The natives, we found out in after years, are able to keep it in bulk, and then the tendency to give an after headache goes away, but so does the delicious flavour. In winter so cold is Hamadan, that the wine, which is kept in huge jars holding two hundred maunds (or eight hundred bottles), or even more, sunk half their depth in the ground, has to be kept from freezing by making a hot-bed of fermenting horse-dung around the upper part of these jars, and often these means fail; for I have myself been present when blocks of frozen wine have been chopped out of the jars for drinking; these plans of storing wine only refer to Hamadan: in other Persian towns the wine, as soon as it is cleared, is placed in carboys, holding from six to twenty-four bottles.
It is sold in Hamadan in baghallis, or native bottles, holding about a pint and a half. They are of the very thinnest glass, and very fragile when empty. One of these bottlefuls costs about fourpence—at least it did when I was in Hamadan in 1869.
In a couple of days Major S⸺ left on his way to Baghdad, and Pierson insisted on my remaining his guest, which I was only too glad to do, till I could get servants, etc. of my own.
The first thing, however, was to buy a horse, as I could not draw my horse allowance from Government till I had really a horse of my own, and the three pounds a month was, considering the smallness of my pay, a consideration. Of course at that time I knew nothing about horses, and was fortunate in having the advice of Pierson. As soon as it was given out that I wanted horses there was a permanent levée at our quarters of all the owners of the lame, the halt and the blind, and their animals. These men, however, were all sent to the right-about by Pierson, and at last a dealer came with four likely young horses; these were examined and pronounced sound. On their price being asked, one hundred tomans each was demanded. I was disappointed, for this was exactly the sum (forty pounds) that I was prepared to give for two horses. But I was reassured by Pierson, who made me understand that that was always the price asked for any beast worth having, and merely meant that the seller did not mean to take less than one half the amount. I was told, too, that if one wanted to buy a horse anywhere near its value some weeks must be taken in the negotiation. The matter ended in Pierson’s offering the dealer fifty tomans for two of the animals, and the man leaving our courtyard in simulated indignation, declining even to notice a bid so ridiculous. However, as Pierson said we had not seen the last of him, I did not despair.
Next morning, on coming out to breakfast, I saw our horse-dealer seated with the servants, and as Pierson put it, “They are settling the amount of commission they are each to get, and this commission they will have; ten per cent. is legitimate, more is robbery. So all we have to do is to be very determined; if you can get any two of the four animals for your limit you will do well, if not you must let them go.”
Pierson now sent for his head-man and told him that “I was to have two serviceable horses for forty pounds, and that I should not pay a penny more; so, as he knew the amount of modakel (profit) he and the rest of the servants could make, he had better do the best he could for me, and that he (Pierson) would see that I was not done as to quality.” The man cast up his eyes and retired.
While we were at breakfast a poor prince, Abu Saif Mirza, came, and was invited to partake. Pierson told me that he was a very good fellow indeed, and a grandson of Futteh-Ali Shah,[7] a former Shah of Persia, but from the irregularity with which his very small pension was paid, he had to live almost by his gun, and chance meals, such as the present.
Of course I could not understand what he said, but he fully entered into the difficulty as to finding me a horse. And as in Persia nothing can be done without stratagem, he suggested on the spot a means for bringing the dealer to his senses; it was deep, “deep as the deep blue sea.” It was simply this: he would exhibit his horse to Pierson and promise to send it for trial to-morrow, naming a price just about its value, and “then you will see all will be well.”
No sooner was breakfast over than the prince’s horse was brought into the courtyard, stripped and examined, and the suggested arrangement made. As it happened I afterwards bought this very horse for Pierson to make a wedding present of, but he would have been more than I could manage at the time, being a spirited beast and a puller. The Shahzadeh (prince) took his departure, promising loudly to send his horse round in the morning.
No sooner was he gone than the nazir, or head-servant, presented himself and delivered to Pierson an oration somewhat of this sort. “May I represent to the service of the sahib, that it would be very unwise to purchase the horse of the prince? he is not young” (he was five years old), “he is gone in the wind” (he was quite sound), “and his temper is awful; besides this I have reason to know that he is worthless in every respect” (he was one of the best horses I ever saw, and I knew him for ten years). “Of course to me it would make a great difference, for the prince has indeed offered me a handsome commission” (quite untrue), “while from this poor dealer not a farthing can be wrung by the servants. No! he would rather die than pay one farthing. So though the other servants are loath to let a sale take place to my sahib’s friend, yet I, as an old servant, and looking for a reward from my sahib for conduct so disinterested, have after infinite trouble got the dealer to consent to a hundred and fifty tomans for any two of his four horses.”