In the land of the lion and sun, or, modern Persia

by C. J. Wills

The Muschir—His policy and wealth—His struggle with the king’s uncle—He is bastinadoed—His banishment to Kerbela—The Kawam—Mirza Naim—Siege of Zinjan—Cruelties to Mirza Naim—Reply to an author’s statement—Cashmere shawls—Anecdote—Garden of Dilgoosha—Warm spring—“Sau-Sau-Rac”—The Well of Death—Execution—Wife-killing—Tomb of Rich—Tomb of Hafiz—Tomb of Saadi—A moral tale—Omens—Incident at tomb of Hafiz.

The two principal men of Shiraz are the Kawam,[24] the calamter or mayor of the town, in whose family the dignity has been for some generations hereditary; and the Muschir,[25] an aged official who has held all the offices of the province of Fars: he has farmed the customs, collected the revenue, been the minister (really responsible Governor) of the young prince during his nonage, he has even been Governor himself; rising from a small official, Abol Hassan Khan has succeeded in enriching himself and at the same time making many friends and dependants; his rivals have generally gradually succumbed to his vigorous policy, and the free system of bribery at Teheran adopted by the Muschir has generally removed them from his path; when that has failed he has not scrupled to have recourse to other measures. Careful to allow himself to be looted, at times nearly ruined, by the powerful king’s uncle, the Hissam-u-Sultaneh, he has always thus secured a friend at court, and while feathering his own nest during the governorship of the Zil-es-Sultan, he has always satisfied the young prince by large subsidies. Having several daughters, all ladies of mature age and all married save the favourite child—for whom he obtained the title of Lika-ul-Molk—on the Muschir’s death, the Governor of Shiraz, whoever he may happen to be, will have a gigantic prize. After fifty years of successful official life the savings of the old man must be enormous; besides his own estates, which are very large, he inherited the entire property of his brother, a very wealthy man, and much of that of his son-in-law, the late Governor of Fussa. In 1879 and 1880, however, came an evil day for him. Khosro Mirza, the Motummad-ul-Molk and uncle of the king, was made Governor of Fars. This powerful and politic prince had on a previous occasion been compelled to leave Shiraz, and was subsequently deprived of his governorship by the successful intrigues of the Muschir, whose son-in-law, specially kept at Teheran for the purpose of having access to the royal ear, had administered on the Muschir’s behalf bribes to the king, to such an amount as to induce the Shah to deprive his uncle of his governorship, and to appoint a man of straw, thus giving the real power into the hands of the Muschir. And now came the day of reckoning. The Muschir became, as it were, a prisoner in his own house. The Kawam, his wealthy and ancient rival, was at once taken into the Governor’s favour, and titles of honour and local governorships conferred on his son, a youth long supposed to be an idiot, but who now showed a capacity for Persian political life which astonished even his own people. The hungry sons of the Motummad, despatched into the richest governorships of the province, proceeded to fleece the dependants of the Muschir. And to be a dependant, friend, or adherent of the old man became a crime.

Mirza Mahomoud, the secretary of the Muschir, was arrested, his house and property arbitrarily confiscated, and his accumulations wrung from him as the price of his life. And at last the Governor seized the Muschir himself, and actually administered a severe bastinado to his enemy, now an old man of seventy-five: the Muschir’s life was also attempted by poison. All that could be confiscated was taken, the ready cash and jewels to an enormous amount became the property of the Motummad-ul-Molk (the king’s uncle) and his sons, while claims were made against the Muschir for great amounts.

But though Khosro Mirza hungered for the old man’s life, he had yet influence sufficient at the capital to preserve it, and an order came that the Muschir should retire to Kerbela (in Turkey), the shrine of the prophets Houssein and Hassan, there to end his life in prayer and repentance. But the Muschir may yet prove a thorn in the side of his enemies; he is now back in Shiraz and apparently inactive.

The Kawam (grandson of the celebrated Hadji Kawam of Shiraz, executed by boiling to death), after being for some years in the shade, through the successful intrigues of the Muschir, is now in the full blaze of power. His son has his foot in the stirrup of success, and he is the only local man in real power in the province of Fars. Rather boorish in manner, the Kawam is kind and honest, liberal and true to his adherents in adversity; it remains to be seen whether he will show the politic moderation of the Muschir, who never made an enemy unless he was able to remove him. The system of the Kawam has been to strengthen his local influence by marriages of the various members of his family, and his open and honest, if at times obstinate, policy has made him many personal friends, more valuable than those of the Muschir, whose adherents were either mercenary or those who for their safety assumed the name.

The policy of the Governors of Fars has invariably been to play off the Kawam against the Muschir, so taking bribes from both, but never destroying either. However, one thing is quite certain, the Kawam is an old and honoured citizen of Shiraz without a personal enemy save the Muschir, while the latter does not possess a real friend, and being heirless may fall a victim to some unscrupulous Governor, who may take his life on some pretext, secretly or openly, for the sake of the pickings from his still gigantic estates.

Another grandee of Shiraz was Mirza Naim, the paymaster of the forces of Fars, a military officer of high rank and great age. (He was the general who in the time of the Baabi revolt besieged the walled city of Zinjan, the capital of a province of Persia held by those fanatics; the place was obstinately defended, the women even appearing on the walls, and fighting and dying for the sake of their ridiculous creed. On the taking of the city by assault, a kuttl-i-aum, or general massacre, was ordered, and the atrocities committed were too horrible to mention.) The Governor of Fars (at that time, 1870-5), the Zil-es-Sultan, wishing to wring a large fine, and a considerable sum of money supposed to have been appropriated by the paymaster-general, after numerous indignities placed Mirza Naim in a snow-chair—the man was seventy-five years of age—compelled him to drink water-melon juice, to produce the well-known diuretic effect, and while the sufferer was frozen to the snow-seat, caused a dog to be placed on his lap, thus insulting his aged co-religionist. Although the man had borne these horrible tortures for some hours, he now consented to pay the sum demanded. Of course the result to his aged frame was not long in doubt; he soon succumbed to the effects of the injuries he received.

I am particular in describing his treatment from the Zil-es-Sultan, as it shows the improbability of the story told by a radical politician who recently travelled through Persia, and among other marvellous tales inserted the groundless calumny, seen at page 15, volume ii., of Mr. Arthur Arnold’s ‘Through Persia by Caravan,’ in which he says, “A European doctor, to his shame be it said, talking one day with the Zil-i-Sultan [sic] upon the interesting topic of torture, suggested an ancient method which, we were told, at once struck the prince as applicable to the snowy regions of Ispahan. To draw the teeth of Jews who refused gifts to the Government was the practice in days when the civilisation of England was no more advanced than that of Persia; but I never heard before of stuffing a man’s trousers with snow and ice as an efficient way of combating his refusal to pay a large demand in the season when the thermometer stands—as it does in Central Persia—for months below zero.” Now, as possibly I may be alluded to under the vague title of “A European doctor,” not many of whom exist in Persia to speak to the Zil-es-Sultan, and the story is glibly told by this author, yet I fancy that it will not be credited, even on the statement of the retailer of scandals, said to be heard, through interpreters, from Orientals; when it is considered that it was hardly needful to apprise the Zil-es-Sultan of a means of cruelty, since he was so ingenious as to use the very same old method on a general of over seventy-five, some years before—I being in Shiraz at the time, as the prince well knew—and the supposed refinement of cruelty no new thing to the prince.[26] When an author swallows and repeats such yarns, as that one of our sergeants shot an unoffending Armenian, etc.—the unoffending Armenian and the shooting being alike myths (see vol. ii. p. 167, etc.)—one can only suppose that the capacity for swallowing such tough stories is equalled by the pleasure found in retailing them. Whoever the cap fits—and I do not believe it fits any one—it does not fit me, and I will not wear it. One can only pity a man who travels through a country, mostly by night in a closed litter, with his eyes very tightly shut and his ears very widely open, all whose facts are hearsay, and most of whose deductions are mistaken.

One of the means of making presents used by the great in Persia is the giving of Cashmere shawls; the gift of a shawl is supposed to be an honour as well as a money payment to the recipient. Among other presents made to me by the Persians in my professional capacity was a pair of handsome shawls; as it is not expected that these should be retained, and as they were useless to me as dress-stuffs, for which they are used by the upper classes in Persia of both sexes, I disposed of one for eighteen pounds in the bazaar to a merchant, and retained the other as a present to my mother. On taking it to England I was astonished to find that it was unappreciated, and still more surprised to learn that, as it was made in several strips, as are all the real Cashmere shawls that go to Persia, and fringeless, it was nearly absolutely valueless; in fact, one of the large West End drapers offered as a favour to give me thirty shillings for it. I took it back to Persia, as my mother said it was useless to her, and sold it for twenty pounds, my servant probably making a five pound commission on the transaction.

Under the hills, some mile and a half from Shiraz, is the garden of the Dilgooshah, or “Heartsease,” the property of the Kawam; in the middle is a large and solid brick building, having a small tank in the centre, the water flowing into which is warm, about 70° Fahrenheit. Above the tank is a dome, once decorated with a large picture of a battle; this was painted on plaster, but all, save a few pieces, has crumbled away. The garden is planted with orange-trees, and is very large.