With the Russian Expedition
an old mud wall, now crumbling to decay. I rode into the bazaar and enquired for the Persian Governor. I was told he had gone to Tabriz. I then asked for the Assistant Governor, but he, they said, had gone off on a hunting journey into the mountains. Then I asked if there were any officials, police, gendarmes, or perhaps a new caravan-thief who might be aspiring to any of these posts. No. There were none of these as yet, though they were to be expected. "Who is in authority, then?" I asked. "There is no one", they said. "Every one is the authority." And it was true. The city had no government, and to all appearance required none. The merchants were going about their business in the bazaar as usual; the peasants were coming in to sell their produce; the Governor's house was empty, and there were no officials or police. Here indeed was a people, who had got as near as seems practicable to a state of passive anarchy. Again I saw Persian history written in these people. A town has no governor, and wants none, for he is an expense. A Khurdish shepherd from the mountains sees a town without a governor, so he appoints himself, becomes Viceroy, and finally Shah.
I spent the night in a caravanserai with a large company of Persian merchants, and an even larger company of vermin, and next morning went out to the Armenian village of Havtvan, where lived the Armenian bishop, Nerses. He kindly gave me a room to stay in while I was in Salmas. Next day I rode off to visit the Russian general in command of the Russian forces in North-west Persia. He was living in a little village at the edge of the plain. I arrived at the small Persian village after
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