the hill above it, nor can I say that its
charm disappears on more intimate acquaintance. Far
from it!

I have travelled now for nine months in Persia and
know pretty well what to expect—not to look for sur¬
prises of beauty and luxuriance, and to be satisfied
with occasional oases of cultivation among brown, rocky,
treeless hills, varied by brown villages with crops and
spindly poplars and willows, contrasting with the harsh
barrenness of the surrounding gravelly waste.

218

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXVI

But beautiful Urmi, far as the eye can reach, is one
oasis. From Turkman onwards the plain becomes more
and more attractive, the wood-embosomed villages closer
together, the variety of trees greater. Irrigation canals
shaded by fruit trees, and irrigation ditches bordered by
reeds, carry water in abundance all through the plain.
Swampy streams abound. Fair stretches of smooth green
sward rejoice the eye. Big buffaloes draw heavy carts
laden with the teeming produce of the black, slimy,
bountiful soil from the fields into the villages. Wheat,
maize, beans, melons, gourds, potatoes, carrots, turnips,
beets, capsicum, chilis, bringals, lady’s fingers, castor-oil
(for burning), cotton, madder, salsify, scorzonera, celery,
oil-seeds of various sorts, opium, and tobacco all flourish.
The orchards are full of trees which almost merit the
epithet noble. Noble indeed are the walnuts, and
beautiful are the pomegranates, the apricots, the apples,
the peach and plum trees, and glorious are the vineyards
with their foliage, which, like that of the cherry and pear,'
is passing away in scarlet and gold. Nature has perfected
her work and rests. It is autumn in its glories, but
without its gloom.

Men, women, and children are all busy. Here the
wine-press is at work, there girls are laying clusters of
grapes on terraces prepared for the purpose, to dry for
raisins; women 1 are gathering cotton and castor-oil seeds,
little boys are taking buffaloes to bathe, men are driv¬
ing and loading buffalo-carts, herding mares, ploughing
and trenching, and in the innumerable villages the store¬
houses are being filled; the herbs and chilis are hanging
from the roofs to dry, the women are making large cakes
of animal fuel (of which they have sufficient for export),
and are building it into great conical stacks, the crones
are spinning in the sun, and the swaddled infants bound
1 Christian women and girls share the work of the fields with the men.

LETTER XXVI

A THRONGED HIGHWAY

219

in their cradles are lying in the fields and vineyards,
while the mothers are at work. This picture of beauty,
fertility, and industry is framed by the Kurdistan moun¬
tains on the one side, and on the other by long lines
of poplars, through which there are glimpses of the
deep blue waters of the TJrmi Sea. These Kurdistan
mountains, a prolongation of the Taurus chain, stern
in their character, and dwarfing all the minor ranges,
contrast grandly with the luxuriant plains of Sulduz
and Urmi.

As I passed northwards the villages grew thicker, the
many tracks converged into a wide road which was
thronged with foot passengers, horsemen, camel and horse
caravans, and strings of asses loaded with melons and
wood. Farther yet the road passes through beautiful
orchards with green sward beneath the trees; mud walls
are on both sides, and over them droop the graceful
boughs and gray-green foliage of an elcegnus, with its
tresses of auburn fruit.

At the large village of Geog-tapa a young horseman
overtook me, and said in my native tongue, “ Can you
speak English ? ” He proved to be a graduate of the
American College at TJrmi, and a teacher in Shamasha
Khananeshoo's school (known better to his supporters in
England as Deacon Abraham). He told me that I was
expected, and shortly afterwards X was greeted by the
son of the oldest missionary in Urmi, Dr. Labaree.

The remaining four miles were almost entirely under
the shade of fine trees, past the city walls and gates, put
into tolerable repair after the Kurdish invasion ten years
ago, and out into pretty wooded country, with the grand
mountains of the frontier seen through the trees, where a
fine gateway admitted us into the park in which are the
extra-mural buildings of the American Presbyterian
Mission, now more than half a century old. These are

220

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXYI

on high. ground, well timbered, and the glimpses through
the trees of the mountains and the plain are enchanting.

Through the kindness of my friends at Hamadan, who
had written in advance, I am made welcome in the house
of Dr. Shedd, the Principal of the Urmi College . 1

Within two hours of my arrival I had the pleasure of
visits from Canon Maclean and Mr. Lang of the English
Mission, and from Dr. Labaree and the ladies of the
Eiske Seminary, the English, French, and American
missionaries being the only European residents in Urmi.

I. L. B.

1 It is a pleasant duty to record here the undeserved and exceeding
kindness that I have met with from the American, Presbyterian, and
Congregational missionaries in Persia and Asia Minor. It is not only
that they made a stranger, although a member of the Anglican Church,
welcome in their refined and cultured homes, often putting themselves
to considerable inconvenience in order to receive me, but that they un¬
grudgingly imparted to me the interests of their work and lives, helping
me at the cost of much valuable time and trouble with the complicated
and often difficult arrangements for my farther journeys, showing, in
every possible way that they “know the heart of a stranger,” being
themselves “ strangers in a strange land.” Specially, I feel bound to
acknowledge the kindness and hospitality shown to me by the Presbyterian
missionaries in Urmi, who were aware that one object of my journey
through North-West Persia was to visit the Archbishop of Canterbury’s
Assyrian Missions, which work on different and, I may say, opposite lines
from their own.

URMI

THE AMERICAN MISSION

221

NOTES ON PEOTESTANT MISSIONS IN UEMI 1

A sketch of Urmi would present few features of general
interest if it did not embrace an outline of the mission
work which is carried on there on a large scale, first by
the numerous agents, lay and clerical, male and female,
of the American Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions,
and next by the English Mission clergy and the Sisters
of Bethany, who form what is known as “ The Archbishop
of Canterbury’s Mission to the Assyrian Christians.”

Besides these there is a Latin Mission of French
Lazarists, aided by Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul, which
has been at work in Urmi and on the plain of Salmas
for forty years.

Urmi, the reputed birthplace of Zoroaster, and in past
ages the great centre of Fire Worship, was made the head¬
quarters of the American Mission to the Nestorians in
1834, which, with the exception of the C. M. S. Mission in
Julfa, was the only Protestant Mission in Persia up to
the year 1885.

At present there are four ordained American mission¬
aries, several ladies, and a medical missionary working
in Urmi. Under their superintendence are thirty
ordained and thirty-one licentiate pastors, ninety-three
native helpers, and three Bible-women. The number of
Nestorians or Syrians employed as teachers in the

1 The name of the town and lake is spelt variously Urmi, Urumi,
Urumiya, Ourmia, and Oroomiah. The Moslems call it* Urumi, and the
Christians Urmi, to which spelling I have adhered.

222

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

NOTES

College and the Piste Seminary for girls, as translators,
as printers, and as medical assistants, is very considerable.

The whole plain of Urmi, with its innumerable villages,
and the eastern portion of the Kurdish mountains, with
its Syrian hamlets, are included within the sphere of
Mission wort.

This Mission has free access to Syrians, Armenians,
and Jews, but for Moslems there can be no public preach¬
ing or teaching, nor can a Moslem openly profess Chris¬
tianity, or even frequent the Syrian services, without being
a marted man. Hence, while all opportunities are
embraced of conversation with Mohammedans, and of
circulating the Bible among them, the mission wort is
chiefly among nominal Christians.

The Americans own a very large amount of property
at Urmi. The Piste Seminary—a High School, in which
a large number of girls receive board as well as education—
is within the city walls, as well as some of the houses of
both clerical and lady missionaries. About a mile out¬
side they have acquired a beautiful and valuable estate
of about fifteen acres, plentifully wooded and watered,
and with some fine avenues of planes. On this are the
large buildings of the Urmi College, the professors’ houses,
the Dispensary, and the Medical Mission Hospitals for
the sict of both sexes.

A very high-class education is given in the Urmi College,
and in addition to the general course there are opportunities
for both theological and medical education. Last year there
were 151 students, of which number eighteen graduated.

The education given is bringing about a result which
was not anticipated. The educated Syrian and Armenian
young men, far from desiring generally to remain in their
own country as pastors and teachers, and finding no oppor¬
tunities of “getting on” otherwise, have of late been
seized with a craze for leaving Persia for America, Kussia,

URMI

YACUB DILAKOFF

223

or any other country where they may turn their educa¬
tion to profitable account. It is hardly necessary to add
that the admirable training and education given in the
Piske Seminary do not produce a like restlessness among
its “ girl graduates.” The girls marry at an early age,
make good housewives, and are in the main intelligent
and kindly Christians.

Possibly the education given in the Urmi College is
too high and too Western for the requirements of the
country and the probable future of the students. At all
events similar regrets were expressed in Urmi, as I after¬
wards heard, regarding some of the American Mission
Colleges in Asia Minor. The missionaries say that the
directly religious results are not so apparent as could be
desired, that the young men are not ready to offer them¬
selves in any numbers for evangelistic work, and that
the present tendency is to seek secular employment and
personal aggrandisement.

Though this secular tendency comes forward strongly
at this time, a number of evangelistic workers scattered
through Persia, Turkey, and Eussia 1 owe their education

1 At the present time, when the persecution of the Stundists in Russia
is attracting considerable attention, it may interest my readers to hear
that one of the earliest promoters of the Stundist movement was Yacub
Dilakoff, a Syrian, and a graduate of the Old American College. He went
to Russia thirty years ago, and was so horrified at the ignorance and gross
superstition of the peasantry that he studied Russian in the hope of en¬
lightening them, and to aid his purpose became an itinerant hawker of
Bibles. The ‘ ‘ common people heard him gladly, ” and among both the
Orthodox and the Lutherans prayer unions were formed, from which those
who frequented them received the name by which they are known, from
stunde , hour.

Dilakoff, whom the Stundists love to call “our Bishop,” has been
thrown into prison several times, but on his liberation began to teach
among the sect of the Molokans in the Crimea and on the Volga with such
success that sixteen congregations have been formed among them. His
zeal has since carried him to the Molokan colonies on the Amoor, where
he has been preaching and teaching for three years with such remarkable
results as to have received the title of “a Modern Apostle.”

224

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

NOTES

and religious inspiration to the teachings of the Urmi
College. At present a few of the young men have
handed themselves together to go forth as teachers and
preachers with the object of carrying the Gospel to all,
without distinction of nationality. The hopefulness of
this movement is that it is of native origin, and that
the young men are self-supporting. A capable Syrian
physician and a companion are also preaching and healing
at their own cost, only accepting help towards the expense
of medicines.

The Medical Mission at Urmi, with its well-equipped
Dispensary and its two admirable Hospitals, is of the
utmost value, as such missions are all the world over.

Dr. Cochrane, from his courtesy and attention to the
niceties of Persian etiquette, is extremely acceptable to
the Persian authorities, and has been entrusted by them
more than once with missions involving the exercise of
great tact and ability. He is largely trusted by the
Moslems of Urmi and the neighbourhood, and mixes
with them socially on friendly and easy terms.

He and some of the younger missionaries were born
in Persia, their fathers having been missionaries before
them, and after completing their education in America
they returned, not only with an intimate knowledge of
etiquette and custom, as well as of Syriac and Persian,
but with that thorough sympathy with the people whom
they are there to help and instruct, which it is difficult
to gain in a single generation, and through languages not
acquired in childhood. Dr. Cochrane has had many and
curious dealings with the Kurds, the dreaded inhabitants
of the mountains which overhang the beautiful plain of
Urmi, and a Kurd, who appears to be in perpetual “ war¬
paint,” is the gatekeeper at the Dispensary. One of the
most singular results of the influence gained over these
fierce and predatory people by the “ Missionary Hakim ”

URMI

THE KURDISH SIEGE OF URMI

225

occurred in 1881, when Obeidullah Khan, with 11,000
Kurds, laid siege to Urmi.

Six months previously, at this Khan’s request, Dr.
Cochrane went up a three days' journey into the moun¬
tains, where he remained for ten days, during which
time he cured the Khan of severe pneumonia, and
made the acquaintance of several of the Kurdish chiefs.
Before the siege began Obeidullah Khan sent for Dr.
Cochrane, saying that he wished to know his residence
and who his people were, so as to see that none of
them suffered at the hands of his men. Not only this,
but he asked for the names of the Christian villages on
the plain, and gave the 1Hakim letters with orders that
nothing should be touched which belonged to them.
The mission families were assembled at the College,
and 500 Christians, with their cattle and horses, took
refuge in the College grounds, which were close to the
Kurdish lines. The siege lasted seven weeks, with great
loss of life • and many of “ the horrors of war,” as time
increased the fury of both Kurds and Persians. But
Obeidullah kept his word, and for the sake of the Hakim
and his healing art, not only was not a hair on the
head of any missionary touched, but the mixed
multitude within the gates and the herds were likewise
spared.

Mrs. Cochrane, the widow of the former medical
missionary, superintends the food and the nursing in the
hospitals, and I doubt whether the most fanatical Kurd
or Persian Moslem could remain indifferent to the charm
of her bright and loving presence. The profession of Dr.
Cochrane opens to him homes and hearts everywhere.
All hold him as a friend and benefactor, and he has
opportunities, denied to all others, of expounding the
Christian faith among Moslems. A letter from him is
a safe-conduct through some parts of the Kurdish

VOL. II n

226

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

NOTES

mountains, and the mere mention of his name is a pass¬
port to the good-will of their fierce inhabitants.

The work of the mission is not confined to the city of
Urmi Among the villages of the plain there are eighty-
four schools, taught chiefly in Syriac, seven of which are
for girls only. The mission ladies itinerate largely, and
are warmly welcomed by Moslem as well as Christian
women, and even by those families of Kurds who, since
their defeat in 1881, have settled down to peaceful
pursuits, some of them even becoming Christians.

In fifty years the American missionaries have gained
a very considerable and wide-spread influence, not only
by labours which are recognised as disinterested, but by
the purity and righteousness of their lives; and the
increased friendliness and accessibility of the Moslems of
Urmi give hope that the purer teachings of Christianity
and the example of the life of our Lord are regarded by
them with less of hostility or indifference than formerly.

The history of the mission is best given in the words
of Ur. Shedd, one of its oldest members. 1

1 In twenty-eight years after its establishment a conference of bishops,
presbyters, and deacons, all of whom had received ordination in the Old
Church, with preachers, elders, and missionaries, met and deliberated.
“ This conference adopted its own confession, form of government, and
discipline—at first very simple. Some things were taken from the canons
and rituals of the Old Church, others from the usages of Protest¬
ant Churches. The traditions of the Old Church were respected to some
extent; for example, no influence has induced the native brethren to re¬
mit the diaconate to a mere service in temporalities. The deacons are a
preaching order.”

Of the subsequent history of this church the same authority writes as
follows :—

“ The missionaries in 1835 were welcomed by the ecclesiastics and
people, and for many years an honest effort was made to reform the old
body ” (the Syrian Church) “ without destroying its organisation. This
effort failed, and a new church was gradually formed for the following
reasons—

“(1) Persecution. The patriarch did all in his power to destroy the
Evangelical work. He threatened, beat, and imprisoned the teachers and

TJRMI

REASONS FOR A DISRUPTION

227

The communicants of the “ Evangelical Syriac Church,”
which might be termed, from its organisation and creed,
th & Presbyterian Syriac Church , numbered 216 in 1857
and 2003 in 1887.

converts, and made them leave his fold. (2) Lack of discipline. The
converts could no longer accept unscriptural practices and rank abuses
that prevailed, and it became evident that there was no method to reform
them. At every effort the rent was made worse. (3) Lack of teaching.
The converts asked for better care, and purer and "better teaching and
means of grace than they found in the dead language, rituals, and ordi¬
nances of the Old Church.

“The missionaries were'slow in abandoning the hope that the Nestorian
Church would become reformed and purified ; but their hope was in vain,
their efforts therefore have been not to proselytise, but to leaven the whole
people with Christian truth. The separation was made in no spirit of
hostility or controversy. There was no violent disruption. The mission¬
aries have never published a word against the Old Church ecclesiastics or
its polity.

“The ordination of the Old Church has always been accepted as valid.
The missionaries and the evangelical bishops have sometimes joined in
the ordination services, and it would be difficult to draw the line when
the Episcopal ordination ceased and the Presbyterian began in the Re¬
formed body.

* ‘ The relation of the Presbyterian mission work to the old ecclesiastics
is thus something different from that found among any other Eastern
Christians. The Patriarch in office fifty years ago was at first very friendly
to the missionaries, and personally aided in superintending the building of
mission houses. Subsequently he did all in his power to break up the
mission. The Patriarch now in office has taken the attitude of neutrality,
with frequent indications of fairness and friendliness toward our work.

“ The next in ecclesiastical rank is the Mattran (Syriac for Metropoli¬
tan), the only one left of the twenty-five Metropolitans named in the thir¬
teenth century. The present incumbent recently made distinct overtures
to our Evangelical Church to come to an understanding by establishing
the scriptural basis of things essential, and allowing liberty in things non-
essential. He fails, perhaps, to understand all the scriptural issues
between us, but he has a sincere desire to walk uprightly and to benefit
his people.

“Of the bishops, three have been united with the Reform, and died in
the Evangelical Church. The three bishops in Kurdistan are friendly,
and give their influence in favour of our schools.

“A large majority of the priests or presbyters of the Old Church, in
Persia at least, joined the Reform movement, and as large a proportion of
the deacons. In all, nearly seventy of the priests have laboured with the

228

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

NOTES

Apart from the results of Christian teaching and
example, there can be, I think, no doubt that the resi¬
dence of righteous foreigners in Urmi for over half a
century has had a most beneficial effect on the condition
of the NTestorians. At the time when the first American
missionaries settled in Urmi the yoke of Islam was
hardly hearable. The Christians were oppressed and
plundered, their daughters were taken by violence, and
they were scarcely allowed to practise the little religion
left to them. The Persian Government, sensitive as it
is to European opinion, has gradually remedied a state of
matters upon which the reports of the missionaries were
justly to be dreaded, and at the present time the Christians
of Urmi and the adjacent plain have comparatively very
little to complain of.

At the same time the Syriac Church was at its lowest
ebb, absolutely sunk in ignorance and superstition.
It had no exposition of the Bible, and all worship was
in the ancient Syriac tongue, then as now “ not under¬
stated of the people.” It had no books or any ability
to establish schools. Bibles were scarce, and a single copy
of the Psalms could not be bought for less than 32 s.
The learned nuns and deaconesses of the early days were
without successors. Women were entirely neglected, and
it was regarded as improper for the younger among them
to be seen at church. In Urmi not a woman could read,
and in the whole Uestorian region they were absolutely
illiterate, with the exception of the Patriarch’s sister and
two or three nuns.

mission as teachers, preachers, or pastors, and more than half of these
continue, and are members of our Synod, tn some places the Reform has
gathered nearly all the population within its influence. In many places
it is not unusual to find half the population in our winter services. On
the other hand, there are many places where the ecclesiastics are imm oral
and opposed, and ignorance and vice abound, and the Reform moves very
slowly.”

URMI

THE ANGLICAN MISSION

229

The translation of the Bible into modern Syriac, a
noble work, now undergoing revision; the College; the
Female Seminary; the translation and publication of many
luminous books; the circulation of a periodical called
Bays of Light , together with fifty years of intercourse
with men and women' whose chief aim is the religious
and intellectual elevation of the people among whom they
dwell, have wrought a remarkable change, though that the
change is menaced with perils, and is not an absolutely
unmixed good, cannot be gainsaid.

It is for the future to decide whether the Eeform
movement in Umri or elsewhere could survive in any
strength the removal of the agency which inaugurated it,
and whether a Church without a ritual and with a form
of government alien to the genius of the East and the
traditions of the fathers, can take root in the affections of
an eminently conservative people.

The Mission, founded by the present Archbishop of
Canterbury at the request of the Catholicos of the East,
Mar Shimun, the Patriarch of the Syrian Church, arrived
in Urmi in the autumn of 1885. At the time of my
visit it consisted of five mission priests, graduates of
Oxford and Cambridge Universities, and an ordained
Syrian, four of whom were at the headquarters in Urmi,
one in the Kurdish mountains, and one on the Urmi
Plain. Pour Sisters of Bethany arrived in the spring
of 1890 for the purpose of opening a boarding-school
for girls and instructing the women.

It is hardly necessary to say that the lines on which
the Anglican and American missions proceed are diametri¬
cally different, and the modes of working are necessarily
in opposition. The one is 'practically a proselytising
agency, and labours to build up a Presbyterian Church
in Persia; the other purposes to “ bring back an ancient
church into the way of truth, and so prepare it for its

230

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

NOTES

union with its mother church, the Orthodox Church of
the East.” The objects of the latter and its ecclesias¬
tical position are stated briefly in the note below. 1

The actual work to be done by the Mission is thus
s umm ed up by its promoters : “ The work of the Mission
is in the first place to train up a body of literate clergy;
secondly, to instruct the youth generally in both religious
and secular knowledge; and thirdly, to print the very
early liturgies and service-books, to which the Assyrians
are much attached, which have never been published in
the original, and of which the very primitive character is
shown by their freedom from doubtful doctrine. The
Mission in no way seeks to Anglicanise the Assyrians on
the one hand, nor, on the other, to condone the heresy
which separated them from the rest of Christendom or
to minimise its importance.”

The English clergy are celibates, receive no stipends,
and live together, with a common purse, each receiving
£25 per annum for personal expenses.

1 “ By God’s help : (1) To raise up and restore a fallen Eastern Church,
to take her place again amongst the Churches of Christendom. (2) To
infuse spiritual life into a church which the oppression of centuries has
reduced to a state of weakness and ignorance. (3) To give the Chaldaean
or Assyrian Christians (a) a religious education on the broad principles of
the Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church ; (&) a secular education calculated
to fit them for their state of life, the common mistakes and dangers of
over-education and of Europeanising education being most carefully
guarded against. (4) To train up the native clergy, by means of schools
and seminaries, to be worthy to serve before God in their high vocation,
and to rise to their responsibilities as leaders and teachers of the people in
their villages. (5) To build schools, of which at present there are none,
owing to the extreme poverty and misery of the people. (6) To aid the
Patriarch and Bishops by counsel, by encouragement, and by active sup¬
port. (7) To reorganise the Chaldaean Church upon her ancient lines, to
set in motion the ecclesiastical machinery now rusty through disuse, and
to revive religious discipline amongst clergy and laity. (8) To print the
ancient Chaldaean service-books. They are now only in MS., and the
number of copies is totally insufficient for the supply of the parish
churches.”

URMI

THE ANGLICAN SCHOOLS

231

It is not a proselytising mission. It teaches, trains,
and prints. It has one High School at Urmi for boys
under seventeen, and two upon the Urmi Plain, but the
work to which these may be regarded as subsidiary
is the Urmi Upper School for priests, deacons, and can¬
didates for holy orders. In these four establishments
there are about 200 pupils, mostly boarders. There are
also seventy-two village day-schools, and the total attend¬
ance last year was—boys 1248, girls 225. Seventy-six
deacons and young men above seventeen are in the Upper
School at Urmi.

The education given in the ordinary schools is on a
level with that of our elementary schools. In the school
of St. Mary and St. John, which contains priests, deacons,
and laymen, some being mountaineers, the subjects taught
are Holy Scripture, catechism, Scripture geography, uni¬
versal history, liturgy, preaching, English, Persian, Osmanli
Turkish, arithmetic, and Old Syriac. 1 Preaching is taught
practically. A list of 10 0 subjects on a systematic theo¬
logical plan has been drawn up, and each week two of the
deacons choose topics from the list and write sermons
upon them.

In 1887 the Mission clergy drew up a catechism con¬
taining between 200 and 300 questions, with “ Scripture
proofs,” which the scholars in all their schools are obliged
to learn by heart.

The boys of the Urmi High School and of the Upper
School board in the mission house, and are under the
constant supervision of the clergy. Their food and habits
of living are strictly Oriental. All imitations of Western
manners and customs are forbidden, the policy of the
Mission being to make the Syrians take a pride in their
national customs, which as a rule are adapted to their

1 ** Old Syriac as a lesson means reading portions of Holy Scripture,
and translating them into modem Syriac.”

232

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

NOTES

circumstances and country, and to look down upon those
who ape European dress and manners. Denationalisation
is fought against in every possible way.

A year and a half ago work among women was begun
by four ladies of the community of the Sisters of Bethany.
The position of Syrian women, in spite of its partial
elevation by means of the Fiske Seminary, is still very
low, and within the Old Church there is an absolute
necessity for raising it, and through it the tone of the
home life and the training of children. These ladies have
thirty boarders in their school between the ages of eight
and sixteen, a previous knowledge of reading acquired in
the village schools being a condition of admission. The
daily lessons consist of Bible teaching, the catechism
before referred to, ancient and modern Syriac, geography,
arithmetic, and all branches of housework and needle¬
work. Due regard is paid to Syrian customs, and the
picturesque Syrian costume is retained.

Since these ladies have acquired an elementary know¬
ledge of Syriac they have been itinerating in the Urmi
villages, holding Bible classes, giving instruction, and dis¬
tributing medicines among the sick. The ignorance and
superstition of the Christian women are almost past belief.
One great difficulty which the “ sisters ” have to encounter
arises from the early marriages of the girls, child-brides
of eleven and twelve years old being quite co mm on It
may reasonably be expected that the presence and influ¬
ence, the gentleness and self-sacrifice of these refined
and cultured Christian ladies will tell most favourably
upon their pupils, and strengthen with every month of
their residence in Urmi. The Moslems understand and
respect the position of voluntarily celibate women, and
speak of them as “ those who have left the world.”

The Mission clergy of late have striven to instruct
the adult Syrian population of the Urmi Plain by

URMI

THE FUTURE OF CHRISTIANITY

233

preaching among them systematically, explaining in a
very elementary manner the principles of Christianity,
and their application to the life of man They have
also set up a printing press, and have already printed m
Syriac type a number of school books, the Catechism, the
Liturgy of the Apostles , the most venerable of the Syrian
Liturgical documents, the Second and Third Liturgies,
th q Baptismal Office, ancient and modern Syriac grammars,
and a Lectionary.

It is the earnest hope of the promoters of this Mission
that if this ancient Oriental church, once the first mission
agency m the world, can be reformed and enlightened,
she may yet be the means of evangelising the two
great sects of Moslems by means of missionaries akin
to them in customs, character, and habits of thought—
“ Orientals to Orientals”

The subject of Christian missions in Persia is a very
interesting one, and many thoughtful minds are asking
whether Christianity is likely to be a factor in the
future of the Empire 7 As things are, no direct efforts to
convert Moslems to Christianity can be made, for the
death penalty for apostasy is not legally abolished, and
even if it were, popular fanaticism would vent itself upon
proselytes. It must be recognised that the Christian
missionary is a disturbing element m Persia He is toler¬
ated, not welcomed, and tolerated only while his efforts
to detach people from the national faith are futile
Missions have been m operation m Persia for more than
fifty years, and probably at the present time there are
over seventy-five missionaries at work in the country.
If the value of their work were to be judged of by the
number of Moslem converts they have made it must be
pronounced an absolute failure.

The result of the impossibility of making any direct
attack upon Islam is that these excellent men and women

234

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

NOTES

are at present ostensibly engaged in the attempt to
purify the faith and practice of the Syrian and Armenian
churches, to enlighten their members religiously and
intellectually, and to Christianise the Jews, waiting
patiently for the time when an aggressive movement
against Islam may be possible. In the meantime the
Holy Scriptures are being widely disseminated; the
preacher of Christianity itinerates among the villages, the
Christian religion is greatly discussed, and mi ssionary
physicians, the true pioneers of the faith, are modifying
by their personal influence the opposition to the progress
of the missionaries with whom they are associated.

On the whole, and in spite of slow progress and the
apparently insurmountable difficulties presented by hos¬
tility or indifference, I believe that Christian missions in
Persia, especially by their educational agencies and the
circulation of the Bible, are producing an increasing
under-current, tending towards secular as well as religious
progress, and are gaining an ever-growing influence, so
that, lamentably slow as the advance of Christianity is,
its prospects cannot justly be overlooked in considering
the probable future of Persia. 1

1 The absolute fact, however, is that Christian nations have not shown
any zeal in communicating the blessings of Christianity to Persia and
Southern Turkey. England has sent two missions—one to Baghdad,
the other to Julfa. America has five mission stations in Northern and
Western Persia, but not one in Southern Turkey or Arabia.

The populous shores of the Persian Gulf, the great tribes of the plains
of the Tigris and Euphrates, the Ilyats of Persia, the important cities of
Shiraz, Yezd, Meshed, Kashan, Efim, Kirmanshah, and all Southern,
Eastern, and Western Persia (excepting Hamadan and Urmi), are un¬
touched by Christian effort! Propagandism on a scale so contemptible
impresses intelligent Moslems as a sham, and is an injury to the Chris¬
tianity which it professes to represent.

LETTER XXVII

THE CITY OF URMI

235

LETTER XXVII

Urmi, Oct. 14-

Very few European travellers visit Urmi and its magni¬
ficent plain, the “ Paradise of Persia/’ though it is only
112 miles from Tabriz. Gardens come up to the city walls,
and the plain, about fifty miles long by eighteen broad, is
cultivated throughout, richly wooded, very populous, and
bounded on the east not by a desert with its aridity, but
by the blue waters of the Urmi Sea, and on the west
by the magnificent mountains of Kurdistan. The city is
some miles to the west of the lake.

Urmi is on the whole very pretty and in good repair.
The Christian quarter is almost handsome, well built and
substantial, and the houses are generally faced with red
bricks. The bazars are large and well supplied, and
trade is active. The walls and gateways are in good
repair, and so is the deep ditch, which can be filled with
water, which surrounds them. Every gate is approached
by an avenue of noble elcegnus and other fruit trees. The
gardens within the walls are very fine, and orchards and
vineyards, planes and poplars testify to the abundance
of water and the excellent method of its distribution.
The altitude is stated at 4400 feet. The estimate of the
population varies from 12,000 to 20,000.

Though the Sea of Urmi receives fourteen rivers, some
of them by no means insignificant, and has no known
outlet, it recedes rather steadily, leaving bare a soil of

236

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXVII

exceeding richness, and acres of dazzling salt. It has
very few boats, and none suited for passenger traffic. Its
waters are so salt that fish cannot live in them.

The antiquarian interests of Urmi consist in the semi-
subterranean Syrian church of Mart-Mariam, said to have
been built by the Magi on their return from Bethlehem!
a tower and mosque of Arab architecture seven centuries
old, and some great mounds outside the walls, from sixty
to one hundred feet in height, composed entirely of ashes,
marking the site of the altars at which the rites of one
of the purest of the ancient faiths were celebrated. As
the birthplace of Zoroaster, and for several subsequent
ages the sacred city of the Fire Worshippers and the
scene of the restoration of the Mithraic rites, Urmi must
always remain interesting.

The Christian population of the city is not very large,
though it is estimated that there are 20,000 Syrian
Christians in the villages of the plain. The city Syrians
are mostly well-to-do people, who have come into Urmi
to practise trades. The best carpenters, as well as the
best photographers and tailors, are Syrians, and though
in times past the Moslems refused to buy from the
Christians on the ground that things made by them are
unclean, the prejudice is passing away.

There is a deputy-governor called the Serperast, whose
duty it is to deal with the Christians. The office seems
to have been instituted for their protection at the instiga¬
tion of the British Government, but the Europeans regard it
simply as a means of oppression and extortion, and desire
its abolition. Canon Maclean goes so far as to say, “ The
multiplication of judges in Persia means the multiplica¬
tion of injustice, and of the number of persons who can
extort money from the unfortunate people.” The Ser-
perast depends chiefly for his living and for keeping up a
staff of servants on what he can get out of the Christians

LETTER XXVII THE SYRIANS OR “ASSYRIANS

237

in the way of fines and bribes, and consequently he foments
quarrels and encourages needless litigation on all hands,
the Syrians being by all accounts one of the most litigi¬
ous of peoples.

I write of the Christians of Urmi and its plain as
Syrians because that is the name by which they call
themselves. We know them at home as Nestorians , but
this is a nickname given to them by outsiders, and I
know of no reason why we should use a nomenclature
which attaches to a nation the stigma of an ancient
“heresy.” They are sometimes called Chaldaeans, 1 and
the present Archbishop of Canterbury has brought into
currency the term “ Assyrians,” which, however, is never
used by themselves, or by any Orientals in speaking of
them. The Moslems apply the name Nasara (Nazarenes)
solely to the Syrian Christians. They claim that Chris¬
tianity was introduced among them by the Magi on their
return from Bethlehem. The highest estimate of their
numbers is 120,000, and of these more than 80,000 are
in Turkey. The Persian Syrians inhabit the flat country,
chiefly the plains of Urmi and Salmas, where the fertile
lands are most carefully cultivated by their industry.

In my last letter I remarked upon the prosperity and
garden-like appearance of the Urmi Plain. Its 20,000
Syrian inhabitants usually live in separate villages from
the Kurds, Persians, and Armenians, and are surrounded
on all sides by Moslems of the Shiah sect. The landlords
or Aghas of their villages are generally Moslems, who govern
their tenants in something of feudal style. Land is a
favourite investment in Persia, and owing to the indus¬
trious habits of the Syrians, the “ Agha-ship ” of their
villages commands a high price. The Aghas often oppress
the peasants, but the tenure of houses is fairly secure, and
according to Canon Maclean, to whom I am indebted for
1 A name usually applied, to the Roman Uniats at Mosul.

238

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXVII

my information, a system much like the Scotch feuing
system (though without feu charters) is in force. If a
man wishes to build a house he takes a present of a
few sugar-loaves or a few brans with him, and applies to
an Agha for a site. After it is granted he pays an annual
ground rent of 4s. 9d, but he can build his house as he
pleases, and it cannot be taken from him so long as he
pays his ground rent. Moreover, he can sell the house
and give a title-deed to the purchaser, with the sole
restriction that the new possessor must become a vassal
of the Agha.

In addition to the payment of the ground rent, the
tenant is taxed annually by the Agha for every female
buffalo 2s., for every cow Is., and for every ewe and she-
goat 6d., after they have begun to bear young. The Agha
also receives from each householder annually two fowls,
a load of bizibs, some eggs, three days’ labour or the price
of it, and a fee on every occasion of a marriage. Each
house pays also a tax of 8d. a year and gives a present
of firewood to the Serjoerast of Urmi, the Mussulman
governor of the Christians. In his turn the Agha pays to
the Shah from a third to a half of the total taxation.

A village -house, even when built of sun-dried bricks,
rarely costs more than £35, and often not the half of that
sum. 1 The great feature of a Syrian dwelling is what is
called emphatically “ the house ”; the combined living-
room, bedroom, smoking-room, kitchen, bakery, and work¬
room of one or more families. This room cannot possess
a balabhana 3 as its openings for light and air are in the
roof. A stable, store-rooms, and granary are attached to it.

Vineyards are the chief reliance of the Syrians of the
Urmi Plain, their produce, whether as grapes, raisins, or
wine, being always marketable. They are held on the

1 The mode of building mud houses was described in Letter VI. vol. i
p. 149.

LETTER XXVII

THE TENURE OF LAND

239

same tenure as the houses, and as long as the vine-stocks
remain in the- ground, and the ground rent, which is
7s. a year for the tanap, a piece of ground 256 yards
square, is paid, the tenant cannot be evicted. Where
vineyards are sub-let for a year a fair rent is from 10 s.
to 12s. a tanap. If a tenant buys a property from an
Agha the yearly taxation is 5 s. a tanap ; grass fields and
orchards are held on the same tenure as vineyards, and
at the same rent. With ploughed land the case is
different. If the tenant provides the seed, etc., he gives
the Agha a third of the produce, and if the Agha provides
seed the tenant returns two-thirds. The tenant of
ploughed land may be changed annually.

This paying the rent in kind is going on just now in
every village, and the Aghas secure themselves against
dishonesty by requiring that the grain shall be threshed
on their floors. In addition, their servants watch night
and day by turns, in an erection similar to the “ lodge in
a garden of cucumbers ” or melons, an arbour of boughs
perched at a height of seven or eight feet upon four
poles. T^he landlord’s nasr appears at intervals to take
away his master’s share of the grain. It is all delightfully
primitive.

The arrangements sound equitable, the taxes are
moderate, and in some respects the Christians are not
more victimised by their landlords than are their Moham¬
medan neighbours. The people acknowledge readily
that as regards oppression they are much better off
than they were, and that in this respect the presence of
the American missionaries in Urmi has been of the
greatest advantage to them, for these gentlemen never
fail to represent any gross case of oppression which can
be thoroughly substantiated to the Governor of Urmi, or
in the last resort to the Governor of Azerbijan. The
oppressions exercised by the Aghas consist in taking extra

240

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXVII

taxes, demanding labour without wages, and carrying off
Christian girls for their harams. The laws which affect
Christians specially and injuriously are—

1. That the evidence of a Christian is not received
against a Mussulman.

2. That if any member of a Christian family becomes
a Moslem, he or she becomes entitled to claim the whole
property of the “ house,” which as often as not consists
of two or three families. The apostatising member of a
household is usually a girl, who either falls in love with
or is carried off by a young Mohammedan, who declares
truly or falsely that she has embraced his creed. A
good governor is careful in these matters, and in some
cases gives the girl only her share of the family property,
but a bad governor may at any time carry out the law,
or use it as a means for extorting ruinous bribes. 1

Every Christian man above the age of sixteen pays a
poll tax of 3 s. annually for exemption from military
service, but from this impost the headman of a village,
who is at once its tax-gatherer and its spokesman, is

1 Dr. Labaree, whose experience stretches back for thirty years, writes
of the races under Persian rule in the Province of Azerbijan in the
following terms : “The Nestorians and Armenians of Persia in common
with their Mohammedan neighbours suffer from the evil forms of society
and government which have been bequeathed to them from the earliest
dawnings of history. Landlordism in its worst forms bears sway. The
poor rayat or tenant must pay his landlord one-half or two-thirds of all
the produce of his farm. Aside from his poll tax he must pay a tax on
his house, his hayfields, and his fruit trees, and on all his stock with the
exception of the oxen with which he tills the soil. But this is not all.
He is virtually at the mercy of his Agha, which translated literally means
master, a word which most correctly describes the relation of the landlord
to his peasants. By law he may require from each of his rayats three
days of labour without pay. In reality he makes them work for him as
much as he sees fit. He helps himself to what he pleases whenever he
makes them a visit. He sells them grain and flour above/the market price.
He ties them up and beats them for slight offences. And to all this and
much else must the poor peasant submit for fear of worse persecutions
if he complains. In these respects Moslem, Christian, and Jew suffer alike.”

LETTER XXVII

SYRIAN LITIGIOUSNESS

241

free. He ranks next to the priest, and is treated by the
villagers with considerable respect. I have found the
Syrian kokhas as polite and obliging as the Persian
ketchudas.

Although the Persian Government has been tolerably
successful in subduing the Kurds within its territory,
the Christians of the slopes of the • Urmi Plain are
exposed to great losses of sheep and cattle from Kurdish
mountaineers, who (it is said) cross the Turkish frontier,
and return into Turkey with their booty . 1

The American and English missionaries do not paint
the Sy rians couleur de rose, though the former during
their long residence in the country must have lifted up
several hundreds to the blessings of a higher life, and
these in rising themselves must have exercised an un¬
conscious influence on their brethren. Since I came I
have seen several women whose tone would bear com¬
parison with that of the best among ourselves, and who
owe it gratefully to the training and influence of the
Fiske Seminary. I like the women much better than
the men.

The Christians complain terribly of the way in which
“justice” is administered, and doubtless nothing can be
worse, but the Europeans say that the people bring much
of its hardship upon themselves by their frightful
litigiousness, and their habit of going to law about the
veriest trifles. Intense avarice seems to be a character¬
istic of the Syrians of the Persian plains, and they fully
share with other Orientals in the failings of untruthful¬
ness and untrustworthiness. They are said to be very
drunken as well as grossly ignorant and superstitious,
and the abuses and unutterable degradation of their
church perpetuate all that is bad in the national

1 Later, I heard the same accusation brought against the Persian Kurds
by a high official in Constantinople.

VOL. II It

242

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

LETTER XXVII

character. The women are spoken of as chaste, and
some of the worst forms of vice are happily unknown
among the Syrians, though they are practised by the
Moslems around them. Their hospitality, their sufferings
for the faith, and their family attachment are justly to
be reckoned among their virtues, but on the whole I
think that the extraordinary interest attaching to them,
and which I feel very strongly myself, is due rather to
their Past than to their Present.

On this plain the dress of the men is much assimilated
to that of the Persians, but the women wear their national
costume. The under-garment is a coloured shirt, over
which is worn a sleeved waistcoat of a different colour,
and above this is an open-fronted coat reaching to the
knees. Loose trousers, so full as to look like a petticoat,
are worn, and frequently an apron and a heavy silver
belt are added. The head-dress is very becoming, and
consists of a raised cap of cloth or silk, embroidered or
jewelled, with a white muslin veil over it and the head,
but the face is exposed, except in the case of married
women, who draw a part of the veil over the mouth.
It is not proper that the hair should be seen.

There is something strikingly Biblical about their
customs and speech. At dinner at Geog-tapa I noticed
that it is a mark of friendship for a man to dip a piece
of bread (a sop) into the soup and give it to another, a
touching reminiscence. A priest is greeted with “ Hail,
Master,” a teacher is addressed as “ Rabban,” the saluta-
tation is “ Peace be with you,” and such words as Talitha
cumi and Ejphjphatha occasionally startle the ear in the
midst of unintelligible speech, suggesting that the Aramaic
of our Lord’s day was very near akin to the old Syriac,
of which the present vernacular is a development. As
among the Moslems, pious phrases are common. A Syrian
receiving a kindness often replies, “ May God give you

LETTER XXVII

PIOUS PHEASES

■ 243

the kingdom of Heaven / 3 and when a man makes a pur¬
chase, or enters on a new house, or puts on a new garment,
it is customary to say to him, “May God bless your
house, your garment / 5 etc. A child learning the letters
of the alphabet is taught to say at the close, “ Glory to
Christ our King . 55 A copyist begins his manuscript by
writing within an ornamental margin, “ In the strength
of our Lord Jesus Christ we begin to write / 5 and a man
entering on a piece of work honours the Apostolic com¬
mand by saying, “ If the Lord will I shall accomplish it . 551
My friends tell me that I shall find the Syrians of
the mountains a different people, and a mountaineer is
readily recognised in the streets by the beauty and
picturesqueness of his dress.

The eight days in Urmi have been a very pleasant
whirl, a continual going to and fro between the College
and the Fiske Seminary, the English clergy house and
the Sisters 5 house, receiving Syrian visitors at home and
holding a reception for them in the city, calling on
the Governor, visiting the English upper school, where
deacons, in the beautiful Syrian costume, with daggers
in their girdles, look more like bandits than' theological
students, and spending a day at Geog-tapa, where I saw
Shamasha Khananeshoo’s (Deacon Abraham’s) orphanage,
dined with him and his charming wife, and a number
of other Syrians in Syrian style, and went to the
crowded Geog-tapa church, where the part of the floor
occupied by the women looked like a brilliant tulip-bed.
Here, in the middle of the service, the Qasha or priest
said that the people, especially the women, were very
anxious to know for what reason I was travelling, to
which evidence of an enlightened curiosity I returned a

1 The national customs of the Syrians are endless, and in many ways
very interesting. They are treated very fully in a scarce volume called
Residence in Persia among the Kestoriam , by Dr. Justin Perkins.

244

JOUENEYS IN PEESIA

LETTER XXVII

reply through an interpreter, and reminded them of the
glories of their historic church and its missionary fervour.

Geog-tapa {cerulean Mil) possesses one of the largest
of the Zoroastrian mounds of ashes. It is a pity that
these are not protected, and that the villagers are allowed
to carry away the soil for manure, and to break up the
walls and cells (?) which are imbedded in them for building
materials. This vandalism has brought to notice various
curious relics, such as earthenware vessels of small size
and unique shape, and a stone tomb containing a human
skeleton, with several copper spikes from four to five
inches long driven into its skull. In another mound, at
some distance from this one, a large earthen sarcophagus
was discovered, also containing a skeleton with long nails
driven into its skull.

Deacon Abraham’s work is on the right lines, being
conducted entirely by Syrians. It is most economic¬
ally managed, and the children are trained in the simple
habits of Syrian peasants. The religious instruction is
bright and simple. The boys receive an elementary
education, a practical training in agriculture on some
lands belonging to the Orphanage, and in various useful
handicrafts. As much of the money for the support of
this work is raised in England, it is satisfactory to know
that the accounts are carefully audited by the American
missionaries.

The days have flown by, for, in addition to the social
whirl, I have been occupied in attempts, only partially
successful, to provide myself with necessaries for the
journey, and in an endeavour, altogether unsuccessful, to
replace Johannes by a trustworthy servant. The kind
friends here have lent me a few winter garments out of
their slender stock, and have helped me in every way.

It has been most difficult to get charvaclars . The
country on the other side of the frontier is said to

LETTER XXVII

RUMOURS OF RISKS

245

be “ unsettled,” no Persians will go by the route that I
wish to take, and two sets of Kurds, after making agree¬
ments to carry my loads, have disappeared. Various
Syrians have come down from the mountains with stories
of Kurdish raids on their sheep and cattle, but as such
things are always going on, and the impression that
“ things are much worse than usual ” does not rest on
any ascertained basis, my friends do not advise me to give
up the journey to Kochanes, and I am just starting en
route for Trebizond. I. L. B.

246

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

FAREWELL

FAREWELL IMPRESSIONS OF PERSIA

In the letters by which this chapter is preceded few
general opinions have been expressed on Persia, its
government, and its people, but now that I contemplate
them with some regard to perspective, and have reversed
some of my earlier and hastier judgments, I will, with
the reader's permission, give some of the impressions
formed during a journey extending over nine months,
chiefly in the western and south-western portions of the
Empire.

On the pillared plain of Persepolis, on the bull-
flanked portals which tower above the Hall of Xerxes,
the Palace of Darius, and the stairways with the sculp¬
tured bas-reliefs, which portray the magnificence, the
military triumphs, and the religious ceremonial of the
greatest of the Persian monarchs, runs the stately in¬
scription: “I am Xerxes the King, the Great King, the
King of Kings, the King of the many-peopled countries,
the Upholder of the Great World, the son of Darius the
King, the Achaemenian ” ; and on the tablets on the rock
of Besitun is inscribed in language as august the claim of
Darius the Mede to a dominion which in his day was
regarded as nearly universal.

The twenty-four centuries which have passed since
these claims were made have seen the ruin of the Palace-
Temples of Persepolis, the triumph of Islam over Zoro¬
astrianism, the devastating sweep of the hordes of Taimur-

impressions CONFIGURATION OF PERSIA

247

lane and other semi-barbaric conquerors, the destruction
of ancient art and frontiers, and the compression of the
Empire within comparatively narrow limits.

Still, these limi ts include an area about thrice the size
of Erance, the sovereign has reassumed the title of King
of King s, Persia takes her own place—and that not a low
one—in the comity of nations, and the genuine Persians
retain vitality enough to compel the allegiance of the
numerically important tribes included within their fron¬
tiers, though scarcely more than 30,000 soldiers are with
the colours at any given time.

Still, under a land system fourteen centuries old,
Persia produces cereals enough for home consumption
with a surplus for export; her peasants are thrifty and
industrious, and their methods of tillage, though among
the most ancient on earth, are well adapted to their pre¬
sent needs and the conditions of soil and climate.

Her merchants are able and enterprising, and her
sagacious liberality in the toleration of Christians and
Jews has added strength to her commercial position.

Though she has lost the high order of civilisation
which she possessed centuries before Christ, she has in no
sense relapsed into barbarism, and on the whole good
order and security prevail.

The condition of modern Persia has to be studied
along with that of the configuration of the country. The
traveller through Khorasan and Seistan, from the Gulf to
Tezd, or from Bushire to Tihran, views it as a sparsely-
peopled region—a desert with an occasional oasis, and
legitimately describes it as such. The traveller through
the “ Bakhtiari mountains,” and from Burujird through
Western Persia up to the Sea of Urmi, seeing the superb
pasturages • and perennial streams of the Zard-Kuh, the
Sabz-Kuh, and the Kuh-i-Rang, and the vast area of care¬
ful cultivation, sprinkled with towns and villages, which

248

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

FAREWELL

extends from a few miles north of Burujird to the walls
of Urmi and far beyond, may with equal fidelity describe
it as a land of abounding waters, a peopled and well-
watered garden.

The direction of my journey has been fully indicated.
It is only from the descriptions of others that I know
anything of the arid wastes of Eastern Persia or of the
moist and malarious provinces bordering on the Caspian
Sea, with their alluvial valleys and rice grounds, and
their jungle and forest-covered mountains, or of the
verdureless plains and steppes of Kerman and Laristan.

Persia proper, the country which has supplied the
race which has evinced such a remarkable vitality and
historic continuity, may be described as a , vast plateau
from 3500 to 6000 feet in altitude, extending on the east
into Afghanistan, on the north-west into Armenia, and
overlooking the Caspian to the north, and the Persian
Gulf and the vast levels of Mesopotamia to the south and
south-west.

To reach this platform from the south, lofty ranges,
which include the hotals of Shiraz, must be crossed.
Prom the Tigris valley on the west it is only accessible
by surmounting the Zagros chain and lesser ranges; and
to attain it from the north the traveller must climb the
rocky pathways of the Elburz mountains. This great
“Iranian plateau,” except in Eastern Persia, is inter¬
sected both by mountain ranges and detached mountain
masses, which store up in their sunless hollows the
snowfall on which all Persian agriculture depends, the
rainfall being so scanty as to be of little practical value.

Thus the possibility of obtaining supplies of water
from the melting snows dictates the drift of population,
and it seems unlikely that the plains of Eastern Persia,
where no such supplies exist, were ever more populous
than now. It was otherwise with parts of Central Persia,

impressions THE POPULATION OF PERSIA

249

now lying waste, for the remains of canals and kanaats
attest that a process of local depopulation has been going
on. It is the configuration of the country rather than
anything else which accounts for the unpeopled wastes
in some directions, and the constant succession of towns
and populous villages in others.

Of the population thus distributed along hill slopes
and on the plains at the feet of the ranges, there is no
accurate record, and the total has been variously esti¬
mated at from six to nine millions. Estimates of the
urban and village populations were in most cases supplied
to me by the Persian local officials, but from these I am
convinced that it is necessary to make a very liberal
deduction. General Schindler, a gentleman for some
years in the Persian Government service, who has
travelled over a great part of Persia with the view of
ascertaining its resources and condition, in the year 1885
estimated its population at 7,653,000. In his analysis
the Christian and the Bakhtiari and Feili Lur popu¬
lations are, according to present information, greatly
under-estimated.

If I may venture to hazard an opinion, after travelling
over a considerable area of Western Persia, it would be
that the higher estimate is nearest the mark, for the
natural increase in time of peace, as accepted by statists,
is three-quarters per cent per annum, and Persia has had
peace and freedom from famine for very many years. 1

The country population consists of rayats or per¬
manent cultivators, and Ilyats or nomadic pastoral tribes.
Coal-fields and lead and iron may hereafter produce
commercial centres, but the industry of Persia at present
may be said to be nearly altogether agricultural.

1 On this subject there can be no better authority7than the Hon.
George N. Ourzon, M.P., who after careful study has estimated the total
population of Persia at over nine millions.

250

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

FABEWELL

The settled peasant population, so far as I am able to
judge, is well fed and fairly well clothed, and the habita¬
tions suit the climate. The people are poor, but not
with the poverty of Europe—that is, except in famine
years, there is no scarcity of the necessaries of life, with
the single exception of fuel.

The wages of the agricultural labourer vary from 5d.
a day with food to 9d. without; a skilled mason earns
Is. 6d., a carpenter Is. 4d. Men - servants get from
17 s. to £2 per month, nominally without board, but with
modakel and other pickings; female servants much less.
Prices are, however, low. Clothing, tea, coffee, and
sugar cost about the same as in Europe. The cotton
worn by the poor is very cheap. Wheat, which is sold by
weight, costs at harvest-time.from 7s. 6d. to 15s. per load
of 320 lbs. I have been told by several cultivators that
a man can live and bring up an average family on some¬
thing under £6 a year.

I did not see anything like “grinding poverty” in
the villages. If it existed, the old and helpless could
scarcely be supported by their relatives, and the women,
in spite of the seclusion of custom and faith, would be
compelled to work in- the fields, a “ barbarism ” which I
never saw in Persia among Moslems.

In both town and country the working classes
appeared to me to be as comfortable and, on the whole,
as happy as people in the same condition in life in
most other countries, with the exception, and that not
a small one, of their liability to official exactions. The
peasants are grossly ignorant, hardy, dirty, bigoted,
domestic, industrious, avaricious, sober, and tractable, and
ages of misrule have developed in them many of the
faults of oppressed Oriental peoples. Of the country
outside of the district in which they live they usually
know nothing, they detest the local governors, but to the

IMPRESSIONS

PERSIAN INDEPENDENCE

251

Shah they willingly owe, and are ready to pay, a right
loyal allegiance.

My impression of the Persians of the trading and
agricultural classes is that they are thoroughly unwarlike,
fairly satisfied if they are let alone, unpatriotic, and
apparently indifferent to the prospect of a Russian “ occu¬
pation.” Their bearing is independent rather than
manly; their religious feelings are strong and easily
offended; their sociability and love of fun come out
strongly in the freedom of their bazars. Europeans do
not meet with anything of the grovelling deference to
which we are accustomed in India. If there be obsequi¬
ousness in stereotyped phraseology, there is none in
manner. We are treated courteously as strangers, but
are made to feel that we are in no wise essential to the
well-being of the country, and a European traveller with¬
out introductions to the Provincial authorities finds
himself a very insignificant person indeed.

Governors and the governed are one. They under¬
stand each other, and are of one creed, and there is no rul¬
ing alien race to interfere with ancient custom or freedom
of action, or to wound racial susceptibilities with every
touch. Even the traditional infamies of administration
are expected and understood by those whom they chiefly
concern.

The rich men congregate chiefly in the cities. It is
very rare to find any but the poorer Khans, Aghas or
proprietors of villages, men little removed from the
peasants around them, living on their own properties.
The wealthy Seigneur, the lord of many villages, resides in
Tihran, Kirmanshah, or Isfahan; pays a nasr, who manages
his estate and fleeces his tenants, and spends his revenues
himself on urban pleasures. The purchase of villages
and their surrounding lands is a favourite investment.
This system of absenteeism not only prevents that friendly

252

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

FAREWELL

contact between landowner and peasant which is such
a desirable feature of proprietorship, but it leaves the
villages exposed to the exactions of the nasr, and without
a semblance of protection from the rapacious demands of
the provincial authorities. It is noteworthy that fortunes
made in trade are seeking investment in land.

The upper classes in Persia appear to me to differ
widely from Orientals, as they are supposed to be, and
often really are. They love life intensely, fill it with
enjoyment, and neither regard existence as a task to be
toiled through nor as a burden to be got rid of. Hand¬
some, robust, restless, intelligent, imaginative, accumu¬
lative, vivacious, polished in manner and speech, many of
them excellent linguists, well acquainted with their own
literature, especially with their poets; lavish, alike in
expenditure on personal luxuries and in charity to the
poor; full of artistic instincts, and loving to surround
themselves with the beautiful; inquisitive, adaptable;
addicted to sport and out-of-doors life, untruthful both
from hereditary suspiciousness and excess of courtesy—
the Persian gentleman has an individuality of his own
which is more nearly akin to the French or Eussian than
to the Oriental type.

My impressions of the morals both of the Persian
peasantry and the Bakhtiari Lurs are, as to some points,
rather favourable than the reverse, and I think and hope
that there is as much domestic affection and fidelity as is
compatible with a religion which more or less effectually
secures the degradation of woman. The morals of the
upper classes are, I believe, very easy. In various care¬
fully written papers, one of them at least official, very
painful glimpses have been given incidentally into the
state of Persian upper-class morality, and undoubtedly
the intrigues of the andarun are as unfavourable to
purity as they are to happiness.

IMPRESSIONS

PERSIAN EDUCATION

253

For the traveller the greater part of Persian territory
is absolutely safe. I have ridden on horseback through
it at every season of the year, in some regions without
an escort, in others with Persian or Kurdish guards sup¬
plied by the local authorities, and was never actually the
victim of any form of robbery, except the pilfering from an
unguarded tent. Though travelling with only an Indian
servant, I found the provincial authorities everywhere
courteous, and ready to aid my journey by every means
within their power, though in Persia as elsewhere I
never claimed, and indeed never received, any special
favour on the ground of sex.

A few darker shadows remain to be put in. There is
no education truly so called for Persians, except in Tihran,
and under the existing system the next generation is not
likely to be more enlightened than the present. All the
towns and the larger villages possess mosque schools, in
which the highest education bestowed is a smattering of
Arabic and a knowledge of the tales of Saadi. The
Persian characters are taught, and some attention is paid
to caligraphy, for a man who can write well is sure to
make a fair living. The parrot-like reading of the Koran
in Arabic is the summum bonum of the teaching. Very
few of the boys in the village schools learn to write,
but if a clever lad aspires to be a mirza, or secretary he
pays great attention to the formation of the Persian
characters, and acquires that knowledge of compliment,
phrase, and trope which is essential to his proposed
calling.

Reading, writing, and the elements of arithmetic are
usual among the bazar class and merchants, but with
the rest the slight knowledge of reading acquired in
childhood is soon forgotten, and the ability to repeat a
few verses from the Koran and a few prayers in Arabic
,is all that remains of the mosque school “education.”

254

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

FAREWELL

School discipline is severe, and the rope and pulley and
bastinado are used as instruments of punishment.

A few young men in the cities, who are destined to
he mollahs, hakims, or lawyers, proceed to the Medressehs
or Colleges, where they acquire a thorough knowledge of
Arabic, do some desultory reading, and “hang on” to
thei r teachers, at whose feet they literally sit on all
occasions, and after a few years have been spent in rather
a profitless way they usually find employment.

Government employes, courtiers, the higher officers in
the army, diplomats, and sons of wealthy Khans receive
the rudiments of a liberal education in the College at
Tihran, where they frequently acquire a very creditable
knowledge of French.

The a dmir able schools established by the American
and English missionaries at Urnd, Tihran, Tabriz, Hama-
dan, and Julfa affect only the Armenians and Syrians
and a few Jews and Zoroastrians. Outside of these there
is neither intellectual nor moral training, and even the
simplest duties of life, such as honesty, truthfulness, and
regard for contract, are never inculcated.

It may be supposed that in conformity with the Moslem
axiom, " not ‘to open the eyes of a woman too wide,” the
bulk of Per sian women are not thought worthy of any
education at all. A few of the daughters of rich men
can read the Koran, but without comprehending it, and
can both read and recite poetry.

Throughout the country, law, that is the Urf or un¬
written law, a mass of precedents and traditions orally
handed down and administered by secular judges—is not
held in any respect at all, and while the rich can over¬
ride it by bribery, the poor regard it only as a commodity
which is bought and sold, and which they are too poor to
buy. _ ,

The other department of Persian law, the Shahr,

IMPRESSIONS

NASE-ED-DIN

255

which, is based upon the Koran, and is administered by
religious teachers, takes cognisance chiefly of civil cases,
and its administration is nearly as corrupt as that of the
TJrf. Law, in the sense in which we understand it, as the
avenger of wrong and the sublimely impartial protector
of individual rights and liberties, has no existence at all
in Persia.

The curse of the country is venal mal-administration.
It meets one at every turn, and in protean shapes.
There is no official conscience, and no public opinion
to act as a check upon official unscrupulousness. Of
Government as an institution for the good of the
governed there is no conception. The greed, which is
among the most painful features of Persian character,
finds its apotheosis in officialism. From the lowest to
the highest rounds of the official ladder unblushing
bribery is the modus ojperandi of promotion.

It is very obvious that the Shah himself is the
Government. He is an absolute despot, subject to no
controlling influences but the criticisms of the European
press, and the demands of the European Legations. He
is the sole executive. His ministers are but servants of
the highest grade, whose duties consist in carrying out
his orders. The lives and properties of all his subjects
are held only at his pleasure. His sons are but his tools,
to be raised or degraded at his will, and the same may
be said of the highest personages in the Empire. The
Shah is the State,—irresponsible and all-powerful.

Nasr-ed-Din is a most diligent ruler. No pleasures,
not even the chase, to which he is devoted, divert his
attention from business. He takes the initiative in
all policy, guides with a firm hand the destinies of
Persia, supervises every department, appoints directly to
all offices of importance, and by means known to absolute
rulers has his eyes in every part of his dominions. He

256

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

FAREWELL

is regarded as a very able man,—his European travels
have made him to some extent an enlightened one.

His reign of forty-two years has been disfigured,
especially in its earlier portion, by some acts which we
should regard as great crimes, but which do not count as
such in Oriental judgment; neither are the sale of offices,
the taking of bribes under the disguise of presents, the
receiving of what is practically modakel , or exactions upon
rich men, repugnant in the slightest degree to the Oriental
mind.

Remembering the unwholesome traditions of his
throne and dynasty, we must give him full credit for
everything in which he makes a new departure. Sur¬
rounded by intrigue, hampered by the unceasing political
rivalry between England and Russia, thwarted by the
obstructive tactics of the latter at every turn, and with
the shadow of a Russian occupation of the northern pro¬
vinces of the Empire looming in a not far distant future,
any step in the direction of reform taken by the Shah
involves difficulties of which the outer world has no
conception, not only in braving the antagonism of
his powerful neighbour, and her attempted interference
with the internal concerns of Persia, but in overcoming
the apathy of his people and the prejudices of his co¬
religionists.

As it is, under him Persia has awakened partially from
her long sleep. The state of insecurity described by the
travellers of thirty and forty years ago no longer exists.
Far feebler than Turkey, Persia, through the resolute will
of one man, has eclipsed Turkey altogether in suppressing
brigandage, in subduing the Kurds and other nomadic
tribes, in securing safety for travellers and caravans even
on the remoter roads, and in producing tolerable content¬
ment among the Armenian and Nestorian populations.

Under him the authority of the central Government

IMPRESSIONS

OFFICIAL COERUPTION

257

has been consolidated, the empty treasury has been filled,
the semi-independence of the provincial governors has
been broken, Persia has been re-created as a coherent
Empire, certain roads have been made, posts and tele¬
graphs have been inaugurated, an Imperial Bank with
branches in some of the principal towns has been formed,
foreign capital has been encouraged or at least permitted
to enter the country, a concession for the free navigation
of the Karun has been granted, and the Nasiri Company,
the most hopeful token of native progress, has received
Imperial favour.

But under all this lies the inherent rottenness of
Persian administration, an abyss of official corruption and
infamy without a bottom or a shore, a corruption of
heredity and tradition, unchecked by public opinion or
the teachings of even an’ elementary education in morals
and the rudiments of justice. There are few men pure
enough to judge their fellows or to lift clean hands to
Heaven, and power and place are valued for their
opportunities for plunder.

In no part of Persia did I hear any complaint of the
tribute levied by the Shah. It is regarded as legitimate.
But in most districts allegations concerning the rapacity
and exactions of the provincial governors were universal,
and there is unfortunately great reason for believing
them well founded. The farming of the taxes, the prac¬
tical purchase of appointments, the gigantic system of
bribery by which all offices are obtained, the absence of
administrative training and supervision, the traditions of
office, and the absolute dependence of every official on
the pleasure of a Sovereign surrounded by the intrigues
of an Oriental court, are conditions sufficient to destroy
the virtue of all but the best of men.

Where all appointments are obtained practically by
bribery, and no one has any security in the tenure of an
VOL. II s

258

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

FAREWELL

office of which slander, bribery, or intrigue at Court may
at any moment deprive him, it is natural that the most
coveted positions should be those in which the largest
perquisites can be made, and that their occupants should
feel it their bounden duty to “ make hay while the sun
shines/’—in other words, to squeeze the people so long as
there is anything left to squeeze. The great drawback
of the Persian peasant’s life is that he has no security
for the earnings of labour. He is the ultimate sponge to
be sucked dry by all above him. Every official squeezes
the man below him, and the highest is squeezed by the
Crown.

Little, if any, of the revenue drawn from the country
is spent on works of public utility, and roads, bridges,
official buildings, fortifications, and all else are allowed to
fall into disrepair. In downright English the administra¬
tion of government and law is execrable, and there can
be little hope of a resurrection for Persia until the system
under which she is impoverished be reformed or swept
away.

But who is to cleanse this Augean stable ? Who will
introduce the elementary principles of justice ? Are tools
of the right temper to work with to be found among
the men of this generation ? Is the dwarfing and narrow¬
ing creed 1 of Islam to be replaced or in any way to be

1 In The Caliphate, its Rise , Decline , and Fall , a valuable recent
work, its author, Sir W. Muir, K.C.S.I., dwells very strongly on the
narrowing influence of Islam on national life, and concludes his review of
it in the following words: “ As regards the spiritual, social, and dogmatic
aspect of Islam, there has been neither progress nor material change.
Such as we found it in the days of the Caliphate, such is it also at the
present day. Christian nations may advance in civilisation, freedom, and
morality, in philosophy, science, and the arts, but Islam stands still.
And thus stationary, so far as the lessons of its history avail, it will
remain.” In a chapter at the end of his book he deals with polygamy,
servile concubinage, temporary marriages, and the law of divorce, as
cankering the domestic life of Mohammedan countries, and infallibly
neutralising all civilising influences.

impressions A POSSIBLE RESURRECTION

259

modified by Christianity ? It looks very much as if
the men to initiate and carry out administrative and
financial reforms are not forthcoming, and that, unless
the Shah is willing to import or borrow them, the
present system of official corruption, mendacity, bribery,
and obstruction may continue to prevail.

The inherent weakness of Persia lies in her administra¬
tive system rather than in her sparse population and
paucity of fuel and water, a paucity arising partly out of
misgovernment. In the felt evils of this system, and
in the idea that law, equitable taxation, and security for
the earnings of labour are distinctively European blessings,
lies a part of the strength of Russia in Persia. I have
elsewhere remarked upon the indifference with which
Russian annexation is contemplated. A reformed system
of administration, by giving the Persian people some¬
thing to live for and die for, would doubtless evoke the
dormant spirit of patriotism, and render foreign conquest,
or acquisition without conquest, a less easy task.

After living for ten months among the Persian people,
and fully recognising their faults, I should regret to see
them absorbed by the “ White Czar ” or any other power.
A country which for more than 2000 years has maintained
an independent existence, and which possesses customs, a
language, a civilisation, and a nationality of its own, and
works no injury to its neighbours, has certainly a raison
d’etre.

My early impressions of Persia were of effeteness
and ruin, but as I learned to know more of the
vitality, energy, and industry of her people, and of the
capacities of her prolific soil, I have come to regard her
resurrection under certain circumstances as a possibility,
and cordially to echo the wish eloquently expressed by
the Marquis of Salisbury on the occasion of the Shah’s
last visit to England: “We desire above all things that

260

JOURNEYS IN PERSIA

IMPRESSIONS

Persia shall not only be prosperous, but be strong,_

strong in her resources, strong in her preparations, strong
in her alliances,—in order that she may pursue the
peaceful path on which she has entered in security and
tranquillity.” I. L. B.

LETTER XXVIII

UNRULY KATIRGIS

261

LETTER XXVIII

Kochanes, Oct 23.

The Kurdish hatirgis turned out very badly. They came
at twelve instead of eight, compelling me to do only a
half-day’s march. Then they brought six horses instead
of the four which had been bargained for, and said they
would “ throw down the loads ” if I did not take them.
Each night they insisted on starting the next morning
at daybreak, but no persuasions could get them off before
eight. They said they could not travel with a Christian
except in broad daylight. They would only drive a mile
an hour, and instead of adhering to their contract to bring
me here in four days, took four to come half-way. On
the slightest remonstrance they were insolent and violent,
and threatened to “ throw down the loads ” in the most
inconvenient places, and they eventually became so
mutinous that I was obliged to dismiss them at the half¬
way halt at the risk of not getting transport any farther. 1

The “ throw on the road ” from Urmi was a very large
one, and consisted of nearly all the English and American
Mission clergy and two Syrians, all on screaming, biting,
kicking horses. It was a charming ride through fruitful
country among pleasant villages to Anhar. The wind
was strong and bracing. Clouds were drifting grandly

1 I have since heard that these Kurds, a short time afterwards, be¬
trayed some Christian travellers into the hands of some of their own
people, by whom they were robbed and brutally maltreated.

262

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxvra

over the splendid mountains to the west, the ranges to
the north were glorified by rich blue colouring, purple in
the shadows; among mountains on the east the Urmi
sea showed itself as a turquoise streak, and among gar¬
dens and vineyards in the middle distance rose Zoroastrian
cones of ashes, and the great mound, which tradition
honours as the scene of the martyrdom of St. George.

When all my kind friends left me, and I walked
alone in the frosty twilight on the roof of my comfort¬
able room in the QashaJs house, and looked towards the
wall of the frontier mountains through which my journey
lay, I felt an unwonted feeling of elation at the prospect
before me, which no possible perils from Kurds, or from
the sudden setting-in of winter could damp, and thus far
the interest is much greater even than I expected.

The next morning I was joined by Qasha -, a Syrian

priest, a man of great learning and intelligence, a Turkish
subject and landed proprietor, who knows everybody in
this region, and speaks English well. He is fearfully
anxious and timid, partly from a dread of being robbed
of his splendid saddle mule, and partly from having the
responsibility of escorting an English lady on a journey
which has turned out full of peril.

On the long ascent from Anhar a bitter wintry wind
prevailed, sweeping over the tattered thistles and the
pale belated campanulas which alone remain of the
summer flora, but the view from the summit was one of
rare beauty. The grandly drifting clouds of the night
before had done their work, and had draped the Kurdish
mountains half-way down with the first snows of winter,
while the valley at their feet, in which Merwana lies,
was a smiling autumn scene of flowery pasturage and
busy harvest operations under the magic of an atmo¬
sphere of living blue.

Merwana is a village of 100 houses, chiefly Christian,

letter xxviii

A FORLORN HOPE

263

though it has a Kurdish ketchuda. It is a rich village,
or was, being both pastoral and agricultural. The
slopes are cultivated up to a great height, and ox sleds
bring the sheaves to the threshing-floor. The grain is
kept in great clay-lined holes under ground, covered with
straw and earth. I write that the village was rich.
Lately a cloud of Kurds armed with rifles swooped down
upon it towards evening, drove off 900 sheep, and killed
a man and woman. The villagers appealed to Govern¬
ment, after which Hesso, a redoubtable Kurdish chief in
its pay, went up with a band of men to Marbishu, a
Christian village in Turkey, drove off 1460 sheep, and
offered to repay Merwana with the stolen property. As
matters now stand 7 0 0 of the poorest of the sheep have
been restored to Marbishu, Merwana loses all, and Hesso
and his six robber brothers have gained 760. The sole
hope of the plundered people of both villages is in the
intercession of Dr. Cochrane with the Governor of
Azerbijan. 1

As I reached Merwana at 10 A.M., and the katirgis,
after raging for an hour, refused to proceed, I took Mirza
and Qasha Bardah, the priest under whose hospitable roof
I lodged, with me, and went up the valley to Ombar,
the abode of Hesso, with the vague hope of “ doing some¬
thing ” for the poor people. The path lay among bright
streams and flowery pastures, the sun was warm, the air
sharp, the mountains uplifted their sunlit snows into a
heaven of delicious blue, the ride was charming. Hesso’s
village, consisting of a few very low rough stone houses,
overshadowed by great cones of kiziks, is well situated on
a slope above a torrent issuing from a magnificent cleft
in the mountain wall, at the mouth of which is a square
keep on a rock.

1 I give the story as it was repeatedly told to me. It was a very shady
and complicated transaction throughout.

264

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxviii

Hesso’s house is just a but and a ben/’ with a door
which involves stooping. Its rough stone walls are un¬
plastered, and the only light admitted comes from a hole
in the roof, which serves to let out the smoke. I confess

HESSO KHAN.

to a feeling of trepidation when I asked to see the
Kurdish chief, and I felt the folly of my errand, A
superbly-dressed Kurd took us into a room dense with
tobacco smoke, which, from its darkness, the roughness of
its walls, and the lowness of its rude roof, resembled a

letter XXVIII

A KURDISH CHIEF

265

cave rather than a house. Yet Hesso receives £200 a
year from the Persian Government, and has apparently
unlimited opportunities for plunder.

There were some coarse mats on the floor, and a
samovar with some Russian glass tea-cups. Two Persian
officials and a number of well-armed and splendidly-
dressed Kurds, with jewelled khanjars and revolvers in
their girdles and rifles by their sides, sat or reclined
against the wall. Hesso himself leaned against a roll of
bedding at the upper end of the room, and space was
made for us on the floor at his left hand. A superb
stage brigand he looked, in fitting surroundings, the
handsomest man I have seen in Persia, a large man,
with a large face, dark prominent eyes, a broad brow, a
straight nose, superb teeth, a fine but sensual mouth, a
dark olive complexion, and a false smile. A jewelled
Kurdish turban with much crimson, a short jacket and
full trousers of a fine cream-coloured woollen fabric, an
embroidered silk shirt, socks of an elaborate pattern, a
girdle of many yards of Kashmir stuff, with eight knots,
one above another, in the middle, and a khclat or coat of
honour of rich Kerman brocade formed his striking
costume. In his girdle he wore a Jchanjar , with an ebony
hilt and scabbard ornamented with filigree gold knobs
incrusted with turquoises, attached to the girdle by a
silver chain two yards long, of heavy filigree balls, a
beautiful piece of work. Hesso’s brothers, superb men,
most picturesquely dressed, surrounded him. The Kurds
who handed round the tea and the jewelled kalians looked
fantastic brigands. The scene was a picture.

Of course my errand failed. I could not speak about
the sheep through the priest of the robbed village, and
Hesso said that he could not speak on any “ political ”
subject before the Persians who were present. The
conversation was not animated, and Qasha Bardah was

266

JOUENEYS IN KUEDISTAN letter xxvm

very nervous till Hesso turned round, and with an
awakened expression of face asked how it was that
“ England had allowed Turkey to grow so feeble that her
frontier and Armenia are in a state of anarchy ” ? Hesso's
handsome face is that of a villain. He does not look
more than thirty. He has 200 well-mounted marksmen
at his disposal. The father of this redoubtable Kurdish
chief died in prison, where he was confined by order of the
Shah, and the son revenged himself by harrying this part
of the Shah's dominions, and with sixty men, including his
six brothers, successfully resisted a large Persian force
sent against him, and eventually escaped into Turkey,
doing much damage on his way. Hesso on arriving in
Kerbela obtained a letter from the Sheikh, or chief Mollah
there, saying that he offered his submission to the Shah,
and went to Tihran, where after seeing the Shah's
splendour he said that if he had known it before, he
would not have been in rebellion.

Before this the Persians took a strong castle from the
Kurds, and garrisoned it with an officer and a company
of soldiers. Up to it one day went Hesso boldly, keeping
the six men who went with him out of sight, and
thumped upon the gate till it was opened, saying he was
a bearer of despatches. He first shot the sentry dead,
and next the officer, who came to see what the disturb¬
ance was about. Meantime the six men, by climbing on
each other’s shoulders, scaled the castle wall, and by con¬
fused shouts and dragging of the stone roller to and fro
over the roof they made the garrison believe that it was
attacked by a large force, and it surrendered at discretion.
The lives of the soldiers were spared, but they were marched
out in their shirts, with their hands above their heads.

The Merwana threshing-floor was guarded at night
by ten men. The following morning we were to have
started an hour before daylight, but the katirgis refused

LETTER XXVIII

STERN REALITIES

267

to load, and the Kurdish ketchuda, with his horsemen,
declined to start till an hour after sunrise, because he
could not earlier “tell friends from foes.” The ground
was covered with hoar-frost, and the feathery foliage of
the tamarisk was like the finest white coral.

Turning into the mountains, we spent nine hours
in a grand defile, much wooded, where a difficult
path is shut in with the Marbishu torrent. The Kurds
left us at Bani, when two fine fellows became our pro¬
tectors as far as a small stream, crossing which we
entered Turkey. At a Kurdish semi-subterranean village,
over which one might ride without knowing it, a splen¬
didly-dressed young Khan emerged from one of the
burrows, and said he would give us guards, but they
would not go farther than a certain village, where two
of his men had been killed three days before. “ There
is blood between us and them,” he said. After that, for
five hours up to Marbishu, the scenery is glorious. The
valley narrows into a picturesque gorge between precipi¬
tous mount ains , from 2000 to 4000 feet above the river,
on the sides of which a narrow and occasionally scaffolded
path is carried, not always passable for laden mules.
Many grand ravines came down upon this gorge, their
dwarf trees, orange, tawny, and canary-yellow, mingled
with rose-red leafage. The rose bushes are covered with
masses of large carnation-red hips, the bramble trailers
are crimson and gold, the tamarisk is lemon - yellow.
Nature, like the dolphin, is most beautiful in dying.

The depths were filled with a blue gloom, the needle¬
like peaks which tower above glittered with new-fallen
snow, the air was fresh and intoxicating—it was the
romance of travel. But it soon became apparent that
we were among stern and even perilous realities. A
notorious robber chief was disposed to bar our passage.
His men had just robbed a party of travellers, and were

268

JOUENEYS IN KUBDISTAN letter xxviii

spread over the hilL They took a horse from Johannes,
but afterwards restored it on certain conditions. Farther
on we met a number of Kurds, with thirty fat sheep and
some cattle, which they were driving off from Marbishu.
Then the katirgis said that they would go no farther than
the village, for they heard that robbers were lying in wait
for us farther on!

In the wildest part of the gorge, where two ravines
meet, there is fine stoneless soil, tilled like a garden; the
mountains fall a little apart—there are walnuts, fruit
trees, and poplars ; again the valley narrows, the path just
hangs on the hillside, and I was riding over the roofs
of village houses for some time before I knew it. The
hills again opened, and there were flourishing breadths
of turnips, and people digging potatoes, an article of food
and export which was introduced by the missionaries
forty years ago. The glen narrowed again, and we came
upon the principal part of Marbishu—rude stone houses
in tiers, burrowing deeply into the hills, with rock above
and rock below on the precipitous sides of a noisy torrent,
crossed by two picturesque log bridges, one of the wildest
situations I have ever seen, and with a wintry chill about
it, for the sun at this season deserts it at three. Eude,
primitive, colourless, its dwellings like the poorest cow¬
sheds, its church like a Canadian ice-house, clinging to
mountain sides and spires of rock, so long as I re¬
member anything I shall remember Marbishu.

Steep narrow paths and steep rude steps brought us
to a three-sided yard, with a rough verandah where cook¬
ing and other operations were going on, and at the
entrance we were cordially welcomed by Qasha Ishai,
the priest. After ascertaining that it would be very
dangerous to go farther, I crossed the river to the church,
which is one of the finest in the country, and a place of
pilgrimage. The village is noted for its religious faith-

letter xxvm THE CHUECH OF MABBISHU

269

fulness. The church is said to he 850 years old—a
low, flat-roofed, windowless stone building. Either it
was always partially subterranean, or the earth has
accumulated round it, for the floor is three feet below
the ground outside. The entrance is by a heavy door
two feet six inches high. Inside it is as nearly dark as
possible. Two or three circular holes at a great height
in the enormously thick wall let in as many glimmers,
but artificial light is necessary. There are several small
ante-chapels. In two are rude and ancient tombs of
ancient bishops, plain blocks of stone, with crosses upon
them. In another is a rough desk, covered with candle
droppings, on which the Liturgy of the Apostles lay
open, and on it a cross, which it is the custom to kiss.
A fourth is used for the safe keeping of agricultural im¬
plements. Two are empty, and one of these serves the
useful purpose of a mortuary chapel. The church proper
is very small and high. The stone floor has been worn into
cavities by the feet of worshippers the walls, where not
covered with lengths of grimy printed cotton, are black
with the candle smoke of ages. The one sign of sacred
use is a rude stone screen at the east end, at openings
in the front of which the people receive the Eucharist.
Behind this is the sanctuary, into which the priest alone,
and he fasting, may enter. Old brass lamps and cande¬
labra, incrusted with blackened tallow, hang from the
roof, and strings of little bells from wall to wall, which
are plucked by each recipient of the sacred elements as
he returns to his “ stand/’

In this gloomy vault-like building prayers are said, as
in all Nestorian churches, at sunrise and sunset by the
priest in his ordinary clothing, the villagers being sum¬
moned by the beating of a mallet on a board. 1

1 Dr. Cutts, in his interesting volume, Christians Under the Crescent in
Asia , gives the following translation of one of the morning praises, which

270

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxvin

The church is a place of refuge when a Kurdish attack
is expected. Nine years ago the people carried into it
all their movables that they valued most, believing it to
be secure, but the Kurds broke in in force and took all
they wanted. The few sacred treasures of the village and
the Eucharistic leaven are hidden in an elevated recess in
the wall The graveyard, which contains only a few flat
slabs imbedded in the soil, is the only possible camping-
ground ; but though it is clean and neat, it looked so
damp and felt so cold that I preferred to accept a big
room with walls six feet thick in the priest’s house, even
though it overhangs the torrent with its thunder and clash

forms part of the daily prayer. The earlier portion is chanted antiphon-
ally in semi-choirs—

‘ 4 Semi-choir —ls£. At the dawn of day we praise Thee, 0 Lord: Thon art
the Redeemer of all creatures, give us by Thy mercy a peaceful day, and
give us remission of our sins.

“2 d. Gut not off our hope, shut not Thy door against our faces, and
cease not Thy care over us. 0 God, according to our worthiness reward us
not Thou alone knowest our weakness.

{ ‘ 1st Scatter, 0 Lord, in the world love, peace, and unity. Raise up
righteous kings, priests, and judges. Give peace to the nations, heal the
sick, keep the whole, and forgive the sins of all men.

11 2d. In the way that we are going may Thy Grace keep us, 0 Lord, as
it kept the child David from Saul. Give us Thy mercy as we are press in g
on, that we may attain to peace according to Thy will. The Grace which
kept the prophet Moses in the sea, and Daniel in the pit, and by which
the companions of Ananias were kept in the fire, by that Grace deliver us
from evil.

“ Whole choir.— In the morning we all arise, we all worship the Father,
we praise the Son, we acknowledge the Holy Spirit. The grace of the
Father, the mercy of the Son, and the hovering of the Holy Spirit, the
Third Person, be our help every day. Our help is in Thee. In Thee, our
true Physician, is our hope. Put the medicine of Thy mercy on our wounds,
and bind up our bruises that we be not lost. Without Thy help we are
powerless to keep Thy commandments. 0 Christ, who helpest those
who fulfil Thy will, keep Thy worshippers. We ask with sighing, we
beseech Thy mercy, we ask forgiveness from that merciful One who opens
His door to all who turn unto Him. Every day I promise Thee that to¬
morrow I will repent: all my days are past and gone, my faults still re¬
main. 0 Christ, have mercy upon me, have mercy upon me. ”

letter xxviii QASHA ISHAI’S DWELLING

271

Many a strange house I have seen, hut never any¬
thing so str ikin g as the dwelling of Qasha Ishai. Passing
through the rude verandah, and through a lofty room
nearly dark, with a rough stone dais, on which were
some mattresses, and berths one above another, I stumbled
in total darkness into a room seventy feet by forty, and
twenty feet or more high in its highest part. It has no
particular shape, and wanders away from this lofty centre
into low irregular caverns and recesses excavated in the
mountain side. Parts of the floor are of naked rock,
parts of damp earth. In one rocky recess is a powerful
spring of pure water. The roofs are supported on barked
stems of trees, black, like the walls, wherever it was
possible to see them, with the smoke of two centuries.
Ancient oil lamps on posts or in recesses rendered dark¬
ness visible. Goat-skins, with the legs sticking out,
containing butter, hanging from the blackened cross¬
beams, and wheat, apples, potatoes, and onions in heaps
and sacks, piles of wool, spinning-wheels, great wooden
cradles here and there, huge oil and water jars, wooden
stools, piles of bedding, ploughs, threshing instruments,
long guns, swords, spears, and gear encumbered the floor,
while much more was stowed away in the dim caverns
of the rock.

I asked the number of families under the roof. “ Seven
ovens,” was the reply. This meant seven families, and
it is true that three generations, seventy-two persons,
live, cook, sleep, and pursue their avocations under that
patriarchal roof.

The road is a bad one for laden beasts, and very dangerous
besides, and the few travellers who visit Kochanes usually
take the caravan route from Urmi vid Diza, and the fact
of an English person passing through Marbishu with a
letter to the Turkish authorities was soon “ noised abroad,”
and I was invited to spend the evening in this most

272

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxviii

picturesque house. All the inmates were there, and over
a hundred of the villagers besides; and cooking, baking,
spinning, carding wool, knitting, and cleaning swords and
guns went on all the time. There were women and girls
in bright red dresses; men reclining on bedding already
unrolled on the uneven floor, or standing in knots in
their picturesque dresses leaning on their long guns,
with daggers gleaming in their belts ; groups seated round
the great fire, in the uncertain light of which faces
gleamed here and there in the dim recesses, while the
towering form of Qccsha Ishai loomed grandly through
the smoke, as the culmination of the artistic effect.

The subject discussed was equally interesting to the
Syrians and to me,—the dangers of the pass and the
number of guards necessary. We talked late into the
night, and long before I left the female and juvenile part
of the family had retired to their beds. Again I heard of
Hesso’s misdeeds, of the robbery of 1400 sheep; of the
driving off on the previous morning of thirty sheep
which they were about to barter for their winter supply
of wheat; of the oppressive taxation, 100 liras (nearly
£100) on 100 houses; of the unchecked depredations of
the Kurds, which had increased this summer and autumn,
leaving them too poor to pay their taxes ; of a life of
peril and fear and apprehension for their women, which
is scarcely bearable; of the oppression of man and the
silence of God. Underlying all is a feeling of bitter
disappointment that England, which “has helped the
oppressed elsewhere, does nothing for us ” They thought,
they said, “ that when the English priests came it was the
beginning of succour, and that the Lord was no longer
deaf, and our faces were lightened, but now it is all dark,
and there is no help in God or man.”

I now find myself in the midst of a state of things of
which I was completely ignorant, and for which I was

LETTER XXVIII

CHRISTIAN UNION

273

utterly unprepared, and in a region full of fear and
danger, in which our co-religionists are the nearly help¬
less prey of fanatical mountaineers, whose profession is
robbery.

Looking round on the handsome men and comely
women, who would greet the sunrise with Christian
prayer and praise, and whose ancestors have worshipped

A SYRIAN FAMILY.

Christ as God for fourteen centuries in these mountain
fastnesses, I wondered much at my former apathy
concerning them. It is easier to fed them our fellow-
Christians on the spot than to put the feeling into words,
but writing here in the house of their Patriarch, the
Catholicos of the East, I realise that the Cross signed on
their brows in baptism is to them as to us the symbol
of triumph and of hope; that by them as by us the
Eucharistic emblems are received for the life of the
soul, “ in remembrance of Christ’s meritorious Cross and
vol. n T

274

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxviii

Passion ”; that through ages of accumulating wrongs and
almost unr ivalled misery, they like us have worshipped
the crucified Nazarene as the crowned and risen Christ,
that to TTim with us they bend the adoring knee, and
that like us they lay their dead in consecrated ground to
await through Him a joyful resurrection.

There were five degrees of frost during the night, and
as I lay awake from cold the narratives I had heard
and the extraordinary state of things in which I so un¬
expectedly found myself made a very deep impression on
me. There, for the first time in my life, I came into
contact with people 1 grossly ignorant truly, but willing to
suffer “ the loss of all things,” and to live in “ jeopardy
every hour” for religious beliefs, which are not other¬
wise specially influential in their lives. My own circum¬
stances, too, claimed some consideration, whether to go
forward, or back to Urmi. It is obvious from what I
hear that the bringing my journey to Erzerum to a
successful issue will depend almost altogether on my own
nerve, judgment, and power of arranging, and that at
best there will be serious risks, hardships, and difficulties,
which will increase as winter sets in. After nearly
coming to the cowardly decision to return, I despised
myself for the weakness, and having decided that some
good to these people might come from farther acquaint¬
ance with their circumstances, I fell asleep, and now
the die is cast.

We were ready at daybreak the next morning, but for
tha-^ame reasons as those given at Merwana did not start
till seYen for an eleven hours’ march. I tfl ok tg ajaffted
horsemeA-ftgd six armed footmen, ^ajl/fine fellows usSd~
to the work of. _ reconnoitring,protecting. Three of
them scouted th'e’vrh-aLejtime high up on the sides of the
pass, not with the purposeless sensational scouting of
Persian sowars, but with the earnestness of men who

LETTER XXVIII

THE PLAIN OF GAWAR

275

were pledged to take us safely through, and who live
under arms to protect their property and fami lies

After five hours of toiling up the Drinayi Pass, taking
several deep fords, and being detained by a baggage
horse falling fifty feet with his load, we crossed the
summit, and by a long descent through hills of rounded
outlines covered with uncut sun-cured hay, reached the
plain of Gawar, where the guards left us. On the way we
passed the small Christian hamlet of Eyal, which was
robbed of its sheep with the sacrifice of the shepherd’s
life the following night. At thq village of Yekmala on the
plain the Kurdish katirgis by a shameful exaction got
us into great trouble, and there was a fight, in which
Johannes’s gun was wrested from him, and some of my
things were taken, the Kurds meantime driving off their
animals at a fast trot. The aspect of affairs was so very
bad and the attack on my men so violent that I paid the
value of the Kurdish depredations, and we got away. A
little farther on the katirgis were extremely outrageous,
and began to fulfil their threat of “ throwing down their

loads,” but I persuaded QcisJia -, who was alarmed and

anxious, to leave them behind, and they thought better
of it.

The mountain-girdled plain of Gawar is a Paradise
of fertility, with abundant water, and has a rich black
soil capable of yielding twenty or thirtyfold to the culti¬
vator. On it is the town of Diza, chiefly Armenian,
which is a Turkish customs station, a military post, and
the residence of a Kaimakam. There are over twenty
Christian as well as some Moslem villages on Gawar,
and a number of Kurdish hamiets and “ castles ” on the
slopes and in the folds of the hills above it.

The sun was sinking as we embarked on the plain,
and above the waves of sunset gold which flooded it rose
the icy spires and crags of the glorious Jelu ranges and

276

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxviii

the splintered Kanisairani summits. The plain has an
altitude of over 6000 feet, and there was a sharp frost as
we dismounted at the village of Pirzala and put up at
the house of the Maleic David, having been eleven and a
half hours in the saddle. After consulting with him and
other village worthies I dismissed the Jcatirgis and paid
them more than their contract price. The next morning
they swore by the Prophet’s beard, and every other
sacred thing, that they had not been paid, and when pay¬
ment was proved by two respectable witnesses, they were
not the least abashed. Poor fellows! They know no
better and are doubtless very poor. I was glad to get
rid of their sinister faces and outbreaks of violence, but
for some days it was impossible, being harvest-time, to
obtain transport to Kochanes, though I was able to leave
Pirzala for other villages.

The next day mists rolled down the mountains, and a
good cold English rain set in, in which I had a most
pleasant ride to Diza, which was repeated the following
day in glorious weather, the new-fallen snow coming half¬
way down the mountain sides. I was surreptitiously on
Turkish soil, and it was necessary to show my passport
to the Diza officials, get a permit to travel, and have my
baggage examined. Ishu, the present Maleic of the plain,
through whom all business between the Christians and
the Government is transacted, accompanied us to the
Mutessarif of Julamerik.

Diza is an unwalled town on an eminence crowned
by barracks. The garrison of 200 men was reduced to
six during the summer. The Kurds evidently took the
reduction as a hint to them to do what they liked, and they
have mercilessly ravaged and harried the plain for months
past. 1 An official assured me that 15,000 sheep have

1 About Christmas 1890 in Constantinople I had an opportunity of
layiDg the state of the Gawar Christians and the reduction of the garrison

LETTER XXVIII

VISITS TO OFFICIALS

277

been. driven off from the Gawar Christian villages between
the middle of June and the 17th of October, partly by
the nomad Herkis. There are now sixty soldiers at
Diza, and the Mutessarif of Julamerik is there, having
come down to capture Abdurrahman Bey, one of the
great oppressors of the Christians,—an attempt rendered
abortive (it is said) by a bribe given by the Bey to the
commanding officer of the troops.

I was interested in my first visit to a Turkish official.
His room was above a stable, with a dark and difficult
access, and the passages above were crowded with soldiers.
The Mutessarif sat on a divan at the upper end of a
shabby room, an elderly man much like Mr. Gladstone,
very courteous and gentlemanly, with plenty of conversa¬
tion and savoir-faire. He said that the letter I carry is
“ a very powerful document,” that it supersedes all the
usual formalities, that my baggage would not even be
looked at, and that I should not require a teskareh or
permit. By his advice I called on the Kaimakam, and
in each room a soldier brought in delicious coffee. The
Kaimakam was also very courteous, and talked agreeably
and intelligently, both taking the initiative, as etiquette
demands.

In this and in the general tone there was a marked
difference between Persian and Turkish officialdom. The
Persian Governor is surrounded by civilians, the Turkish
by soldiers, and in the latter case the manner assumed
by subordinates is one of the most profound respect.

of Diza "before His Highness Kiamil Pasha, then Grand Vizier. He
appeared deeply interested, and said that it was the purpose of his Govern¬
ment to send troops up to the region as soon as the roads were open.
Since then I have heard nothing of these people, hut to-day, as this sheet
is going to press, I have received the following news from Dr. Shedd
of Urmi: “ You will be glad to know that Gawar is very much changed
for the better. The Turkish Governor has been removed, and another of far
better character and ability has the post. The Kurdish robbers have been
arrested, and their leader, Abdurrahman Bey, killed .”—November 2^ 1890.

278

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxviii

The sealing of my passport took a considerable time,

during which, with Qasha -, I paid several visits, was

regaled with Armenian cookery, tried to change a mejidieh
at the Treasury, but found it absolutely empty, and went
to see a miracle-working New Testament, said to be of
great antiquity, in an Armenian house. It was hanging
on the wall in a leather bag, from which depended strings
of blue and onyx beads. Sick people come to it even
from great distances, as well as the friends of those who
are themselves too ill to travel. The bag can only be
opened by a priest. The power of healing depends on a
sum of money being paid to the priest and the owners.
The sick person receives a glass bead, and is forthwith
cured.

On Gawar Plain I lodged in the village houses, either
in semi-subterranean hovels, in which the families live with
their horses and buffaloes, or in rooms over stables. Yery
many sick people came to me for medicines, and others
with tales of wrong for conveyance to “ the Consul ” at
Erzerum. No one seemed to trust any one. These con¬
versations were always held at night in whispers, with
the candle hidden “ under a bushel,’ 7 the light-holes filled
up with straw, the door barred or a heavy stone laid
against it, and a watch outside.

The Gawar Christians are industrious and inoffensive,
and have no higher aspiration than to be let alone, but
they are the victims of a Kurdish rapacity which leaves
them little more than necessary food. ' Their villages
usually belong to Kurdish Aghas who take from them
double the lawful taxes and tithes. The Herkis sweep
over the plain in their autumn migration “ like a locust
cloud,” carrying off the possessions of the miserable people,
spoiling their granaries and driving off their flocks. The
Kurds of the neighbouring slopes and mountains rob
them by violence at night, and in the day by exactions

letter XXVIII ROBBERY BY “DEMAND

2*79

made under threat of death. The latter mode of robbery
is called “demand.” The servants of a Kurdish Bey
enter and ask for some jars of oil or roghan, a Kashmir
shawl, women’s ornaments, a jewelled dagger, or a good
foal, under certain threats, or they show the owner a
bullet in the palm of the hand, intimating that a bullet
through his head will be his fate if he refuses to give up
his property or informs any one of the demand.

In this way (among innumerable other instances) my

host at- f a much-respected man, had been robbed of

five valuable shawls, such as descend from mother to
daughter, four handsome coats, and 300 krans in silver.
In the last two years ten and fifteen loads of wheat have
been taken from him, and four four-feet jars filled with
oil and roghan. Four hundred and fifty sheep have like¬
wise been seized by violence, leaving him with only fifteen ;
and one night while I was at his house fifty-three of the
remaining village sheep, some of which were his, were

1 The complaints to which I became a listener were made by maleks ,
bishops, priests, headmen, and others. Exaggerations prevail, and the
same story is often told with as many variations as there are narrators.
I cannot vouch for anything which did not come under my own observa¬
tion. Some narratives dissolved under investigation, leaving a mere
nucleus of fact. Those which I thought worthy of being noted down
—some of which were published in the Contemporary Review in May and
June in two papers called The Shadow of the Kurd —were either fortified
by corroborative circumstances, or rest on the concurrent testimony as to
the main facts of three independent narrators.

In some cases I was asked to lay the statements before the British Consul
at Erzerum, with the names of the narrators as the authority on which
they rested, but in the greater number I was implored not to give names
or places, or any means of identification. 44 We are in fear of our lives if
we tell the truth,” they urged. Sometimes I asked them if they would
abide by what they told me in the event of an investigation by the British
Vice-Consul at Van. 44 No, no, no, we dare not! ” was the usual reply.
Under these circumstances, the only course open to me is to withhold the
names of persons and places wherever I was pledged to do so, but as a
guarantee of good faith I have placed the statements, confidentially, with
the names, in the hands of Her Majesty’s Principal Secretary of State for
Foreign Affairs.

280

JOUENEYS IN KUEDISTAN letter xxviii

driven off in spite of the guards, who dare not fire . I
was awakened by the disturbance, and as it was a light
night I saw that the Kurds who attacked the sheepfold
were armed with modern guns. The reis of that village
and this man’s brother have both been shot by the
Kurds.

Testimony concurred in stating that the insecurity of
life and property has enormously increased this summer,
especially since the reduction of the Diza garrison; that
“ things have grown very much worse since the Erzerum
troubles; ” that the Kurds have been more audacious in
their demands and more reckless of human life; and that
of late they have threatened the Christians as such , saying
that the Government would approve of “ their getting rid
of them.” Very little of any value, the people said, was
left to them, and the extreme bareness of their dwellings,
and the emptiness of their stables and sheepfolds, while
surrounded with possibilities of pastoral and agricultural
wealth, tend to sustain their statements. “ The men of
Government,” they all said, “ are in partnership with the
Kurds, and receive of their gains. This is our curse.”

Many women and girls, especially at Char viva andVasi-
vawa, have been maltreated by the Kurds. A fortnight

ago a girl, ten years old, going out from-, to carry

bread to the reapers, was abducted. It became known

that two girls in-were to be carried off, and they

were hidden at first in a hole near-. Their hiding-

place last week was known only to their father, who
carried them food and water every second night. He
came to me in the dark secretly, and asked me to bring
them up here, where they might find a temporary asylum.
Daily and nightly during the week of my visit Gawar
was harried by the Kurds, who in two instances burned
what they could not carry away, the glare of the blazing
sheaves lighting up the plain.

letter xxviii A BEQUEST EOB TEACHEBS

281

The people of Gawar express great anxiety for
teachers. The priests and deacons must work like
labourers, and cannot, they say, go down to Urmi for
instruction. A priest, speaking for two others, and for
several deacons who were present, said, cf Beseech for a
teacher to come and sit among us and lighten our dark¬
ness before we pass away as the morning shadows. We
are blind guides, we know nothing, and our people are
as sheep lost upon the mountains. When they go down
into the darkness of their graves we know not how to
give them any light, and so we all perish.”

This request was made in one of the large semi-sub¬
terranean dwellings, which serve for both men and beasts
in Kurdistan. The firelight flickered on horses and
buffaloes, receding into the darkness, and the square
mud-platform on which we sat was framed by the long
horns and curly heads of mild-eyed oxen.

I answered that it would be very difficult to raise
money for such an object in England. “ But England is
very rich,” the priest replied. I looked round, and the
thought passed across my mind of Him “ who though He
was rich yet for our sakes became poor,” whose life of
self-denial from the stable at Bethlehem to the cross on
Calvary is the example for our own, and whose voice,
ringing down through ages of luxury and selfishness, still
declares that discipleship involves a love for our brethren
equal to His own. Yes, “England is very rich,” and
these Syrians are very poor, and have kept the faith
through ages of darkness and persecution.

This plain, the richest in Kurdistan, is also most beau¬
tiful. In winter a frozen morass, it is not dry enough
for sowing till May, and even June. This accounts
for the lateness of the harvest. The Jelu mountains, the
highest in Central Kurdistan,—a mass of crags, spires,
and fantastic parapets of rock, with rifts and abysses of

282 JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxviii

extraordinary depth,—come down almost directly upon
it. There is no wood. The villages are all alike, sur¬
rounded just now by piles of wheat and straw on their
threshing-floors, with truncated cones of fodder, and high
smooth black cones of animal fuel. These are often the
only signs of habitations. One may ride over the roofs
without knowing that houses are below.

Being entirely baffled by the difficulty of obtaining
transport, I went on to Gahgoran, and put up at the
house of the parish priest, where the subterranean granary
allotted to me was so completely dark that I sat all day
in the sheepfold in order to be able to write and work,
shifting my position as the sun shifted his. A zavtieh
had been sent from Diza, who guarded me so sedulously

that Qasha - dared not speak to me, lest the man

should think he was giving me information.

Gahgoran was full of strangers. The Patriarch had
come down from Kochanes, and occupied the only room
in the village, whither I went to pay my respects to
him. The room was nearly dark, and foggy with
tobacco smoke, but a ray of light fell on Mar Gauriel,
Bishop of Urmi, a handsome full-bearded man in a
NTestorian turban, full trousers, a madder-red frock with
a bright girdle in which a khanjar glittered, and a robe
over all, a leader of armed men in appearance. I had
met him in Urmi, and he shook hands and presented me
to Mar Shimun, a swarthy gloomy-looking man. In his
turn he presented me to Mar Sergis, Bishop of Jelu, a
magnificent-looking man with a superb gray beard, the
beau-ideal of an Oriental ecclesiastic. Maleks and head¬
men of villages sat round the room against the wall, not
met for any spiritual conclave but for stern business
regarding the taxes, for the Patriarch is a salaried official
of the Turkish Government. All rose when I entered,
and according to a polite custom stood till I sat down.

LETTER XXVIII

A NIGHT ALARM

283

They held out no hope of getting baggage animals, and I
returned to the sheepfold.

It was a long day. The servants did not arrive till
night, and Kochanes receded hourly ! Many people came
for medicine, and among them a very handsome man
whose house was entered by Kurds a month ago, who
threatened him with death unless he surrendered his
possessions. After this he and his brothers fled and hid
among the wheat, but fearing to be found and killed, they
concealed themselves for a fortnight in the tall reeds of
a marsh. He is now subject to violent fits of trembling.
“ My illness is fear/’ the poor fellow said. Three hundred
sheep had been taken from him and twenty-five gold liras ;
his grass had been burned, “and now,” he said, “the
oppressor Hazela Bey says, f give me the deeds of your
lands, if not I will kill you.’ ” He had been a Maleic ,
and was so rich that he entertained travellers and their
horses at all times. Now his friends have to give him
wheat wherewith to make bread.

The house of Qasha Jammo has granaries at each side
of the low door, a long dark passage leading into a
subterranean stable With a platform for guests, and a
living-room, on a small scale, like the one at Marbishu.
A space was cleared in the granary for my bed among
wheat, straw, ploughs, beetles, starved cats, osier grain-
tubs coated with clay, six feet high, and agricultural gear
of all sorts. It was a horrid place, and the door would
not bolt. After midnight I was awakened by a sound as
if big rats were gnawing the beams. I got up and
groping my way to the door heard it more loudly, went
into the passage, looked through the chinks in the outer
door, and saw a number of Kurds armed with guns. I
retreated and fired my revolver in the granary, which
roused the dogs, and the dogs roused the twenty strangers
who were receiving the priest’s hospitality. In the stable

284

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxviii

were fourteen horses, including my own two, and several
buffaloes. The Kurds had dug through the roof of the
granary opposite mine, and through its wall into the
stable, and were on the point of driving out the horses
through the common passage when the hardy mountaineers
rushed upon them. The same night, though it was light
and clear, another house in Gahgoran was dug into, and
a valuable horse belonging to a man in the Patriarch’s
train was abstracted. A descent was also made on the
neighbouring village of Yasivawa, which has suffered
severely. Eight zaptiehs employed by the villagers at a
high price to watch the threshing-floor, and my own
zaptieh escort, were close at hand.

Horses having at last been obtained from a Kurdish Bey,
I left on Tuesday, the Gahgoran people being stupefied
with dismay at the growing audacity of the Kurds. The
mountain road was very dangerous, but I travelled with
Mar Gauriel and his train, thirteen well armed and
mounted men, besides armed servants on foot. The ice
was half an inch thick, but the sun was very hot. The
mountain views were superb, and the scenery altogether
glorious, but the passes and hillsides are not inhabited.
We were ten hours on the journey, owing to the custom
of frequent halts for smoking and talking.

In the afternoon a party of Syrians with some unladen
baggage mules came over the crest of a hill, preceded by
a figure certainly not Syrian. This was a fair-com-
plexioned, bearded man, with hair falling over his
shoulders, dressed in a girdled cassock which had once
been black, tucked up so as to reveal some curious nether
garments, Syrian socks, and a pair of rope and worsted
shoes, such as the mountaineers wear in scaling heights.
On his head, where one would have expected to see a
college “ trencher,” was a high conical cap of white felt
with a pagri of black silk twisted into a rope, the true

letter xxviii

AN ANGLICAN PRIEST

285

Tyari turban. This was Mr. Browne, one of the English
Mission clergy, who, from living for nearly four years
among the Syrians of the mountains, helping them and
loving them, has almost become one of them. He was
going to Diza to get winter supplies before his departure
for one of the most inaccessible of the mountain valleys, but
with considerate kindness turned back to Kochanes with
me, and r emains here until I leave. This fortunate ren¬
contre adds the finishing touch to the interest of this
most fascinating Kurdistan journey.

Crossing the Kandal Pass, we descended on the ham¬
let of Shawutha, superbly situated on a steep declivity
at the head of a tremendous ravine leading to the Zab,
blocked apparently by mountains violet-purple against
a cr ims on sky, with an isolated precipitous rock in the
foreground, crowned by an ancient church difficult of
access. Below the village are fair shelving lawns, with
groups of great walnut trees, hawthorn, and ash, yellow,
tawny, and crimson—a scene of perfect beauty in the
sunset, while the fallen leaves touched the soft green turf
with ruddy gold. The camping-grounds were very fair,
but the villagers dared not let me camp. The Kurds
were about, and had exacted a ewe and lamb from
every house. Owing to the influx of strangers, it was
difficult to get any shelter, and I slept in a horse and ox
stable, burrowed in the hillside, the passage to the family
living-room, without any air holes, hot and stifling, and
used my woollen sheets for curtains. The village is
grievously smitten by the “ cattle plague.” In telling me
of the loss of “ four bulls ” within three days, my host
used an expression which is not uncommon here, “ By the
wealth of God, and the head of Mar Shimun.”

Yesterday we descended 1500 feet, alongside of a
torrent fringed with scarlet woods, and halted where the
Shawutha, Kochanes, and Diz valleys meet at the fords

286

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxviii

of the Zab, here known as “ the Pison, the river of Eden.”
The Zab, only fordable at certain seasons, is there a fast-
flowing dark green river, fully sixty yards wide, deep
enough to take the footmen up to their waists, and strong
enough to make them stagger, with a lawn bright with
autumnal foliage below the savage and lofty mountains
on its right bank.

From the Zab we ascended the gorge of the Kochanes
water by a wild mountain path, at times cut into steps
or scaffolded, and at other times merely a glistening track
over shelving rock, terminating in a steep and difficult
ascent to the fair green alp on which Kochanes stands at
the feet of three imposing peaks of naked rock—Quhai-
balak, Qwarah, and Barckallah.

Thus I beheld at last the goal of my journey from
Luristan, and was not disappointed. Glorious indeed is
this Kurdistan world of mountains, piled up in masses of
peaks and precipices, cleft by ravines in which the Ashirets
and Yezidis find shelter, every peak snow-crested, every
ravine flaming with autumn tints; and here, where the
ridges are the sharpest, and the rock spires are the most
imposing, on a spur between the full-watered torrents of
the Terpai and the Yezidi, surrounded on three sides
by gorges and precipices, is this little mountain village,
the latest refuge of the Head of a Church once the most
powerful in the East.

Kochanes consists of a church built on the verge of a
precipice, many tombs, a grove of poplars, a sloping lawn,
scattered village houses and barley-fields extending up
the alp, and nearly on the edge of a precipitous cliff the
Patriarch’s residence, a plain low collection of stone
buildings, having an arched entrance and a tower for
refuge or defence. The houses of his numerous relations
are grouped near it. Everything is singularly picturesque.
The people, being afraid of an attack from the Kurds,

letter XXVIII KOCHANES HOSPITALITY 287

would not suffer me to pitch my tent on their fair
meadow, and Sulti, the Patriarch’s sister, has installed me
in a good room in the house, looking across the tremen¬
dous ravine of the Terpai upon savage mountains, the lower
skirts of which are clothed with the tawny foliage of the
scrub oak, and their upper heights with snow.

I. L. B.

288

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN

LETTER XXIX

LETTER XXIX

Kochanes, Oct 27.

After two days the Patriarch arrived from Gahgorap/
with nearly forty persons. To realise what this hou(
is like, one must go back four centuries, to the mode of
living of the medieval barons of England. Mar Shimun
is not only a spiritual prince, but the temporal ruler of
the Syrians of the plains and valleys, and of the Ashirets
or tribal Syrians of the mountains of Central Kurdistan,
as well as a judge and a salaried official of the Turkish
Government. He appoints the maleJcs or lay rulers of
each district, where the office is not hereditary, and
possesses ecclesiastical patronage. For over four cen¬
turies the Patriarch has been of the family of Shimun,
which is regarded as the royal family; and he is assisted
in managing affairs by a “ family council” Kochanes is
thus the ecclesiastical and political metropolis of the
Syrian nation, and the innumerable disputes which arise
among the people of this region are brought here for
judgment and arbitration.

It is a crowded life. From sunrise to sunset the
pavement outside the rude hall of entrance, the great
room, like that at Marbishu, where Sulti presides, and
the guest-chambers, are always thronged with men wait¬
ing to be received by the Patriarch, sleeping on the
big settle in the hall, or cleaning swords and guns, or
wrestling, performing feats of horsemanship, playing chess,

LETTER XXIX

MAE SHIMUN’S POSITION

289

and eating. Sixty persons more or less are guests here.
Every one coming into the valley is received, and horses
are stabled while men are fed. Outside, sheep and
iMris are being continually killed, two or three sheep
beingTtequired daily; mules are departing for Diza for
stores, or".are returning with flour and sugar; oxen are
bringing in hay, and perpetual measuring and weighing
are going on. 'The cost of provisioning such an army of
guests is enormous, and presses heavily on the Patriarch’s
slender resources. Intrigues are rife. In some ways
very man’s hand is against his fellow, and the succes-
on to the Patriarchate, although nominally settled, is
a subject of scheming, plotting, rivalries, and jealousies.
.Then there are various appointments, secular and spiritual,
to be wrangled for, the difficult relations with Turkey to
be managed, and such a wavering policy to be shaped
towards Eome and American Presbyterianism as shall
absolutely break \vith neither.

Among the guests who come and go as they please,
unquestioned, are refugees from the barbarities of the

Kurds, among the most pitiable of whom is Mar-,

Bishop of -, bereft under threat of death of his

Episcopal seal, and a fugitive from his diocese, which
is almost destroyed by violence and exactions. Few
hours pass in. which some fresh tale of bloodshed, or
the driving off of flocks, or the attacking of travellers,
or the digging into houses, is not brought up here. A
piteous state of alarm prevails. Mar Shimun, naturally
feeble and irresolute, and his family council are helpless.
His dual position aggravates his perplexities. Counsels
are divided and paralysed. NTo one knows where to turn
for help on earth, and “ the Lord is deaf,” some of the
people say.

On entering the house by an archway, where the
heavily-bossed door stands always open, a busy scene is

VOL. II u

290

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

to be witnessed in the hall, which is roughly paved
with irregular slabs of stone. On the rude stone settle
men are sitting or sleeping, or a carpenter is using
it as his bench, or a sheep is being cut up on it. At
the end of a passage is the “ house,” a high, big,
blackened room, with shelving floors of earth and rock,
ovens in the floors, great quaraghs holding grain, piles
of wood, men sawing logs, huge pots, goat-skins of
butter hanging from the rafters, spinning - wheels, a
loom, great roughly-cut joints of meat, piles of potatoes,
women ceaselessly making blankets of bread, to be used
as tablecloths before being eaten, preparations for the
ceaseless meals involved by the unbounded hospitality
of the house, and numbers of daggered serving-men, old.
women, and hangers-on. This room is only lighted from
the doors and from a hole in the roof. Nearly opposite is
a low dark lobby, from which open my room, sixteen feet
square, with walls three feet thick, and Mar Shimun’s
room, about the same size, which serves him for sleeping,
eating, reception-room, and office.

On the same side of the hall are two guest-rooms,
now packed to their utmost capacity, and a large room
in which Ishai, the Patriarchs half-brother, a young man
of exceeding beauty, lives, with his lovely wife, Asiat, and
their four children. In a ruinous-looking tower attached
to the main building Mr. Browne has his abode, up a
steep ladder. Below there are houses inhabited by the
Patriarch’s relations, one of whom, Marta, is a dignified
and charming woman, and the mother of Mar Auraham,
the Patriarch-designate, whose prospective dignity is the
subject of much intrigue.

The presiding genius of the Patriarch’s household is
his sister Sulti, a capable woman of forty, who has re¬
mained unmarried in order to guide his house, and who
rules as well as guides. When she sleeps I know not.

LETTER XXIX

SHLIMON, THE JESTER

291

She is astir early and' late, measuring, weighing, direct¬
ing, the embodiment of Proverbs chap. xxxi. No little
brain-power must be required for the ordering of such a
household and the meeting of such emergencies as that
of to-day, when twenty Jelu men arrived unexpectedly.

The serving-men all look like bandits. The medieval
Jester is in existence here, Shlimon, a privileged person,
who may say and do anything, and take all manner of
liberties, and who, by his unlimited buffooneries, helps
the Patriarch and his family through the dulness of the
winter days. He and another faithful fellow, said to be
equally quick with his tongue and his dagger, are Mar
Shimun’s personal servants. At fixed hours the latter
carries food to his lord in tinned copper bowls on a large
round tray, knives and forks not having penetrated to
Kochanes.

The routine of the day is as follows. The Patriarch
rises very early, and says prayers at dawn, after which
those who have the entree are served with pipes and coffee
in his room, and talk ad libitum. Business of all sorts
follows ; a siesta is taken at mid-day, then there is business
again, and unlimited talk with unlimited smoking till five,
when the Patriarch goes to prayers at church, after which
everybody is at liberty to attend his le\6e, and talking
and smoking go on till 9 or 10 p.m. It is a life without
privacy or quiet. The affairs of the mountains, litigation,
tribal feuds, the difficulty of raising the tribute, the
gossip of the village, and just now, above all else, the
excesses of the Kurds, form the staple of conversation, as

I understand from Qasha -, who, as a personal friend,

spends much of the day in the Patriarch's room. In
winter, when Kochanes is snowed up, chess and the pranks
and witticisms of the Jester fill up the time.

The curious little court, the rigid etiquette, the clank
of arms, the. unbounded hospitality, and the political and

292

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

judicial functions exercised by the Patriarch, with the
rude dwelling and furnishings, combine to re-create the
baronial life as it might have been lived in Ptoslin or
Warkworth Castles.

Though I had half-seen Mar Shimun at Gahgoran, I
was only formally presented after his arrival here. It is
proper for a woman to cover her head before him, and
I put on my hat and took off my shoes. His room
is well paved, the plaster is newly coloured, and there is
a glazed window with a magnificent prospect. There
were rugs at one end, on which the Patriarch was seated,
with two chairs at his left hand. He rose to receive me,
and, according to custom, I kissed his hand. He took
my letter of introduction, and put it under a cushion, as
etiquette demanded, and asked me to be seated. On the
floor along the walls were bishops, priests, deacons, Jelu
and Tyari mountaineers, lowlanders from Urmi, and men
of the Shimun family, all most picturesquely dressed and
smoking long wooden pipes. On each subsequent occa¬
sion, when I paid my respects to him, he was similarly
surrounded. Mr. Browne acted as interpreter, but
nothing but very superficial conversation was possible
when there was the risk that anything said might be
twisted into dangerous use. Mar Shimun is a man about
the middle height, with large dark eyes, a sallow com¬
plexion, a grizzled iron-gray beard, and an expression of
profound melancholy, mingled with a most painful look
of perplexity and irresolution. He cannot be over fifty,
but the miseries and intrigues around him make him
appear prematurely old. When I approached the subject
of the anarchy of the country he glared timidly and
fearfully round, and changed the subject, sending me

a message afterwards that Qasha - and Kwaja

Shlimon, a Chaldsean educated in Paris, are in possession
of all that he could tell me, and would speak for him.

LETTER XXIX THE GATHOLIGOS OF THE EAST 293

He and his family are very proud both of ancestry
and position. Within limits his word is law; a letter
from him is better than any Government passport or
escort through the nearly inaccessible fastnesses of the
Ashirets; “ By the Head of Mar Shimun,” and “ By the
House of Mar Shimun ” are common asseverations, but he
and his are exposed constantly to indignities and insults
from minor Turkish officials and from Kurdish chiefs,
and the continual disrespect to his person and office is
said to be eating into his souL

He wears a crimson fez with a black jpagri , a short
blue cloth jacket with sleeves wide at the bottom and
open for a few inches at the inner seam, blue cloth
trousers of a sailor cut, a red and white striped satin shirt,
the front and sleeves of which are very much en evidence,
and a crimson girdle, but without the universal khanjar .

This is the man who is the head at once of a church
and nation, the temporal and spiritual ruler of the Syrian
people, the hereditary Patriarch, the Catholicos of the
East, whose dynastic ancestors ranked as sixth in dignity
in the Catholic Church in its early ages. It was not,
however, till the early part of the fifth century, when the
Church of the East threw in her lot with Nestorius, after
his condemnation in 431 by the Council of Ephesus for
“heretical” views on the nature of our Lord, that the
Catholicos of the East assumed the farther title of
Patriarch. As I look on Mar Shimun’s irresolute face,
and see the homage which his people pay to him, I recall
the history of a day when this church, which only
survives as an obscure and hunted remnant,, planted
churches and bishoprics in Persia, Central Asia, Tartary,
and China; its missionaries, full of zeal and self-sacri¬
fice, brought such legions into its fold that in the sixth
century the ecclesiastical ancestor of this Patriarch,
then resident at Baghdad, ruled over twenty-five metro-

294

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

political provinces extending from Jerusalem to China;
and when in the fourteenth century it was not only the
largest co mmu nion in Christendom, but outnumbered
the whole of the rest of Christendom, east and west,
Koman, Greek, and other churches put together. It is
truly a marvel not only that Baghdad, Edessa, and Nisibis
possessed Nestorian schools of divinity and philosophy,
but that Christian colleges, seminaries, and theological
schools flourished in Samarcand,, Bokhara, and Khiva!
How this huge church melted away like snow, and how
the tide of Christianity ebbed, leaving as a relic on its
high-water mark within the Chinese frontier a stone
tablet inscribed with the Nestorian creed, and how
Taimurlane pursued the unfortunate Christian remnant
with such fury that the Catholicos himself with a fugitive
band was forced to fly into these mountains, are matters
of most singular historic interest. Most fascinating
indeed is it to be here. Each day seems but an hour,
so absorbing are the interests, so deep the pathos, so
vivid the tableaux, so unique the life in this hamlet
of Kochanes, on its fair green alp at a height of 6000
feet, among these wild mountains of Kurdistan, musical
with the sound of torrents fed by fifty snow-drifts, dash¬
ing down to join “ the Bison, the river of Eden ” (as the
Patriarch calls the Zab), on its way to the classic Tigris.

The afternoon I arrived, Sulti, Marta, Asiat, and
several other women courteously visited me, and the next
day I returned their visits in their simple pleasant
houses. These formalities over, I have enjoyed complete
liberty, and have acquainted myself with the whole of
Kochanes, and with many of the people and their interests,
and have had small gatherings of men in my room each

evening, Qasha - or Mr. Browne interpreting their

tales of strife or wrong.

“ Fear is on every side,” the fear of a people practically

LETTER XXIX

AN EPISCOPAL FUGITIVE

295

unarmed, for their long guns, some of them matchlocks,
are of no use against the rifles of the Kurds, nor dare
they fire in self-defence. Travelling is nearly suspended.
A company of people whose needs call them to Urmi
dare not run the risk of the journey till they can go down
with Mar Gauriel and his large escort. It is evident
that the Patriarch and his people hoped for a British
protectorate as one result of “ the Archbishop of Canter¬
bury’s Mission,” and that they are bitterly disappointed
that their condition is growing worse.

“ How can we listen to teaching,” say some of them,
“ when we have no rest ? How can we believe in God
when He lets these things happen to us ? The Almighty
is deaf, and we cease to pray. Can we hear teaching
when the wolf is on us by night and day ? If we let go
the Cross we might be rich and safe. Night by night
we ask, f Shall we see the morning ? ’ for our oppressors
wax fiercer daily.”

Mar-, Bishop of-, mentioned previously as a

fugitive from his diocese, is a fine, pleasant-looking middle-
aged man, more like a sailor than an ecclesiastic. Late one
night, in a whisper, with a trusty watch at the door, he told
his story, through Qasha -, in the following words:

“ I fled, fearing for my life, because many times I had spoken
against the oppressions. The Kurds have carried away most of
the sheep and goats, besides taking all they wished to have, and
they entered through the houses, plundering everything, and burn¬
ing two in-. Their words are ‘give or die.’ I petitioned

Government regarding the oppressions, and Mohammed Bey came,
and by threat of death he got my seal, and wrote in my name a
letter, saying it was all false, there were no oppressions, and he was a
very good man, and he signed it with my seal, and it went to Stam-
boul. My seal has now been for one year in the hands of Moham¬
med Bey, who has killed about thirty Christians in Berwar. Three
months ago I fled to save my life.

296

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

“ Seventeen years the oppressions have begun ; but it was ten
years ago when we could easily keep ourselves and raise our bread—

now we cannot. In -, five years ago, all had plenty of

dress and bread, and every family kept two cows and two hundred
or more of sheep. But now, when I visited them, I would shame
to look at the female persons, so naked were they, and so did they
hide themselves for shame in the dark parts of their houses, for
their dress was all in pieces, so that their flesh was seen. I was
thirsty and asked for milk, and they made reply, 1 Oh, we have not
a cow, or a sheep, or a goat: we forget the taste of milk ! 5 And
most of their fine fields were gone out of their hands by oppressions,
for they could no longer find money wherewith to pay taxes, and
they sold them for a vile price.

“K- was the best village in Sopana, and more wealthy

than any village of Kurds or Christians. There I went and asked
for some milk. They said, ‘Never a goat, or a sheep, or a cow
have we.’ I ask of all the families their condition, and they make
reply, with many tears, * All that we have has left our hands, and
we fear for our lives now. We were rich, now we have not bread

to eat from day to day.’ Seventeen years ago the village of B-

had fifty families of wealthy villagers, but now I only find twelve,
and those twelve could scarcely find bread. I had asked bread,
but I could not find it. By day their things were taken by
force out of their houses: at night their sheep and cattle were
driven off. They could keep nothing. Our wheat, our sheep, our
butter is not our own. The chief, Mohammed Bey, and his servants
ask of us, saying, ‘ Give, or we will kill you.' ”

»

This is a sample of innumerable tales to which I listen
daily. Some are probably grossly exaggerated, others,
and this among them, are probably true in all essential
particulars. Daily, from all quarters, men arrive with
their complaints of robbery and violence, and ask the
Patriarch to obtain redress for them, but he is powerless.

My favourite walk is down the fair green lawn out¬
side the village, on which is a copse of poplars, with
foliage of reddening gold. Beside it, on the verge of the

LETTEB XXIX THE CHURCH OF KOCHANES

297

precipitous heights above the Terpai, is a bold group of
rocks, on which the church dedicated to Mar Shalita is
built. The ruins of a former church, dedicated to Mart
Mariam, are higher up the alp. Below the rocks are a
great number of tombstones, with incised ornaments
upon them bearing the general name of crosses. The
church has nothing speci¬
ally ecclesiastical in its
appearance. It has some
resemblance to a keep with
out-buildings, and its irreg¬
ular form seems to have .
been dictated by the con¬
figuration of the rock. It
has no windows, and the
cruciform slits at a great
height look like loopholes.

It is indeed the ultimate
refuge of the Patriarch
and the villagers in case of a descent of the Kurds.
I walked all round it, through the poplar grove, with
its mirthful waters, among the tombs, and back by
the edge of the ravine to the west side without finding
a door. In truth the only entrance is up a rude and
very steep ladder, about ten feet high, with a rude door
at the top six inches thick, but only three feet high.
How old and infirm people get up and down I cannot tell.
So difficult is the access that I was glad to avail myself
of the vigorous aid of Mar Gauriel, who, having visited
England, is ready on all occasions with courteous atten¬
tions to a lady. The reason of the low doors is said to
be that all may bow their heads on entering the house
of God, and that the Moslems may not stable their cattle
in the church. The entrance harmonises with the obvious
pervading motive of the design, which is inaccessibility.

298

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

The door opens into a small courtyard, partly pro¬
tected by a wooden roof. At its farther end, in a recess
in its massive wall, is a small altar. Its west wall is
pierced so that the approach can be commanded. In
this courtyard the daily prayers are frequently said during
the warm weather. A few steps lead from this into a
building of two stories, a rude little house in fact, once
occupied by one of the Patriarchs, and latterly by the
late Rabban Yonan, a holy man, almost a hermit, whose
reputation for sanctity has extended far beyond the
limits of Kurdistan.

Removing our shoes, we entered the church through a
sort of porch, the lintel of which is ornamented with bas-
reliefs consisting of a cross in knot-work and side orna¬
ments of the same, very rudely executed. The threshold
is elevated, and the lintel of the door only three feet
four inches high, so that the worshipper must bend again
before entering. It was a gloomy transition from the
bright October sunshine to the dark twilight within, and
even with the aid of candles the interior was only dimly
seen. It consists of a nave, about thirty-four feet long,
with a sanctuary, and a sacristy which also serves as the
baptistery, at the east end. The nave is lofty and with¬
out seats. The worshippers stand during divine service,
even the aged and infirm only rest by leaning on their
cross-handled staffs. In the nave, below the screen of
the sanctuary, are three altars. On one, the “ altar of
prayers/ 9 the anthem books are laid; on another, the
“ altar of the Gospels,” is a copy of the Gospels wrapped
in a cloth, on which is a cross, which it is customary to
kiss; on the third there is also a cross. A very thick
wall separates the nave from the eastern chamber, which
in its turn is divided unequally into two parts. This
wall is pierced by a narrow chancel arch, and there is a
narrow platform behind the altars of prayer, etc., ascended

LETTER XXIX

SYRIAN BAPTISM

299

by three steps, at which the people receive the Eucha¬
ristic elements. Through the arch is dimly seen the
altar, over which is a stone canopy, or baldachino , sup¬
ported on four pillars. In the sacristy is a narrow but
deep font, in which the infant is baptized by being
dipped in the water up to the knees at the name of the
Father, up to the waist at the name of the Son, and
wholly immersed at the name of the Holy Ghost, the
priest repeating, “ Thou art baptized in the name of the
Father, Amen, and of the Son, Amen, and of the Holy
Ghost, Amen.” Before the rite the infant’s forehead is
anointed with oil in the church, and it is completely
anointed in the baptistery before being plunged into the
font. Every infant has two god-parents, who act as
sponsors at its subsequent marriage. These persons by
undertaking this office are placed in a relationship of
affinity close enough to be a bar to marriage. After the
baptism the child is confirmed in the nave with oil and
the imposition of the priest’s hands, and after being very
tightly bound up in its swaddling clothes is handed to the
god-parents. Infant communion is the rule of the Church,
but the elements are rarely received at the time of baptism.

Baptism is only valid when celebrated by a priest and
in a consecrated church. Private baptisms are unlawful,
but there is a form of prayer appointed for use if a child
is dangerously ill, during which the priest signs a basin
of water with the sign of the Cross, saying, “ In the
strength of our Lord may this water be of blessing in
the name,” etc. The mother afterwards bathes the child
in the water, and if it dies they “ trust it to the mercy
of God.” If it recovers it must be taken to church to be
baptized in the usual manner. The Holy Communion,
the Kourbana , ought by rule to precede baptism in the
very early morning, and the baptismal rite ought to be
administered on the eighth day, but it is often postponed

300

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

till the annual village festival, at which the Kourbana is
always celebrated. 1

The whole interior of the church of Kochanes is
covered by a plain vaulted stone roof. At the west
end of the nave is a row of oblong stone tombs, four
feet high, in which several of the patriarchs are buried;
and a steep narrow stone stair leads from these to a
small door high up in the north wall, which gives access
to a small chamber in which the priest prepares and
bakes the bread for the Holy Communion. The flour
for this purpose is preferably of wheat which has been
gleaned by girls. It is ground in a hand-mill and is
mixed with “holy leaven,” handed on from sacr am ent to
sacrament. The bread is made into round cakes, a
quarter of an inch thick and two and a half inches in
diameter, which are stamped with a cross. Great import¬
ance is attached to the elements, and the water used for
mixing with the sacramental wine is always brought from
the purest spring within reach. 2

On one side of this upper chamber, at a height of four
feet, there is the mouth of a sort of tunnel which runs
between the flat exterior roof and the vaulted ceiling
of the nave. This is used for concealing the Liturgies
and the other poor valuables of the church in times of
peril. Secret as this hiding-place is, the Kurds dis¬
covered it some years ago, and carried off and de-

1 For the correction of my very imperfect investigations into the re¬
ligions customs of the Syrians, I am indebted to a very careful and
learned paper by Canon Maclean, Some Account of the Customs of the
Eastern Syrian Churches, originaUy published in the Guardian, and now
to be obtained at the office of “The Archbishop of Canterbury’s Mission to
the Assyrian Christians, 2 Deans Yard, Westminster.”

2 A singular legend is told regarding the origin of the sacred leaven
and the sacred oil.

The Syrians say that as our Lord went up out of the Jordan after His
baptism John the Baptist collected in a phial the baptismal water as it
dropped from His sacred person, giving it before his death to St. John the

LETTER XXIX

DAILY PRAYERS

301

stroyed whatever of value had been hidden, including
a firman and a knife which (it is said) were given by
Mohammed to a former Catholicos , and which are now in
Stamboul.

The general arrangement of the church is a pathetic
protest against chronic insecurity and persecution. The
interior, and especially the sanctuary, are as black as
smoke can make them, although very few candles are
ordinarily used, the clergy holding rolls of thin wax
taper in their hands when they require light on the
Liturgies and Gospel. There is little architectural orna¬
ment except some sculptured stones, and two recesses
with scallop-shell roofs at the sides of the chancel arch.
The church is in good repair, for if any rain gets into
a sacred building it has to be reconsecrated.

Towards five o’clock the sounding-board is beaten, and
the Patriarch, the two bishops, and some other men, all
in secular dress, saunter down to evening prayers, which
are usually said by the Patriarch himself, and consist of
a few prayers, a short lesson, and some psalms. The
custom is for the people on entering to kiss the Cross,
the Gospels, and the Patriarch’s hand, and to lay their
daggers in the church porch. Clerical vestments are not
worn at these services. The Liturgies and Gospels are
magnificent specimens of caligraphy, and the Syriac
characters are in themselves beautiful.

Evangelist. At the Last Supper (the legend runs) our Lord gave to John
two loaves, putting it into his heart to preserve one. At the Cross, when
this same apostle saw the “ blood and water,” he took the phial from his
bosom and added the water from the pierced side to the water of baptism,
dipping the loaf at the same time in the blood. After the Day of Pente¬
cost the disciples, before going forth to “disciple” the nations, ground
John’s blood-dyed loaf to powder, mixed it with flour and salt, divided
it among themselves, and carried it forth to serve as leaven for ever for
the bread of remembrance. In like manner they took of the mingled
water of the phial, and mixing it with oil of unction, divided it, and pre¬
served it for the perpetual sanctification of the waters of baptism.

30 i JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

It is appointed that the whole Psalter be recited in
three days, and though I imagine that some abridgment
is made, the priests and people, contrary to rule, are apt
to sit on the floor during the antiphonal singing of the
psalms, owing to their extreme length. The chanting
is very discordant, as each man adopts the key which
suits himself.

The “ kiss of peace ” is an interesting and decorous
feature of the daily worship, and is always given at the
beginning, even if it should be omitted at the close. On
entering the church the priest crosses himself and kisses
the Cross, which always lies on the altar on the north
side, saying, “ Glory be to God in the highest.” After
this the people come forward and kiss first the Cross
and then the priest’s hand, and each passing on
touches the hands of those who before him have kissed
the sacred emblem and raises his own hand to his
lips. It is the custom always to kiss the hand of a
bishop or priest on meeting him in the road or else¬
where, and the salutation is performed in a reverential
manner.

The church furniture and vestments show the great
poverty of the people. The altar cloth is figured white
cotton. Two tarnished and battered candlesticks stand
on the altar, and a very sordid cross in the recess behind
it. The chalice is a silver bowl, tarnished, almost
blackened, by neglect, and the paten is a silver tray in
the same state. There are a bronze censer, an antique,
with embossed scripture figures upon it, and a branched
lamp-stand surmounted by a bird, both of the rudest con¬
struction, and greatly neglected. Dust and cobwebs of
ancient date, droppings from candles and bits of candle
wicks offend Western eyes in the sacristy and else¬
where.

The clerical dress is very simple and of the poorest

LETTER XXIX

SYRIAN BURIAL RITES

303

materials. The priest wears an alb, a girdle, and a stole
crossed over the breast, and at the Kourlana a calico
square with crosses in coloured cotton sewn upon it,
thrown over the shoulders, and raised at times to cover
the head, or to form a screen between him and the
congregation. The deacon wears an alb or “ church
shirt ” with coloured cotton crosses on the breast and
back, a blue and white girdle, and a stole which is crossed
over the right shoulder and has its ends tucked into the
girdle. The only difference in the dress of a bishop is
that he wears a stole reaching to the ankles and not
crossed upon the breast. The ordinary attire of the
clergy and laity is the same, and the same similarity
pervades their occupations. Even bishops may be seen
hard at work in the fields. The sanctuary is held in
great reverence, and Mar Gauriel, who is more like a
jolly sailor than a priest, put on a girdle and stole before
entering it when he showed it to me. Strange to say,
the priests and deacons officiating at the Holy Com¬
munion retain their shoes and remove their turbans.
The graves round the church are very numerous, and are
neatly kept. One burial has taken place since I came.
The corpse, that of a stranger, was enclosed in a rough
wooden coffin, and the blowing of horns, beating of drums,
carrying of branches decorated with handkerchiefs and
apples, and the wailing of the women and other demon¬
strations of grief, such as men jumping into the grave,
beating their breasts and uttering cries of anguish, dis¬
tressing scenes which are usual at Syrian funerals, were
consequently absent. The burial service is very strik¬
ing and dramatic, and there are different “orders” for
bishops, priests, deacons, laymen, women, and children.
The whole, if recited at full length, takes fully five hours !
Besides prayers innumerable both for the departed and
the survivors, there are various dialogues between the

304

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

mourners and the departed, and between the departed
and the souls of those already in Hades. 1

In spite of the perils around, “ marrying and giving in
marriage ” go on much as usual. Mar Gauriel, Bishop of
Urmi, has come up on nothing less important than a
matrimonial errand, to ask for the hand of the Patriarch’s
niece, a small child of eight years old, the daughter of
Ishai and Asiat, for his nephew, a boy of fourteen. Girls
may marry at twelve, and the beautiful Asiat, the child’s
mother, is only twenty. I was invited to tea when the
proposals were made in a neutral house, where Mr.
Browne interpreted the proceedings for me. Mar
Gauriel, handsomely dressed in red, with a khelat or
coat of honour ” given him by the Shah over his usual
clothes, looked as blithe and handsome as a suitor should.
He sat on one side of the floor with a friend to help his
suit, and on the other were seated Sulti, Asiat, and the
child.

Conversation was general for a time; then the Bishop,
with a change of face which meant business, produced a
small parcel, and laid on the floor, with a deliberate pause
between the articles, carbuncle and diamond rings, gold¬
headed pins, gold bracelets, a very fine pink coral neck-

1 A portion of one of the latter follows :—

The newly dead .—*'‘ Hail, my brethren and friends who sleep. Open
the door that I may enter in and see your ranks.”

Those in Hades .—“ Come, enter and see how many giants are sleeping
here, and have been made dust and rust and worms in the bosom of SheoL
Come, enter and see, 0 child of death, the race of Adam: see and gaze
where thy kind dwells. Come, enter and see the abundance of the bones
and their commingling. The bone of the king and the hone of the servant
are not separated. Come, enter and see the great corruption we are dwell¬
ing in.”

The 'mourners .—“ Wait for the Lord, who will come and raise you by
His right hand.”

Translations of the Liturgies are to be found in Dr. Badger’s valuable
book, The Nestorians and their Rituals.

LETTER XXIX

A REJECTED SUITOR

305

lace, with a gold and turquoise pendant, and finally a
long chain of hollow halls of massive filigree silver,
beautiful enough to “ fetch ” any woman. The mother
and aunt sat rigidly, assumed stony faces, and would not
admire. But Mar Gauriel had other weapons in his
armoury, and produced from a large bundle articles of
dress of full size, among which were Constantinople gauze
gowns sprigged with gold, a green silk gown covered with
embroidery, and lastly a sort of coat of very rich cloth of
gold, a costly thing. The child’s eyes sparkled at this.
The Bishop looked up from it at the two women, but a
look of contempt alone flitted across their stony faces.

Then he began his plea, which was loud and eloquent.
He said he could get a hundred brides for his nephew,
who would be good workers, but the daughter of Asiat
should be a princess, and have servants to wait upon her,
and have nothing to do. He said he would wait four years
for her, he only wanted a promise. He was not tactful.
He set forth the advantages of an alliance with himself
too strongly for a suitor. The house of Mar Shimun is
very proud and its connection is courted by all, and the
ladies were obdurate and literally frowned on his plea,
looking with well-acted contempt upon the glittering
display on the floor. Two days later the Patriarch him¬
self rejected Mar Gauriel’s suit, saying, “ It would be a
shame for the House of Mar Shimun—-it would be a
shameful example to betroth so young a girl.” There
the matter must rest, for a time at least.

An actual marriage is arranged, and this time the bride,
Sanjani, is a handsome and very attractive girl of four¬
teen years old, with a strong will and individuality. She
has been several times to see me, and I have become quite
interested in her. Yesterday a number of men were seen
descending the dizzy zigzags which lead from Jelu down
the mountain on the other side of the Terpai ravine, and
VOL. II x

306

JOTJBNEYS IN KUBDISTAN letter xxix

later, after a few shots had been fired, a party of Jelu
mountaineers superbly dressed came up into Kochanes,
also on a matrimonial errand. Some of these men are
quite blond. They came on behalf of a youth of high
position in Jelu, and the bargaining was keen, for the
girl is of the House of Mar Shimun. Eventually they
gave twenty liras , a mule, a gun, thirty sheep, and a re¬
volver for her, as well as presents to the negotiators. She
wept most bitterly at the prospect of leaving Kochanes.
The money is spent on the trousseau , and the bride’s
parents give a present to the bridegroom.

Shortly after the betrothal, Mar Sergis, Bishop of
Jelu, arrived,-with fifty Jelu men, the young bridegroom,
and some matrons. The Bishop, who is a grand-looking
man, was dressed in a robe, red shulwars, and a turban;
the other men were in silks and gold embroideries, and
carried jewelled Jchanjars , revolvers, and long guns with
the stocks curiously inlaid with ivory and silver. As
they c lim bed up through the bushes of the ravine they
simulated an attack by skirmishers, firing guns and
revolvers. A few Kochanes men fired as if in defence,
but most of the people decided not to show this “ sign of
joy,” because news had come that the Kurds had driven
off the sheep of the father of Asiat. So with this feint
of attack and capture the brilliant throng reached the
top of the ascent, Mar Sergis and others riding mules,
musicians playing a drum and flageolets, and five or six
men with drawn swords in their right hands and leather
shields on their left arms escorting the bridegroom to
the hospitalities of the Patriarch’s house. The roofs
were crowded with villagers, but the bride was hidden
in her father’s house. The father had beaten her on
her head with a long wooden spoon, and she was lying
down!

On that and the two following evenings there was

LETTER XXIX

MARRIAGE CUSTOMS

307

dancing in the house late into the night, and the days
were spent in feasting, sword-dances, and masquerading.
It is regarded as a very “ good ” marriage for Sanjani.
The marriage ceremony, which is private, was performed
in the church at sunrise on the fourth day. There were
present Mar Sergis the bridegroom’s uncle, the bridegroom,
“ the bridegroom’s friend,” and Sanjani and her mother,
who were preceded to the church by a lifer. The marriage
service, which took half an hour, was performed at the
west end of the nave. At the conclusion wine and water
(hut not as a Eucharistic symbol), mixed with a little earth
from the church precincts, were administered to the married
couple. The ring is used as with us. The most curious
part of the ceremony is that while the service or “ Bless¬
ing,” as it is called, is proceeding, the groomsman holds
up a light wooden frame, to which fruits are attached.
This is also hung over the bridegroom’s head at the
father-in-law’s house, and is carried with him when he goes
out to dance. It is broken on the last day of the feast¬
ing, and the pair and their friends eat the fruit. The
festivities were prolonged for three days more, after which
the bride, with music and firing of guns, was taken away
in charge of the matrons to her husband’s house in
Jelu, where there were to be rejoicings and feastings
for other seven days. As the bride’s procession passes,
the bridegroom, attended by his young men-friends, takes
his place on a roof, with a store of apples beside him,,
which, after signing himself with the Cross, he throws
among the crowd, the hitting of the bride being regarded
as a sign of good luck.

Bishops are not allowed to marry, but to priests
after their ordination both first and second marriages are
permitted. The law of divorce is very lax, even accord¬
ing to the Church canons, and Canon Maclean says that
the practice is very bad, and that it is a great temptation

308

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

to the bishops, several of whom are very poor, to grant
divorces for the sake of the fees.

Friday was a severe fast in the Patriarch’s household,
as in all others. The fasts of the Syrian Church, it has
been said, “can only be described as prodigious.” A
Syrian fast means serious self-denial, for it involves not
only abstinence from meat, but from fish, honey, eggs,
m ilk , butter, cheese, and all animal products, and the
Syrian eats nothing but rice cooked in walnut oil, raisins,
walnuts, treacle, beans, plain potatoes, and bread. All
Wednesdays and Fridays in the year this strict regimen is
adhered to, and the members of the Old Church also fast
for fifty days in Lent, and twenty-five in Advent, and keep
the very severe three days’ fast of the Ninevites. Most
adults keep also the fast of St. Mary, the first fourteen
days of August. No religious observance is more rigidly
adhered to by the nation than these severe and prolonged
abstinences, and it is difficult for the Syrians to believe
in the piety of any who do not, by the same methods,
mortify the body and bring it into subjection.

Mar Auraham, son of Marta, a man of twenty-six,
Patriarch-designate, and a bishop without a diocese, has
returned, and spent part of yesterday evening in my
room. He looks delicate, but has a bright, intelligent,
charming face, and his conversation was thoughtful and
interesting. He really cares about his church and
its discipline, is regarded as honourable and straight¬
forward in a marked degree, and as preferring the
spiritual to the temporal interests of his nation. He
is apparently a warm friend of the English Mission,
and if he should succeed to the chair of Mar Shimun
great progress might be expected; but intrigues are surging
round him, and the patriarchal family is not without its
ambitions, to which he may possibly be sacrificed.

The succession to the Patriarchate and Episcopate is

letter XXIX THE EPISCOPAL SUCCESSION

309

the subject of a peculiar arrangement, which makes these
offices practically hereditary. In the Mar Shimun family
there has been provided for more than three centuries
a regular succession of youths called Nazarites, who have
never eaten meat or married, and whose mothers ate no
meat for many months before they were born. One of
these is chosen by the Patriarch as his successor, and
then some of the disappointed youths take to eating meat
like other men. At the present time, though Mar Aura-
ham has been designated, there are one or two boy-
relatives of the Patriarch who are being brought up not
to eat meat. The same prohibition applies to a bishop. He
also usually has one or more Nazarites, frequently nephews
or cousins, who have been brought up by him not to
eat meat, one of whom, if there be more than one, he
chooses as his successor. If he neglects to make a choice,
the Bishopric at his death falls like a fief to the Patriarch,
who has an enormous diocese, while three of the Bishops
have only a few villages to look after.

Bishops, priests, and deacons are very poor. Occasion¬
ally a church has a field or two as an endowment, or the
villagers contribute a small sum annually, or plough the
priest’s fields, or shear his sheep, but the fees given for
baptisms, marriages, and other occasional offices would be
his sole dependence unless he followed some secular calling.
In some places there is a plethora of supernumerary priests,
and it is shrewdly said that these obtain holy orders from
the Bishops for the sake of the loaves of sugar paid as
fees. There are great abuses connected with ordination.
One of the present bishops was consecrated when quite a
young boy, and deacons are often ordained at sixteen,
and even much earlier. Mar Auraham must have been
consecrated before he was twenty. The only qualification
for ordination is the ability to read old Syriac. The
gaily-dressed and fully-armed young mountaineers whom

310

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

I have seen as representing the diaconate look far more
like bandits than deacons. In one large village there are
at present fifty deacons and fifteen priests attached to one
church!!

The Kourbana cannot be celebrated without the

SYRIAN PRIEST AND WIFE.

assistance of a deacon. It is almost entirely confined to
the great festivals and the feast of the patron saint of
each village. After the making of the bread with the
“ holy leaven ” and certain preliminaries by the clergy,
the congregation comes into church, summoned by blows
on the wooden sounding-board. The men stand in front,
the women behind, all taking off their shoes and kissing

LETTER XXIX

THE HOLY COMMUNION

311

the Cross. When the elements are to be received the
priest advances to the door of the sanctuary, and a deacon,
completely enveloped by the curtain before the entrance,
holds the paten while the priest gives the bread to the
men first, then to the women and to the little children, held
up either by father or mother. The adults receive the
cup in order from the deacon, who passes it through a hole
in a wall about six feet high, which runs parallel with the
wall of the sanctuary, but at a little distance from it. On
leaving the church after communion each person takes a
piece of ordinary bread from a tray near the door. The
priests and deacons communicate after the people when
the sanctuary veil has again been drawn. The Eucharist
is always celebrated at or before daybreak, except in the
case of certain fast days and at funerals, when it is con¬
sidered a devotional act to fast till mid-day. During
parts of the communion service one deacon swings a
censer and another “ clangs ” a cymbal.

The Kourbana as celebrated in the Syrian villages
reminds me both of the great communion gatherings of
the Scottish Highlands and the Church service which,
in my childhood, ushered in the revelry of the village
wake or feast. The festivals which, as in England,
fall on the feast of the patron saint of the village
are the great gaieties of Syrian life, and even the Kurd
cannot altogether overshadow them. After the celebra¬
tion of the Kourbana at dawn, when the crowds are
frequently so great that the church is filled by several
successive congregations of communicants, the day is
spent in visiting, and in every house fruit, sweetmeats,
and tea are provided for all comers, and aralc } if it be
obtainable, forms a part of the entertainment. Dances
and games are kept up all day, and at its close many
are drunk and disorderly. These are the occasions when
fighting with the Moslems is apt to take place.

312

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

Men and women, of course, dance separately, and the
women much in the background. The dancing, as I have
seen it, is slow and stately. A number of either sex join
hands in a ring, and move round to slow music, at times
letting go each other’s hands for the purpose of gesticula¬
tion and waving of handkerchiefs. It is not unlike the
national dance of the Bakhtiaris. The women not
only keep in retirement on this but on all occasions.
They never sit at meat with the men, but take their food
afterwards in private—indeed, I strongly suspect that
they eat the leavings of their superiors. It is not, how¬
ever, only the women who occupy a subordinate position.
Young men treat not only their fathers but their elder
brothers with extreme respect; and when there are guests
at table the sons do not sit down with the fathers, but
wait on the guests, and take their own meals, like the
women, afterwards.

The Syrians call Easter “ The Great Feast ” and Christ¬
mas “ The Little Feast.” At the former, eggs coloured red
are lavishly bestowed. The festival of the Epiphany also
receives great honour, but it is curious that a people who
believe that they owe their Christianity to the Wise Men
should not keep this feast so much in commemoration
of them as of our Lord’s baptism. So much does the
latter view preponderate, that the Urmi Christians call it
by a name which means “ The New Waters.” Here in
the mountains, however, it is called “The Brightness.”
During the night before the celebration of the Koiirlana
on the Feast of the Epiphany it is customary to plunge
into frozen pools ! “ One Lord, one faith, one baptism ”

they hold with us, and it is of great interest to recognise
this fact in the midst of many superstitions and even
puerilities.

It is impossible by any language to convey an idea of
the poverty and meanness, the blackness and accumula-

LETTER XXIX

“FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH

313

tions of dust, the darkness and the gloom of the Syrian
churches, of which this one is a favourable specimen, typi¬
fying, I fear, too truly the gross ignorance, indifference, and
superstition in which bishops, priests, and people are
buried. And yet they are “ faithful unto death.” My
daily wonder is that people who know so little will for
that little suffer the loss of all things. Apostasy would
be immediate emancipation from terror and ruin, but it is
nearly unknown. Their churches are like the catacombs.
Tew things can be more pathetic than a congregation
standing in the dark and dismal nave, kissing the
common wooden cross, and passing from hand to hand the
kiss of peace, while the priest, in dress like their own,
with girdle and stole of the poorest material, moves
among the ancient Liturgies in front of the dusty sanc¬
tuary, leading the worshippers in prayers and chants
which have come down from the earliest ages of Chris¬
tianity ; from the triumphant Church of the East to the
persecuted remnant of to-day. I. L. B.

314

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letteb xxix

LETTER XXIX (Continued)

Who is or is not in this house it is hard to say. Mirza
tells me that there are 115 guests to-day! Among
them are a number of Tyari men, whose wild looks,
combined with the splendour of their dress and arms,
are a great interest. Their chief man has invited me
to visit their valley, and they say if I will go to them
they will give me “a fine suit of clothes.” I need it
much, as doubtless they have’ observed! Their jackets
are one mass of gold embroidery (worked by Jews), their
shirts, with hanging sleeves, are striped satin; their
trousers, of sailor cut, are silk, made from the cocoons
of their own silkworms, woven with broad crimson stripes
on a white ground, on which is a zigzag pattern; and their
handsome jack-boots are of crimson leather. With their
white or red peaked felt hats and twisted silk pcigris, their
rich girdles,.jewelled daggers, and inlaid pistols, they
are very imposing. Female dress is very simple.

These Tyari men come ‘from one of the wildest and
most inaccessible valleys of Central Kurdistan, and belong
to those Ashirets or ’tribal Syrians who, in their deep
and narrow rifts, are practically unconquered by the
Turks and unmolested by the Kurds, and maintain a
fierce semi-independence under their maleks (lit. kings) or
chiefs. They are wild and lawless mountaineers, paying
taxes only when it suits them; brave, hardy, and warlike,
preserving their freedom by the sword; fierce, quarrel-

LETTER XXIX

. THE ASHIRETS

315

some among themselves, and having little in common
with the rayahs or subject Syrians of the plains except
their tenacious clinging to their ancient Church, with its
Liturgies and rites, and
their homage to our Lord
Jesus as divine. They and
their priests, many of
whom cannot even read,
are sunk in the grossest
ignorance. They love re¬
venge, are careless of
human life, and are wilder
and more savage than
their nominal masters. It
is among these people,
who purchase their free¬
dom at the cost of absolute
isolation, that Mr. Browne
is going to spend the com¬
ing winter, in the hope "1
of instructing their priests A
and deacons, to whom at
present guns are more than
ordinances. He has been
among them already, and
has won their good-will.

These Ashirets, of
whom the Tyari guests
are specimens, are quite
unlike the Syrian low-
landers, not only in character but in costume and
habits. As they have naturalised numbers of Kurd¬
ish words in their speech, so their dress, with its
colour, rich materials and embroideries, and lavish dis¬
play of decorated and costly arms, is almost altogether

A SYUIAN aiHL.

316

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

Kurdish. If report speaks truly their fierce tribal
feuds and readiness with the dagger are Kurdish also.
Their country is the country of the hunted. Its moun¬
tains rise nearly perpendicularly to altitudes of over
12,000 feet, and the valleys, such as Tyari, Tkhoma, Baz,
Diz, and Jelu, are mere slits or gashes, through which
furious tributaries of the greater Zab take their impetuous
course. Above these streams the tribes have built up
minute fields by raising the lower sides on stone walls a
few feet above the rivers, the upper being the steep hill
slope. So small are these plots that it is said that the
harvest of some of them would only fill a man’s cap!
Occasionally heavy floods sweep away the rice and millet
cultivation of a whole district, and the mountaineers are
compelled to depend for their food entirely on the produce
of their flocks.

If they could sustain themselves and their animals
altogether within their own fastnesses, they would be
secure from molestation either from Kurds or Turks, for
the only possible entrances to their valleys are so narrow
and ruggedly steep as scarcely to be accessible for a pack'
horse, and ten men could keep any number at bay. But
unfortunately the scanty herbage of their mountains is
soon exhausted, and they have to feed their flocks outside
their natural fortifications, where the sheep are constantly
being carried off by the Kurds, who murder the shepherds
and women. The mountaineers are quick to revenge them¬
selves ; they carry off Kurdish sheep, and savage warfare
and a life under arms are the normal condition of the
Ashirets. The worst of it is, that they are disunited among
themselves, and fight and spoil each other as much as
they fight the Kurds, even at times taking part with
them against their Christian brethren. Travellers are
scarcely safer from robbery among them than among the
Kurds, but fierce, savage, and quarrelsome as they are,

LETTER XXIX

THE EEV. ME. BEOWNE

317

and independent both of Turk and Kurd, they render a
sort of obedience to Mar Shimun, who rules them, through
their maleks. There is not only enmity between tribe and
tribe, but between village and village, and, as in parts of
the Bakhtiari country, guides refuse to conduct travellers
beyond certain spots, declaring that “ blood ” bars their
farther progress.

Besides the Kurdish and Ashiret inhabitants of these
mountains of Kurdistan there are Yezidis, usually called
devil-worshippers, and a few Jews and Armenians. Prob¬
ably there is not a wilder population on the face of the
earth, or one of whose ideas,real beliefs, and ways Europeans
are so ignorant. What, for instance, do we really know
of the beliefs which underlie the religious customs of the
Kizil bashes and Yezidis, and of the Christianity to which
these semi-savage Ashirets are so passionately attached ?

If I were to leave Mr. Browne unnoticed I should
ignore the most remarkable character in Koehanes.
Clothed partly as a Syrian and living altogether like
one,—at this time speaking Syriac more readily than
English ; limited to this narrow alp and to the narrower
exile of the Tyari valley; self-exiled from civilised society;
snowed up for many months of the year; his communica¬
tions even with Yan and Urmi irregular and precarious ; a
priest without an altar; a teacher without pupils; a hermit
without privacy; his time at the disposal of every one who
cares to waste it; harassed by Turkish officialism and
obstruction, and prohibited by the Porte from any active
" mission work,” it yet would be hard to find a sunnier,
more loving, and more buoyant spirit. He has lived among
these people for nearly four years as one of themselves,
making their interests completely his own, suffering keenly
in their persecutions and losses, and entering warmly
even into their most trivial concerns, till he has become
in fact a Syrian among Syrians. He sits on the floor in

318

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN

LETTER XXIX

native fashion; his primitive and unpalatable food, served
in copper bowls from the Patriarch’s kitchen, is eaten with
his fingers; he is nearly without possessions, he sleeps on
the floor “among the spiders” without a mattress, he
lives in a hovel up a steep ladder in a sort of tower
out of repair—Syrian customs and etiquette have be¬
come second nature to him.

He has no “mission work” to report. He is him¬
self the mission and the work. The hostility of the
Turkish Government and the insecurity of the country
prevent him from opening schools, he cannot even
assemble a few boys and teach them their letters; he got
a bit of land and the stones for erecting a cottage, but is
not allowed to build; his plans are all frustrated by.
bigotry on one side and timidity on the other, and he is
even prevented from preaching by the blind conservatism
of the patriarchal court. It has not been the custom to
have preaching at Kochanes. “ Sermons were dangerous
things that promoted heresy,” the Patriarch said. But
Mr. Browne is far from being idle. People come
to him from the villages and surrounding country for
advice, and often take it. They confide all their concerns
to him, he acts effectively the part of a peacemaker in
their quarrels, he is trusted even by the semi-savage
chiefs and priests of the mountain tribes, and his medi¬
cal skill, which is at the service of all, is largely resorted
to at all hours of the day. Silenced from preaching and
prohibited from teaching, far better than a sermon
is his own cheery life of unconscious self-sacrifice, truth,
purity, and devotion. This example the people can
understand, though they cannot see why an English¬
man should voluntarily take to such a life as he leads.
His power lies in his singular love for them, and in
his almost complete absorption in their lives and interests.

His room is most amusing. It is little better than a

LETTER XXIX

THE CATTLE PLAGUE

319

Kerry hovel. He uses neither chair, table, nor bed; the
uneven earthen floor is covered with such a litter of
rubbish as is to be seen at the back of a “ rag and bone ”
shop, dusty medicine bottles predominating. There is a
general dismemberment of everything that once was
serviceable. The occupant of the room is absolutely
unconscious of its demerits, and my ejaculations of dis¬
may are received with hearty laughter. 1

Humbly following his example, I have become ab¬
sorbed in the interests of the inhabitants of Kochanes,
and would willingly stay here for some weeks longer if
it were not for the risk of being blocked in by snow on
the Armenian highlands. The cattle plague is very
severe, in addition to other misfortunes. The village has
already lost 135 of its herd, and I seldom go out with¬
out seeing men dragging carcasses to be thrown over the
cliff. The people believe that the men will die next year.

My future journey and its safety are much discussed.
If I had had any idea of the “ disturbed ” state of the
region that I have yet to pass through I should never
have entered Turkey, but now I have resolved to go vid
Bitlis to Erzerum. If the road is as dangerous as it
is said to be, and if the rumours regarding the state of
the Christians turn out to have much truth in them, the

1 In the winter of 1887 and the spring of 1888 every effort was made
by Fikri Pasha, the Turkish Governor of this district, hut a Kurd by race,
to dislodge Mr. Browne from his position in the mountains. “Soldiers
were continually sent to inquire into his plans ; he was accused of prac¬
tising without a diploma as a medical man, because he gave a few simple
remedies to the natives in a country destitute of physicians, and his
position became well-nigh intolerable when he found that his host, Mar
Shimun, was being insulted and punished for harbouring him, and that
the native Christians were being made to suffer for his residence among
them. The Patriarch, however, stood firm. c Your presence here, 9 said he
to Mr. Browne, ‘may save us from a massacre; and as for these troubles
we must put up with them as best we can.’ These words were verified a
few months afterwards.”—Mr. Athelstan Riley’s Report on the Archbishop
of Canterbury's Mission to the Assyrian Chri$tians 3 1888.

320

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

testimony of a neutral observer may be useful and help¬
ful. At all events the risk is worth running. My

great diffi culty is that Qasha -must leave me here

to return to Urmi with Mar Gauriel’s escort, and that I
have no competent man with me in case of difficulty.
Mirza not only does not speak Turkish, but has no “ back¬
bone,” and Johannes, besides having the disadvantage
of being an Armenian, is really half a savage, as well
as disobedient, bad-tempered, reckless, and quarrelsome.
He fought with a Turk at Yekmala, and got me into
trouble, and one of his first misdemeanours here was to
shoot the church doves, which are regarded as sacred,
thereby giving great offence to the Patriarch.

It is most difficult to get away. The Julamerik
muleteers are afraid of being robbed on the route I wish
to take, and none of them but a young Kurd will under¬
take my loads, and though he arrived last night the
zaptiehs I applied for have failed me. They were to have
been here by daylight this morning, and the loads were
ready, but nine o’clock came without their appearance.
I wanted to take armed men from Kochanes, but Mar
Shimun said that twelve Christians would be no protec¬
tion against the Kurds, and that I must not go without
a Government escort, so things were unpacked. Late
this ev ening , and after another messenger had been sent
to J ulam erik, one zaptieh arrived with a message that
they could not spare more, and the people protest against
my leaving with such insufficient protection.

Another difficulty is the want of money. Owing to
the “ boom ” in silver in Persia, and the semi-panic which
prevailed, the utmost efforts of my friends in TJrmi could
only obtain £10 for a £20 note, and this only in silver
mejidiehs, a Turkish coin worth about 4s. As no money
is current in the villages change cannot be procured, and
on sending to Julamerik for small coins, only a very

LETTER XXIX

KOCHANES TOPICS

321

limited quantity could be obtained—Kussian kopecks locally
current at half their value, Turkish coins the size of a
crown piece, but so debased that they are only worth Is.,
a number of pieces of base metal the size of sixpences,
and “ groats 55 and copper coins, miserably thin. It took
me an hour, even with Mr. Browne’s help, to count 8 s.
in this truly execrable money. The Julamerik shroff sent
word that the English sovereign is selling at 16s. only.

So, owing to these delays, I have had another day
here, with its usual routine of drinking coffee in houses,
inviting women to tea in my room, receiving mountaineers
and others who come in at all hours and kiss my hand,
and smoke their long pipes on my floor, and another
opportunity of walking in the glory of the sunset, when
the mountain barriers of beautiful Kochanes glow with a
colouring which suggests thoughts of “ the land which is
very far off.” Good Mr. Browne makes himself one with
the people, and is most anxious for me to identify every¬
body, and say the right thing to everybody—no easy task,
and as I hope and fear that this is my last evening, I
have tried to “ leave a pleasant impression ” by spending
it in the great gathering-place, called pre-eminently the
“ house ”! Mirza says that the people talk of nothing
but “ guns, Kurds, the harvest, and the local news,” but the
conversation to-night had a wider range, and was often
very amusing, taking a sombre turn only when the risks
of my journey were discussed, and the possible misconduct
of my Kurdish katirgi. Ishai, who describes him as “ a
very tame man ” (not at all my impression of him), has
told him that “ if he* gives any trouble the House of Mar
Shimun will never forget it.”

Nothing could exceed the picturesqueness of the
"house” to-night. There were doubtless fifty people
there, but the lamps, which look as old as the relentless
sweep of Taimurlane, hanging high on the blackened

322

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxix

pillars, only lighted up the central group, consisting of
Sulti and Marta in the highest place, the English priest
in his turban and cassock, the grotesque visage of Shlimon
the Jester, and the beautiful face and figure and splendid
dress of Ishai the Patriarch’s brother, as proud as proud
can be, but sitting among the retainers of his ancient
house playing on a musical instrument, the hereditary
familiarity of serf and lord blending with such expressions
of respect as “ your foot is on my eyes,” and the favourite
asseveration, “ by the Head of Mar Shimun.” The black¬
ness in which the lofty roof was lost, the big ovens with
their busy groups, the rows of men, half-seen in the dim¬
ness, lounging on natural ledges of rock, and the uphill
floor with its uncouth plenishings, made up such a picture as
the feudalism of our own middle ages might have presented.

My letter 1 from the Turkish Ambassador at Tihran
was sent to Julamerik this afternoon, and has produced
another zaptieh , and an apology ! I. L. B.

1 Translation of a letter given to the author by His Excellency the
Turkish Ambassador to the Court of Tihran.

“ Among the honoured of English ladies is Mrs. Bishop. On this tour
of travel she has a letter of recommendation from the Exalted Government
of England, issued by the English Embassy in Tihran, and earnest request
is made that in her passage through the Imperial Territory she be well
protected. As far as mptiehs are necessary let them be given for her
safety, all necessary provision for her most comfortable travel be per¬
fected, and all her requests from the High Government of the Osmanlis
be met.

et That all courtesy and attention be shown to this distinguished lady,
this letter is given from the Embassy at Tihran. ”

As various statements purporting to be narratives of attacks made upon
me in Turkey have appeared in Russian and other papers, I take this op¬
portunity of saying that they are devoid of any foundation. I was never
robbed while in the dominion of His Majesty the Sultan: courtesy was shown
me by all the Turkish officials between the Persian frontier and Erzerum,
and efficient escorts of steady and respectful zaptiehs were readily supplied.

LETTER XXX

A RAVAGED HAMLET

323

LETTER XXX

Kotranis, Kurdistan, Oct 28.

Here, in one of the wildest of mountain hamlets, I hoped
to indulge in the luxury of my tent, and it was actually
unrolled, when all the village men came to me and with
gestures of appeal besought me not to pitch it, as it would
not be safe for one hour and would “ bring trouble upon
them/' The hamlet is suffering terribly from the Kurds,
Y^ho are not only robbing it of its sheep and most else,
but are attempting to deprive the peasants of their lands
in spite of the fact that they possess title-deeds. This
Berwar-Lata valley has been reduced from a condition of
pastoral wealth to one of extreme poverty. Kotranis,
and Bilar a little lower down, from which the best hones
are exported, are ruined by Kurdish exactions. The
Christians sow and the Kurds reap: they breed cattle
and sheep and the Kurds drive them off when they are

well grown. One man at - a few miles off, had

1000 sheep. He has been robbed of all but sixty. This
is but a specimen of the wrongs to which these unhappy
people are exposed. The Kurds now scarcely give them
any respite in which “ to let the sheep’s wool growl’ as
their phrase is.

Kotranis is my last Syrian halting-place, and its
miseries are well fitted to leave a lasting impression. It
is included in the vilayet of Van, in which, according to
the latest estimates, there are 80,000 Syrian Christians.

324

JOUBNEYS IN KUBDISTAN letter xxx

The rayahs either own the village lands or are the depend¬
ants or -serfs of a Kurdish Agha or master. In either
case their condition is deplorable, for they have practi¬
cally no rights which a Kurd or Turk is bound to respect.
In some of their villages they have been robbed till they
are absolutely without the means of paying taxes, and
are beaten, till the fact is established beyond dispute.
They are but scantily supplied with the necessaries of
life, though their industry produces abundance. Squeezed
between the rapacity and violence of the Kurds and the
exactions of the Turkish officials, who undoubtedly connive
at outrages so long as the victims are Christians , the condi¬
tion of these Syrians is one of the most pitiable on earth.
They have no representatives in the cities of Europe and
Asia, and no commercial instincts and habits like the
Armenians. They have the Oriental failings of untruth¬
fulness and avarice, and the cunning begotten by centuries
of oppression, but otherwise they are simple, grossly
ignorant, helpless shepherds and cultivators; aliens by race
and creed, without a rich or capable man among them,
hemmed in by some of the most inaccessible of mountain
ranges, and by their oppressors the Kurds; without a
leader, adviser, or friend, rarely visited by travellers,
with no voice which can reach Europe, with a present
of intolerable bondage and a future without light, and
yet through all clinging passionately to the faith re¬
ceived by tradition from their fathers.

As I have no lodging but a dark stable, I am utilis¬
ing the late afternoon, sitting by the village threshing-
floor, on which a mixed rabble of animals is treading
corn. Some buffaloes are lying in moist places looking
amiable and foolish. Boy is tied to my chair. The
village women knit and stare. Two of the men, armed
with matchlock guns, keep a look-out for the Kurds. A
crystal stream tumbles through the village, over ledges

LETTER XXX

A MOUNTAIN VIEW

325

of white quartz. Below, the valley opens and discloses
ranges bathed in ineffable blue. The mountain sides are
aflame with autumn tints, and down their steep paths
oxen are bringing the tawny gold of the late harvest on
rude sledges. But the shadow of the Kurd is over it all.
I left English-speaking people so lately that I scarcely
realise that I am now alone in Central Kurdistan, in one
of the wildest parts of the world, among fierce predatory
tribes, and a ravaged and imperilled people.

I bade the Patriarch farewell at six this morning, and
even at that early hour men were seated all round his
room. After shaking hands with about thirty people, I
walked the first mile accompanied by Mr. Browne, who
then left me on his way to seek to enlighten the wild
tribesmen of the Tyari valley. From the top of the
Kamerlan Pass, above Kochanes, the view was inconceiv¬
ably beautiful. On the lovely alp on which the village
stands a red patch of autumnal colouring flamed against
the deep indigo and purple mountains of Diz and Shaw-
utha, which block up the east end of the lofty valley;
while above these rose the Jelu ranges, said to be from
12,000 to 15,000 feet in altitude, bathed in rich pure
blue, snow-fields on their platforms, new-fallen snow on
their crests, indigo shadows in their clefts and ravines,—
a glorious group of spires, peaks, crags, chasms, precipices,
rifts, parapets, and ridges perfect in their beauty as seen
in the calm coloured atmosphere in which autumn loves
to die. Higher up we were in vast solitudes, among
splintered peaks and pasturages where clear streams
crashed over rock ledges or murmured under ice, and
then a descent of 1800 feet by steep zigzags, and a
seven hours’ march in keen pure air, brought us through
rounded hills to this village.

Van, November 1 .—There was a night alarm at Kot-
ranis. A number of Kurds came down upon the threshing-

326

JOUENEYS IN KUEDISTAN letter xxx

floor, and the zaptiehs were most unwilling to drive off the
marauders, saying that their only orders were to protect
me. The Kurds, who were at least ten to one, retired
when they saw the Government uniforms, hut the big dogs
barked for the rest of the night.

The next day’s march occupied eleven hours. It
was very cold, “light without heat,” superb travelling
weather. One zaptieh was a Moslem, the other an
Armenian, and there were strong differences of opinion
between them, especially when we halted to rest at a
Christian village, and the Kurdish katirgi took several
sheaves of corn from a threshing-floor without paying for
them. The Moslem insisted that he should not pay, and
the Christian that he should, and it ended by my paying
and deducting the sum from his bakhsJieesh. The zaptiehs
are usually men who have served five years with the
colours. In Eastern Asia Minor they are well clothed
in dark blue braided uniforms, and have ulsters in
addition for cold weather. They provide their own
horses. Their pay is eighty piastres a month, with
rations of bread for themselves and of barley for their
animals, but the pay is often nine months in arrear, or
they receive it in depreciated paper. They are accused
of being directly or indirectly concerned in many rob¬
beries, and of preying on the peasantry. They are
armed with Snider rifles, swords, and revolvers. From
the top of a high pass above Kotranis there was a final
view of the Jelu mountains, and the remainder of the
day was spent among hills, streams, and valleys, with
rich fertile soil and abundant water, but very thinly
peopled.

A very ingenious plough has taken the place of the
primitive implement hitherto used. The share is big and
heavy, well shod with iron, and turns up the soil to a
great depth. The draught is from an axle with two

LETTER XXX

A COLD RECEPTION

327

wheels, one of them two feet in diameter and the other
only ten inches. The big wheel runs in the last furrow,
and the little one on 'the soil not yet upturned, the axle
being level. Some of these ploughs were drawn by eight
buffaloes, with a boy, singing an inharmonious tune,
seated facing backwards on each yoke. After the
ploughing, water is turned on to soften the clods, which
are then broken up by the husbandmen with spades.

There is a great charm about the scenery as seen at
this season, the glorious colouring towards sunset, the
fantastic forms and brilliant tints of the rocks, and the
purity of the new-fallen snow upon the heights; but
between Kotranis and Yan, except for a little planting
in the “ Valley of the Armenians,” there is scarcely a
bush. If I had warm clothing I should regard the
temperature as perfect, nearly 50° at noon, and falling
to about 25° at night. After a severe march, a descent
and a sudden turn in the road brought us in the purple
twilight to Merwanen, the chief village of Norduz,
streamily situated on a slope—a wretched village, semi¬
subterranean; a partly finished house, occupied by a newly
arrived Kaimaham and a number of mjptiehs, rising
above the miserable hovels, which, bad as they are, were
all occupied by the Kaimakam’s attendants. Zaptielis,
soldiers, Kurds, and villagers assured me that there was no
room anywhere, and an officer, in a much-frogged uniform,
drove my men from pillar to post, not allowing us stand¬
ing room on the little dry ground that there was. I
humbly asked if I could pitch my tent, but a rough
negative was returned. A subterranean buffalo stable,
where there was just room among the buffaloes for me
to lie down in a cramped position, was the only available
shelter, and there was none for the servants. I do not
much mind sharing a stable with Bdy, but I “ draw the
line” at buffaloes, and came out again into the frosty

328

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN

LETTER XXX

air, into an inhospitable and altogether unprepossessing
crowd.

Then there was a commotion, with much bowing
and falling to the right and left, and the Kaimakam him¬
self appeared, with my powerful letter in his hand,
took me into the unfinished house, at which he had only
arrived an hour before, and into a small room almost
altogether occupied by two beds on the floor, on one of
which a man very ill of fever was lying, and on the
other an unveiled Kurdish beauty was sitting. The
Kaimakam , though exceedingly “ the worse of drink,” was
not without a certain dignity and courtesy. He apolo¬
gised profoundly for the incivility and discomfort which,
I had met with, and for his inability to entertain me
“ with distinction ” in “ so rough a place,” but said that
he would give up his own room to so “ exalted a per¬
sonage,” or if I preferred a room outside it should be
made ready. Of course I chose the latter, with profuse
expressions of the gratitude I sincerely felt, and after a
cup of coffee bade him good-night.

The room was the justice or injustice room over
the zaptieh barracks, and without either door or glazed
windows, but cold and stiff as I was after an eleven hours'
march, I was thankful for any rest and shelter. Shortly
my young Kurdish katirgi , a splendid fellow, but not
the least “ tame,” announced that he must leave me in
order to get the escort of some zaptiehs back to Julamerik.
He said that “ they all ” told him that the road to Yan was
full of danger, and that if he went on he would be robbed
of his mules and money on the way back. Ho transport
however, was to be got, and he came on with me very
pluckily, and has got an escort back, at least to Merwanen.
In the morning the Kaimakam rose early to do me honour,
but was so tipsy that he could scarcely sit upright on
his chair on a stone dais amidst a rabble of soldiers and

letter XXX A SEMI-SUBTERRANEAN STABLE

329

scribes. We were all benumbed with cold, and glad
that the crossing of an expanse of frozen streams rendered
walking a necessity. A nine hours' march through
mountains remarkable for rocky spires and needles
marvellously coloured, and for the absence of inhabitants,
took us to the Armenian village of Khanjarak, finely
situated in a corrie upon a torrent bank; but it is so
subterranean, and so built into the hillside, that a small
square church and conical piles of kizilcs are the only
obvious objects, and I rode over the roofs without know¬
ing what was underneath.

All the women and children, rabbit-like, came
out of their holes, clothed in red rags, and some wore
strings of coins round their heads. The men were dressed
like Kurds, and were nearly as wild-looking. They pro¬
tested against my tent being pitched. They said the
Kurds were always on the watch, and would hack it with
their swords in half an hour to get at its contents, that
'they had only three matchlock guns, and that the Kurds
were armed with rifles. I felt that I could scarcely
touch a lower depth in the matter of accommodation than
when they lodged me in a dark subterranean stable,
running very far back into the hill, with a fire of animal
fuel in the middle giving off dense and acrid fumes. A
recess in this, with a mud bench, was curtained off for
me, and the rest of the space was occupied by my own
horses and baggage mules, and most of the village asses,
goats, cows, calves, and sheep. Several horses belonging
to travellers and to my own escort were also there, and all
the zwptiehs, servants, travellers, and Icatirgis were lodged
there. There were legions of fleas revelling in a tempera¬
ture which rose to 80° at midnight, though there were 5°
of frost outside. In the part of the roof which projected
from the hill there were two holes for light, but at night
these were carefully closed with corks of plaited straw.

330

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxx

The wretched poverty of the people of this place made
a very painful impression on me. They may have exag¬
gerated when they told me how terribly they are oppressed
by the Kurds, who, they say, last year robbed them of 900
sheep and this year of 300, twenty-five and some cattle
having been driven off a few days before, but it is a
simple fact that the night of my visit the twenty-four
sheep for which there was no room in the stable were
carried away by a party of well - armed Kurds in
the bright moonlight, the helpless shepherds not daring
to resist. It is of no use, they say, to petition the
Government; it will not interfere. The Kurds come into
their houses, they say, and terrify and insult their women,
and by demands with violence take away all they have.
They say that the money for which they have sold their
grain, and which they were keeping to pay their taxes
with, was taken by the Kurds last week, and that they
will be cruelly beaten by the mjotiehs because they can¬
not pay. Their words and air expressed abject terror. 1

Their little church is poorer than poverty itself, a
building of undressed stone without mortar, and its length
of thirteen feet includes the rude mud dais occupied by
the yet ruder altar. Its furniture consists of an iron
censer, an iron saucer containing oil and a wick, and an

1 I must ask my readers to believe that I crossed the Turkish , frontier
without any knowledge of or interest in the “ Armenian Question ; ” that so
far from having any special liking for the Armenians I had rather a pre¬
judice against them; that I was in ignorance of the “ Erzerum troubles ”
of June 1890, and of yet more recent complications, and that the sole
object of my journey by a route seldom traversed by Europeans from
Urmi to Van was to visit the Patriarch of the Nestorians and the Kochanes
station of the Archbishop of Canterbury’s Assyrian Church Mission, and
that afterwards I travelled to Erzerum md Bitlis only to visit the American
missionaries there. So far as I know, I entered Turkey as a perfectly
neutral and impartial observer, and without any special interest in its
Christian populations, and it is only the “ inexorable logic of facts ” which
has convinced me of their wrongs and claims.

LETTER XXX

IGNORANT WORSHIP

331

earthen flagon. There are no windows, and the rough
walls are black with candle smoke. The young man who
showed the church took a Gospel from the dais, kissing
the cross upon it before handing it to me, and then
on seeing that I was interested went home and brought
a MS. of St. Matthew’s Gospel, with several rudely-
illuminated scenes from our Lord’s life. “ Christos,”
he said with a smile, as he pointed to the central figure
in the first illustration, and so on as he showed me the
others, for in each there was a figure of the Christ, not
crowned and risen, but suffering and humiliated. Next
morning, in the bitter cold of the hour before sunrise,
the clang of the mallet on the sounding-board assembled
the villagers for matins, and to the Christ crowned and
risen and “sitting on the right hand of power” they
rendered honour as Divine, though in the midst of the
grossest superstition and darkness, and for Him whom
they “ignorantly worship” they are at this moment
suffering the loss of all things. Their empty sheepfold
might have been full to-day if they had acknowledged
Him as a Prophet and no more. 1

Leaving this wretched hamlet, where the unfortunate
peasants are as avaricious as they are poor and dirty,
and passing a Kurdish village with a stone fort pic¬
turesquely situated, we crossed a pass into a solitary
valley, on which high rounded hills descend in harmonised
buffs and browns, both hills and valleys covered with un¬
cut hay. The zctptiehs said that this was a specially
dangerous place, and urged the caravan to its utmost
speed. We met three Armenian 'katirgis in their shirts.
They complained most bitterly that they had been robbed
an hour before of five mules with their equipments, as well

1 In another village, a young man in speaking of their circumstances
said : “ We don’t know much, but we love the Lord Jesus well enough to
die for Him.”

332

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN

LETTER XXX

as of their clothing and money. The ascent and the very
tedions descent of the Kasrik Kala Pass brought us into
the large and fertile plain of Haizdar, the “ plain of the
Armenians,” sprinkled with Armenian villages, and much
cultivated.

Mirza and one zajptieh had gone back for a blanket
which had been dropped, and after halting in an orchard
till I was half-frozen I decided to proceed without them,
having understood that we could reach Van in three hours.
I started my party by signs, and after an hour’s riding
reached a village where Johannes spoke fluently in an
unknown tongue, and the zajptieh held up five fingers,
which I learned too late meant that Van was five hours
off. I thought that they were asking for instructions,
and at every pause I repeated Van.

Af ter a brief consultation we went up among the
hills, the young Kurdish Jcatirgi jumping, yelling, singing,
and howling, to keep his mules at a trot, the zaptieh
urging them with his whip, and pointing ominously at
the fast sinking sun. On we clattered with much noise,
nor did we slacken speed till we gained a high altitude
among desert solitudes, from which we looked down upon
the Dead Sea of Van, a sheet of water extending in one
direction beyond the limits of vision, lying red and
weird, with high mountains jutting into it in lofty head¬
lands hovered over by flame-coloured clouds. High up
along the mountain side in a wavy line lay the path to
Van in the deepening shadows, and the zajptieh, this time
holding up three fingers, still urged on the caravan, and
the Kurd responded by yells and howls, dancing and
jumping like a madman.

Just as it was becoming dark, four mounted men, each
armed with two guns, rode violently among the mules,
which were in front of me, and* attempted to drive them
off. In the m&Ue the haiirgi was knocked down. The

LETTER XXX

AEEIVAL AT VAN

333

zaptieh jumped off his horse, threw the bridle to me, and
shouldered his rifle. When they saw the Government
uniform these Kurds drew back, let the mules go, and
passed on. The whole affair took but a few seconds,
but it was significant of the unwillingness of the Kurds
to come into collision with the Turks, and of the power
the Government could exercise in the disturbed districts
if it were once understood that the marauders were not
to be allowed a free hand.

After this attack not a word was spoken, the bells
were taken off the mules, the zaptieh , as fine and soldierly
a man as one could wish to see, marched in front, quiet
and vigilant, and so in a darkness in which I could not
see my horse’s ears we proceeded till, three hours later, the
moon rose as we entered Yan. It was one of the eeriest
rides I ever made, and I had many painful reflections on
having risked through ignorance the property of my
faithful Kurdish katirgi. The first light of Yan was a
welcome sight, though after that there was a long ride to
“ the gardens,” a large wooded suburb chiefly inhabited
by Armenians, in which the American missionaries live.
Dr. Reynolds, the medical missionary, has given me a
most hospitable welcome, though his small house is more
than full with new arrivals from America. I wanted to re¬
engage my jolly katirgi for Bitlis, but he went back at once
with the zaptieh , and after the obvious perils of the road
it would not have been fair to detain him. Visitors are
scarce here. Yan does not see more than one non-official
European in three years. The Vice-Consul says that he
should have doubted the sanity of any one who had pro¬
posed to travel from Urmi to Yan by the route I took,
but now that the journey is safely over I am glad that no
one at Urmi knew enough to dissuade me from it. The
Vice-Consul and all the mission party are as kind as they
can be, and Yan is for me another oasis. I. L. B.

334

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN

LETTER XXXI

LETTER XXXI

Van , 1 Armenia, Nov. 4.

Van and its surroundings are at once so interesting
and picturesque that it is remarkable that they are
comparatively seldom visited by travellers. Probably

1 Van may be considered the capital of that part of Kurdistan which we
know as Armenia, but it must be remembered that under the present
Government of Turkey Armenia is a prohibited name, and has ceased to
be “a geographical expression.” Cyclopaedias containing articles on
Armenia, and school books with any allusions to Armenian history, or to
the geography of any district referred to as Armenia, are not allowed to
enter Asia Minor, and no foreign maps which contain the province of
Armenia are allowed to be used in the foreign schools, or even to be re¬
tained in the country. Of the four millions of the Armenian race 2,500,000
are subjects of the Sultan, and with few exceptions are distinguished for
their loyalty and their devotion to peaceful pursuits.

The portion of Armenia which lies within the Turkish frontier consists
for the most part of table-lands from 5000 to 6000 feet in elevation, inter¬
sected by mountain ranges and watered by several rivers, the principal of
which are the Euphrates, the Tigris, and the Aras. Of its many lakes
the Dead Sea of Van is the principal, its dimensions being estimated
at twice the area of the Lake of Geneva, and at eighty miles in length
by twenty-five in breadth. From its exquisitely beautiful shores rise the
two magnificent extinct volcanoes, the Sipan Dagh, with an altitude of
over 12,000 feet, and the Nimrud Dagh, with a crater five miles in diameter
and 1600 feet in depth, the top of its wall being over 9000 feet in height.

The Armenians claim an antiquity exceeding that of any other nation,
and profess to trace their descent from Haik, the son of Togarmah, the
grandson of Japhet, who fled from the tyranny of Belus, King of Assyria,
into the country which in the Armenian tongue is known by his name, as
Eailch or Eaizdani. It may be said of the Armenians that the splendour
and misery of their national history exceed those of any other race.

LETTER XXXI

A MORAL MODEL

335

the insecurity of the roads, the villainous accommoda¬
tion en route , and its isolated position account for the
neglect. 1 Here as elsewhere I am much impressed
with the excellence of the work done by the American
missionaries, who are really the lights of these dark
places, and by their exemplary and honourable lives
furnish that moral model and standard of living which
is more efficacious than preaching in lifting up the lives
of a people sunk in the depths of a grossly corrupted
Christianity. The boys 5 and girls 5 schools in Yan are on
an excellent basis, and are not only turning out capable
men and women, but are stimulating the Armenians to

Their national church claims an older than an apostolic foundation, and
historically dates from the third century, its actual founder, S. Gregory
the Illuminator, having been consecrated at Caesarea as Bishop of Armenia
in the second year of the fourth century. In the' fifteenth century a schism
brought about by Jesuit missionaries resulted in a number of Armenians
joining the Church of Rome, and becoming later a separate community
known as the “Catholic Armenian Church.” Within the last half-century,
under the teaching of the American missionaries, a Reformed Church has
arisen, known as the Protestant Armenian Church, but with these exceptions
the race and the national church may be regarded as one. The Armenians
have had no political existence since the year 1604, but form an element
of stability and’ wealth in Turkey, Russia, and Persia, where they are
principally found.

Their language is regarded by scholars as an off-shoot of the Iranian
branch of the Indo-Germanic group of languages. Their existing literature
dates from the fourth century, and all that is not exclusively Christian has
perished. Translations of the Old and New Testaments dating from the
fifth century are among its oldest monuments, and the dialect in which
they are written, and in which they are still read in the churches, known
as Old Armenian, is not now understood by the people. During the last
century there has been a great revival of letters among the Armenians,
chiefly due to the McTchitarists of Venice, and a literature in modern
Armenian is rapidly developing alongside of the study and publication of
the works of the ancient writers.

1 It has, however, received due attention both from scholars and anti¬
quaries, and among the popularly-written accounts of it are very interest¬
ing chapters in Sir A. H. Layard’s Nineveh and Babylon , and in a charm¬
ing volume by the Rev. H. F. Tozer, Turkish Armenia and Eastern Asia
Minor .

336

JOUKNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxi

raise the teaching and tone of their own schools in the
city, with one of which I was very greatly pleased. The
creation of churches, strict in their discipline, and pro¬
testing against the mass of superstitions which smother
all spiritual life in the National Armenian Church, is un¬
doubtedly having a very salutary effect far beyond the
limited membership, and is tending to force, reform upon
an ancient church which contains within herself the
elements of resurrection. Great honour is due to Dr.
Reynolds for the way in which, almost single-handed, he
has kept the valuable work of this Mission going for
years, and now that colleagues have arrived a consider¬
able development may be hoped for.

I have confessed already to a prejudice against the
Armenians, but it is not possible to deny that they are
the most capable, energetic, enterprising, and pushing race
in Western Asia, physically superior, and intellectually
acute, and above all they are a race which can be raised
in all respects to our own level, neither religion, colour,
customs, nor inferiority in intellect or force constituting
any barrier between us. Their shrewdness and aptitude
for business are remarkable, and whatever exists of com¬
mercial enterprise in Eastern Asia Minor is almost alto¬
gether in their hands. They have singular elasticity, as
their survival as a church and nation shows, and I cannot
but think it likely that they may have some share in
determining the course of events in the East, both
politically and religiously. As Orientals they understand
Oriental character and modes of thought as we never can,
and if a new Pentecostal afflatus were to fall upon the edu¬
cated and intelligent young men who are beings trained in
the colleges which the American churches have scattered
liberally through Asia Minor, the effect upon Turkey
would be marvellous. I think most decidedly that
reform in Turkey must come through Christianity, and

letter XXXI OBSTACLES TO PKOGBESS

337

in this view the reform and enlightenment of the reli¬
gion which has such a task before it are of momentous
importance.

Islam is “cabined, cribbed, confined.” Its forms
of belief and thought and its social and political ideas
remain in the moulds into which they were run at its
rise. Expansion is impossible. The arrogance which
the Koran inculcates and fosters is a dead weight on
progress. If the Turk had any disposition to initiate
and carry out reforms his creed and its traditions would
fetter him. Islam, with its fanaticism, narrowness, ob¬
structiveness, and grooviness is really at this moment
the greatest obstacle to every species of advance both
in Turkey and Persia, and its present activity and
renewed proselytising spirit are omens of evil as much
for political and social progress as for the higher life
of men.

The mission houses and schools are on fairly high
ground more than two miles from Van, in what are
known as “the Gardens,” where most of the well-to-do
Armenians and Turkish officials reside. These gardens,
filled with vineyards and all manner of fruit trees, extend
for a distance of five miles, and being from two to three
miles wide their mass of greenery has a really beautiful
effect. Among them are many very good houses, and
the roads and alleys by which they are intersected are
well planted with poplars and willows, shading pleasant
streams which supply the water for irrigation.

The view from the roof is a glorious one. Looking
west over the gardens, which are now burning with
autumn tints, the lofty crests of the huge crater of
Nimrud Eagh are always visible across the lake of Van,
intensely blue in the morning, and reddening in the
sunsets of flame and gold. In the evenings too, the
isolated rock on which the castle of Van is built bulks
VOL. II z

338

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xsxi

as a violet mass against tlie sinking sun, with a fore¬
ground of darkening greenery. The great truncated cone
of the Sipan Dagh looms grandly over the lake to the
north; to the east the rocky mass of the Yarak Dagh, with
white villages and monasteries in great numbers lying
in its clefts and folds, rises precipitously to a height of
10,500 feet; and to the south the imposing peaks of
Ardost, now crested with snow, and Mount Pelu, pro¬
jecting into the lake, occupy prominent positions above
the lower groups and ridges.

The town of Yan is nearly a mile from the lake, and
is built on an open level space, in the midst of which
stands a most picturesque and extraordinary rock which
rises perpendicularly to a height of about 300 feet. It
falls abruptly at both extremities, and its outline, which
Colonel Severs Bell estimates at 1900 yards in length,
is emphasised by battlemented walls, several towers, and
a solitary minaret rising above the picturesque irregularity
of the ancient fortifications. Admission to the interior of
the castle is refused, consequently I have not seen the
chambers in the rock, supposed to have been the tombs of
kings. The most celebrated of the cuneiform inscriptions
cut on tablets smoothed in the rock is on the south side
in an inaccessible position, and was with difficulty copied
by the murdered traveller Schulz with the aid of a
telescope. It is well seen from below, looking, as has
been remarked, like an open copy of a newspaper. Like
the tablets of Persepolis and Mount Elwend, it relates in
august language the titles and deeds of Xerxes.

The founding of Yan is ascribed to Semiramis, who,
according to Armenian history, named it Shemiramagerd,
and was accustomed to resort to its gardens, which
she had herself planted and watered, to escape from the
fierce heat of the summer at Nineveh. The well of
Semiramis and other works attributed to her bring her

ROCK AND CITADEL OF VAN. To face p, 338 , Vol, II,

LETTER XXXI

GROWING TRADE

339

name frequently into conversation—indeed she is men¬
tioned as familiarly as Queen Elizabeth is among us!

The town, which is walled, is not particularly attract¬
ive, but there is one very handsome mosque, and a very
interesting Armenian church, eleven centuries old, dedi¬
cated to St. Peter and St. Paul. The houses are mean¬
looking, but their otherwise shabby uniformity is broken
up by lattice windows. The bazars are poorly built, but
are clean, well supplied, and busy, though the trade of
Van is suffering from the general insecurity of the
country and the impoverishment of the peasantry. It is
very pleasant that in the Van bazars ladies can walk
about freely, encountering neither the hoots of boys nor
the petrifying Islamic scowl.

Fifty years ago Vene¬
tian beads were the only
articles imported from
Europe. Now, owing to
the increasing enterprise
of the Armenians, every
European necessary of
life can be obtained, as
well as many luxuries.

Peek and Frean’s biscuits,

Moir’s and Crosse and
Blackwell’s tinned meats
and jams, English patent
medicines, Coats’ sewing
cotton, Belfast linens, Ber¬
lin wools, Jaeger’s vests,
and all sorts of materials, both cotton and woollen?
abound. I did not see such a choice and abundance
of European goods in any bazar in Persia, and in the city
of Semiramis, and beneath the tablet of Xerxes, there is
a bazar devoted to Armenian tailors, and to the clatter

340

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN

LETTER XXXI

of American sewing machines stitching Yorkshire cloth!
One of these tailors has made a heavy cloth ulster for
me, which the American ladies pronounce perfect in fit
and “ style! ”

The Armenians, with their usual industry and thrift,
are always enlarging their commerce and introducing
new imports. Better than this, they are paying great
attention to education, and several of their merchants
seem to be actuated by a liberal and enlightened spirit.
It is, however, to usury not less than to trade that they
owe their prosperity. The presence of Europeans
in Van, in the persons of the missionaries and vice-
consuls, in addition to the admirable influence exerted
by the former, has undoubtedly a growing tendency
towards ameliorating the condition of the Christian
population.

In the vilayet of Van it is estimated by Colonel Severs
Bell that the Christians outnumber the Moslems by
80,000, the entire population being estimated at 340,000.
In the city of Yan, with a population estimated by him
at 32,000, the Christians are believed to be as 3 to l. 1

The formalities required for Turkish travelling are
many and increasing, and from ignorance of one of them
Johannes has been arrested, and Mirza marched to the
Consulate by the police. I have been obliged to part
with the former and send him back to Hamadan, as it
would not be safe to take the risky journey to Erzerum
with such an inexperienced and untrustworthy servant.
Through Mr. Devey’s kindness I have obtained an
interpreter and servant in. Murphy O’Rourke, a British
subject, but a native of Turkey, and equally at home in
English, Turkish, and Armenian, though totally illiterate.

I. L. B.

1 An estimate by Mr. Devey, Her Britannic Majesty’s Vice-Consul at
Van, gives a population of only 250,000 for the whole vilayet.

LETTER XXXII

LAKE VAN

341

LETTER XXXII

Bitlis, Nov . 10.

I arrived here two days ago, having ridden the ninety
miles from Yan in three and a half days. Dr. Reynolds
accompanied me, and as we had a couple of za/ptiehs on
good horses we deserted the caravan, and came along at
as good a pace as the mountainous nature of the road
would allow. The early winter weather is absolutely
perfect for travelling. All along I am quite impressed
with the resemblance which the southern shores of Lake
Yan bear to some of the most beautiful parts of the
Italian Riviera—Italian beauty seen under an Italian
sky. Travellers lose a great deal by taking the easier
route round the north shore of the lake.

The first day’s half march ended at Angugh, an
Armenian village on the river Haslial, on the plain of
Haizdar or Haigatsor, where the people complained of some
Armenian women having been despoiled of their jewels
by some Kurds during the afternoon. The views are
magnificent en route , especially of the Christian village of
Artemid, on a spur on a height, with a Moslem village
in gardens below, with green natural lawns sloping to
the lake. At Angugh I was well accommodated in a
granary on a roof, and as there was no room for my bed,
found a comfortable substitute in a blanket spread upon
the wheat. The next day’s inarch was through ex¬
quisitely beautiful scenery, partly skirting deep bays on
paths cut in the rock above them, among oaks and ferns,

342

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxii

and partly crossing high steep promontories which jut
out into the lake. A few villages, where strips of level
ground and water for irrigation can be obtained, are
passed, and among them the village of Vastan, the “ Seat
of Government 55 for the district, and a Turkish telegraph
station, but in the eleventh century the residence of the
Armenian royal family of Ardzrauni.

Art aids nature, and there are grand old monasteries
on promontories, and Kurdish castles on heights, and
flashing streams and booming torrents are bridged by
picturesque pointed arches. There are 150 monasteries
in this region, and the towers of St. George at the
mountain village of Narek, high on a rocky spur above
one of the most beautiful of the many wooded valleys
which descend upon the lake of Van, lend an air of
medieval romance to a scene as fair as nature can make
it. Nearly all the romantic valleys opening on the lake
are adorned with one or more villages, with houses tier
above tier in their rocky clefts, and terrace below terrace
of exquisite cultivation below, of the vivid velvety green
of winter wheat. These terraces often “hang” above
green sward and noble walnut trees. Occasionally the
villages are built at the feet of the mountains, on small
plateaux above steep-sided bays, and are embosomed in
trees glowing with colour, from canary-yellow to crimson
and madder-red, and mountains, snow-crested and forest-
skirted tower over all. Lake Van, bluer than the blue
heavens, with its huge volcanic heights—Sipan Dagh,
Nimrud Dagh, and Varak Dagh, and their outlying
ranges—its deep green bays and quiet wooded inlets;
its islets, some like the Bass Bock, others monastery-
covered ; its pure green shadows and violet depths; its
heavy boats with their V-shaped sails; and its auburn
oak-covered slopes, adds its own enchantment, and all is
as fair as fair can be.

letter xxxii THE ROCK OE AKHTAMAR

343

Though the state of things among the Christians is
not nearly so bad as in some of the Syrian valleys,
the shadow of the Kurd is over this paradise. The
Armenians complain of robbery with violence as being
of constant occurrence, and that they have been plundered
till they are unable to pay the taxes, and it is obvious
that travellers, unless in large companies, are hot safe
without a Government escort. * In each village the common
sheepfold is guarded from sunset to sunrise by a number
of men—a heavy burden on villagers whose taxation
should ensure them sufficient protection from marauders.

In one of the fairest bays on this south side of the
lake is the island rock of Akhtamar, crowned with a
church and monastery built of red sandstone. The
convent boat, which plies daily to the mainland for
supplies, is available for travellers. Eleven monks with
their pupils inhabit the rock. It is a very ancient
foundation, dating from a.d. 633, and the church is
attributed to the Armenian King Kakhik, who reigned in
the tenth century. It is a cruciform building, with a
hexagonal tower and a conical terminal at the inter¬
section of the cross. The simple interior is decorated
with some very rude pictures, and a gilded throne for the
Patriarch stands at the east end. This Patriarchate of
Akhtamar, the occupant of which has at times claimed
the title of Catholicos , was founded in 1113 by an arch¬
bishop of Akhtamar who declared himself independent of
the Catholicos of the Armenian Church who resides in
Echmiadzin, but at the present time he has only a few
adherents in the immediate neighbourhood of Van, and
has the reputation of extreme ignorance, and of being
more of a farmer than an ecclesiastic. He was at
Haikavank, at the fine farm on the mainland possessed
by the convent, but we had not time to call.

Plain as is the interior of the Church of Akhtamar,

344

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxii

the exterior is most elaborately ornamented with bas-
reliefs, very much undercut. Three of the roofs rest on
friezes on which birds and beasts in singularly vigorous
action are portrayed, and there are besides two rows of
heads in high relief, and a number of scripture subjects
very boldly treated, in addition to some elaborate scroll¬
work, and bands of rich foliage. On this remarkable
rock Dr. Reynolds and his family took refuge a few
years ago, when it was apprehended that Van would be
sacked by the Kurds.

The vivid colouring of the lake is emphasised by a
line of pure white deposit which runs round its margin,
and vivacity is given to its waters by innumerable wild
fowl, flamingoes, geese, ducks, pelicans, cormorants, etc.
From a reedy swamp near it ducks rose in such numbers
as literally to darken the air. Carbonate of soda and
chloride of sodium are obtained from the lake water
by evaporation, but it is not nearly so salt as that of
the Sea of Urmi. Not very far from the south shore a
powerful fresh-water spring bubbles up in the midst of
the salt water. The only fish known of is a species
said to be like a small herring. These are captured in
enormous quantities in the spring as they come up into
the streams which feed the lake.

On the last two nights at Undzag and Ghazit I had
my first experiences of the Turkish odah or village guest¬
house or khan, of which, as similar abodes will be my lodg¬
ings throughout my journey to Erzerum, I will try to give
you an idea. Usually partially excavated in the hillside
and partly imbedded in the earth, the odah is a large
rambling room with an irregular roof supported on rough
tree-stems. In the centre, or some other convenient
place, is a mud platform slightly raised; in the better
class of odahs this has a fireplace in the wall at one end.
Round this on three sides is a deep manger, and similar

LETTER XXXII

A TURKISH OB AH

345

mangers run along the side walls and into the irregular
recesses, which are lost in the darkness. The platform is
for human beings, and the rest of the building for horses,
mules, oxen, asses, and buffaloes, with a few sheep and
goats probably in addition. The katirgis and the humbler
class of travellers sleep among the beasts, the remainder,
without distinction of race, creed, or sex, on the enclosed
space. Light enters from the door and from a few
small holes in the roof, which are carefully corked up at
night, and then a few iron cups of oil with wicks, the
primitive lamp in general use, hanging upon the posts,
give forth a smoky light.

In such an odah there may be any number of human
beings cooking, eating, and sleeping, and from twenty to
a hundred animals, or more, as well as the loads of the
pack-horses and the arms of the travellers. As the eye
becomes accustomed to the smoke and dimness, it sees
rows of sweet ox faces, with mild eyes and moist nostrils,
and wild horse faces surrounding the enclosure, and any
number more receding into the darkness. Ceaseless
munching goes on, and a neigh or a squeal from some
unexpected corner startles one, or there is a horse fight,
which takes a number of men to quell it. Each animal
is a “ living stove,” and the heat and closeness are so in¬
supportable that one awakes quite unrefreslied in the
morning in a temperature of 80°. The odah is one of
the great features of travelling in Eastern Asia Minor. I
dined and spent the evenings in its warmth and cheeri¬
ness, enjoying its wild picturesqueness, but at Undzag I
pitched my small tent at the stable door, and at Ghazit
on the roof, and braved the cold in it.

Boy is usually close to me, eating scraps from my
dinner, and gently biting the back of my neck when he
thinks that I am forgetting his presence. He amuses all
the men everywhere by his affectionateness, and eating

346

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxii

out of my hand, and following me like a dog. I never
saw so gentle and trustworthy a creature. His hair has
grown very long, thick, and woolly, and curls in parts
like that of a retriever. His sweet ways have provided
him with a home after his powerful legs and big feet
have trudged with me to Trebizond, for my hosts here,
who are old and somewhat frail, have taken such a fancy
to his gentleness and winsomeness that he is to return
to them when the roads open in the spring.

It was a grand ride from Undzag over lofty moun¬
tain passes to the exquisitely-situated village of Ghazit,
built in a deep cul de sac above the lake. Ter¬
races, one above another, rise from the lake shore, so
beautifully cultivated as to realise Emerson’s description
of the appearance of English soil, “ Tilled with a pencil
instead of a plough.” A church stands on a height, and
the village, almost hidden among magnificent walnuts, is
crowded upon a terrace of green sward at the foot of a
semicircle of mountains which wall it in from the world.
The narrow village road, with its low, deep-eaved stone
houses, was prettily brightened by colour, for all the
women were dressed more or less in red, and wore high
red coronets with dependent strings of coins, and broad
aprons, reaching from the throat to the feet, of coarse
dark blue cotton, completely covered with handsome
patterns worked in cross-stitch in silk.

Fine walnut trees are one of the specialities of this part
of Turkey. They provide much of the oil which is used
during the long fasts which both Armenians and Syrians
observe, and they develop very large woody excrescences
or knots, the grain and mottling of which are peculiarly
beautiful. These are sought for by buyers for Paris
houses even in the remote valleys of Kurdistan for use
in the making and veneering of furniture, especially of
pianos. Fortunately the removal of this growth does not

LETTER XXXII

A FALSE ALARM

347

kill the tree, and after a time the bark grows over much
of the uncovered portion of the trunk, only a scar being
left.

At sunset that evening 800 sheep were driven into
the village sheepfold just below the roof on which my
tent was pitched, and it was a very picturesque scene,
men pushing their way through them to find their own
sheep by ear-mark, women with 'difficulty milking ewes
here and there, big dogs barking furiously from the roofs
above, and all the sheep bleating at once. In winter they
are all housed and hand fed. The snow lies six feet
deep, and Ghazit can communicate neither with Bitlis
nor Van. It is the “ milk of the flocks ” which is prized.
Cows’ milk is thought but little of. I made my supper
of one of the great articles of diet in Turkey, boiled
cracked wheat, sugar, and yohoort , artificially soured milk,
looking like whipped cream.

I was glad to escape to my tent from the heat and
odours of the odah, even though I had to walk over sheep’s
backs to get up to the roof. I had a guard of two men,
and eight more armed with useless matchlock guns
watched the sheepfold. I was awakened by a tremendous
noise, the barking of infuriated dogs close to me, the
clashing of arms and the shouts of men, mixed up with
the rapid firing of guns not far off on the mountain side,
so near, indeed, that I could see the flashes. It was a
Kurdish alarm, but nothing came of it. A village which
we passed a few hours later was robbed of 600 sheep,
however.

Leaving beautiful Ghazit before the sun rose upon it
the next morning, we spent some hours in skirting the
lake, and in crossing elevated passes and following paths
along hillsides covered with oaks, the russet leaves of
which are being cut for winter “keep.” The dwarf
juniper is also abundant. After crossing a pass on the

348

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxii

top of which are graves covered with heavy stone slabs
with inscriptions on their sides, and head-stones eight
feet high inscribed with epitaphs in Kufic or early Arabic,
we descended upon the great plain of Rahwan, separated
from the plain of Mush only by a very low ridge, which,
however, is a remarkable water-parting, dividing the
drainage systems of the Tigris and the Euphrates. On
this solitary plain there are the ruins of a magnificent
building, known as “ the Persian Khan,” built of large
blocks of hewn stone. Parts of it are still available
for shelter during snowstorms. It has courtyards with
stately entrances, domes, arches, and vaulted chambers,
and is a very striking object. Two other khans are
placed as refuges in the valley nearer Bitlis.

Shortly afterwards we reached the meeting-place of
three valleys and three roads, leading respectively to the
plain of Mush, the lake of Van, and Bitlis. It is in
this neighbourhood that the eastern source of the Tigris
is situated, and here there is also the great interest of
coming upon one of the landmarks on the retreat of the
Ten Thousand. Scholars appear to agree in general that
this gallant band must have come up by these eastern
sources of the Tigris, for then, as now, the only practicable
entrance into Armenia from the Karduchi territory, the
modern Kurdistan, was by this route. 1

The march was very long and fatiguing, and as we

1 It does not present any difficulty to me that Xenophon omits all
mention of the lake of Van, for a range of hills lies between it and the
road. I have travelled over the track twice, and failed to see anything
in the configuration of the country which would have led me to suppose
that the region to the eastward was anything hut a continuity of ranges of
hills and mountains, and if the Ten Thousand took the route from the
eastern head-waters of the Tigris to the Murad-chai at the farther end of
the plain of Mush, directing all their investigations and inquiries in a
westerly direction, there are very many chances against their having been
informed, even by their prisoners, of the existence of the sea of Van.

letter xxxii THE VALLEY OF BITLIS

349

were compelled to rest for two hours at the beautifully-
situated village of Toogh, evening was coming on with a
gray sky and a lurid sunset before we left the Bahwan
plain, after which we had a ride of more than three hours
down the wild and stony Bitlis valley before we reached
our destination. If I had made this march in spring,
when herbage and flowers drape the nakedness of
the rocky and gravelly mountains and precipices, it
would not have made such an impression upon me as it
did, but seeing the apparently endless valley for ever
winding and falling to the south, with two bars of lurid
light for ever lying across what never proved to be its
opening, and the higher peaks rising snow-crested into a
dark and ominous-looking sky, I think it one of the
weirdest and wildest rides I ever took.

The infant Tigris is rapidly augmented by a number of
streams and torrents. The descent was like taking leave
of the bright upper world to go down into some nether
region, from which there would be no exit. The valley,
at times narrowing into a ravine, is hemmed in by sterile
mountains, so steep as not to afford sites for villages.
There are parapetless ancient arches of stone, flung across
torrents which have carved hideous pathways for them¬
selves through hideous rocks, scoriae, and other signs of
volcanic action, rough gulches, with narrow paths hang¬
ing on their sides, and in spite of many climbs upwards
the course is on the whole downwards.

Darkness settled upon the valley long before lights,
in what looked like infinite depths, and straggling up
remarkable heights, trees, stone walls, and such steep
ups and downs that it felt as if the horses were going to
topple over precipices, denoted that we had entered Bitlis.
Then came a narrow gateway, a flagged courtyard choked
with mules and men, a high house with heavily-barred
windows, a steep outside stair, and at the top sweet faces

350

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxii

and sweet voices of European women, and lights and
warm welcomes.

Bitlis , November 12 .—This is the most romantically-
situated city that I have seen in Western Asia. The dreamy
impressions of height and depth received on the night of
my arrival were more than realised the following morning.
Even to the traveller arriving by daylight Bitlis must
come as a great surprise, for it is situated in a hole upon
which the upper valley descends with a sudden dip.
The Bitlis-chai or Eastern Tigris passes through it in a
series of raging cataracts, and is joined in the middle of
the town by another torrent tumbling down another wild
valley, and from this meeting of the waters massive stone
houses rise one above another, singly, and in groups and
terraces, producing a singularly striking effect. Five
valleys appear to unite in Bitlis and to radiate from
a lofty platform of rock supported on precipices, the
irregular outlines of which are emphasised by walls and
massive square and circular towers, the gigantic ruins
of Bitlis Castle.

The massiveness of the houses is remarkable, and
their courtyards and gardens are enclosed by strong
walls. Every gate is strengthened and studded with
iron, every window is heavily barred, all are at a consider¬
able height, and every house looks as if it could stand
a siege. There is no room to spare; the dwellings are
piled tier above tier, and the flagged footways in front
of them hang on the edges of precipices. Twenty
picturesque stone bridges, each one of a single arch,
span the Tigris and the torrents which unite with it.
There are ancient ruins scattered through the town.
It claims immense antiquity, and its inhabitants ascribe
its castle and some of its bridges to Alexander the Great,
but antiquarians attribute the former either to the
Saracens or to the days when an ancient Armenian city

LETTER XXXII

THE TRADE OF BITLIS

351

called Paghesh occupied the site of the present Bitlis.
It seems like the end of the world, though through the
deep chasms below it, through which the Tigris descends
with great rapidity to the plains, lies the highway to
Diabekir. Suggestions of the ancient world abound.
The lofty summits towering above the basin in which
this extraordinary city lies are the termination of the
Taurus chain, the hTiphates of the ancients, on the highest
peak of which Milton localised the descent of Satan. 1

Remote as Bitlis seems and is, its markets are among
the busiest in Turkey, and its caravan traffic is enormous
for seven or eight months of the year. Its altitude is
only 4700 feet, and the mercury in winter rarely falls to
zero, but the snowfall is tremendous, and on the Rahwan
Plain snow frequently lies up to the top of the telegraph
poles, isolating the town and shutting up animals in their
stables and human beings in their houses for weeks, and
occasionally months, at a time. Bitlis produces a very
coarse, heavy cotton cloth which, after being dyed madder
red or dark blue, is largely exported, and is used for the
embroidered aprons which the Armenian women wear.
It also exports loupes , the walnut whorls or knots of
which I have written before, oak galls, wax, wool, and
manna, chiefly collected from the oak. The Bitlis
people, and even some Europeans, regard this as a
deposit left by the aromatic exhalations which the wind
brings in this direction from Arabia, and they say that it
lies on any plant without regard to its nature, and even
on the garments of men. The deposit is always greatest
in dry years. In addition to the white manna, obtained
by drying the leaves and allowing the saccharine matter to
fall off—and the green, the result of steeping the leaves in
water, which is afterwards strained, there is a product much
like golden syrup, which is used for the same purposes.

1 Paradise Lost , iii. 741, “Nor stayed, till on Niphates’ top lie lights.”

352 JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxii

Bitlis is one of the roughest and most fanatical and
turbulent of Turkish cities, but the present Governor,
Raouf Pasha, is a man of energy, and has reduced the
town and neighbourhood to some degree of order.
Considerable bodies of troops have been brought in, and
the garrison consists of 2500 men. These soldiers are
thoroughly well clothed and equipped, and look remark¬
ably clean in dress and person. They are cheery,
soldierly-looking men, and their presence gives a little
confidence to the Christians.

The population of Bitlis is estimated at 30,000, of
which number over 20,000 are Kurds. Both men and
women are very handsome, and the striking Kurdish
costume gives a great brilliancy and picturesqueness to
this remarkable city. The short sleeveless jackets of
sheepskin with the black wool outside which the men are
now wearing over their striped satin vests, and the silver
rings in the noses of the girls give them something of a
“ barbarian ” look, and indeed their habits appear to be
much the same as those of their Karduchi ancestors in the
days of Xenophon, except that in the interval they have
become Moslems and teetotallers ! Here they are Sunnis,
and consequently do not clash with their neighbours the
Turks, who abhor the Kurds of the mountains as Kizil-
bashes. The Kurdish physique is very fine. In fact I
have never seen so handsome a people, and their manly
and highly picturesque costume heightens the favour¬
able effect produced by their well-made, lithe, active
figures.

The cast of their features is delicate and somewhat
sharp; the mouth is small and well formed ; the teeth are
always fine and white; the face is oval; the eyebrows
curved and heavy; the eyelashes long; the eyes deep set,
intelligent, and roving; the nose either straight or de¬
cidedly aquiline, giving a hawk-like expression; the chin

LETTER XXXII

KURDISH CLOTHING

353

slightly receding; the brow broad and clear; the hands
and feet remarkably small and slender.

The women when yonng are beautiful, but hard work
and early maternity lead to a premature loss of form,
and to a withered angularity of feature which is far from
pleasing, and which, as they do not veil, is always en
Evidence.

The poorer Kurds wear woollen socks of gay and
elaborate patterns; cotton shoes like the gheva of the
Persians; camlet trousers, wide at the bottom like those
of sailors; woollen girdles of a Kashmir shawl pattern;
short jackets and felt jerkins without sleeves. The
turban usually worn is peculiar. Its foundation is a
peaked felt cap, white or black, with a loosely-twisted
rope of tightly - twisted silk, wool, or cotton wound
round it. In the girdle the klianjar is always seen.
Over it the cartridge belt is usually worn, or two
cartridge belts are crossed over the chest and back.
The girdle also carries the pipe and tobacco pouch, a long
knife, a flint and steel, and in some cases a shot pouch
and a highly-ornamented powder horn.

The richer Kurds dress like the Syrians. The under¬
garment, which shows considerably at the chest and at
the long and hanging sleeves, is of striped satin, either
crimson and white or in a combination of brilliant
colours, over which is worn a short jacket of cloth or silk,
also with long sleeves, the whole richly embroidered in
gold. Trousers of striped silk or satin, wide at the
bottom; loose medieval boots of carnation-red leather; a
girdle fastened with knobbed clasps of silver as large as
a breakfast cup, frequently incrusted with turquoises; red
felt skull-caps, round which they wind laTge striped
silk shawls, red, blue, orange, on a white or black ground,
with long fringed ends hanging over the shoulders, and
floating in the wind as they gallop; and in their girdles
VOL. ii 2 a

354

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter ttttt

they carry richly-jewelled khanjars and pistols decorated
with silver knobs, besides a number of other glittering
appointments. The accoutrements of the horses are in
keeping, and at marriages and other festivities the
head-stalls, bridles, and breast-plates are completely
covered with pendent silver coins.

The dress of the women is a foil to that of their lords.
It consists of a blue cotton shirt; very wide trousers,
drawn in at the ankles; a silver saucer on the head, from
which chains depend with a coin at the end of each; a
square mantle hanging down the back, clasped by two
of its corners round the neck, and many strings of coins
round the throat; a small handkerchief is knotted round
the hair, and in presence of a strange man they hold one
end of this over the mouth. The Turks in Bitlis are
in a small minority, and the number of Armenian
Christians is stated at from 2000 to 5000. The Old
Church has a large monastery outside the town and
several churches and schools. The Protestant Armenians
have a substantial church edifice, with a congregation
of about 400, and large boarding-schools for boys and
girls.

The population is by far the wildest that I have seen
in any Asiatic city, and is evidently only restrained from
violence by the large garrison. It is not safe for the
ladies of this mission to descend into the Moslem part of
the city, and in a residence of more than twenty years
they have never even passed through the bazars. The
missionaries occupy a restricted and uncertain position,
and the Armenian Christians are subject to great de¬
privations and restraints, and are distrusted by the
Government. Of late they have been much harassed by
the search for arms, and Christian gunsmiths have been
arrested. Even their funeral ceremonies are not exempt
from the presence of the police, who profess to believe

LETTER XXXII THE BITLIS MISSIONARIES

355

that firearms are either carried in the place of a corpse
or are concealed along with it. Placed in the midst of
a preponderating and fully-armed Kurdish population,
capable at any moment of being excited to frenzy against
their faith, they live in expectation of a massacre,
should certain events take place which are regarded as
probable within two or three years.

It was not to see the grandeur and picturesqueness of
Bitlis that I came here so late in the season, but to visit
the American missionaries, especially two ladies. My
hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Knapp, have returned from a visit
to America to spend their last days in a country which
has been their home for thirty years, and have lately
been joined by their son, who spent his boyhood in Bitlis,
and after graduating in an American university has come
back, like so many sons of missionaries, to cast in his lot
with a people to whom he is bound by many links of
sympathy, bringing his wife with him. The two Misses

-, who are more than half English, and are highly

educated and accomplished, met Mr. and Mrs. Knapp
long ago in a steamer on the Mediterranean, and decided
to return with them to this dangerous and outlandish
place, where they have worked among the women and
girls for twenty-three years, and are still full of love and
hope. The school for girls, in which fifty boarders are
received in addition to fifty day pupils, has a kinder¬
garten department attached to it. The parents of all are
expected to contribute in money or in kind, but their
increasing poverty is telling on their ability to do so,
and this winter the supply of food contributed by them
is far short of the mark.

The tastefulness and generosity of these ladies have
produced as bright and beautiful a schoolroom as could
be found anywhere, and ivy trained round the windows,
growing plants, and pictures which are not daubs give a

356

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxii

look of home. With them “ Love is the fulfilling of the
law ”—love in every tone, look, and touch, and they have
that true maternity of spirit which turns a school into a
family, and trains as well as educates. They are now
educating the children, and even grandchildren, of their
earliest pupils, and have the satisfaction of seeing how
very much their school has effected in permeating the
household and social relationships of the Armenian
women with the tone of Christian discipleship, so that
one would scarcely hear from the lips of any of their
married pupils the provoking question, “We are only
women, what can we do ? ” Many of them have gone
to homes in the roughest and wildest of mountain
villages, where they sweeten village life by the gentle
and kindly ways acquired in the Bitlis school. These
ladies conduct a mothers’ meeting, and I thought that
the women were much developed in intelligence and
improved in manner as compared with the usual run of
Armenian women. On being asked to address them, I
took* their own words for my text, “We are only women,”
etc., and found them intelligent and sympathetic.

These ladies have endured great hardships, and their
present position is one of continual deprivation and
frequent risk. One of them was so severely stoned in
Bitlis that she fell unconscious from her horse. In the

winter Miss - itinerates among the Armenian

villages of the Mush and Kahwan Plains and the lake
shore, travelling over the crust of the enormously deep
snow in a hand-sled drawn by a man, braving storms
which have nearly cost her her life, sleeping and living
for a month or more at a time chiefly in' odahs, and
fearlessly encountering the very roughest of Kurds and
others in these dim and crowded stables. The danger
of village expeditions, and the difficulty of obtaining
zaptiehs without considerable expense, have increased of

LETTER XXXII

NOBLE LIVES

357

late, and the Mush Plain especially has been ravaged all
the summer and autumn by the Kurds, with many bar¬
barities and much loss of life, so that travelling for
Christians even in companies has been dangerous. Cara¬
vans have lately been attacked and robbed, and in the
case of one large mixed caravan the Christians were
robbed but the Moslems were unmolested. A traveller
was recently treacherously murdered by his Tcatirgis , and

Miss -, having occasion to employ the same men a

few days ago, saw and heard them rehearse his dying
agonies more than once for the amusement of Kurds on
the road.

Luxury is unknown in this mission house. It is so
small that in order to receive me the ladies are sleeping
in a curtained recess in the kitchen, and the reception-
room for the natives is the eating and living room of the
family. Among them all there is a rare devotion, and
lives spent in cheerful obedience to God and in loving
service for man have left on their faces the impress of
“the love which looks kindly and the .wisdom which
looks soberly on all things.” The mission has had a
severe struggle. The life on this mountain slope above
the fanatical city is a very restricted one,—there is
nothing of what we are accustomed to regard as “ neces¬
sary recreation,” and a traveller is not seen here above
once in two or three years. All honour to those who
have courage and faith to live such a life so lovingly
and cheerfully ! I. L. B.

358

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxiii

LETTEK XXXIII

PlKHRUZ, NOV. 14.

I was indeed sorry to leave the charming circle at the
Mission Hpuse and the wild grandeur of Bitlis, but a
certain wan look in the sky and peculiar colouring on
the mountains warned my friends that winter might set
in any day, and Dr. Reynolds arranged for katirgis and
an escort, and obtained a letter from the Governor by
means of which I can procure additional zaptiehs in case
of need. My Turkish katirgi , Moussa, is rich, and full of
fun and jollity. He sings and jokes and mimics Mirza,
rides a fine horse, or sprawls singing on its back, and
keeps every one alive by his energy and vitality. My
loads are very light, and his horses are strong, and by a
peculiar screech he starts them off at a canter with no
other object than the discomfiture of Mirza, who with all
his good qualities will never make a horseman. Unluckily
he has a caravan of forty horses laden with ammunition
for the Government on the road, so things may not be
always so smooth as they are now. Descending by a
track more like a stair than a road, and crossing the
Tigris, my friends, and I performed the feat of riding
through some of the bazars, even though Mr. Knapp and
I had been pelted with stones on an open road the day
before. * There was no molestation, for the people are
afraid of the zaptieTis 9 swords. Bitlis is busy, and it is
difficult to get through its crowded markets, low, narrow.

LETTER XXXIII

GAY BAZARS

359

and dark as they are, the sunbeams rarely entering
through their woven roofs. The stalls were piled with
fruits, roots, strange vegetables, red home-dyed cottons,
gay gear for horses, daggers and silver chains such as
Kurds love, gay Kurdish clothing, red boots with toes
turned up for tying to the knees, pack-saddles, English
cottons (“ Mankester ”), mostly red, and pipes of all kinds.
There was pottery in red and green, huge earthen jars
for the storage of water, brooms, horse-shoes, meat, curds,
cheeses, and everything suited to the needs of a large
and mixed population, and men seated in the shops plied
their curious trades.

Emerging into the full sunlight on the waggon road
to Erzerum, we met strings of girls carrying water-jars
on their backs from the wells, and long trains of asses
and pack-bullocks bringing in produce, mixed up with
foot passengers and Kurds on showy horses. Bitlis
rejoices in abundant streams, wells, fountains, and mineral
springs, some strongly chalybeate, others resembling the
Vichy waters. The grandly picturesque city with its
piled-up houses, its barred windows suggestive of peril,
its colossal ruins, its abounding waters, its bridges, each
one more remarkable than the other, its terraced and
wooded heights and the snow-crested summits which
tower above them, with their cool blue and purple shadows,
disappeared at a turn of the road, and there too my
friends left me to pursue my perilous journey alone.

The day was superb, and full of fine atmospheric
effects. As we crossed the Eahwan Plain the great
mountains to the west were enshrouded in wild drifting
mists, through which now and then peaks and ledges,
white with recent snow, revealed themselves, to be
hidden in blackness the next moment. Over the plain
the blue sky was vaulted, and the sun shone bright and
warm, while above the mountains to the south of Lake

360

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxin

Van white clouds were piled in sunlit masses. After
halting at Tadvan, a pleasant village among streams,
fountains, gardens, and fruit trees, we skirted the lake
along pleasant cultivated slopes and promontories with
deep bays and inlets to G-udzag, where I spent the evening
in an odah , retiring to sleep in my small tent, pitched in
the village, where a big man with a gun, and wearing a
cloak of goatskin reaching to his feet, kept up a big fire
and guarded me till morning. The water froze in my
basin during the night. The odah was full of Armenians,
and Murphy interpreted their innumerable tales* of wrong
and robbery. “ Since the Erzerum troubles,” so the tales
ran, “the Kurds kill men as if they were partridges.”
On asking them why they do not refuse to be robbed by
“ demand,” they replied, “ Because the Kurds bring big
sticks and beat us, and say they will cut our throats.”
They complained of the exactions of the zaptichs and of
being tied to the posts of their houses and beaten when
they have not money wherewith to pay the taxes.

Starting at sunrise on the following morning I had a
very pleasant walk along the sweet shore of the lake,
while water, sky, and mountains were blended in a flood
of rose and gold, after which, skirting a wooded inlet, on
the margin of which the brown roofs of the large village
of Zarak were scarcely seen amidst the crimson foliage,
and crossing a low range, we descended upon a plain at
the head of a broad bay, on the farther side of which,
upon a level breezy height, rose the countless monoliths
and lofty mausoleums of Akhlat, which I had made a long
detour to see. The plain is abundantly watered, and its
springs were surrounded with green sward, poplars, and
willows, while it was enlivened by numerous bullock-
carts, lumbering and creaking on their slow way with the
latest sheaves of the harvest.

After winding up a deep ravine we came upon a great

letter xxxm

ROCK CHAMBERS

361

table of rock scarped so as to be nearly perpendicular, at
the base of which is a stone village. On the other side
is a fine stream. I had purposed to spend the night at
Akhlat, but on riding up the village street, which has
several shops, there was a manifest unfriendliness about
its Turkish inhabitants, and they went so far as to refuse
both lodgings and supplies, so I only halted for a few hours.
Few things have pleased me more than Akhlat, and the
dreamy loveliness of the day was altogether propitious.

I first visited the Kharaba-shahr or “ruined city/'
The table rock is honeycombed with a number of artificial
chambers, some of which are inhabited. Several of these
are carefully arched. A very fine one consists of a
chamber with an arched recess like a small chancel; and
a niche so resembling a piscina at one side that one
involuntarily looks for the altar. These dwellings are
carefully excavated, and chisel marks are visible in many
places. Outlining this remarkable rock, and above these
chambers, are the remains of what must have been a
very fine fortress, with two towers like those of the castle
of Bitlis springing from below the rock. The whole of it
has been built of hewn red sandstone. The walls have
been double, with the centre filled up with rough stones
and mortar, but not much of the stone facing remains,
the villages above and below having been built of it.
Detached pieces of masonry, such as great masses of
walls, solitary arches, and partially-embedded carved frag¬
ments extend over a very large area, and it is evident
that investigators with time and money might yet reap a
rich reward. Excavators have been recently at work—
who or what they were I could not make out, and have
unearthed, among other objects of interest, a temple with
the remains of a dome having a cornice and frieze, and
two small circular chambers, much decorated, the whole
about twenty-five feet long.

362

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxiii

Akhlat Kalessi, or the castle of Akhlat, stands on the
sea-shore, on which side it has no defences. It is a
fortress with massive walls, with round and square towers
at intervals, and measures about 700 paces from the
water to the crest of the slope, and about 330 across.
The enclosure, which is entered by two gates, contains two
ancient mosques solidly built, and a few houses among
fruit trees, as well as some ruins of buildings. The view of
the Sipan Dagh from this very striking ruin is mag nifi cent.

There are many Circassian villages on the skirts of
the Sipan Dagh, and their inhabitants bear nearly as
bad a reputation as that of the Kurds. They are
well armed, and defy the local government. They are
robbers and pilferers, and though they receive, or did
receive, an allowance raised by a tax on the general
com m unity, they wring what they please out of the
people among whom they live.

A mile from Akhlat, on a table-land of smooth green
sward high above the silver sea, facing southwards, with
a glorious view of the mountains of Central Kurdistan
whitened with the first snows of winter, lies in an in¬
describable loneliness—the city of the dead. The sward is
covered though not crowded with red sandstone monoliths,
from six to fourteen feet in height, generally in excellent
preservation. Each has a projecting cornice on the east
side with carved niches, and the western face is covered
with exquisite tracery in arabesques and knot-work, and
inscriptions in early Arabic. On the graves are either
three carved stones arranged on edge, or a single heavy
hewn stone with a rounded top, and sides decorated with
arabesques. Few of these beautiful monoliths have fallen,
but some are much time-worn, and have a growth of
vivid red or green lichen upon them.

Besides these there are some lofty turbehs or mauso¬
leums, admirably preserved and of extreme beauty. The

letter sxxiii THE TURBHHS OF AKHLAT

363

form is circular. The sepulchre is a closed chamber,
with another above it open half-way round on the lake
side, and a colonnade of very beautiful pillars supports
round arches, above which are five exquisitely-carved
friezes. The whole is covered with a conical roof of
carved slabs of red stone, under which runs an Arabic
inscription. Each of these buildings is decorated with
ornament in the Saracenic style, of a richness and beauty
of which only photography could give any adequate
representation. Close to the finest of these iurbehs is an
old mosque with a deeply-arched entrance, over which is
a recess, panelled and carved like one in the finest of
the rock chambers. The lintels of the door are deco¬
rated with stone cables. Mirza counted more than 900
monoliths.

As I sketched the finest of these beautiful mausoleums
some mollahs came up and objected to the proceeding,
and Moussa urged me to desist, as the remainder of the
march was “ very dangerous,” he said, and must be “ got
over ” in full daylight. This phrase “ very dangerous,”
as used in Armenia, means that there is a serious risk
of having the baggage and horses driven off, and the
men stripped to a single garment. Such things are
happening constantly, and even Moussa ceases his joking
when he speaks of them. 1 The remaining march was
over great solitary sweeps of breezy upland to Pikhruz,
an Armenian village of 100 houses, which has an in¬
telligent Protestant teacher with sixty boys in his school.

1 Aklilat was a place of immense importance in ancient days, and its his¬
tory epitomises the vicissitudes of Armenia; Abulfeda, Bakani, Deguignes,
Ritter, and Finlay in his History of Greece are among the best-known
authorities on its history, and Mr. Tozer in his work on Turkish Armenia ,
p. 318, etc., gives an interesting popular sketch of the way in which it
was conquered and reconquered by Saracens, Greeks, Kurds, Turks,
Khoarasmipns and Georgians, till eventually, the Turks reconquered it
from the Kurds. Its ancient Armenian name of Khelat is altogether un¬
known to its present inhabitants.

364

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN LETTER XXXIII

The villagers possess 4000 sheep, and have not been
much harassed by the Kurds. They employ Kurdish
shepherds and four night watchmen, two of whom are
Kurds. The head-dresses of the women are heavy with
coins, and they wear stomachers and aprons so richly
embroidered that no part of the original material is visible.

The khan is an exceptionally bad odah, and is absolutely
crowded with horses, oxen, and men, and dim with the
fumes of animal fuel and tobacco. It is indeed co mi cally
wretched. The small space round the fire is so crowded
with zaptiehs, katirgis , and villagers that I have scarcely
room for my chair and the ragamuffin remains of my
baggage. Murphy is crouching over a fire which he is
trying to fan into a state in which it will cook my un¬
varying Sinner—a fowl’ and potatoes. Moussa is as usual
convulsing the company with his stories and jokes, and
is cracking walnuts for me; the schoolmaster is enlarging
to me on that fruitful topic—“ the state of things,” the
sabres and rifles of my escort gleam on the blackened
posts, the delectable ox and horse faces wear a look of
content, as they munch and crunch their food, the risk
of sleeping in a tent is discussed, and meanwhile I write
spasmodically with the candle and ink on a board on my
lap. I am fast coming to like these cheery evenings in
the odahs , where one hears the news of the country and
villages. The khanji , the man who keeps the guest-house,
provides fire, light, horse-food, and the usual country diet
at so much per head, and obtains the daily fowl, which
costs about 6d., and is cooked while warm. Milk can be
got from one of the cows in the stable. My expenses
for food and lodging are from 4s. to 6 s. a night.

Matchetloo , November 19 .—One of the most un¬
pleasant parts of the routine of the journey is the return
to the odah at 5 A.M. after a night in the fresh air, for
the atmosphere is so heated and foul as almost to knock

LETTER XXXIII

A DISTURBED NIGHT

365

one down. The night frosts are sharp, and as we start
before sunrise we are all glad to walk for the first hour.
The night in my tent at Pikhruz was much disturbed,
and I realised that it is somewhat risky for me to have
my servants out of hearing in the depths of a semi-subter¬
ranean dwelling. The village dogs raged at times as
though the Kurds were upon them, and every half-hour
the village guards signalled to each other with a long
mournful yell. I was awakened once by a confusion of
diabolical sounds, shots, shrieks, roars, and yells, which
continued for some time and then died away. In the
morning the guards said that the Kurds had attacked a
large caravan on the plain below, but had been repulsed,
and that men on both sides had been wounded.

The following day’s march by the silver sheet of the
Kuzik Lake, alive with ducks, divers, and other water
fowl, was very charming. Snow had fallen heavily, and
the Sipan Dagh and the Nimrud Dagh were white more
than half-way down their sides. From the summit of a
very wild pass we bade adieu to the beautiful Sea of Van,
crossed a plain in which is a pretty fresh-water lake
with several villages and much cultivation on its margin,
and, after some hours of solitary mountain travelling,
came down upon the great plain of Norullak, sprinkled
with large villages, very fertile, and watered by the Murad-
chai, the eastern branch of the Euphrates.

1 was to have had an easy march of five hours, and
to have spent Sunday at Shaoub in the comfortable house
of a Protestant pastor with an English-speaking wife, but
the zaptiehs took the wrong road, and as twilight came on
it was found that Shaoub had been left hours behind. I
have been suffering very much from the fatigue of the
very long marches, and only got through this one by re¬
peatedly lying down by the roadside while the zaptieJis
went in search of information. After it was quite dark ,

366

JOUBNEYS IN KUBDISTAN letter xxxiii

and we were still astray, news came that Shaoub was
occupied by 400 Turkish soldiers, and that there were
neither supplies nor accommodation, and after two more
hours of marching and counter-marching over ploughed
lands and among irrigation ditches, we emerged on the
Erzerum road, six inches deep in dust, forded a river in
thick darkness, got very wet, and came out upon the
large village of Yangaloo, a remarkable collection of 170
ant-hills rather than houses, with their floors considerably
below the ground. The prospects in this hummocky
place were most unpromising, and I was greeted by
Moussa, who., on finding that Shaoub was full of troops,
had had the wits to go on to Yangaloo, with the informa¬
tion that there was “ no accommodation.”

A womanly, Christian grip of my arm reassured me,
and I was lodged for Sunday in the Protestant church,
the villagers having arranged to worship elsewhere. A
building, forty feet long with small paper-covered windows
under the eaves was truly luxurious, but the repose of
Sunday morning was broken by loud and wearisome
noises, lasting for several hours, which received a dis¬
tressing explanation. I was informed by the priests
and several of the leading men of the village that Yan¬
galoo for some time past had suffered severely from the
Kurds, and that just before a heavy demand for taxes
had been made by the Government, the three days' grace
usually granted having been refused. The local official
had seized the flax seed, their most profitable crop, at half-
price, and had sold it for full price, his perquisite amount¬
ing to a large sum. Eifteen arabas , each one loaded with
seven large sacks of “ linseed,” were removed in the morning.

The people were very friendly. All the “ brethren ”
and “ sisters ” came to kiss hands, and to wish that my
departure "might be in great peace,” and on Sunday
• evening I was present at a gathering of men in a room

letter xxxiii AN ARMENIAN VILLAGE

367

with the door carefully bolted and guarded, who desired
me to convey to “ the Consul ” at Erzerum, with the
attestation of the names of the priests of the Old and
Reformed Churches, certain complaints and narratives of
wrong, which represented a condition of living not to be
thought of without grief and indignation, and not to be
ignored because it is partially chronic.

Yangaloo is a typical Armenian village, its ant-hill
dwellings are half-sunk, and the earth which has been
excavated is piled up over their roofs and sides. The
interior of each dwelling covers a considerable area, and
is full of compartments with divisions formed by low
clay walls or by the posts which support the roof, the
compartments ramifying from a widening at the inner
end of a long dark passage. In Yangaloo, as in other
villages on the plains, the earth is so piled over the houses
as to render them hardly distinguishable from the sur¬
rounding ground, but where a village burrows into a
hill-side only a small projection needs an artificial roof.
The people live among their live stock; one entrance
serves for both, and in winter time the animals never
leave the stables. The fireplace or tandur is in the floor,
but is only required for cooking purposes, as the heat
and steam of the beasts keep the human beings comfort¬
ably warm. From two to five 'families live in every
house, and the people are fairly healthy. 1

1 Xenophon in his Anabasis describes the Armenian dwellings of his
day thus:—

‘ ‘ Their houses were underground, the entrance like the mouth of a well,
hut spacious below ; there were passages dug into them for the cattle, but
the people descended by ladders. In the houses were goats, sheep, cows,
and fowls, with their young. All the cattle were kept in fodder within
the walls.” I have not seen the entrance by a well, but have understood
that it still exists in certain exposed situations. Xenophon mentions
buried wine, and it is not unlikely that the deep clay-lined holes in which
grain is stored in some of the villages are ancient cellars, anterior to the
date when the Karduchi became Moslems and teetotallers.

368

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter yyyttt

All the male members of a family bring their brides
to live under the parental roof, and one “ burrow ” may
contain as many as three generations of married couples
with their families. On becoming an inmate of her
father-in-law’s house, each Armenian bride, as in the
country districts of Persia, has to learn the necessity of
silence. Up to the day of the birth of the first child
she is 'the family drudge, and may not speak to any one
but her husband, and not to him in the presence of his
parents. Maternity liberates her tongue; she may talk
to her child, and then to the females of the household;
but she may not speak freely till some years of this
singular novitiate have passed by. She then takes a
high place in the house, and eventually rules it if s^e is
left a widow. The Armenian women are veiled out of
doors, but only in deference to the Moslems, who regard
an uncovered head as the sign of a bad woman. The
girls are handsome, but sheepish - looking; their com¬
plexions and eyes are magnificent.

Sunday was windy, with a gray sky, and the necessity
of getting over the Ghazloo Pass before the weather
absolutely broke was urged upon me by alL On the
plain of Norullak,' not far from Yangaloo, I forded the
Euphrates,—that is, the Murad-chai, a broad, still, and
deep river, only fordable at certain seasons. The fine
mountain Bijilan is a landmark in this part of the
country. Leaving the Euphrates we ascended for some
hours through bleak uninteresting regions to Kara
Kapru, and on the road passed thirty well-armed Kurds,
driving a number of asses, which the zaptiehs said had
been driven off from two Christian villages, which they
pointed out. I was interested in the movements of
some mounted men, who hovered suspiciously about my
caravan, and at one time galloped close up to it, but
retired on seeing the Government uniforms, and were

letter xxxiii A REPENTANT KATIEJI

369

apparently “loafing about” among the valleys. The
zaptiehs said that they were notorious robbers, and would
not go home without booty. Towards evening they re¬
appeared with several bullocks and asses which they had

driven off from the village of -, the headman of

which came to me in the evening and asked me to report
the robbery to “ the Consul,” adding that this was the
third time within a week that his village had been robbed
of domestic animals, and that he dared not complain.

At Kara Kapru, the best-looking Armenian village I
have seen, while I was looking for an odah, Moussa, in
spite of Murphy and the zaptiehs, dashed off with his
horses at full speed, and never stopped till he reached
G-hazloo, three hours farther on. This barbarous conduct
was occasioned by his having heard that two of his forty
horses ahead had broken down, and he hurried on to
replace them with two of mine! I was so tired and in
so much pain that I was obliged to lie down on the road¬
side for a considerable time before I could proceed, and
got a chill, and was so wretched that I had to be tied on
my horse. It was pitch dark, the zaptiehs continually
lost the way, heavy rain came on, and it was 9 P.M. when
we reached Ghazloo, a village high up on a hill-slope,
where Mirza and Murphy carried me into a small and
crowded stable, and later into my tent, which was pitched
in the slime at the stable door. Moussa was repentant,
borrowed a kajaveh , and said he would give me his strong
horse for nothing!

Torrents of rain fell, changing into sleet, and sleet
into snow, and when the following day dawned dismally
my tent was soaked, and standing in slush and snow.
My bed was carried into the stable, and I rested while
the loading was going on. Suleiman, my special zaptieh,
said that the khanji was quadrupling the charges, and
wanted me not to pay him anything. The khanji retorted
vol. n 2 b

370

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxm

that I gave the zajptieh money to pay, and that he gave
only a few coppers to the people—a glaring untruth, for
Murphy pays everything in my presence. Thereupon
Suleiman heat the Tchanji with his scabbarded sword, on
which the man struck him, and there was a severe fight,
in the course of which the combatants fell over the end
of my bed. So habituated does one become to scenes
of violence in this country that I scarcely troubled my¬
self to say to Murphy, “ Tell them to fight outside.”

It was a severe day’s march over the Bingol Dagh,
and I know little about the country we passed through.
We skirted a bleak snowy hillside, first in rain and then
in a heavy snowstorm, made a long ascent among drift¬
ing snow clouds, saw an ass abandoned by a caravan
shivering in the bitter wind, with three magpies on its
back picking its bleeding wounds, and near the summit
of the Ghazloo Pass encountered a very severe “ blizzard,”
so severe that no caravan but my own attempted to face
it, and sixty conscripts m route for Bitlis in charge of
two officers and some cavalry turned back in spite of
words and blows, saying, “We may be shot; better that
than to die on the hillside ”! Poor fellows, they are
wretchedly dressed, and many of them have no socks.
The “blizzard” was very awful—“a horror of great
darkness,” a bewildering whirl of pin-like snow coming
from all quarters at once, a hurricane of icy wind so
fearful that I had to hold on by the crupper and mane
to avoid being blown out of the saddle; utter confusion,
a deadly grip at my heart, everything blotted out, and
a sense of utter helplessness. Indeed I know of no peril
in which human resources count for so little. After
reaching the summit of the pass the risk was over, but
we were seriously delayed in forcing a passage through
the drift, which was fully seven feet deep. The men
were much exhausted, and they say that “ half an hour

LETTER XXXIII

A KURDISH ODAH

371

of it would have finished them.” All landmarks were
lost in the storm, and after some hours of struggling
through snow, and repeatedly losing the way, the early
darkness compelled us to take refuge in a Kurdish
village of bad repute on a bleak mountain side.

The odah was not only the worst I have yet seen, but
it was crammed with handsome, wild-looking Kurds, and
with the conscripts who had turned back at the pass,
some of whom were suffering from fever, and with
cavalrymen and their horses, every man trying to get
near the fire. I cannot say that any of them were rude,
indeed the Kurds did their best for what they supposed
to be my comfort. I spent the evening among them,
but slept in my tent outside, in two feet of snow, 100
yards from the stable, in spite of the protestations of the
zaptiehs. In fact I trusted to Kurdish watchmen, who
turned out faithful, and when an attempt was made to
rob my tent in the night they sprang on the robbers,
and after a struggle got two of them down and beat them
with their guns, both sides yelling like savages. When I
left the odah for the tent two Kurds gripped my arms
and led me to it through the deep snow. It was better
to run some risk than to be suffocated by the heat and
overpowering odours of the stable, but it was an eerie place.

November 21 .—The weather considerably delayed my
farther progress. The days were severe, and the nights
were spent in a soaked tent, pitched in slush or snow.
Mist and snow concealed the country, and few travellers
were stirring. We marched with the powder caravan
for the sake of the escort and for its services in beating
the track, and Moussa and his men watched at night.
The going was very bad, and both Moussa and I fell
down hill slopes with our horses, but the animals luckily
alighted on their feet. Moussa’s jollity was very useful.
He is a capital mimic, and used to “take off” Mirza in

372

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxiii

the oclahs at night, and as Murphy lost no opportunity
of showing up the poor fellow’s want of travelling savoir-
faire,, he would have had a bad time but for his pkilo--
sophical temperament and imperturbable good-nature. I
suffered very much from my spine, but the men were
all kind, and tried to make things easy for me, and the
zaptiehs were attentive and obliging.

Kurdistan is scarcely a “ geographical expression,” and
colloquially the word is used to cover the country in¬
habited by the Kurds. They are a mysterious people,
having maintained themselves in their original seats and
in a condition of semi-independence through all the
changes which have passed over Western Asia, though
they do not exceed numerically two and a quarter
millions of souls. Such as they were when they opposed
the retreat of the Ten Thousand they seem to be still.
War and robbery are the business of Kurdish life.

One great interest of this journey is that it lies

A HAKKIARI KURD.

through a country in
which Kurds, Turks,
and Armenians live
alongside each other—
the Kurds being of two
classes, the tribal, who
are chiefly nomads,
l owning no law but the
right of the strongest;
and the non-tribal or
I settled, who, having
. been conquered by
j? Turkey, are fairly or-
! derly, and are peace¬
able except in their
relations with the

Christians. The strongholds of the tribal Kurds are in

LETTER XXXIII

THEEE NATIONALITIES

373

the wild mountains of Kurdistan, and especially in
the Hakkiari country, which is sprinkled with their
rude castles and forts. An incurable love of plunder,
a singular aptitude for religious fanaticism, a reckless¬
ness as to the spilling of blood, a universal rapacity, and a
cruel brutality when their passions are roused, are among
their chief vices. The men are bold, sober, and devoted
to their kinsmen and tribe; and the women are chaste,
industrious, and maternal. Under a firm and equitable
Government, asserting vigorously and persistently the
supremacy of law and the equal rights of race and creed,
they would probably develop into excellent material.

The village Turk, as he is described by Europeans
well acquainted with him and speaking his language,
and as I have seen him on a long journey, is a manly,
hospitable, hard-working, kindly, fairly honest fellow,
domestic, cheerful, patriotic, kind to animals, usually a
monogamist, and usually also attentive to his religious
duties.

The Christians, who, in this part of Kurdistan, are
all Armenians by race, live chiefly on the plains and in
the lower folds of the hills, and are engaged in pastoral
and agricultural pursuits. My letters have given a faith¬
ful representation of them as dwelling with their animals
in dark semi-subterranean hovels. The men are in¬
dustrious, thrifty, clannish, domestic, and not given to
vices, except that of intoxication, when they have the
means and opportunity, and the women are hardworking
and chaste. Both sexes are dirty, hardy, avaricious, and
superstitious, and ages of wrong have developed in them
some of the usual faults of oppressed Oriental peoples.
They cling desperately to their historic church, which is
represented among the peasants by priests scarcely less
ignorant than themselves. Their bishops constitute their
only aristocracy.

374

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxiii

They are grossly ignorant, and of the world which
lies outside the sancljah in which they live they know
nothing. The Sultan is to them a splendid myth, to
whom they owe and are ready to pay a loyal allegiance.
Government is represented to them by the tax-gatherer
and his brutalities. Of justice, the most priceless pro¬
duct of good government, they know nothing but that it
is a marketable commodity. With the Armenian trading
communities of the cities they have slender communication,
and little except nationality and religion in common.

As a.rule, they live in villages by themselves, which
cluster round churches, more or less distinguishable from
the surrounding hovels, but there are also mixed villages
in which Turks and Armenians live side by side, and in
these cases they get on fairly well together, though they
instinctively dislike each other, and the Turk despises his
neighbour both for his race and creed. The Armenians
have not complained of being maltreated by the Turkish
peasants, and had there been any cause for complaint it
would certainly have reached my ears.

On this journey hundreds of stories have been told
to me by priests of both the Old and Protestant Churches,
headmen, and others, of robbery by demand, outrages
on women, digging into houses, killing, collectively and
individually, driving off sheep and cattle, etc., etc. 1

On the whole, the same condition of alarm prevails
among the Armenians as I witnessed previously among
the Syrian rayahs. It is more than alarm, it is abject
terror , and not without good reason. In plain English,

1 It was not possible to ascertain tlie accuracy of these narratives, and
though many of them appeared to be established by a mass of concurrent
and respectable testimony, I forbear presenting any of them to my readers,
especially as the report presented to Parliament in January 1S91 ( Turkey ,
No. 1) not only gives, on British official authority, a mass of investigated
facts, but states the case of the Armenian peasantry in language far
stronger than any that I should have ventured to use.

letter xxxnr OUTRAGES ON CHRISTIANS

375

general lawlessness prevails over much of this region.
Caravans are stopped and robbed, travelling is, for
Armenians, absolutely unsafe, sheep and cattle are being
driven off, and outrages, which it would be inexpedient
to narrate, are being perpetrated. Nearly all the villages
have been reduced to extreme poverty by the carrying
off of their domestic animals, the pillage, and in some
cases the burning, of their crops, and the demands made
upon them at the sword’s point for every article of value
which they possess, while at the same time they are
squeezed for the taxes which the’ Kurds have left them
without the means of paying.

The repressive measures which have everywhere
followed “ the Erzerum troubles ” of last June,—the
seizure of arms, the unchecked ravages of the Kurds, the
threats of the Kurdish Beys, who are boldly claiming
the sanction of the Government for their outrages, the
insecurity of the women, and a dread of yet worse to
come,—have reduced these peasants to a pitiable state.

The invariable and reasonable complaint made by the
Christians is, that though they are heavily taxed they
have no protection from the Kurds, or any advantage from
the law as administered in Kurdistan, and that taxes are
demanded from them which the Kurds have left them
without the means of paying. They complain that they
are brutally beaten when they fail to produce money for
the payment of the Government imposts, and they
allege with great unanimity that it is common for the
zaptiehs to tie their hands behind them, to plaster their
faces with fresh cow-dung, and throw pails of cold water
at their eyes, tie them to the posts of their houses and

flog them severely. In the village of-, which has

been swept bare by the Kurds, the people asserted that
the zaptiehs had tied twenty defaulters together, and had
driven them round and round barefooted over the thistles

376

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxiii

of the threshing-floor, flogging them with their heavy
whips. My zaptiehs complain of the necessity they are
under of beating the people. They say (and I think
correctly) that they can never know whether a man has a
hoard of buried money or not without beating him. They
tell me also that they know that half the peasants have
nothing to pay their taxes with, but that unless they
beat them to “ get what they can out of them ” they
would be punished themselves for neglect of duty.

On the plains to the west and north-west of the lake
of Yan, where the deep, almost subsoil, ploughing and
carefully-constructed irrigation channels testify to the
industry of a thrifty population, great depredations are
even now being committed, and though later the intense
cold and tremendous depths of snow of the Armenian
highlands will proclaim the “ Truce of God/’ the Kurds
are still on the alert. Nor are their outrages confined to
small localities, neither are they the result of “ peculiar
local circumstances,” but from the Persian frontier near
Urmi, along a more or less travelled road of several
hundred miles, there is, generally speaking, no security
for life, traffic, or property, and I hear on good authority
that on the other side of Erzerum, even up to the
Russian frontier, things are if possible worse.

I have myself seen enough to convince me that in the
main the statements of the people represent accurately
enough the present reign of terror in Armenia, and that
a state of matters nearly approaching anarchy is now
existing in the vilayet of Erzerum. There is no security
at all for the lives and property of Christians, law is being
violated daily, and almost with perfect impunity, and
peaceable and industrious subjects of the Porte, taxed
to an extent which should secure them complete pro¬
tection, are plundered without redress. Their feeble
complaints are ignored, or are treated as evidence of

LETTER XXXUI

REMORSELESS ROBBERS

377

“ insurrectionary tendencies/’ and even their lives are
at the mercy of the increased audacity and aroused
fanaticism of the Kurds, and this not in nearly inacces¬
sible and far-off mountain valleys, but on the broad
plains of Armenia, with telegraph wires above and
passable roads below, and with a Governor-General and
the Fourth Army Corps, numbering 20,000 seasoned
troops, within easy distance!

I have every reason to believe that in the long winter
evenings which I have spent in these sociable oclahs , the
peasants have talked to me freely and frankly. There
are no reasons why it should be otherwise, for my
zaptiehs are seldom present, Moussa is looking after his
horses in distant recesses, quite out of hearing, and my
servants are Christians. If the people speak frankly,
I am compelled to believe that the Armenian peasant
is as destitute of political aspirations as he is ignorant
of political grievances; that if he were secured from the
ravages of Moslem marauders he would be as contented
as he is loyal and industrious; and that his one desire
is “ protection from the Kurds ” and from the rapacity
of minor officials, with security for his life and property.
Not on a single occasion have I heard a wish expressed
for political or administrative reform, or for autonomy.
The Armenian peasants are “ of the earth, earthy,” and
the unmolested enjoyment of material good is their idea
of an earthly Paradise.

With regard to the Kurds, they have been remorse¬
less robbers for ages, and as their creed scarcely hesi¬
tates to give the appropriation of the goods of a Kafir a
place among the virtues, they prey upon the Syrian and
Armenian peasants with clear consciences. To rob them
by violence and “ demand,” month after month and year
after year, till they have stripped them nearly bare, to
cut their throats if they resist, to leave them for a while

378

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxiii

to retrieve their fortunes,—“ to let the sheep's wool grow ”
as their phrase is,—and then to rob them again, is the
simple story of the relations between Kurd and Christian.
They are well armed with modern rifles and revolvers.
I have rarely seen a Kurd with an old-fashioned weapon,
and I have never seen a Christian with a rifle, and their
nearly useless long guns have lately been seized by the
Government. The Kurds hate and" despise the Turks,
their nominal rulers; but the Islamic bond of brother¬
hood is stronger than the repulsion either of hatred or
contempt, and the latent or undisguised sympathy of
their co-religionists in official positions ensures them, for
the most part, immunity for their crimes, for the new
Code, under which the evidence of a Christian has
become nominally admissible in a court of law, being in
direct opposition to the teaching of the Koran, to the
practice of centuries, to Kurdish fanaticism, and to the
strong religious feelings and prejudices of those who
administer justice, is practically, so far as the Christians
are concerned, a dead letter. 1

I am writing in an odcch in the village of Harta, after
a wild mountain ride in wind, sleet, and snow. The very
long marches on this journey have been too much for me,
and I made a first and last attempt to travel in a maffir
or covered wooden pannier, but the suffering was so great
that I was glad to remount my faithful woolly Boy . We
had a regular snowstorm, in which nothing could be seen

1 In a Minute by tbe late Mr. Clifford Lloyd ( Turkey , No. 1, 1890-91,
p. 80) tlie condition of the Christian peasant population of Kurdistan is
summarised thus:—

‘ ‘ Their sufferings at present proceed from three distinct causes—

‘‘1. The insecurity of their lives and properties, owing to the habitual
ravages of the Kurds.

“ 2. The insecurity of their persons and the absence of all liberty of
thought and action (except the exercise of public worship).

“ 3. The unequal status held by the Christian as compared with the
Mussulman in the eyes of the Government.”

LETTER XXXIII

A “STRANGE HORSE

379

but the baggage horses struggling and falling, and occa¬
sional glimpses of caverned limestone cliffs and precipitous
slopes, with a foamy torrent at a tremendous depth below.
On emerging from the pass, Moussa, Suleiman, and I
came at a good pace through the slush to this odah, and
I arrived so cold that I was glad to have to rub my horse
dry, and attend to him. Murphy describes him thus:
“ That’s a strange horse of yours, ma’am; if one were to
lie down among his legs he’d take no notice to hurt one.
When he comes in he just fills hisself, then he lies
down in the wettest place he can find, and goes to sleep.
Then he wakes and shakes hisself, and hollers, he does,
till he gets his grub ”—an inelegant but forcible descrip¬
tion of the excellences of a travelling horse. Boy is
truly a gentle pet; it afflicts me sorely to part with him.
A few nights ago as I took some raisins to him in a
dark recess of the stable, my light went out, and I slipped
and fell among the legs of some animal. Not knowing
whether it was a buffalo or a strange horse I did not
dare to move, and said, “ Is this you, my sweet Boy ? ”
A low pleasant snuffle answered “ yes,” and I pulled my¬
self up by the strong woolly legs, which have carried me
so^sturdily and bravely for several hundred miles.

The Christians appear not to have anything analogous
to our “ family worship,” but are careful in their attend¬
ance at the daily prayers in church, to which they are
summoned before dawn, either by loud rappings on their
doors or the striking of a wooden gong or sounding-board.
The churches differ very little. They usually have an
attempt at an outer courtyard, the interior of the edifice
is generally square, the roof is supported by two rows of
poplar pillars, and the rough walls are concealed by
coarse pictures and dirty torn strips of printed cotton.
Dirty mats or bits of carpets cover the floor, racks are
provided for the shoes of the worshippers, and if there is

380 JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxm

not a gallery a space is railed off for the women. The
prayers are mumbled by priests in dirty vestments, while
the women knit and chatter. Candle-grease, dust, and
dirt abound. There is such an air of indifference about
priests and people that one asks what motive it is which
impels them to leave their warm stable dwellings on
these winter mornings to shiver in a dark and chilly
church. They say, “We will tread the paths our fathers
trod; they are quite good enough for us.” Two nights
ago, in an odah full of men, the Kurdish hJictnji , at the
canonical hour, fell down on his forehead at prayer in
the midst of us, all daggers, pistols, and finery as he was.
In which case is the worship most ignorant, I wonder ?

I. L. B.

letter xxxiv FIRST VIEW OF ERZERUM

381

LETTER XXXIY

Erzerum, Lee . 1 .

I left Harta in a snowstorm without the caravan, and
wherever the snow was well beaten got along at a good
pace, passing on the right the fortress of Hassan-Kaleh,
with several lines of fortifications and a town at its base,
which, with the surrounding district, consumes, it is said,
an amount of strong drink equal in value to its taxation.
The adjacent Pasin Plain, watered by the Araxes, has
suffered severely from the Kurds. A short time ago all
its Christian villages were plundered, and at least 20
horses, 31 asses, 2282 sheep, and 750 head of cattle,
nearly the whole pastoral wealth of the people, were
carried off by these marauders, while the Moslem villages
were exempt from their attacks. After winding among
uninteresting hills crowned with forts, along valleys
in which military posts occur at frequent intervals, and
making a long ascent, the minarets and grim fortifica¬
tions of the unhappy town of Erzerum loomed through
the snow-mist; the city itself lying on a hill slope above
a very extensive plain at a height of over 6000 feet. It
was a solemn scene. The snow was deep and was still
falling, the heavens were black, and swirls of mist driven
by a strong wind blotted out at times the surrounding
mountains. A dead calm followed, and snow clouds hung
suspended over the city.

My first impression of Erzerum was of earthworks of

382

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxiv

immense size extending for miles, with dismounted guns
upon them looking very black in the snow; of a deep
ditch, and a lofty rampart pierced by a fine granite
tunnel; of more earthworks, and of forts crowning all
the heights directly above the city, and of many flags
drooping on their staffs. Between the fortifications and
the town there is a great deal of open ground sprinkled
with rifle-pits, powder magazines, and artillery, cavalry,
and infantry barracks, very solidly built and neatly kept up.
After passing through cemeteries containing thousands of
gravestones, we abruptly entered the principal street, wide
and somewhat European-looking, in which are some of
the Consulates and the Protestant Armenian church and
schools. The houses in this street are very irregular,
and most of them have projecting upper fronts.

I was received with the utmost kindness at the
American Mission House, where it has seemed likely that
I might be detained for the winter ! I understood that
when I reached Erzerum I should be able to drive to
Trebizond in a fourgon, so I sent Murphy to Yan on Boy,
and thought with much satisfaction of the ease of the
coming journey. Then I was ill, and afterwards found
that the fourgons were long rough waggons without
springs, in which one must lie or sit on the top of the
baggage, and that I should never be able to bear the
jolting. There was another heavy snowstorm, and winter
set in so rigorously that it was decided that driving was
out of the question, and that I must hire a horse. After
the matter had been settled thus, Murphy and Boy , both
in very bad case, were found in a low part of the town,
and though Murphy asserts that he encountered Kurds
near Hassan-Kaleh who robbed him of everything, it is
not believed that he ever passed through the city gate.
He looks a pitiable object, and his much-frogged uniform,
and the blanket, revolver, and other things that I had

letter xxxiv THE “ ERZERUM TROUBLES

383

given him are all gone. In spite of his fatal failing, I
have re-engaged him, and shall again ride my trusty pet.
The Vali, ignoring my official letter, has insisted on a
number of formalities being complied with, and though
the acting-Consul has undertaken all the formal arrange¬
ments, the delays have been many and tiresome. There
are two bugbears on the Trebizond road,—the Hop and
Zigana mountains, which are liable to be blocked by snow.

As compared with Persian towns, Erzerum looks
solid and handsome, and its uncovered bazars seem fairly
busy. The through traffic between Trebizond and Tabriz,
chiefly in British goods, is very heavy. The Custom
House is in sight from my windows, and in one day I
have counted as many as 700 laden camels passing
through it, besides horse and mule caravans. There are
about 2000 Persians in the city, and the carrying trade
is mainly in their hands. The present population is esti¬
mated at from 20,000 to 24,000. The Armenians are
not very numerous, but their enterprise as traders gives
them an importance out of proportion to their numbers.
The Armenian cathedral, the “Pair of Minarets,” the
“Single Minaret,” and the castle, which stands on a
height in the middle of the city, and contains a small
Saracenic chapel, are the chief “ sights.”

Nothing is talked about but “the troubles,” 1 and the
European Consuls, who possess trustworthy information,
confirm my impressions of the seriousness of the pre¬
sent latitude allowed to the Xurds. The Turkish Govern-

1 The reader will recollect that the “ Erzerum troubles ” so frequently
referred to consisted of riot and bloodshed following upon a search for
arms which was made under the floors of the Armenian Cathedral and
the Sanassarian College, on the strength (it is said) of an anonymous
telegram in June 1890. The lucid account given of this deplorable affair
and of the subsequent inaction of the local Government by Her Britannic
Majesty’s Consul-General for Kurdistan, in the “ White Book,” to which
allusion has been made, should be studied by all who are interested in the
so-called “Armenian Question.”

384

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxiv

ment has just taken a step which is regarded as full
of hazard. Certain Kurdish Beys were summoned to
Erzerum, nominally for the purpose of being reprimanded
for their misdeeds; but they were allowed to enter the
gates with a number of armed followers, and afterwards
went to Erzingian, where, from the hands of Zeki Pacha,
the Commander of the Fourth Army Corps, they received
commissions as officers of irregulars. The Christians (but
I hope erroneously) regard this step as a menace, and the
Kurds appear to think that it gives them license to maraud.

These Beys, after receiving their commissions, went
through the Christian quarter of the Erzingian bazars,
making gestures as of cutting throats, and saying to the
Christian merchants, “ Your time has come now; hitherto
we have not had the co-operation of the Government,
but we have it now.” It remains to be seen whether
the Porte will succeed in bringing these men and their
wild followers under the conditions of military discipline.

The excitement following upon the “ troubles ” last
June has only partially subsided, and I learn from the
Europeans that the state of suspicion, fear, distrust, and
repression within the city has undergone little diminu¬
tion. Every day brings fresh reports of robbery and
outrage, and for murders of well-known Christians no
arrests are being made. 1 Trade among the Armenians
is suffering, for those merchants whose transactions are
with Kurdish districts dare not collect their debts for
fear of losing their lives. Arrests of Christians on
frivolous and worthless pretexts are being made daily,
Armenian houses are being searched continually, and indi¬
viduals are being imprisoned for long terms of years for

1 In a despatch in the “White Book” {Turkey, No. 1, 1890-91) Mr.
Clifford Lloyd sums up the condition of things in Kurdistan thus: “In
a country such as this is, lawlessness is to be expected ; but unfortunately
in nearly every instance armed and ungoverned Kurds are the aggressors,
and unarmed and unprotected Armenian Christians the victims

letter XXXIV THE SAHAS SARI AN COLLEGE

385

having books in their possession containing references to
the past history of Armenia, and the Government is, or
affects to be, in constant dread of an insurrectionary
rising among the Christians. The accounts from the
country districts are so very bad that one of the ablest
and best-informed of the European Consuls, a very old
resident in Asia Minor, remarked indignantly, “ It’s no
longer a question of politics but of humanity.”

One of the most interesting sights in Erzerum is the
Sanassarian College, founded and handsomely endowed
by the liberality of an Armenian merchant. The fine
buildings are of the best construction, and are admirably
suited for educational purposes, and the equipments are of
the latest and most complete description. The education
and the moral and intellectual training are of a very high
type, and the personal influence of the three directors,
who were educated in Germany and England, altogether
“makes for righteousness.” The graduation course is
nine years. The students, numbering 120, wear a uni¬
form, and there is no distinction of class among them.
They are, almost without exception, manly, earnest, and
studious, and are full of enthusiasm and esprit de corps .
Much may be hoped for in the future from the admirable
moral training and thorough education given in this
college, which is one of the few bright spots in Armenia.

I have seen Erzerum under very favourable circum¬
stances, for, since the last snowstorm, the weather has
been magnificent, and everything that is untidy or un¬
sightly has an unsullied covering. The winter sunsets
reddening the white summits of the Deveh Boyun and
other lofty ranges, and the absolute purity of the white¬
ness of the plain, between thirty and forty miles long
and from ten to twenty broad, which lies below the city,
exercise a witchery which the scorching heats of summer
must utterly destroy. r I. L. B.

VOL. ii 2 c

386

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxv

LETTEE XXXY

Trebizond, Dec. 13,1890.

The journey from Erzerum to Trebizond in the winter,
season occupies from ten to twelve days, and involves a
transition from an altitude of 6000 feet to the sea-level,
and from treelessness, aridity, and severities of cold to
forests and moisture, a temperate climate, and the ex¬
quisite greenness of the slopes which descend upon the
Black Sea. There is a well-made waggon road, carefully
engineered, for the whole distance, with stone bridges in
excellent repair; many of the khans are tolerable, supplies
can be procured, and the country is passably safe.

I left Erzerum on the 2d of December, escorted by
my kindly hosts as far as Elijeh, having an Armenian
Jcatirgi, who in every respect gave me the greatest satis¬
faction, and the same servants as before. The mercury
fell rapidly the following night, was 2° below zero when I
left Elijeh for Ashkala the next morning, and never rose
above 15° during the whole day. The road follows the
western branch of the Euphrates, the Erat, a reedy and
winding stream. The horsemen and foot passengers were
mostly muffled up in heavy cloaks with peaked hoods,
and the white comforters which wrapped up their faces
revealed only one eye, peering curiously out of a cavern
of ici'dlAs Icicles hung from the noses and bodies of the
horses, it was not possible to ride more than half an hour
at a time without being benumbed, and the snow was

LETTER XXXV

THE KOP DAGH

387

very deep for walking. After crossing the Euphrates
twice by substantial stone bridges, I halted at Ashkala,
a village of khans, at a clean but unfinished khan on the
bank of the river, and in a room with unglazed windows
and no possibility of making a fire experienced a tempera¬
ture of 5° below zero. My dinner froze before I could
finish it, the stock of potatoes for the journey, though
wrapped in a fur cloak inside my yekdan, was totally
spoilt, and my ink froze. The following day was cloudy
and inclined to snow rather than frost, and the crossing
of the much-dreaded Kop Dagh was managed without
difficulty in five hours, in snow three feet deep. There
is a refuge near the summit, but there are no habitations
on the ascent or descent. It is a most dangerous pass,
owing to the suddenness and fury of the storms, and only
last winter sixty fine camels and ten drivers perished
there in a blizzard. My zaptieh was left behind ill at the
refuge, and I made the remainder of the journey without
an escort. The Kop Dagh, 7500 feet in altitude, forms
the watershed between the Euphrates valley and the
Black Sea, and on such an afternoon as that on which I
crossed it, when wild storms swept over successive moun¬
tain ranges, and yet wilder gleams lighted up the sinuous
depression which marks the course of the Erat, the view
from its lofty summit is a very striking one.

It was dark when I reached the very miserable hamlet
on the western side of the Kop, and as earlier caravans
had taken up the better accommodation, I had to content
myself with a recess opening out of a camel stable. The
camels sat in circles of ten, and pleasant family parties
they looked, gossiping over their chopped straw, which,
with a ball of barley-meal dough in the morning, con¬
stitutes their slender but sufficient diet. Nothing gives
a grander idea of the magnitude and ramifications of
commerce than the traffic on the road from Erzerum to

388

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxv

Trebizond. During eleven days there has scarcely been
a time when there has not been a caravan in sight, and
indeed they succeed each other in a nearly endless pro¬
cession, the majority being composed of stately mountain
camels, gaily caparisoned, carrying large musical bells,
their head-stalls of crimson leather being profusely tas-
selled and elaborately decorated with cowries and blue
beads. The leader of each caravan wears a magnificent
head-dress covering his head and neck, on which em¬
broidery is lavishly used in combination with tinsel and
coloured glass, the whole being surmounted by a crown
with a plume set between the ears. There is one driver
to every six animals; and these men, fine, robust, sturdy
fellows, are all dressed alike, in strong warm clothing,
the chief feature of which is a great brown sheepskin
cap of mushroom shape, which projects at least nine
inches from the head. The road is a highway for
British goods. The bales and packing cases are almost
invariably marked with British names and trade marks.
The exception is Russian kerosene, carried by asses and
horses, of which an enormous quantity was on the road.

I was glad to leave Kop Khan^ at daybreak, for
caravan bells jingled, chimed, tolled, and pealed all night,
and my neighbours the camels were under weigh at 3 am.
The road descends gently down the wide valley of the
Tchoruk, the ancient Acampsis, and then ascends to Bai-
burt, a town with a population of about 12,000 souls, 1800
being Christians. It is very picturesquely situated at the
junction of two or three valleys, the houses rise irregularly
as at Bitlis tier above tier, and the resemblance is
heightened by a great reddish-yellow rock which rises
in the centre, the long and varied contour of which is
followed by the walls of a fortress imposing even in its
ruins, round and square towers cresting the remark-'
able eminence. A handsome military college on a height,

LETTER XXXV

ARMENIAN RUINS

389

wide streets lined by well-built houses with projecting
upper stories, and well-supplied and busy markets, in
which an enormous quantity of mutton is exposed for sale,
are among the chief features of this very striking town.
A domiciliary visit from a courteous chief of police, who
assured me that an escort was not needed, and re-sealed my
passports, was my only contact with Turkish officialism
between Erzerum and Trebizond.

After leaving Baiburt I diverged a little, in spite of
very deep snow, to visit the ruined Armenian ecclesiastical
edifices at Yarzahan, a village from which a mountain
road to Trebizond passing near the Greek monastery of
Sumelas branches from the main road. The most
interesting and best - preserved of these buildings is
an octagonal chapel of a very elaborate design, with
remains of a circle of slender shafts, a very fine west
window, round arches, and some curious designs in fresco.
In another a pointed arch, and a fragment of a blind
arcade with niches on its outer face, remain, along with
some very carefully-executed cable and twisted moulding.
It was truly refreshing to come upon such very beautiful
relics of Christian art in so wild a country. These
edifices are attributed to the eleventh or twelfth century.
In an ancient and adjacent. cemetery there are several
monumental stone rams, very much like the stone lions
of the Bakhtiari country.

I quite broke down on that march, and was obliged to
bribe the Turkish occupants of a most miserable hovel to
vacate it for me, and on the following day was only able
to ride three hours to Getchid. The sky was grim and
threatening, and the snow deep, and when after a long
ascent we descended into a really magnificent defile, so
narrow that for a long distance the ; whole roadway is
blasted out of the rock, a violent snowstorm came on,
with heavy gusts of wind. There were high mountains

390

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxv

with a few trees upon them dimly seen, walling in the
wildest and most rugged part of the defile, where some
stables offered a shelter, and I was glad to be allowed, to
occupy the wood house, a damp excavation in the mountain
side! No words can convey an impression of the rough¬
ness of Asia Minor travelling in winter !

It was lonely, for the stable where the servants were
was a short distance off, and the hhanji came several
times to adjure me to keep the bolt of the door fastened,
for his barley was in my keeping, and there was a gang
of robbers on the road ! I fell asleep, however, but was
awakened at midnight by yells, shouts, tramplings, and a
most violent shaking of my very insecure door. It was
the Turkish post, who, being unable to get into the stable,
was trying to bring his tired horses into my den for a
little rest! Tine fellows these Turkish mail riders are,
who carry the weekly mail from Trebizond into the
interior. The post drives two horses loaded with the
mail bags in front of him at a gallop, urging them with
yells and his heavy whip, the zaptieh escort galloping
behind, and at this pace they dash up and down moun¬
tains and over plains by day and night, changing at short
intervals, and are only behind time in the very worst of
weather.

Snow fell heavily all night, and fintil late in the
afternoon of the following day, but we started soon after
seven, and plodded steadily along in an atmosphere of
mystery, through intricate defiles, among lofty mountains
half-seen, strange sounds half-heard, vanishing ravines
and momentary glimpses of villages on heights, fortress-
crowned precipices, suggestive of the days of Genoese
supremacy, as in the magnificent gorge of Kala, and
long strings of camels magnified in the snow-mist, to the
Kala village, with its dashing torrent, its .fine walnut
trees, and its im m ense camel stables, in and outside of

letter XXXV

THE KHARSHUT VALLEY

391

which 700 camels were taking shelter from the storm
We pushed on, however, during that day and the next,
through the beautiful and populous Guniushkhan6 valley
to Kupru Bridge, having descended almost steadily for
five days.

The narrow valley of the Kharshut is magnificent,
and on the second day the snow was only lying on the
heights. The traveller is seldom out of sight of houses,
which are built on every possible projection above the
river, and on narrow spurs in wild lateral ravines, and
wherever there are houses there are walnut, pear, apple
and apricot trees, with smooth green sward below, and
the walnut branches often meet over the road. The
houses are mostly large, often whitewashed, always brown-
roofed, and much like Swiss chdlets , but without the
long slopes of verdure which make Switzerland so fair.
Instead of verdure there is the wildest rock and moun¬
tain scenery, a congeries of rock-walls, precipices, and
pinnacles, and the semblance of minarets and fortresses,
flaming red, or burnt sienna, or yellow ochre, intermingled
with bold fronts of crimson and pale blue rock, the
crimson cliffs looking in the rain as if torrents of blood
were pouring over them The roadway has been both
blasted out of the rock and built up from the river. Far
up picturesque ravines oxen were ploughing the red
friable soil on heights which looked inaccessible; there
was the velvety greenness of winter wheat; scrub oak
and barberry find root-hold in rocky rifts, and among
crags high up among the -glittering snows contorted
junipers struggle for a precarious existence.

The road was enlivened by local as well as through
traffic, and brightened by the varied costumes of Turks,
Greeks, Armenians, and Lazes. The latter do not
resemble the Turks in physiognomy or costume. All of
them carry rifles and sabres, and two daggers in their

392

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxv

girdles, one of 'which always has a cloven hilt. They are
on their way to their native province of Lazistan with
droves of horses, and are much dreaded by both the
katirgis and khanjis on the road for their marauding
habits. The Turkish Government has a very difficult
task in ruling and pacifying the number of races which
it has subjugated even in Asiatic Turkey. Between the
Arabs of the Chaldsean Plains and the Lazes of the shores
of the Black Sea I have met even in* my limited travels
with Sabeans, Jews, Armenians, Syrians, Yezidis, Kurds,
Osmanlis, Circassians, and Greeks, alien and antagonistic
in creed and race, but somehow held together and to
some extent governed by a power which is, I think,
by no means so feeble as she is sometimes supposed
to be.

The Kharshut is crossed at Kupru Bridge by a very
fine stone arch. This village, at the foot of the Zigana
Mountain, is entirely composed of inferior khans, food
shops, and smiths’ shops. The clang of hammers lasted
late into the night, for the road was reported as “ icy,”
and more than 400 horses and mules were having their
shoes roughed for the passage of the Zigana Mountain. I
arrived late in the evening, when all the khans were full,
and had to put up in a hovel, the door of which was
twice attempted during the night by a band of Lazes,
about whose proceedings Stephan, my katirgi, had been
very suspicious. After the servants and katirgis, roused
by my whistle, had rushed out of an opposite stable
upon the marauders, I lay awake for some time trying
to realise that my ride of 2500 miles was nearly at an
end, and that European civilisation was only five days
off; but it was in vain. I felt as if I should always be
sleeping in stables or dark dens, always uttering the call
to “ boot and saddle ” two hours before daylight, always
crawling along mountain roads on a woolly horse, always

letter sxxv THE ZIGANA MOUNTAIN

393

planning marches, always studying Asiatic character, and
always sinking deeper into barbarism !

From the summit of the Zigana Mountain to Trebi-
zond is a steady descent of twelve hours. The ascent
from Kupru Bridge occupied five hours and a half. It
was a much more serious affair than crossing the Kop
Dagh, for the snowstorm had lasted for three days, the
snow was from four to nine feet deep on the summit,
and the thawing of its surface at the lower altitudes,
succeeded by keen frost, had resulted in the production
of slopes of ice, over which I had to walk for two hours,
as Boy could scarcely keep on his feet.

The early snow has a witchery of its own, and it may
be that the Zigana Mountain and the views from it are
not so beautiful as I think them, but under the circum¬
stances in which I saw them, I was astonished with the
magnificence of the scenery, and with the vast pine forests
which clothe the mountain sides. Tillages of chdlets,
with irregular balconies, and steep roofs projecting from
two to six feet, are perched on rocky heights, or nestle
among walnuts with a blue background of pines, above
which tower spires and peaks of unsullied snow; ridges rise
into fantastic forms and mimicries of minarets and castles;
pines, filling gigantic ravines with their blue gloom, stand
sentinels over torrents silenced for the winter; and colossal
heights and colossal depths, an uplifted snow world of
ceaseless surprises under a blue sky full of light, make
one fancy oneself in Switzerland, till a long train of
decorated camels or a turbaned party of armed travellers
dissipates the dream.

The last hour of the ascent was very severe. The
wind was strong and keen, and the drifting snow buffeted
us unmercifully. The mercury fell to 3° below zero, and
the cold was intense. Murphy complained of “ trembles ”
in his knees and severe pain in his legs, and when we

394

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxv

reached the summit was really ill. The drift was not
only blinding and stinging but suffocating. I was quite
breathless, and felt a chill round my heart. I could not
even see Boy's neck, and he cowered from the blast; but just
as all things were obliterated I found myself being helped
to dismount in the shelter of a camel stable full of Lazes,
but was so benumbed that I could not stand. Some
zaptiehs had the humanity to offer me the shelter of a
hovel nearly buried in the snow, and made a fire and
some coffee, and I waited there till the wind moderated.
It came in such fierce gusts as actually to blow two of
the baggage horses over on their sides. Murphy was
really ill of fever for two days from the cold and
exposure. The altitude of the pass is about 6627 feet.

The first part of the descent was made on foot, for the
snow had drifted on the road to a height of fully twenty
feet, leaving only a path of shelving ice on the brink
of a precipitous slope. Earlier in the day twenty laden
camels had gone over, and were heaped in the ravine
below, not all dead. The road dips with some suddenness
into a deep glen, dark with pine and beech forests; large
rhododendrons and the Azalea pontica forming a dense
undergrowth. Long gray lichen hung from the branches,
Christmas roses and premature primroses bloomed in
sheltered places, the familiar polypody and the Asplenium
adiantum nigrum filled every crevice, soft green moss
draped the rocks, there was a delicious smell of damp
autumn leaves, and when we reached the G-reek village of
Hamzikeuy clouds were rolling heavily up the valley from
the not far distant ocean.

The two days which followed were easy and pleasant,
through a prosperous and peopled valley brightened by
the rushing waters of the Surmel, the ancient Pyxites.
Orchards and tillage beautify the lower slopes of the
mountains, the road is excellent, the homesteads are in

LETTER XXXV

A PROSPEROUS VALLEY

395

good repair, the people are bright and cheery-looking, and
Greek villages with prominent churches on elevated spurs
add an element of Christian civilisation to the landscape.
The exceeding beauty of natural forests, of soft green
sward starred with the straw-coloured blossoms of the
greater hellebore, of abounding ferns and trailers, of “ the
earth bringing forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and
the tree yielding fruit after his kind,” of prosperous
v illag es with cheerful many-windowed houses and red-
tiled deep-eaved roofs, can only be fully appreciated by
the traveller who has toiled over the burning wastes
of Per sia with their mud villages and mud ruins, and
across the bleak mountains and monotonous plateaux of
the Armenian highlands, with their ant-hill dwellings,
and their poverty-stricken population for ever ravaged by
the Kurd.

“ Tilled with a pencil,” carefully weeded, and abund¬
antly manured, the country looks like a garden. The
industrious Greek population thrives under the rule of
the Osmanlis. Travellers on foot and on horseback
abound, and Tchans and cafis succeed each other rapidly.
When the long descent alongside of the Surmel was
accomplished, the scenery gradually became tamer, and
the look of civilisation more emphasised. The grass was if
possible greener, the blossoming hellebore more abundant,
detached balconied houses with their barns and outhouses
evidenced the security of the country, the heat-loving fig
began to find a place in the orchards, the funereal cypress
appeared in its fitting position among graves, and there
was a briny odour in the air, but, unfortunately for the
traveller, the admirable engineering of the modern waggon
road deprives him of that magnificent view of the ocean
from a height which has wrung from many a wanderer
since the days of the Ten Thousand the joyful exclama¬
tion, “ Thulatta ! Thalatta ! ”

396

JOURNEYS IN KURDISTAN letter xxxv

The valley opened, there was a low grassy hill, beyond
it, broad yellow sands on which the “ stormy Euxine ”
thundered in long creamy surges, and creeping up the
sides of a wooded headland, among luxuriant vegetation,
the well-built, brightly-coloured, red-roofed houses of the
eastern suburb of Trebizond, the ancient Trapezus. 1 It was
the journey’s end, yet such is the magic charm of Asia
that I would willingly have turned back at that moment
to the snowy plateaux of Armenia and the savage moun¬
tains of Kurdistan. I. L. B.

1 The itineraries will be found in Appendix B.

APPENDIX A

397

APPENDIX A

Among the prayers recited by the Hadjis are those with which the
pilgrims circle the Kaaba at Mecca, a translation of which was given
by Canon Tristram in a delightful paper on Mecca contributed to
the Sunday at Home volume for 1883. The following is a
specimen :—

“ 0 God, I extend my hands to Thee : great is my longing
towards Thee. Accept Thou my supplication, remove my
hindrances, pity my humiliation, and mercifully grant me Thy
pardon.

“ 0 God, I beg of Thee that faith which shall not fall away,
and that certainty which shall not perish, and the good aid of Thy
prophet Mohammed — may God bless and preserve him! 0

God, shade me with Thy shadow in that day when there is no
shade but Thy shadow, and cause me to drink from the cup of Thy
prophet Mohammed—may God bless him and preserve him !—that
pleasant draught after which is no thirst to all eternity. 55

398

APPENDIX B

APPENDIX B

Itineraries with approximate Distances

1

Prom Baghdad to Kirmanshah.

3

From Tihran to Isfahan.

MILES

MILES

•Orta Khan

. 16

Husseinabad

. 28

Yakobieh .

. 14

Aliabad ....

. 28

Wiyjahea .

. 16

Shashgird ....

. 24

Sheraban .

. 11

Kum ....

. 16

Kizil Robat

. 18

Passangham

. 16

Khanikin .

. 17

Sinsin ....

. 24

Kasr-i-Shirin

.

. ' . 16

Kashan ....

. 24

Sir-i-pul-i-Zohab

.- . , 18

Kuhrud ....

. 28

Myan Tak

. 15

Soh.

. 24

Kirrind

. 14

Murchehkhurt .

. 28

Harunabad

. 20

Gez.

. 24

Mahidasbt

. 22

Isfahan .

. 16

Kirmanshah

. 14

—

280

2

211

From Kirmanshah to Tihran. 1 i

4

Besitun .

. 22

From Isfahan to Buritjird.

Sannah

. 16

Kangawar

. 21

The actual distance

travelled.

Phaizalpah

. 24

about 700 miles.

Hamilabad

. 12

Nanej

. 18

Dizabad .

. 24

Saruk

. 22

5

Ahang Garang

. 12

From Bhrhjird to Hamadan.

Siashan .

. 20

Jairud

. 18

Deswali . . . .

. 16

Taj Khatan

. 14

Sahmine .

. 13

Kdm

. 25

Daulatabad

. 12

Shashgird.

. 16

Jamilabad

. 22

Aliabad .

. 24

Mongawi .

. 6

Husseinabad

. 28

Yalpand .

. 9

Tihran

. 28

Hamadan .

. 8

344

86

i Probably the distance by this route is over-estimated, as it is the computation of
the dharvadcLTs.

APPENDIX B

399

6

From Hamadan to Urmi.

From Urmi to Van.

Anbar

Merwana

Marbisbu

Pirzala .

Gahgoran

Shawutha

Kochanes

Kotranis

Merwanen

Khanjarak

Van

HOURS

2

8 *

9

10

2

8

6

7

10

9

9

188 Miles.

8

From Van to Bitlis.

Babar ....

MILES

. 8

Angugb .

HOURS

. 4.45

Kooltapa....

. 24

Undzak .

8.30

Gaukhaud

. 20

Gbazit .

7

Babarasban

. 20

Bitlis

90 Miles.

Bitlis to Erzerum.

8

Bijar ....

Karabulak

Jafirabad

Takautapa

Geokahaz

Sanjud ....
Sain Kala

. 20
. 16
. 16
. 154
. 16
. 14

. 144

From

Gudzag

8

Kasbawar

. 15

Pikhruz

8

Miandab

. 21

Yangaloo

9

Amirabad

. 12

Gbazloo

10

Sujbulak.

. 16

Ama

6.30

Mebemetabad .

. 14

Matcbetloo

6

Dissa ....

. 25

Herta

7

Turkman

. 12 1

Erzerum

.

5

TJrmi ....

. 10

309

177 Miles (*)

10

From Erzerum to‘TREBizoND.

Eli jell .

. . 34

Asbkala

. . 74

Kop Kliane .

Baiburt.

. . 84

7

-Bridge .

. . 64

Getcbid.

4

Gumusli Kbane

8

Kupru Bridge

7

Hemizkeuy .

. . 8f

Atli Killessi .

8

Trebizond

6

199 Miles by Measurement.

INDEX

AB-I-ARJANAK

A

Ab-i-Arjanak, ii. 77
Ab-i-Baznoi, ii. 59, 70
Ab-i-Bazuft, ii. 15
Ab-i-Burujird, ii. 71, 114
Ab-i-Diz, ii. 71, 113
Ab-i-Khonsar or Abi Kum, i. 161,
168, 170

Ab-i-Kirrind, i. 93
Ab-i-Mowaz, ii. 18
Ab-i-Nozi, ii. 18
Ab-i-Sefid, ii. 66
Ab-i-Zaz, ii. 94
Abba, Arab dress, i. 33
Abdul Azim, i. 178, 189

- Bahim, i. 99; hospitality, 99;

family history, 99 ; menage, 101,
115 ; courtesy, 114
Abraham, Deacon, ii. 243
Agha Hassan, i. 99
Ahang Garang, i. 152
Ahwaz, i. 9, 10
Aimarah, i. 16 ; prison, 17
Akabah-i-Holwan, i. 88
Akhlat, ii. 360; rock chambers, 361 ;
castle, 362 ; monoliths, 362 ; tur -
behs or mausoleums, 362
Akhtamar, Island rock of, ii. 343 ;

Church, 343
Alexander, Dr., ii. 162
Ali-Ilahis, i. 85, 86
Ali-Kuh, ii. 1, 4; wild-flowers, 5 ;
Pass, 5

Aliabad, caravanserai of, i. 172, 226
Amin-es-Sultan, or Prime Minister,
i. 176, 203
Amm-i-lewa, ii. 5

Amir-i-Panj, i. 261-266 ; character,
'VOL. II

BAGHDAD

262 ; anclarun , 263 ; on the educa¬
tion and position of English women,
264

Amirabad, ii. 205
Angugh, ii. 341
Anhar, ii. 261

Arabs, improvement of, i. 11 ; con¬
dition, 20; costume, 33 ; tattoo¬
ing, 34
Arak , i. 272

Ardal, i. 311, 317, 336 ; ii. 2 ; valley,
i. 316 ; castle, 318 ; andaran , 31S-
322

Ardost, peaks of, ii. 338
Arjanak, ii. 78

Arjul, alpine meadow, i. 349
Armenian houses, i. 37, 270 ; women,
272 ; churches, 273-276 ; pictures,
274 ; long fasts, 276; supersti¬
tions, 277 ; costume, 278, 364 ;
needle-work, 366 ; banquet, 367 ;
church, 368 ; characteristics of, ii.
336 ; condition, 340; brides, 368 ;
in Kurdistan, 373-377 ; ruins, 389
Artemid, ii. 341
Ashirets, the, ii. 314
Ashkala, ii. 387
Aslam Khan, ii. 63
Aurugun, i. 370

B

Baba Ali Mountain, ii. 197

Baba Yadgar, tomb .of, i. 86

Babaraslian, ii. 177

Babis, sect of the, i. 273

Badush, ii. 83

Bagh-i-Washi, i. 301

Baghdad, i. 21 ; Church Mission at,

2 D

402

INDEX

BAHAI!,

24 ; impressions of, 26 ; population,

25 ; bazars, 29 ; cafes, 30 ; trade,
30, 43 ; “Fish of Tobias,” 31;
bricks, 35; schools at, 36, 37 ;
dispensary, 38 ; boils, 39

Bahar, ii. 169
Baiburt, ii. 38S

Baklitiari Country, the general de¬
scription of, i. 286-293 ; women,
319 ; hair-dyes, 319 ; costume, 320 ;
dying man, 322-325 ; politics, 327 ;
punishments, 329 ; entertainment,
331; harani , 353; marriage customs,
355 ; chajn, national dance, 356 ;
conceit, 357; camping-ground, 371;
tents, 372 ; hospitality, 377 ;
diseases, 379 ; education, ii. 7 ;
methods of cultivation, 9 ; paternal
tenderness, 21 ; diet, 22 ; sensi¬
tiveness, 32 ; poverty, 54 ; “ blood
feuds,” 55 ; tribal feuds, 84;
tribesmen, 98 ; buriaF rites, 99 ;
graveyards, 100; religion, 101-
103 ; men’s costume, 106 ; women’s,
107 ; polygamy, 108 ; population,

110 note ; taxation, 111; exports,

111 ; animals, 117
Baldiji, Moslem village, i. 369
Bani, ii. 267

Barchallah, ii. 286
Basnoi, ii. 67

Basrah, i. 1, 6; climate, 7; date
industry, 7 ; inhabitants, 8
Bawali, ii. 124

Bazuft or Kudbar valley, ii. 10, 13
Beladruz, i. 60

Bell, Colonel S., on Van, ii. 338, 340
Berigun, ii. 23
Berwar-Lata valley, ii. 323
Besitun range, i. 98, 119 ; village,
121, 122
Bideshk, i. 236

Bihishtabad, the Mansion of Heaven,
ii. 3

Bijar, ii. 173, 178
Bijilan mountain, ii. 368
Bilar, ii. 323
Bingol Dagh, ii. 370
Bitlis, ii. 341, 350 ; trade, 351 ;
population, 352 ; Christian Mission
at, 354; school, 355; mineral
springs, 359 ; valley, 349

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS AT BAGHDAD

Blizzards, i. 95, 123, 154, 235 ; ii.
370

Boka, i. 129

“ Boy,” a pet horse, ii. 135
Bread-making, Persian, i. 159
Browne, Mr., ii. 2S4, 317-319
Bruce, Dr., i. 5, 46, 248, 252

-Mrs., i. 245

Buffaloes, ii. 212

Burujird, town of, ii. 124 ; “ tribute
insurrection,” 127 ; population,
130 ; manufactures, 130 ; prosper¬
ity, 131 ; plain of, 124
Bushire, i. 1; commerce of, 3

C

Canals, i. 51
Caravan, fate of a, i. 133
Caravans, L 50; ii. 38S ; collision of,
i. 91, 144

Caravanserai, dirt of a, L 81-S3
Carmelite monks, French, i. 37
Carpets, Persian, i. 109
Ghadar , i. 17

Chahar Bagh bridge, i. 25S

-Mahals or four districts, i. 308,

361

Chaharta, i. 359
Chaldsean plains, i. 14
Challeh Kuh, peak of, i. 370
Chalonitis, i. 85

Chaman Kushan, plain of, ii. 28
Chain, Baklitiari dance, i. 356
Charmi village, i. 307
Charzabar Pass, i. 94
Cherri Pass, ii. 13
Cheshmeh-i-Charzabar torrent, i. 95
Chesmeh-i-Gurab, i. 346

- Zarin, plain of, ii. 24

Chigakhor, i. 348; plain of, 369;
patients, 369 ; “season,” 370 ; fort,
375

Child-life, Persian, i. 218
Chiraz, i. 358

Christian missions at Baghdad, i. 24 ;
at Bitlis, ii. 355 ; at Erzerum,
382; at Hamadan, 162, result
of, 164 note; at Julfa, i. 24S : at
Tihran, 188; at Uriui, ii. 221-
234, history of, 226, results, 229 ;
at Van, 335 note

INDEX

403

GHAZLOO PASS

at, 382 ; trade, 3S3 ; “sights,” 3S3 :
“ troubles,” 383 ; Sanassarian Col¬
lege, 385

Esther and Mordecai, tomb of, ii. 153
Etiquette, code of, i. 105
Euphrates, ii. 365, 368
Eyal, hamlet of, n. 275
Ezra, tomb of, i. 13

“ CHRISTIANS OF ST. JOHN ”

“Christians of St. John,” i. 17
Cochrane, Dr., ii. 224
Ctesiphon, ruins of, i. 22
Curzon, Mr. G., letter to the Til
i. 19S ; on Julfa, 246

D

Dalonak, peak of, ii. 16
Darkash Warkash, i. 317
Dastagird, i. 60
Dastgird, i. 376
“Date boils,” i. 39

-palms, i. 8

Daulatabad, ii. 140
“ David’s Fort,” i. 86
Dead, mode of carrying, i. 36, 168
Dehnau village, i. 353
Demavend, cone of, i. 176, 240
“Demon wind,” the, i. 127
Dervishes, i. 236-23S
“Desert,” the, i. 48
Deswali, ii. 134
Deveh Boyun, ii. 385
Dilakoff, Yacub, ii. 2*23 note
Dilleh, peak of, ii. 22
Dima, ii. 19, 25
Dinarud river, i. 348
Dissa, ii. 216
Diyalah, i. 51, 60
Diz Arjanak, ii. 82
Diza, ii. 276 ; reduction of the garri¬
son, 276 ; first visit to a Turkish
official, 277

Dizabad, i. 140 ; ruins of, 142
Dizful or Bridge of Diz, ii. 71
Drinayi Pass, ii. 275
Duab river, ii. 11
Dnashda Imams, i. 343
Dukkani-Daoud or David’s shop, i.
85, S7

Dupulan, i. 351'; Pass, 352
E

Elam, Upper, ii. 34
Elburz mountains, i. 176, 225
Elijeh, ii. 386
El wend, Mount, ii. 144
England, native opinions of, i. 19, 73,
171,198i; ii. 7, 79, 128, 199, 272
Erzerum, ii. 381; Christian mission

F

Faidun, ii. 47
Fao, i. 5

Fath’ Ali Shah, i. 170
Fatima, shrine of, i. 167-169; pilgrim¬
ages to, 167

Feraghan, plain of, i. 151; carpets,
151 ; salt lake, 158
Fire-worshippers, l. 194
Fraser, Mr. Baillie, Travels in Kurd¬
istan, i. 28
Frat, the, ii. 386

G

Gaberabad, caravanserai of, i. 232
Gahgoran, ii. 282 ; night alarm, 283
Gal-i-Bard-i-Jamal Pass, ii. 26, 36
Gal-i-Gav Pass, ii. 34, 39
Gamasiab river, i. 123, 125
Gandaman, plain of, i. 361 ; village,
363

Gardan-i-Cherri, ii. 13, 19
Gardan-i-Guuak, ii. 71
Gardan-i-Rukli, i. 308
Gardan-i-Tak-i-Girreh, i. 88
Gardan-i-Tir-Machi, ii. 188
Gardan-i-Zirreh, i. 313
Garden of Eden, i. 13
Gargunak, ii. 19
Gartak, ii. 45
Gas Kliana marsh, i. 301
Gates, language of, i. 271
Gaukhaud, ii. 168, 176
Gawar, plain of, ii. 275; request for
teachers, 281

Geog-tapa, ii. 219; church, 243;
orphanage, 244

Geokahaz, ii. 188 ; cleanliness, 192

Getchid, ii. 389

Gez, i. 240, 242

Ghazit village, ii. 346

Ghazloo Pass, ii. 368 ; village, 369

404

INDEX

GIL-I-SHAH PASS

Gil-i-Shah Pass, ii. 31
Givr, i. 161

Gokun, ii. 41 ; river, 45
Gopher, a, i. 19

Gorat), plateau of, ii. 15 ; serious in¬
cident, 17
Guclzag, ii. 360
Gulabek, i. 183
Gumushkhane valley, ii. 391
Gurab plain, i. 346
Gurans, the, i. 86
Guwa river, ii. 49

H

Hadji Hussein, plain of, si. 203
Haizdar or Haigatsor plain, ii. 332, 341
Hakims , female, ii. 74 ; remedies, 74;
diseases, 75

Hamadan, ii. 134, 148 ; ruinous con¬
dition, 149 ; bazars, 150 ; na?nads
or felts, 151 ; intemperance, 152 ;
tomb of Esther and Mordecai, 153 ;
tablets, 154; degradation of the
Jews, 155 ; inhabitants, 155, 156 ;
Faith Hubbard school, 160; Medi¬
cal mission at, 162; visitors, 162 ;
Christian mission at, 164; travelling
arrangements, 165

Hamilabad, i. 127, 134 ; a diseased
crowd, 135
Hamrin hills, i. 59
Hamzikeuy, Greek village, ii. 394
Handawan, pass of, ii. 124
Harta village, ii 378
Harunabad, i. 94
Hashal river, ii. 341
Hassan-Kaleh, fortress of, ii. 381
Hassan Khan, ruined fort, i. 123
Hesso Khan, a Kurdish chief, ii. 264;
costume, 265

Holiwar valley, ii. 95, 104
Holwan, i. 63, 81, 85
Horses, Arab, i. 118.

-Bakhtiari, ii. 117

-Persian, i. 190 ; clothing, 185 ;

ii. 136 ; food, 137
“Hospital Sunday,’* i. 155
Husseinabad, i. 134, 176, 212

I

Ilyat villages, i. 78, 81; camps, 84,

KANAATS

314 ; ii. 193, 205 ; costume, i. 316 ;
familiarity, ii. 194
Imamzada-i-Mamil, ii. 118
Imamzada torrent, i. 350
Imam Kuli Khan, Ilkhani, i. 325
Inda Khosh, ii. 206
Indo-European telegraph line, i. 227
Inn, Turkish, i. 52
Irene, Lake, ii. 87, 88
Isfahan, i. 244 ; bridges, 258; dyed
fabrics, 258 ; Medresseh , armoury,
266; trade, 267; Farliang news¬
paper, 268 ; manufactures, 269 ;
climate, 269

IsfandyarKhan, Ilbegi, i. 328; harem,
332-335

J

Jabali-Besitun range, i. 112, 119
Jahrabad, ii. 184
Jagatsu river, ii. 197
Jairud, i. 158; fruit exported, 158
Jalanda mountain, ii. 50
Jamilabad village, ii. 143
Jan Mir, sheikh, i. 79
Jehanbin, i. 312
Jelu ranges, ii. 281, 325
Julfa, i. 227, 243; “ alleys,” 246; so¬
ciety, 247; history, 248; church
missions at, 248 ; schools, 250;
mission house, 251; picnics, 257;
“ city of waters,” 269; preparations
for journey, 281-285

K

Kabols , Persian dish, ii. 139
Kahva Bukh, i. 300, 308; patients,
309 ; nocturnal robbery, 311
Kaisruh mountain, ii. 11
Kaj, ii. 3

Kajawehs or panniers, i. 118
Kala Kuh, ii. 58, 65
Kalahoma, ii, 47, 50; patients, 51
Kalhurs, the, i. 86
Kalian , or water pipe, i. 107
Kalla Khanabad, ii. 105
Kamand-Ab, ii. 124
Kamarun, ii. 47
Kamerlan Pass, ii. 325
Kanaats , i. 241

INDEX

405

KANDAL PASS

Kandal Pass, ii. 285
Kangawar, i. 131
Kanisairani summits, ii. 276
Kar Kanun, ii. 27
Kara Kapru, ii. 369
KarabulSk, Kurdish village, ii. 182
Karachai river, ii. 196
Karaftu, fortress palace of, ii. 194
Karasu river, i. 112, 114
Kar si or platform, i. 132
Karun river, i. 5, 342, 351 ; ii. 23,
29 ; trade on, i. 10, 12 ; its tribu¬
taries, ii. 30

Kashan, i. 220; telegraph station,
227 ; manufactures, 230; rejiit tiles,
231

Kashava, ii. 202

Kashgan, ii. 120

Kasr-i-Kajar, i. 195

Kasr-i-Shirin, i. 79 ; ruins of, 80;

romantic legends, 80 note
Kasrik Kala Pass, ii. 332
Kasseinabad, i. 226
Katirgis or muleteers, i. 50
Kavir or Great Salt Desert, i. 174,
111

Kavrak, defiles of, ii. 196
Kazimain, i. 23

Kerbela, “ Dead March,” i. 35, 36 ;

pilgrims to, ii. 189-191
Kerkhah, i. 94

Ketchuda or headman, i. 329 : duties,

377

Khana Mirza plain, i. 360
Khanjarak, ii. 329 ; poverty, 330 ;
church, 330

Khannikin, i. 61; haram , 66, 71 ;

trade, 69 ; peasant life, 74-76
Kharba valley, ii. 36
Khariji village, i. 312
Kharshut valley, ii. 391; village, 392
Khashmaghal village, ii. 184
Kherson valley, ii. 19
Khosroe Parviz, legend, i. 80 note
Khuramabad, ii. 103, 120 ; dirt and
squalor, 122 ; Bala Hissarfort, 123
Killa Bazuft, ii. 8, 19
Kirmanshah, i. 98 ; population, 101 ;
street, 102 ; inhabitants, 102 ; cus¬
toms, 103 ; punishment, forms of,
103; reception by the Governor, 103;
the Citadel, 104 ; code of etiquette,
VOL. II.

KURDS

105, of pipes, 107 ; rugs, 109 ;
carpet-weaving, 110 ; soldiers, 111;
lanterns, 111; horses, 118
Kirrind, i. 84, 92; plain of, 87,
valley, 90

Kizil Kabr, red range of, ii. 197
-Robat, i. 53 ; dirt and discom¬
fort, 60

-Uzen stream, ii. 180

Knapp, Mr. and Mrs., ii. 355
Kochanes, ii. 261, 286 ; Mar Shimun
the Patriarch, 288-294 ; church,
296-302 ; cattle plague, 319
Kooltapa, ii. 169 ; robbery, 171
Kop Dagh, ii. 387

-Kliane, ii. 388

Kornah, i. 13
Kotranis, ii. 323

Kourbana, celebration of the, ii. 310
Kufas or gophers , i. 18
Kuh-i-Bozah, i. 129'

Kuh-i-Dinar, ii. 2
Kuh-i-Gerra, ii. 2
Kuh-i-Haft Kuh, ii. 94
Kuh-i-Hassan, i. 129
Kuh-i-Kaller, i. 360
Kuh-i-Milli, ii. 12
Kuh-i-Nassar, i. 313
Kuh-i-Paran, i. 129
Kuh-i-Rang, ii. 34
Kuh-i-Sabz, i. 316
Kuh-i-Shahan, ii. 26
Kuh-i-Sukhta range, i. 313
Kuli-i-Zirreh, ii. 2
Kuh-Shah-Purnar, i. 313
Kuh Sufi, i. 257
Kuh Surisart, ii. 194
Kuhrud, i. 233 ;‘exports, 234 ; valley,
232 ; pass of, 234

Klim, i. 160, 211 ; telegraph line and
post-office, 166 ; Fatima, shrine of,
167 ; the dead, source of wealth,
168; industries, 170; “holy”
city, 170 ; theological college, 170 ;
ruinous condition, 220
Kunak, i. 363
Kupru Bridge, ii. 391
Kurdish houses, i. 88 ; ii. 191 ;
women, 192

Kurds, depredations of the, ii. 272;
robbery and violence, 278, 295,
323, 330 ; costume, 352 - 354 ;

2 D 2

406

INDEX

KUT-AL-AIMARAH

physique , 352; description of, 372;
outrages, 375 ; remorseless robbers,
377

Kut-al-Aimarah, i. 18
Kuzik lake, ii. 365

L

Labaree, Dr., ii. 240 note
Lalidaraz, i. 359
Land, cultivation of, i. 21
Lanterns, Persian, i. Ill; ii. 158
Layard, Sir A. H., Early Adventures,

i. 13 ; on Ali-Ilahism, 87; on the
Baklitiaris, 294

Lazes, the, ii. 391

Legation, the British, at Tihran, i.
175

Letter from the Turkish Ambassador,

ii. 322

Libasguu, i. 365
Lodgings for travellers, i. 82
Luri-Buzurg, the, i. 286-299
Lurs, Bakhtiari, i. 293-297 ; external
improvement, ii. 18
Lurs, Feili, i. 297-299
Lyne, Mr. and Mrs., i. 214

M

Mahidasht, i. 93 ; plain of, 97; river,
96

Makhedi, ii. 58

Mar Shimun, the Syrian Patriarch of
Kochanes, ii. 288-294
Marbishu, ii. 267; church, 269 ;

Qasha Ishai’s dwelling, 271
Margil, i. 7

Martaza, Hyat encampment, i. 343
Masir, ii. 48
Matchetloo, ii. 364
Mauri Zarin valley, ii. 77
Mehemetabad, ii. 211
Meron or holy oil, i. 277
Merwana, ii. 262
Merwanen village, ii. 327
Miandab, ii. 204
Mianmalek Pass, ii. 194
Mirza Taghi, murder of, i. 206
Missionaries, female, life, i. 253-255

-Medical, i. 38, 188, 250; ii. 162,

224

Missions. See Christian

PARWEZ

Modahel , i. 115
Mohammerah, i. 5

Moharrem, or month of mourning, ii.
158

Money, difficulty of procuring, ii. 320
Mongawi village, ii. 143
Mowaz, ii. 15
Muhammad Jik, ii. 202
Muradchai river, ii. 365
Murcheh Khurt, i. 232, 239
Muschir - u - Dowleh, i. 205 ; his
mosque, 206 ; college, hospital,
207 ; palace, 207 ; andarun , 209
Mush, plain of, ii. 348
Myan.Tak hamlet, i. 88

N

Naghun village, i. 331 ; Pass, ii. 2

Nahrwaa canal, i. 51

Nal Shikan Pass, i. 94

Namads or felts at Hamadan. ii. 151

Names, i. 140

Nanej, i. 135 ; female curiosity, 137 ;
ceremonials on the birth of a child,
138, 139

Narek village, ii. 342
Nasrabad, i. 226 ; ii. 184
Nimrud Dagh, ii. 342
JS r o Ruz or New Year, festival of,
annual ceremony, i. 204, 219
Norduz, ii. 327
Norullak, plain of, ii. 365

O

Odah , Turkish guest-house, ii. 344
Odling, Dr. and Mrs., i. 198
Ombar, ii. 263

Orta Khan, first camping-ground, i.
49

P

Padshah-i-Zalaki, ii, 60 ; disorderly
crowd, 60 ; attack, 63; thefts, 71;
savage life, 73
Pai-Tak, i. 87
Pambakal Pass, ii. 30
Pamir desert, “the roof of the world,”
i. 127

Parwez, ii. 90, 93, 104 ; under fire,
I 90

INDEX

40V

PASBANDI PASS

Pasbandi Pass, i. 312
Pasin Plain, ii. 381
“ Pass of tbe Angel of Death,” i. 175
Passangham, i. 225

Peasant’s house, Persian, i. 148 ; flat
roofs, 149
Pedlars, i. 260
Pelu, Mount, ii. 338
Persia, bibliography of, i. 6, 13, 84,
87, 107, 113, 138, 182, 228, 286,
307, 327 ; ii. 158, 243, 249, 258,
269, 300, 304, 335, 363, 367, 378,
383, 384

-farewell impressions of, ii. 246-

260 ; condition, 247 ; population,
249; condition of the working
classes, 250 ; independence, 251 ;
characteristics of the upper classes,
252 ; morals, 252 ; education, 253 ;
law, 254 ; Shah, a despotic ruler,
255 ; official corruption, 257
Persian frontier, i. 78

- lady, costume of a, i. 216, 217 ;

amusements, 219
Pharipah, i. 134
Pigeon towers, i. 302
Pikhruz, ii. 358, 363
Pipes, etiquette of, i. 107-109
Pira Mah mountain, ii. 197
Pirn, precipice of, i. 120, 121
Pirzala, ii. 276
Polygamy, i. 214
Post stations, i. 223
Potter, Dr., i. 188
Pul-i-Hawa, ii. 114
Pul-i-Kaju, i. 258
Pul-i-Kala, i. 304
Pul-i-Wargun, i. 300

Q

Quhaibalak, ii. 286
Qwarali, ii. 286

R

Rahwan, plain of, ii. 348
Ramazan, fast of, i. 303
Rawlinson, Sir H., on Ali-Ilaliism, i.
86; on the rock sculptures, 112 ;
on Besitun antiquities, 122 ; on
the Bakhtiaris, 296
Reynolds, Dr., ii. 336

SHAH

Rhages or Rhei, ancient city of, i.

178, 194
Riji, i. 360

Riz, i. 301 ; pigeon towers, 301 ; lack
of privacy, 303
“Roa'd Beetle,” i. 242

-Guards, escort of, ii. 193, 201

Ross, Colonel, i. 2
Rugs. See Carpets

Russia, native opinions of, i. 198 ; ii.
181, 199

Rustam-i village, ii. 4
S

Sabz Kuh, i. 359

Sabzu ravine, i. 352 ; river, 359 ;
valley, 359

Safid-Kuh, or “white mount,” ii. 19
Sah Kala, ii. 49

Sahid stream, ii. 41 ; village, 41 ;
burial-ground, 42

Sahmine, ii. 137; buildings, 138;
exports, 139

Sain Kala, ii. 197 ; trade, 197 ; in¬
habitants, 198
Salamatabad village, ii. 180
Sanak river, ii. 206, 208
“Sang Miwishta,” ii. 70
Sanginak mountain, i. 345
Sanjud, ii. 194

Sannah, i. 119, 125; a diseased
crowd, 127

Sar-i-Cheshmeh-i-Kurang, ii. 29, 33
Sarakh river, ii. 188
Sarawand, ii. 88 ; noisy crowd, 89
Saripul-i-Zohab, i. 77; history of,
84

Saruk, i. 143 ; carpets, 146; climate,
146 ; peasants’ houses, 148 ; flat
roofs, 149

Sassoon, Sir A., i. 36
Schindler, General, on the population
of Persia, ii. 249
Scribe, Persian, i. 284
Seleucia, i. 22

Seligun, valley of, i. 313; ii. 1; lake,
i. 315

Serba torrent, ii. 17
Seyyids, the, i. 32; ii. 123
Shah, palace of the, atTihran, i. 192 ;
haram, 192 ; hunting grounds, 195 ;
gardens, 198 ; treasure house, 199 ;

408

INDEX

SHAHBADAR VILLAGE

Peacock Throne, 201; presentation
to, 201; description of, 202; des¬
potic ruler, ii. 255
Shahhadar village, ii. 115
Shalamzar, i. 312 ; eye diseases, 312
Shccmal, i. 1, 5
Shamisiri valley, ii. 20
Shamran, twin peaks of, i. 124
Shamsahad village, i. 312 ; river, 317
Shashgird, caravanserai of, i. 173, 213
Shat-el-Arab, the, i. 5, 6
Shawutha, hamlet of, ii. 285
Shedd, Dr. , ii. 226
Sheraban, i. 57
Shiahs, the, i. 35
Shimran hills, i. 182, 193, 195
Shiraz, i. 227
Shorab valley, ii. 27
Shurishghan, legends, i. 309 note
Shuster, ii. 16

Shuturun, ii. 77; mountain, 83

Siashan, i. 150

Silakhor, plain of, ii. 89, 94

Sinsin, i. 225

Sipan Dagh, ii. 342, 362

Snow scene, i. 153

Soh village, i. 236.; telegraph testing
station, 227, 236
Sowars , the, i. 78
Stone lions, i. 343

Sujbulak, ii. 187,207; cemetery, 206 ;
trade, 207 ; consulate, 207; in¬
habitants, 207
Sulduz, plain of, ii. 214
Sultan Ibrahim, i. 360
Sunnis, the, i. 36
Surmel, the, ii. 394
Sutton, Dr. and Mrs., i. 24, 37, 39,
46

Syrians, characteristics of the, ii. 241;
costume, 242; pious phrases, 242 ;
baptism, 299 ; clerical dress, 302;
burial rites, 303 ; marriage customs,
307 ; fasts, 308 ; episcopal succes¬
sion, 309 ; kourbana , 310; dancing,
312; condition of, 324

T

, Tabarak, stream, ii. 19
Tadvan village, ii. 360
Taimur Khan, ii. 52

URMI

Taj Khatan, i. 157; bread-making,
159 *’

Tak-i-Girreh, pass of, i. 88
Tak-i-Kasr, palace of, i. 22
Takautapa, ii. 179, 186
Takt-i-Bostan, rock sculptors of. i.
112

T&ndur or fire-hole, i. 132
Tang-i-Ardal, gorge, i. 342
Tang-i-Bahrain, ii. 94
Tang-i-Buzful, ii. 124
Tang-i-Darkash Warkash, ii. 3
Tang-i-G-hezi, ii. 24
Tang-i-Karun, ii. 11
Tang-i-Wastagun, i. 361
Tarso, ii. 49

Tazieh or Passion Play, i. 35, 184 •
ii. 158

Tchoruk, ii. 388
Terpai torrent, ii. 286
Threshing, mode of, ii. 138
Tigris, river, 1, 9, 15, 27, 51; ii.

350 ; navigation of, i. 12
Tihran, i. 175; arrival at, 180;
aspects of, 183 ; population, 184;
bazars, 184; horse furniture, 185 ;
foreign goods, 186, 187 ; European
quarter, 188 ; Christian mission at,
188 ; dispensary, hospital, 188 ;
modem improvements, 189; Im¬
perial Bank, 189; squares, 192;
Citadel or Ark, 192; freight of
goods, 196 ; society, 197; Museum,
199 ; telegraphic centre, 227
Tiles, i. 231
Toogh village, ii. 349
{t Tower of Silence,” i. 194
Travelling equipments, i. 44, 47, 117,
282

Trebizond, ii. 386, 396
Tuk-i-Karu, ii. 94 '

Tulwar village, ii. 177

Tur, i. 338, 347

Turbehs or mausoleums, ii. 362

Turkish house, i. 40

Turkman, hamlet of, ii. 211, 217

Twig Bridge, ii. 114

U

Undzag, ii. 844

Urmi, the “Paradise of Persia,” ii

INDEX

409

URMI, DEAD SEA OF

217 ; Protestant missions at, 221-
234 ; the Fiske Seminary, 222 ;
College, 222; medical mission,
224 ; siege, 225 ; schools, 226, 231,
history of the mission, 226 ; results,
229 ; Anglican mission, 229 ;
Sisters of Bethany, 232 : popula¬
tion, 235 ; antiquarian interests,

236 ; Syrians or Assyrians, 237 ;
inhabitants, 237 ; tenure of houses,

237 ; of lands, 238 ; laws injurious
to Christians, ii. 240

Urmi, Dead Sea of, ii. 215, 235

V

V-Shaped slit, difficult passage of
the, ii. 44

Van, ii. 325, 334 note ; Christian
mission at, 335 ; schools, 335 ; the
“Gardens,” 337; castle, 338 ;
church, 339 ; increasing trade, 339

-Dead Sea of, ii. 332

-Lake, ii. 342

Varak Dagh, ii. 342
Varzahan village, ii. 3S9
Vastan village, ii. 342
Vignau, M. du, i. 227

W

Walnut trees, ii. 346

ZOBEIDEH VALLEY

Water supply of Persia, i. 241, 305
Wells, Colonel, i. 197, 227
Wiyjahea caravanserai, i. 54
Wolff, Sir H. Drummond, i. 181
Writing, a tine art, i. 284

Y

Yakobiyeh, i. 46, 52

Yalpand village, ii. 144

Yangaloo, Armenian village, ii. 366

Yekmala, ii. 275

Yezd, i. 194

Yezidi torrent, ii. 286

Yezidis, the, ii. 317

Z

Zab river, ii. 286
Zagros, gates of, i. 87
Zainderud river, i. 258, 269, 301
ii. 19 ; process of rinsing, l. 258
Zalabi , Bakhtiari eatable, i. 330
Zaptiehs , ii. 326
Zarak village, ii. 360
Zard Kuh range, ii. 23, 27, 28
Zarin valley, ii. 19
Zibar mountains, ii. 214
Zigana mountain, ii. 392
Zobeideh valley, i. 95

THE END

Printed by R. & R. Clark, Edinburgh.