
Nishapur Turquoise: In the dusty archives of Tehran’s Golestan Palace Museum lies a remarkable photograph that has recently captured the attention of historians and gemstone enthusiasts alike. This extraordinary image, taken in 1894 (1312 in the Persian calendar), offers us an unprecedented glimpse into the ancient turquoise mines of Nishapur through the eyes of Abdollah Qajar, the court photographer of Naser al-Din Shah, the famous Qajar king of Persia.
A Royal Photographer’s Secret Mission
Abdollah Qajar was no ordinary photographer. As the exclusive court photographer for one of Iran’s most powerful rulers, he was entrusted with documenting the realm’s most valuable assets. In 1894, he embarked on a dangerous journey to the remote mountains of northeastern Iran, not merely to take photographs, but to conduct what appears to have been an intelligence mission of sorts – a comprehensive survey of one of the world’s most precious gemstone deposits.

The photograph, preserved in Album 291 of the Golestan Palace collection, shows a group of miners sitting at the entrance of a cave, breaking turquoise-bearing rocks. But it’s the detailed handwritten report that Abdollah Qajar penned in the margins of this photograph that makes it truly extraordinary. His meticulous notes provide us with the first detailed, eyewitness account of mining operations at Nishapur from over a century ago.
The Ancient Mines Revealed
According to Abdollah Qajar’s report, the Nishapur turquoise mines operated on two distinct levels during his visit. The first type was the mountain mines, where miners followed veins of turquoise-bearing rock deep into the mountainside. These weren’t simple surface operations – they were complex underground networks that required tremendous skill and courage to navigate.
The photographer describes entering the “Raees Cave” (Chief’s Cave), which plunged nearly 40 meters into the earth. This massive operation employed 60 workers and 9 supervisors, organised in a sophisticated hierarchy that speaks to the mine’s importance and complexity. The cave system was so intricate that it took different crews following separate veins, some of which had been worked continuously for years without being fully exhausted.
The Mysterious “Chah Shedadi”
Perhaps the most intriguing element of Abdollah Qajar’s account is his description of what he calls “Chah Shedadi” – the Shedadi Well. This ancient shaft, which served as a light well for the deeper mining operations, was already considered old when he visited in 1894. The photographer marvels at the engineering skill of the ancient miners who had carved these perfectly aligned shafts through solid rock to provide illumination for the workers below.
The name “Shedadi” itself is mysterious. While the exact origins are unclear, it may refer to an ancient mining technique or perhaps honour a master miner from centuries past. What’s certain is that this well represented a feat of ancient engineering that impressed even the sophisticated court photographer of the Persian Empire.
A Treacherous Underground Journey
Abdollah Qajar’s account of his descent into the mines reads like an adventure novel. After passing through the Shedadi Well, he describes crawling through increasingly narrow passages, often having to progress on his chest with his hands stretched forward. The tunnels followed the turquoise veins wherever they led, sometimes dropping three meters, sometimes climbing four meters higher, with the constant sounds of mining echoing through the darkness.
Eventually, he reached a larger chamber – a room approximately 37 square meters in size – where four supervisors worked by the light of sesame oil lamps. His unexpected appearance in these depths caused considerable surprise among the workers, who told him that no one had ever made such a dangerous journey into the mine’s deepest sections before.
Ancient Mining Techniques Preserved
The photographer’s detailed observations provide us with a fascinating window into 19th-century mining techniques that had probably remained unchanged for centuries. Workers would first drill holes in the rock face, then pack them with gunpowder to blast through the hard stone. After the controlled explosions, teams would sort through the rubble – some fragments required further breaking with hammers, while others could be immediately processed for turquoise extraction.
The most valuable fragments were carefully collected and transported by donkey to a processing area known as “Deh Firouzeh” (Turquoise Village), located about a mile from the mine entrance. There, children would carefully sift through the turquoise-bearing gravel using an ingenious technique involving goat horns and water. They would pile the stone fragments, add moisture to make the turquoise easier to spot, then use goat horns to carefully separate the valuable stones from worthless rock.
The Ardolani Cave: A Window to the Past
Beyond the main operations, Abdollah Qajar also explored what he called the Ardolani Cave, which faced west and appeared to be even older than the other workings. This ancient mine provided him with evidence of just how sophisticated earlier mining operations had been. The precision of the ancient shafts and the complexity of the tunnel systems convinced him that previous generations of miners had possessed remarkable tools and engineering knowledge.
A Mine of Ancient Fame
The Nishapur turquoise mines weren’t new even in 1894. Historical records show that these deposits have been famous for centuries. The 10th-century geographer Istakhri wrote about turquoise mines in the mountains of Nishapur and Tus. Ibn Hawqal, another medieval geographer, mentioned the various minerals found in the region, including turquoise. The anonymous author of “Hudud al-Alam,” written in 982 CE, specifically noted turquoise deposits in the Tus mountains.

This long history of recognition suggests that the mines had been in operation for at least a thousand years before Abdollah Qajar’s visit, making them not only one of the oldest continuously operating turquoise mines in the world but also one of the most consistently productive.
Economic and Social Structure
The photographer’s report also provides valuable insights into the economic and social organisation of the mines. The pay scale he recorded shows a clear hierarchy: supervisors earned three qirans (roughly equivalent to 3,000 dinars), hammer workers also earned three qirans, overseers earned two qirans, and child workers received half a qiran. This wage structure reflects both the skill levels required for different tasks and the economic value of the operation to the Persian Empire.
The sophisticated organisation of the workforce, with its clear chain of command and specialised roles, indicates that these weren’t small-scale artisanal operations but rather significant industrial enterprises that contributed meaningfully to the region’s economy.
Legacy of the Royal Survey
Abdollah Qajar’s mission appears to have been more than simple documentation. His detailed technical observations, precise measurements, and comprehensive reporting suggest that Naser al-Din Shah was conducting a thorough assessment of this valuable national resource. The photographer explicitly states that he entered the dangerous mine depths “for complete investigation and accurate reporting,” indicating that his photographs and notes were intended to inform royal policy regarding the mines.

This royal interest isn’t surprising given the economic importance of turquoise in Persian culture and international trade. Persian turquoise had been prized throughout the Islamic world and beyond for centuries, and the Nishapur mines were the primary source of the highest quality stones.
What Has Been Lost
Today, many of the features that Abdollah Qajar documented have been lost to time and modern mining operations. The mysterious Chah Shedadi, the ancient Ardolani Cave, and the traditional processing village of Deh Firouzeh have all disappeared as the mines have been modernised and expanded over the past century. This makes his photographic record and written observations invaluable historical documents.
The traditional techniques he observed – the use of goat horns for sorting, sesame oil lamps for illumination, and the complex system of manual rock breaking and sorting – have all been replaced by modern industrial methods. His account preserves not just the physical layout of the historical mine but also the human traditions and techniques that had evolved over centuries of continuous operation.
A Treasure Beyond Turquoise
While Abdollah Qajar went to Nishapur to document turquoise mining, he returned with something equally precious: a unique historical record that provides an unparalleled window into 19th-century Persian mining operations. His photograph and detailed margin notes represent one of the earliest comprehensive industrial surveys conducted in Iran, combining visual documentation with technical reporting in a way that was revolutionary for its time.
The mystery of Chah Shedadi may never be fully solved – we may never know exactly who created this ancient engineering marvel or when it was first carved from the living rock. But thanks to one royal photographer’s courage in descending into the dangerous depths of the Nishapur mines, we have a precious record of this lost world, preserved in both silver and ink for future generations to discover and appreciate.
This remarkable document reminds us that some of history’s most valuable treasures aren’t made of precious stones at all, but of the human stories and forgotten knowledge that connect us to our ancestors’ ingenuity and determination.


