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

The cost of living in Persia is very low; and to give an insight into the actual expense of housekeeping, I may say that on about five hundred pounds a year I was able to live in Ispahan, keeping—

These servants all clothed themselves, and were not fed by me, save in sharing the remnants of the meals.

About fourteen pounds of tobacco was expended in my house, at a cost of eight kerans, each month.

A substantial breakfast of three or four courses was served at twelve, tea and a snack being taken on waking. And a solid meal of four courses and a dessert was taken at eight as dinner. Tea and cakes at four, previous to the daily ride.

The bill for messing myself, my wife, two children, and our English nurse, together with our horse-keep for five horses, our house rent being included, and the servants’ pay, was about thirty-five pounds a month. Of course our English nurse’s wages were not included in this, nor our bill for European wines and tinned provisions. These latter were, however, quite needless, save when travelling, when it is difficult to obtain supplies, or anything but the roughest food. I found the cost of living[16] pretty much the same in Ispahan, Teheran, and Shiraz. At Hamadan and Kermanshah prices used to be much less, but are now, I think, nearly the same.

As I previously stated, no European goes himself to the bazaar. To conclude a bargain with any Persian shopkeeper great haggling and waste of time is required; and so high are their ideas of the wealth of the Europeans, that it would be hopeless to attempt to deal with them personally. Honesty cannot be expected in the Ispahani or Teherani, but the Shirazi may be pretty fairly relied upon.

A peculiar custom is in force in Ispahan, which is possibly legal by the religious law. A man comes to a merchant and makes a bargain. In the morning he makes “Dubbeh,” i. e. repents of his bargain, calmly stating, “Makhmūn shūd um” (“I have been deceived”). And now the bargain is off! This is frequently done either to lower the price a little, or, when the article is a fluctuating one, such as opium, to take advantage of a rise or fall in the market. For this reason it is, that all contracts have to be in writing, and generally something is paid on account to bind the slippery Ispahani.

The difference between wholesale and retail is very great, the retailer not taking generally a profit of less than twenty per cent. The usual rate of interest in the bazaar is twelve per cent. per annum, i. e. one per cent. per mensem, simple interest. Most, in fact nearly all, mercantile transactions are on credit, discount for cash or a cash price being the exception. In fact, so common is credit that the price of a thing is quoted at so many months. Thus, in the case of loaf-sugar, it may be, say a toman (seven and sixpence) a maund of fourteen pounds and four months’ credit, or, when very cheap, eighteen months’ credit. The price would be quoted as either four or eighteen, meaning the amount of credit allowed, the actual price being the same. Most of the wholesale trade is done through brokers, who act as commercial travellers, and solicit orders on commission, which they generally manage to extract from both buyer and seller. Among the brokers a few honest men may be found, but they are rare exceptions.

The tager, or merchant class, are generally the most bigoted and penurious of the Persian race. Only on retiring from business do they dare to launch out into ostentation; for the mere suspicion of wealth in Persia exposes them to the exactions of those in power.

All disputes among merchants are settled by the mushtaheds, or teachers of religious law. No court fees are paid openly, but heavy bribes are often administered. Most questions are submitted by mutual consent to arbitration, and a mejlis (council of merchants) appointed by the disputants generally meet at the house of some mūlla, or religious personage. These, acting as assessors, settle the matter to the satisfaction of both parties. A definite judgment is seldom given for either plaintiff or defendant. A compromise is nearly always suggested and carried out. Cases of flagrant miscarriage of justice are not frequent. When they do occur, the merchants generally decline to resort to the court of the particular judge until he reconsiders the unsatisfactory decision, or by petition to the capital they effect his removal if obdurate. As both sides bribe, as a matter of course the judgments are generally fair, always specious. These bribes are termed “rūshwah” (manure).

The bazaaz, or shopkeeper, is the class next below the merchant. He obtains everything on credit, and has frequently no capital of his own. As a rule he has two prices, one for cash, the other for credit. To his credit customers he gives the worst of his merchandise, and tries to defraud them in the weight. The cash customers, whom he is very desirous of retaining, he treats better.

The “kossib,” or handicraftsman, is, as a rule, an honest man. Healthy competition is kept up by the various trades being located together, but this is merely by force of custom, and is not compulsory. Thus, all the coppersmiths work in one bazaar, and the noise caused by their hammering is deafening.

All of the wares made by natives are of the most solid and substantial kind; cooking pots, always of solid copper, last for generations, and when eventually worn out, are sold as old copper, at half the price of new ones. The silversmiths also usually work in the same neighbourhood; some among them are very skilful, but the coarse work required by the villagers tends to lower the tone of the articles turned out. Thin plates of silver hammered into patterns of raised flowers and arabesque work are in great request as mirror frames; the sheet of silver is backed with pitch and hammered; the effect is good. Silver articles are made which are afterwards chiselled in high relief in patterns similar to the Scinde work. Armlets to hold talismans (telism) are in great demand; they are called bazū-band, and are made of gold, silver, or damascened steel, often inlaid with gold.

The “pūlad,” or damascened steel, is beautifully veined, and much of it is ornamented with work à jour and inlaid with gold. But the almost prohibitive prices asked for this pūlad work and the constant demand for export render it very expensive.

The classes of shoemakers are many: the kafsh-dooz, or slipper-maker, as we should term him, makes the coloured leather, or shagreen slippers worn by the women; these only just reach the commencement of the heel, and when new are very elegant. They are shod with iron heels, which is a separate trade of itself. The orussee-dooz, or men’s shoemaker, is another trade. The chekme-dooz, or riding-boot-maker, a third; these boots are always made loose enough to kick off, and are practically better for long journeys on horseback than European boots. There is also the ghēva-dooz, who makes the ghēva or cotton shoe, by sewing together the knitted cotton top, or “jurab”—literally sock, made by the village women—to the sole, which is made by another trade, and formed of rags sewn together and tipped with horn. These ghēvas are light and cool, and very good for walking in; they are usually worn only in summer, and on the naked foot; they are unsurpassable in the foothold their broad soft sole gives for mountain climbing. When dirty they are whitened with pipeclay. The price is from two kerans to five kerans for an ordinary pair; it is possible to give a pound for an elaborate or embroidered pair.

The zangal, or leggings, are made of leather, and cover the space between the knee and ankle; they are affected by tribesmen, grooms, and muleteers as being cheaper than boots and as useful. They are often elaborately ornamented with embroidered leather. They are worn with ghēvas, sandals, or coarse shoes. The “terkesh-dooz,” or harness-maker, is the seller and maker of leather goods, such as holsters, harness, saddlery, etc.

The attār, or apothecary, sells all the drugs in use in the country, and most of the drysaltery, also tea.

The aleph sells grain, grass, and cut straw, also clover which is dried in ropes, wood, and charcoal.

The bakkal, or general dealer, sells groceries, dried fruits, and all that is sold by the oilman in England. Some of the goods sold by the aleph, who generally only sells wholesale, are retailed by the bakkal to the little people.

The dyer in Persia drives a roaring trade, as the cotton cloth, shirting, or longcloth, as the case may be, is often bought and afterwards dyed. The dyer, or rangraz, may always be known by his arms, which are stained a deep blue, or other colour, generally blue, as indigo is most used; all the shulwar (trousers) of the men and veils of the women, and most of the shirts of the lower orders, being dyed fast by indigo. The Persians dislike dyes that are not fast, as the aniline, and prefer the old ones, such as madder and indigo.

The tailor (“khyat”) in all cases makes up the materials of his clients, and ready-made clothing, or “slops,” are unknown. The tailor always cuts out the coat in presence of the customer. The price for making a coat is about one toman, or two or three kerans for a day’s work by a master tailor. The seamstress is glad to take a less figure, and goes out to work for half a keran a day and her breakfast. All sewing is invariably done with silk, which is sold by weight.

The ūtūkash, or ironer, is employed to ornamentally iron the dresses of the lower orders that are made of coloured calico or longcloth. This he does by ironing a pattern upon them with the edges of his iron, generally a box-iron filled with charcoal; often, however, merely a heated rod. He irons upon a large jar, which he holds between his knees. He also marks the stuffs that are to be quilted for under-garments.

The shops of the potter are frequent. Pans for charcoal, jars for the storing of grain, are made of sun-dried clay, while a variety of burnt-clay articles are exposed for sale; cheap kalian and chibouque heads, flower-pots of blue, green, and purple glaze, tiles, kūmrahs or jars for wine, water, or vinegar, goglets, pans, and drinking-vessels innumerable for holding water; these are porous, and keep it cool. This ware is pale greenish yellow, and very fragile; the best is made at Kashan. Other non-porous and stronger vessels are made of red clay, and are glazed of various colours. A black clay is frequently employed, and decorated with silvery lines; the effect of this is good.

The art of making pottery with a reflet métallique is now lost in Persia. The wall tiles now so much valued in Europe are seldom seen in sitû. Clever imitations are made in Ispahan, but the art of making the metallic (reflet) lustre is gone. Most of the bricks that are not protected, by the fact of being in shrines, have been already stolen, and fear of the consequences of detection is all that protects the rest. All is fish that comes to the net, and the local magnates would sell the big monolith of Yezd marble, which covers the grave of Hafiz, for a price.

The caravanserais in the principal towns are surrounded by hoojrahs or offices; these are protected by an orussee or glass window or by wooden shutters. In these hoojrahs the merchant transacts his business, and in the inner room or umbar, which is approached by a low, heavy door from the outer office, is his strong box and the more valuable of his merchandise.

The banker in Persia is looked on simply as a small tradesman—in fact, the business of the serof is despised; as being a usurer on the sly, he cannot be a good Mussulman, to whom usury is forbidden. His office is often merely a stall in the bazaar, at which are exposed old bracelets, gold, silver, and copper coin, and jewels always full of flaws. His principal profit consists in the remittance of moneys from town to town, and the buying and selling of bills on India and London. A few bankers have offices in the caravanserais, and are in the position of merchants, but there are no mahogany counters, no rows of clerks; a couple of scribes and a black slave often comprise the whole staff, but the bankers manage to do all that is needful with this small assistance. Gold, until recently, was seldom seen, and as everything was paid in kerans and half-kerans, counting was very tedious—bad kerans common. The usual way was to count a small amount, such as ten tomans in kerans, and then weigh heaps of ten tomans each. Some of the bankers are very reliable, and have accumulated considerable wealth. Hadji Mirza Kerim of Shiraz is one of these, and he is one of the few instances of a banker thoroughly respected as a good Mussulman by his fellow-townsmen, and as a good man by Europeans and Persians. The Ispahani is so well known for trickery that Hadji Mahommed Saduk, the Crœsus of Shiraz, a native of Ispahan, but trading and residing in Shiraz, informed me himself “that a merchant in Ispahan to live must cheat, and to thrive must steal.”