CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

GILAN AND KHAMSA

The Caspian coastlands differ from all other parts of Persia by rea- son of the abundance of the rainfall (an annual average of 56 inches [142 cm] at Rasht as compared with about 9 [22 cm] at Tehran and 11 [28 cm] at Bushire), the extent of fresh surface water, and the humidity of the air. The province of Gilan extends around the south-west corner of this great inland sea, first southwards from the frontier of Transcau- casian Azarbayjan, and then eastwards to about the meridian of Teh- ran. The country falls into three distinct zones: first, the coastal plain of varying width, sometimes thickly wooded, sometimes a patchwork of jungle alternating with villages, rice-fields and orchards, and ordi- narily called by the local people ‘Gilan’ in a restricted, topographical sense; second, the forest-covered spurs runninng down eastwards and northwards from the Talish and Alburz watersheds on the west and south, in the local idiom the kulhāt; and thirdly the bare mountains above the forest line, snow-clad in winter and known simply as yaylaq, summer quarters. In the Gilan province the watershed is pierced only by the Safid Rud (the White River, the ancient Amidus) formed by the Qizil Uzun (the Red River) from the north-west and the Shah Rud (the King’s River) from the south-east. At the confluence the combined waters turn sharply north-eastwards to break through the barrier by a narrow rocky gorge before flowing on to the sea. It was in the wooded coastal plain to the west of the river that the redoubtable Kuchik Khan and his Janglis had their principal bases, but the forests to the east were also within the range of their operations. It did not take me long to decide that my first priority must be to make myself familiar with the situation in Gilan; and after eight days in Qazvin I left by car for Rasht to confer with Butters* and the A.P.O. Anzali, M. C. Warren, who, however, was due to leave for home very shortly. The road ran for the first sixty miles over bare, uninteresting hills to the Shah Rud, which it crossed by a brick bridge near the vil- lage of Lawshan. It then followed the right bank of that river for about twelve miles to the Qizil Uzun confluence near the village of Manjil. Here it was carried over the Safid Rud by a girder bridge of four spans, 252 chapter twenty-one

Manjil Bridge. From Fr. Rosen, Persien in Wort und Bild, Berlin/Leipzig/Wien/ Bern, Franz Schneider, 1926 and followed the left bank for another 25 miles before debouching into the coastal plain and turning away north-westwards to Rasht. Manjil, where there was a much-used marching post, had a very bad reputation with the troops. Owing to its position at the mouth of the gorge it was exposed to a violent wind blowing continuously through the funnel, so that the surrounding trees were growing bent over to an angle of 45 degrees. According to one regimental historian, L. R. Missen,1 “Ford vans were overturned, men were blown over, the air was always full of flying stones and dust, and the whole village swarmed with a vigorously offensive species of flea”. It was at Manjil, on another occasion, that I first encountered a curious superstition. I had stopped, by previous arrangement with the owner of the marching-post, to renew the rent agreement. He was just about to sign the new lease when one of the witnesses sneezed. The owner drew back his hand as if stung and looked round helplessly, wondering what to say or do. Fortunately the witness sneezed again, and all was well. I

1 [Leslie-Robert Missen, The History of the 7th Ser. Bn., Prince of Wales’s North Staffordshire Regiment, 1914–1919, Cambridge, W. Heffer & Sons, 1920.]