VIII Beside the Persian Gulf
It is a familiar remark that the essential difference between the civilization of the East and that of the West is disclosed in the status of woman in each of these regions of the earth. Erman, in writing of the women of Egypt, broadly remarks that in the West woman is “the companion of man, while in the East she is his servant and toy. In the West at one time, the esteem in which woman was held rose to a cult, while in the East, the question has frequently been earnestly discussed whether woman really belonged to the human race.” But he justly adds, this is not absolutely fair, either to the East or to the West. While in India woman has been denied a soul, and among the Teutonic tribes she was honored with a superstitious reverence, yet not all the veneration can be accounted upon the one side, nor all the degradation upon the other. Among the primitive Aryan peoples woman’s place appears to have been no mean one. The early traditions of the women of Bactria, ancient Iran, and the region of the Oxus converge with those preserved in the Rigveda of the Hindoos to indicate a high degree of respect for woman, for marriage, and for the other domestic virtues.
The science of comparative philology has helped us to discover some of the primitive ideas attached to the names of the female members of the household. The root ma, matar, “mother,” signifies the creatrix, “she who brings children into the world.” The coming of a girl into the countries bordering on the Persian Gulf does not seem to have been the matter of regret that it was so frequently in the Orient; for the name “sister” appears to be connected with svasti, “good,” or “good fortune”; while the daughter manifestly held the important place, in the pastoral life of the times, of milkmaid, from duhitar, “she who brings the milk from the cows.”
Lenormant, writing of this ancient period, says: “Marriage was a consecrated and free act, preceded by betrothal and symbolized by the joining of hands. The husband, in the presence of the priest, both while the priestly office was invested in the head of the family, and also after the priesthood became separate, took the right hand of the bride, pronouncing certain sacred formulæ; the bride was then conducted on a wagon drawn by two white oxen. The father of the bride presented a cow to his son-in-law, this was intended originally for the wedding feast, but in later times it was taken to the house of the bridegroom; this was the dowry, an emblem of agricultural richness. The bride’s hair was parted with a dart; she was conducted around the domestic hearth and was then received at the door of her new abode with a present of fire and water.”
Many of these ancient customs which prevailed in the regions of Irania in the earliest times existed in the various branches of the Indo-European family in their scattered locations. There may be mentioned the fire ordeal, such a trial as that through which the virtuous Sita, heroine of the Ramayana, was compelled by her suspicious husband King Rama to pass in order to destroy his suspicions. There were two methods of testing a woman’s virtue. By the first, she must pass unharmed through a trench filled with live coals. In the second, a succession of concentric circles, about ten inches apart, was marked out. A red-hot lance head, or another piece of similarly heated metal, must be carried by the accused woman without being burnt across the first eight circles and thrown into the ninth, and it must even then be sufficiently hot to scorch the grass within the last circle. If the hand that bore the red-hot metal was not burnt, the innocence of the accused was established.
In the legendary period of Persia’s history woman performs an honorable and—it is needless to add—a romantic part. Indeed, there has been an interest of romance attached to Persia from the early days when Herodotus travelled and Xenophon gave the world his Cyropædia. Persia’s great epic poets, notably Firdausi in Shahnamah, have preserved many of the early traditions of this land. More particularly do the deeds which gather about the name of Shah Jamshid, one of the earliest of Persian rulers, stand out in bold character. According to the ancient legend, it was he who not only introduced the handicrafts of weaving, of embroidering upon woollen, cotton, and silken stuffs, but also it was he who divided the people into the four social strata,—priests, warriors, traders, and husbandmen. Both these contributions to Persia’s early history may be said to be of prime importance in the development of the womanhood of the country. Of this king many interesting stories are related, episodes in which heroic womanhood conspicuously figures. War and love, deeds of daring and of chivalry hold a large place in the Persian legends.
The thrilling stories of King Jamshid’s meeting with the irresistible daughter of Gureng, King of Zabulistan; of their love and marriage; the legend of the fair Tahmimah, daughter of the King of Semangan, and how she fascinated and led captive the love of the youthful warrior Rustam, whose fame had come to her ears; the unhappy trick by which she deceived her absent husband, saying that the infant born to them was a girl, so that the child might be left with her,—a deception which ended in the tragedy of young Suhrab’s death at the hands of his own father; Rustam and Tahmimah’s death from grief; the romantic finding of a queen for King Kai Kaus, a lady who was to become the mother of King Saiawush; the story of Byzun and the fair Princess Manijeh—all these, and more, render the Persian epic literature rich in tales of love and chivalry.
It is out of the long and bloody struggles between the Iranians and the Turanians, who for over ten centuries battled for supremacy, that the early epic stories have largely sprung. There was no prejudice in the ancient days of Persia against a strenuous as well as an amatory life for womankind.
In the chapter upon the women of the Assyro-Babylonian people, the story of Semiramis, the illustrious queen, has been told. So widespread was the legend, however, that it belongs to the Persians as well as to the inhabitants of the Tigris-Euphrates basin. The story was well known in the region of Armenia, and may have been introduced into Persian history because of its political value.
Among the early women of distinction must be named Homai, who has indeed been identified with “the Persian Semiramis.” She was a princess of renown and daughter of Bahman, and to her has been given the credit of being the author of a collection of tales known as Hezar Afsane, which comprises about two hundred stories told upon a thousand nights. It is from this collection by the Princess Homai that many suppose the Arabian Nights was constructed. How much of the material from the former went to make up the latter is not capable of present proof, but that the general idea and plan and some of the names, and the groundwork of many of the tales, were borrowed from the work of the Persian princess seems quite certain. Homai is mentioned in the Avesta, the sacred book of the Persians; and the Persian poet Firdausi makes her the daughter as well as wife of Artaxerxes Longimanus. Her mother is said to have been a Jewess, Shahrazaad, among the captives brought from Jerusalem to Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar. She is reported as having delivered her nation from captivity, and has been identified with Esther of the Hebrew Scriptures, as well as with Shahrazaad the Jewess of the Arabian Nights. Professor Gottheil thinks that the case here is well made out by Kuenen and others. The period of Cyrus the Great brings us upon the borderland between legend and history. Very romantic is the story told by Herodotus concerning the mother of Cyrus. Astyages, the Medean king, had a daughter named Mandane. This young woman was given in marriage to Cambyses, son of Theispes. Shortly after this, King Astyages had a dream in which there appeared a vine springing from his daughter Mandane and spreading till it had overshadowed all Asia. Wishing to know the meaning of this unusual dream, Astyages received from the Magi the interpretation that a son of Mandane should some day reign in his place. Alarmed at this, the king called a trusted servant, Harpagus, and commanded that he make plans to put to death the infant to which Mandane was soon to give birth; and the wife of Cambyses was closely guarded. Harpagus, however, unwilling himself to be guilty of so bloody a crime, directed that a herdsman of the king expose the infant son on a desert mountain, where its death would be certain. The herdsman, however, instead of leaving the little one to perish, reared him himself instead of his own stillborn son. The child received the name of Agradates, but later that of Cyrus, who by his achievements won the cognomen “The Great.” According to Ctesias, Cyrus, after defeating Astyages, married his daughter Amytis, who had been the wife of a Mede named Spitaces, whom Cyrus put to death. Herodotus, as we have seen, says that the mother of Cyrus was a daughter of Astyages. The two statements may be both correct, however, since an Oriental conqueror would not hesitate to marry his mother’s sister if the procedure gave him greater power over a conquered territory.
It was a woman, according to Herodotus, who at length brought the great conqueror Cyrus to his end. Desiring to vanquish the Massagetæ, a warlike tribe inhabiting the steppes north of the river Jaxartes, he sent out his army, with the greater confidence of victory since this people was then governed by a woman. When the Queen of the Massagetæ, Tomyris, perceived the approach of the large army of Persians and the work of building bridges across the Jaxartes, she sent a herald to Cyrus, proposing a fair and open contest between the two forces, on whichever side of the river Cyrus might select. Cyrus chose the side of the river next the Massagetæ, but made use of a piece of strategy by which the Massagetæ were defeated and the queen’s son, who led in the battle, was captured. Queen Tomyris, on hearing of the disaster, wrote a bitter message to Cyrus, and threatened revenge that would be most direful if her son were not returned alive. Cyrus gave no heed to the threat. Thereupon, Tomyris mobilized all the forces of her kingdom against the Persian army. “Of all the combats in which the barbarians have ever engaged among themselves,” says the ancient historian, “I reckon this to have been the fiercest.” First, the armies stood apart and shot their deadly arrows. When the quivers were all emptied, the forces joined in hand-to-hand encounter with lances and daggers, neither yielding, till at length the army of the queen prevailed by the destruction of the larger part of the Persian army. Cyrus himself was slain; and as Tomyris passed his bloody corpse, she heaped insults upon it, saying: “I live, and have conquered thee in fight; and yet by thee I am ruined, for thou tookest my son with guile; but thus I make good my threat, and give thee thy fill of blood.”
The story of Araspes and Panthea, related by Xenophon, is one of the earliest pieces of romantic fiction. It is told in the Cyropædia, and is intended to illustrate the steadfastness and virtue of the great Cyrus. Among the early gifts to the conqueror was a Susian lady, wife of Abradates, King of the Susians, and regarded as the most beautiful woman in Asia. Cyrus, never having yet seen her, committed her to the care of Araspes till he might call for her. But the guardian fell so in love with his fair ward that he feared the displeasure of Cyrus. The king, however, astutely seizing upon his supposed anger toward Araspes, decides to send him, as if a fugitive, to the enemy, that information might be received by Araspes and communicated to him. Moreover, Panthea now sends to Cyrus a message that her own husband Abradates would himself become a fast friend to her lord, should he be allowed the privilege of coming to him. Thus Cyrus, unlike many another king and warrior, by supreme self-control in the matter of his loves gained friends and subdued enemies.
The kings of Persia, while usually marrying but one legal wife, enjoyed the universal custom of supporting a vast harem, and of inviting into it daughters of neighboring kings. Usually the purposes were peaceful, but sometimes they were of a hostile character. This was the case when Cambyses, having resolved to carry out his father’s plan of making a conquest of Egypt, demanded of Amasis, Egypt’s king, his daughter in marriage, hoping thereby to pick a quarrel. Amasis replied by sending, not his own daughter, but another damsel of his realm, who, unable or unwilling to keep the secret, divulged to Cambyses the deception that had been practised upon him. The Persian king desired no better pretext for war, and the marriage trick was avenged by Egypt’s fall.
The wives of the kings sometimes exerted much influence in the realm, either for good or bad. Amestris, the only lawful wife of Xerxes, is said to have been instrumental in the death of her husband by the hands of two of his chief men. Amestris was his own cousin. That she instigated this murder is not at all improbable, since there was ample ground for jealousy on her part because of the notorious gallantries of Xerxes. Indeed, the Hebrew Book of Esther draws a picture of the corruptions of his court which in general outline is certainly true to the facts.
Royal personages sometimes married their own sisters. This, however, was contrary to the ancient custom. Cambyses, who succeeded Cyrus upon the throne, fell in love with Meroe, his youngest sister, and wished to marry her. Not wishing to fly in the face of the custom of the Persians, he called together the judges of the empire and inquired of them whether there might not be a law which allowed the marriage of brother and sister. The judges informed him that there was no such law among the Persians, but that there was a law allowing the king to do whatever he pleased. Disgusted and enraged, the king ordered his sister to be put to death; so that if marriage with her was prohibited to him, it might not be possible to a lesser man. This was no surprise, however, to a people who had known of the cruelties of this tyrant, whose own brother Smerdis had been brutally executed at his command. Cambyses having died of a self-inflicted wound, his successor, known as the Pseudo-Smerdis, or Gomates, married all his predecessor’s wives—a common custom among Oriental monarchs; for the harem might easily be regarded as a part of the spoils of conquest, or of the inheritance, as the case might be. Gomates kept his numerous wives confined in separate apartments, for the intrigues of the seraglio were the bane of the Persian as of the other Oriental dynasties.
When Darius I. came into possession of the Persian throne he proceeded to add dignity to his kingly claims by marrying Atossa, daughter of Cyrus, who had already been successively the wife of her brother Cambyses and of the false claimant Smerdis. Such political and incestuous marriages became quite common in Persia. One might marry not only a sister, but a daughter, and even a mother. At the instigation of Parysatis, Artaxerxes II., her son, married his own daughter.
Atossa figures in an interesting story, which may, however, lack historic truthfulness. Democedes, a physician of Crotona, had healed the injured foot of Darius, and was now called upon to visit Atossa in an illness. Democedes, anxious to return to his native land, sees his opportunity. Atossa, healed of her malady, is induced to appear before Darius and reproach him for idly sitting still and not extending the Persian dominion. “A man who is young,” said she, “and lord of vast kingdoms should do some great thing, that the Persians may know it is a man who rules over them.” Darius replied that he was even then preparing an expedition against the Scythians. “Nay,” answered his wife, “do not fight against the Scythians, for I have heard of the beauty of the women of Hellas and desire to have Athenian and Spartan maidens among my slaves, and thou hast here one who above all men can show thee how thou mayest do this—I mean he who hath healed thy foot.” Atossa prevailed. But the expedition was only a reconnoitring party sent out in ships to Greece and Italy. Democedes reached his home, and sent Darius word that he could not return, because he had married the daughter of Milon the wrestler; but the expedition met only with disaster.
That Persian women of royalty often took no inconsiderable part in political and military activity is illustrated by many examples from the days of Persia’s strength. Xenophon has immortalized the zeal of Parysatis in her efforts at placing her son Cyrus, the younger, upon the throne, and her plottings in his behalf against his elder brother Artaxerxes. Parysatis failed, but won no small power even in her unsuccessful efforts.
Alexander the Great, on his Eastern campaign, seemed as willing to marry the daughters of conquered princes of the East as to be worshipped as a god by his obedient followers. Indeed, he would frequently give respite to a strenuous life of conquest by marrying an Oriental woman. While Alexander was engaged in his Phoenician campaign, Darius wrote Alexander a letter offering him not only all lands west of the Euphrates River, but also his own daughter, Statira, as the price of peace. It was on this occasion that the famous dialogue between Alexander and his general Parmenion occurred. The latter had advised that the offer of Darius be accepted and no further risk of battle be undertaken. “Were I Alexander,” said Parmenion, “I should take these terms.” “So should I, if I were Parmenion,” said Alexander; “but as I am not Parmenion, but Alexander, I cannot.” Accordingly, he wrote to Darius in reply to his offer: “You offer me a part of your possession, when I am lord of all; and if I choose to marry your daughter, I shall do so whether you give consent or not.” Events justified Alexander’s boast, for both the territory and the daughter fell into the hands of the Macedonian victor. It was not, however, till the conqueror reached the palace city of Susa, on his return from India, that he celebrated his marriage with Statira, a daughter of Darius and Parysatis, who herself was daughter of Ochus, predecessor of Darius. Alexander wished to encourage such unions with Persian women, and went so far as to offer to his soldiers a full payment of all debts to those who would take to themselves Persian wives—an argument which appealed powerfully to the extravagant spendthrifts, but was of little force with the sober and provident of his followers. Many of the former availed themselves of their general’s offer and followed his illustrious example. Ten thousand soldiers received presents for marrying Eastern wives, and at least eighty of Alexander’s courtiers celebrated their marriage to Persian wives while at Susa.
The intermarriage of Greeks with Persian women was desired by Alexander as one means of welding together the Greeks and the Persians into one united empire. In the opinion of the Greeks, however, a union between the sons of Hellas and the daughters of the East could not be regarded as a regular marriage; and yet, Roxana, the Bactrian, was exalted to be Alexander’s queen. The spirit of the East, however, conquered the conquerors, and polygamy was introduced among the Greek invaders, Alexander himself having married three wives of the East, Roxana, Statira, and Parysatis. The most noteworthy matrimonial coup of Alexander during his Eastern conquest was, of course, that with Roxana. Her son, born after Alexander’s death, and called by the name of his father, laid claim to the title of “the great king”; but Alexander’s Eastern plans, so far as they looked toward a universal empire, melted away in the early morning of their conception.
After the decline of the Græco-Persian power and the rise of Parthian supremacy, we enter a new epoch in Persian history. The Parthians had long been a rude, nomadic people. Their women were uncultured, and played little part, except in a physical way, in the new era that dawned upon the land of proud Persia. The Parthian women were, however, sturdy, self-sacrificing, and brave, adapted well to the dashing character of the Parthian warrior, whose tactics in battle struck terror to the stoutest hearts, even among the brave Greeks and the well-nigh invincible Romans.
Following the downfall of the Parthians comes, under Ardeshir, the rise of the Sassanian dynasty, which many suppose to be a revival of the once glorious line of Achæmenian kings. It was not long before woman began to figure prominently in the new history. Sapor I., son of Ardeshir, or the Sassanian Artaxerxes, as he is called, finding difficulty in bringing the province of Hatra under his sway, receives an overture from the daughter of Manizen, the ruler of Hatra, an ambitious young woman,—without moral scruples,—with intimation that if she were made Queen of Persia she would promise to betray her father’s forces into Sapor’s hands. The compact was faithfully carried out by the damsel; but Sapor, when he came into possession of Hatra, ordered the traitress to be put to death, instead of marrying her, for Sapor not unnaturally felt that he could not be safe on his throne with such a wife. It was during the reign of Sapor that a new element was injected into Persian social and religious life which was destined somewhat later to influence almost every home in Persia. This was the rise of Manicheism, named for its founder Manes.
This was a new form of Christianity—a syncretic faith into which entered a little of Zoroastrianism, somewhat of Judaism, a modicum of Buddhism, and some Christianity. Manes’s teachings seemed so plausible that many were swept away by them; they appeared to be destined to shake the older faiths from their foundations, and they changed many of the customs as well as portions of the worship of the people. Manes was a zealous patron of the decorative arts. The art of weaving carpets of silk and of wool, which has given employment to so many female fingers from that day to this, and the fine embroideries which have made Persia famous are to be attributed in no small degree to the influence of Manes.
The lives of the women of the Sassanidæ were not always to be envied. The story, though it may have changed form and color somewhat by transmission, is not an improbable one which tells of King Varahran’s anger at his queen. One day, seated with her in an open pavilion overlooking the plain, he saw two wild asses approaching. With his bow the strong man, skilled in the chase, transfixed both of the animals with one well-aimed shot. Turning to his spouse to receive the applause he thought due him, the wife replied: “Practice makes perfect.” Angered at the lightness with which his skilful feat was received, he ordered her to be executed, but quickly repented, and simply divorced her from the palace. In quiet moments, he repented of his haste. For years, he had no trace of the former queen, but when hunting one day he beheld a scene which quickly excited his curiosity and admiration. It was a woman carrying upon her shoulders a cow, with which, indeed, she easily walked up and down the stairs of the country house. On asking her concerning the remarkable feat, she replied, as she dropped her veil: “Practice makes perfect.” The king recognized his wife, now no longer young, but still possessing physical charms, and invited her to take her place again in the palace. The woman had commenced to carry the cow when it was but a tiny calf, and had shrewdly planned the feat in the hope that some day she might win back her husband’s respect. It has been suggested that cows are small in Persia, as is indeed the case, but more probably some small animal, such as a goat or a gazelle, first figured in the story.
Persian kings of the house of Sassan intermarried frequently with Turkish women, and one of the best known of this dynasty, Hormisda, had a Turkish mother. It was he who won the mortal enmity of one of Persia’s greatest generals by sending to the veteran a distaff, together with a woman’s costume, suggesting that he give up the art of war for that of spinning. The suggestion cost the king his sceptre. The soldiery, however, raised to the throne his son, the many-sided Chosroes Parveez, whose name stands out prominently not only as a foster-father of the arts among the people, but as preëminent in a long line of Persian kings because of his unswerving love for his wife Shirin all through his long and, in some respects, most honorable reign. His harem, however, was one of the most extensive in all Persian annals.
Modern Persia has, of course, lost much of the grandeur of the days of Mandane or of the mother of Xerxes. Persia, being an inland as well as a mountainous country, with scarcely any railway facilities in the entire country, and no navigable waterways, has been very little influenced by modern ideas or customs. As there are many tribes and nationalities in the land, and many different religions as well, many differences are found in manners, customs, and even in language. Each nationality and each sect continues distinct from the other. Broad differences have engendered social distinctions and sometimes enmity and strife.
No single statement as to the relation of the sexes in Persia will apply to all the peoples of the country. The large majority of the people being Mohammedans, the customs are very similar to those of all other countries where Islam rules. Among the Nestorian Christians and the Catholic Christians women are unveiled and free to come and go. Among the so-called “Fire Worshippers” of the Monsul mountains, men and women associate in their great feasts, and the sexes dance and sing together. The laws of the people fix the number of wives at not more than six, and, of course, the girl may not choose her husband; but is sold by her parents, though she may remain single by paying through hard labor a sum to the father for the privilege of remaining under the parental roof. Among the Parsees, the modern followers of Zoroaster, who number about twenty-five thousand, woman is given a better opportunity for education than among the Mohammedans. Obedience to her husband is, of course, her first duty; and married life is looked upon as specially blessed, and rich Parsees are known to aid in a pecuniary way those who are marriageable, but lack the material means to make them happy. Polygamy is prohibited among the Parsees, except that after nine years of sterility, a wife may expect another woman to share the home of her husband. Divorces are forbidden, and wives have comparative freedom. The wealthier Persians, generally found in the towns, reside in large dwellings having several apartments. The masses of the people, however, live poorly in mud houses or huts from thirty to forty feet square, with one room and a single door.
Woman’s work in Persia, as generally in the East, is multiform as well as menial. The women, of course, do the baking. They use yeast in the making of their bread. Having kneaded the dough, they set it aside to rise, after which they divide the mass into small parts, and with a rolling-pin they roll these pieces of dough very thin, and sometimes to the size of two feet in length by a foot in width, and then stick them to the side of the oven. The latter is a cylindrical hole in the ground, lined with clay and located near the centre of the house. It is about four feet deep, and approximately two and a half feet in diameter. The women make fire in this oven but once a day. The wife bakes once or twice a week, if the family be small, but if large, every day or every other day. This oven, whose top is even with the floor, is also the place around which in cool weather the family gather upon mats to keep themselves warm. The fuel is not wood, which is very scarce, but manure. At first both the smoke and the odor are very perceptible, but when once the fire is burning freely, the impurities of the fuel are drawn up through an opening in the roof, a window, just above the oven. Out of this window, which remains open day and night, the smoke is supposed to go, as indeed it will, if ample time be given. The Persian housewife is thus enabled to keep her house ventilated, but its walls and ceilings soon become very black with soot. In rainy weather the good housewife must place a pan or other receptacle immediately under the window—for this opening in the ceiling is both the avenue for light and for ventilation, hence must not be closed. If a woman wishes to know her neighbor’s business, she will creep upon the top of her neighbor’s roof—for houses are very often close together, and eavesdrop through the open window.
Weaving is done both by women and by men. The weaving and spinning apparatus, as well as the crude cotton-gins, are in the same room where the family eats, sleeps, cooks, and converses. As a rule, the men weave the light goods, such as cotton fabrics, while the women make the carpets, rugs, and the like. The women are the spinsters, and, with untiring energy, they rise early and spin all day. It is said that a woman of ordinary skill can spin a pound of cotton a day, provided she works very hard. For this she receives, if done for another, about twenty cents.
The women do the milking. In fact, it is regarded as beneath the dignity of a man to milk, if not as a positive disgrace. The women milk cows, buffaloes, sheep, and goats. Butter is made from buffalo milk, which is given by the animals in large quantities and is exceedingly white. Since clabber is more highly prized than fresh milk, the housewife, as soon as she has finished her morning’s milking,—they milk twice a day,—heats the fresh milk almost to boiling, allows it to cool a little, and then adds a table-spoonful of sour milk. Speedily the whole begins to coagulate, and the next morning, with the addition of syrup, it forms the customary breakfast. The good housewife finds it indispensable to keep a little sour milk at hand in order to hasten the coagulation. Women residing in towns do their churning in earthen vessels or pitchers, called meta, always using sour milk. Among the nomadic people of the country sheepskins are used for this purpose. These sheepskin churns are filled, and suspended by means of cords from a wooden frame. The churn is thus shaken back and forth by the women till the butter comes. If butter in excess of the immediate need is produced,—and the poorer classes use it sparingly,—it is converted into oil, which keeps its quality for a year or two and is much used for cooking.
The women are also the millers, braying the corn in mortars in primitive fashion, or beating it to meal upon a flat stone with a stone hammer, or, in some advanced households, grinding it in hand mills. It requires two or three women to use a hand mill, which consists of two huge round stones, one revolving upon the other. Two or more women will take hold of a handle attached to the upper stone and turn, while another pours the grain, from an earthen jar, through a hole in the upper millstone. As only a little wheat can be ground at a time, it requires much patience, and the men generally give over the labor to the women.
Harvesting is also done by the women. The season between June and August of each year is therefore peculiarly severe upon them. Their domestic duties must be finished soon after sunrise; then, with their sickles, they start out from the villages to the harvest fields, a mile or two distant. One may often see the baby in its tiny cradle flung across the shoulder of the mother on her way to the day’s labor. She puts the cradle down in the shade in view of the reapers, and performs her daily task in the broiling sun. While the women reap, the men gather the bundles and bind them for the threshing floor. At the close of the day, homeward they trudge, tired and soiled by the day’s work; the mothers carrying their little ones back to their homes, where the domestic duties of evening are to be performed before comes the opportunity for rest. When grain harvest is over, the vineyards are to be gleaned, and the women are to do most of the work of picking the ripe, luscious branches of grapes, filling the huge baskets and carrying them to the place where the fruit is to be spread out to be dried. In fifteen or twenty days the grapes have become raisins, and they are again taken up and piled away, ready for the market. Wine and molasses are also made from grapes, the work being largely the task of the women.
Just as Persia has its Ruths gleaning in the fields, so also Rebekah with her water pot may be seen daily. In lieu of modern buckets, the Persians are content to have their women take large earthen jars, morning and night, to the public wells, springs, or streams outside the village. There the women fill their pots, lift them first to the hips, then to the back or shoulder, and trudge home with their burden, chatting happily as they go, and becoming straight and strong by the muscular exercise involved. Eight or ten trips may be necessary before each woman has filled all her jars, and so procured the necessary amount of water for the daily use.
There is a saying in Persia: “When cousins marry they are never happy.” And yet, as a rule, marriages are within the religious sects. If a Christian—Christians in Persia are of the ancient Nestorian faith—should marry a Mohammedan woman, he would be compelled to renounce his religion for the Mohammedan, as the ruling class would not allow it to be otherwise. Christian parents, on the other hand, would not give their consent to the union of their daughter with a worshipper of Islam. Occasionally, however, attractive Nestorian girls are captured and carried off, and compelled to accept the Mohammedan religion, and married to a Persian or a Turk. Generally, girls marry within their own villages, since each neighborhood is, as a rule, a community uninfluenced and unvisited by people from other communities. Persia is no exception to the ordinary Oriental rule, that marriage contracts are made by the parents—the children accepting with unquestioning obedience the conditions that have been prepared for them.
A young man, being where isolation of the sexes does not prevail, may, however, and often does, show unmistakably his preference for the girl of his liking; and since the communities are often small, isolated marriages of those who have known and loved one another from infancy are not infrequent. The wise parent finds out if the two young people are really in love, though both will often vehemently deny what is plainly true, and tries to arrange matters in accordance with the eternal fitness of things. The girl in question, however, is never consulted in the matter. All girls are supposed to marry, and a youth who remains long single is considered of all creatures the most miserable. As is general throughout the East, Persian girls are ready for conjugal life at twelve years of age, certainly at the age of fifteen. Betrothal often takes place as early as infancy. Parents will sometimes undertake to cement, or at least to express, their strong friendship by engaging their infants, one to another. These two, growing up with the understanding that they are finally to be husband and wife, often become ardent lovers, and the match is a happy one.
When a young man has become of age, which in many cases is very early in life, especially among the rich classes, the parents will send two or three male friends to act as mediators, who will go to the house of the girl in question and ask her parents for her hand. After some deliberation, with apparently great reluctance, the request is granted. To seal the contract, one of the mediators rises and kisses the hand of the father. The contracting parties return to their homes and report their success to the parents of the young man. In accordance with the affirmative report, his parents, within a few days, meet the parents of the girl and conclude the arrangements for the wedding.
The first in the order of preparation is the buying of the wedding clothes for the bride; for these the father of the prospective bridegroom pays. The father must make presents to the members of the girl’s family and to her friends. The chief officers of the town must also be remembered. After this the parties make ready for the marriage. While the bride is engaged in preparing for the wedding, there are feasts and revels at the houses of both the bride and the groom. Provision for these sumptuous feasts is made by the groom’s father. This feasting lasts from three to six days. The predominating features in it are music and dancing, in a style peculiar to Persian life and custom. Mirthful song is provided by professional singers, to the great delight of those present. After two or three days of incessant preparation on the part of the girl, and of festivity on the part of the ever mirthful guests, the men and the boys, following a leader, go to bring the bride home. As soon as the gay company has arrived, a feast is in readiness for them. A dance in the house or in the yard follows. Meantime, the bride is being prepared to take her journey to her future home. At last it is announced that she is ready, and the musicians play a doleful tune, while the girl kisses her parents good-bye; and bidding adieu to all the friends of her childhood, she is soon mounted on the horse which is to carry her. At that moment the musicians change their mournful tune to one more lively, and off the whole company marches with the bride to her destination. At the arrival of the bride, which is reported by a young man, all the people of the community emerge from their huts and come out to witness the festive scene. After some ceremony, the bride dismounts before the house of the most prominent man in the town, into which she is escorted, and there she is received and entertained with honor.
That night again the town in general enjoys hilarious feasting and mirth, especially in the house of the groom. The next day the musicians go to the different parts of the town where the guests are being entertained, and summon them to the enjoyment of another feast. As soon as this is over, they accompany the groom, led by the music and dancers, to the place where the bride is being entertained; and thence, if they be Catholic Christians, they at once proceed to the church, where the priest performs the marriage rite. The husband and wife are now ready to be escorted to their future home, which is the birthplace of the groom. The rest of that day is spent in conversation and feasting. The female friends of the groom look, for the first time, upon the unveiled bride; and they examine the embroidered work, which the girl has made with her own hands, and which constitutes a part of the bridal equipment. The day being over, the friends depart and the bride and groom are launched on their new life.
The women of the Persian seraglio are more closely confined, if possible, than the women of the Hindoo or of the Turkish harems. In ancient days it was customary to put the women who entered the royal harem under a strict regimen or course of preparation. A glimpse of this purifying process is given in the Hebrew Book of Esther, the author of which shows minute acquaintance with Persian life and customs. “Now when every maid’s turn was come,... after that she had been twelve months, according to the manner of the women (for so were the days of their purification accomplished, to wit: six months with oil of myrrh, and six months with sweet odors, and with other things for the purifying of the women), then thus came every maiden unto the king; whatsoever she desired was given her to go with her out of the house of the women unto the king’s house.”
The custom of strict seclusion and oversight of the women, introduced by the ancient kings to guard better a pure lineage and to exhibit greater state, has had large influence in Persia, except among the nomadic peoples. The arrangements of the house for obtaining privacy for women are usually the same throughout the land. The first apartment of the house is for the use of men; the second or interior apartment, called the “anteroom,” is for the women, and no men are allowed to intrude into the “harem” or “forbidden place”; else the voice of the eunuchs, or guardians, will be quickly heard crying out: “Women—away,” and every face in the harem will be at once veiled from the sight of the intruder.
“I am a woman” is frequently given and regarded as an ample reason why a modern Persian girl need not learn to read. Every city or town has its school for boys, but there are no schools for girls (unless they be mission schools), since it is commonly believed that it is a prudent policy to keep the female sex satisfied with their present position in the economy of life. The wealthier parents may, however, sometimes employ private tutors for their girls. The deep-seated line that marks a woman as different from a man appears even in the method of capital punishment meted out to women. While a man who is to be executed will have his jugular vein cut, be nailed to a wall, or be blown from a cannon’s mouth, a woman will be sentenced to have her head shaved, her face blackened, to take a bareback ride upon a donkey along the public highway, and finally to be beaten to death in a bag. Or she may be stripped of all clothing and placed in a bag full of cats, which will soon scratch or bite the unfortunate victim to death.
Domestic peace does not always hover like a white dove over Persian homes. Even among the Nestorians, the ancient Christian sect, it is very common for the husband to assert his lordship over his spouse by giving her an occasional flogging. The women expect this as one of the conditions of their position. The failure of this method of emphasizing the husband’s authority, however, would appear from the testimony that “the number of women who revere their husbands is as small as the list of husbands who do not beat their wives.”
In this land of the ancient Magi it is not strange that there should be many superstitions connected with marriages and engagements. Sometimes it is manifest that the husband does not love his wife. If this be the case, the wife or her mother may consult a magician. He will write for her a charm. This is to be sewed into some designated part of her daily apparel; a like charm is prepared for direct effect upon the husband, and this must be secretly sewed into his clothing. The hoped-for result of these charms is the renewal of conjugal affection. Another charm, which is highly regarded, directs the wife to cut off a few hairs from both her own and her husband’s head, to burn them together and from their ashes make a potion which the husband is to be caused, clandestinely, to drink. Some magicians will direct that the love prescription be placed under the hinge of the door of the house, so that as the door is constantly opened and shut, the husband’s love will as constantly grow toward his spouse. Sterility is uniformly regarded as a misfortune, if not a curse. Incantations and charms are frequently employed to induce fecundity. The Persian women and Orientals generally have innumerable superstitions. For example, when a hen is heard to crow, it is regarded either as a good or a bad omen. To ascertain exactly which it may be, the crowing hen is blindfolded and carried to the top of the flat roof. She is then dropped through the open window into the centre of the room below. If the hen turns toward the corner of the house, it is considered a good omen, and all is well. If on the other hand, she starts toward the door, it is regarded as portending evil, and the hen is killed at once. This odd custom suggests another, somewhat similar, once in vogue in Persia. Suppose a woman has lost a piece of money, and she suspects that some disloyal neighbor, she does not know whom, has taken it. To prevent a public trial and to spare the innocent the disgrace that may come upon those wrongly suspected, all the neighbors agree that at a certain time every man and woman of the vicinage shall go, one after the other, to the dwelling from which the money was stolen, and in passing, each person shall throw a handful of dirt into the window of the person whose money has been lost. One goes and returns to his own house, and then another, till all have thrown in a handful. When the last one has deposited the dirt he has brought, the owner goes in and finds in the midst of the total deposit the lost treasure; for the guilty party, fearing that he will at length be detected and suffer punishment, and knowing that he cannot be detected if he throws the money down into the house along with his handful of dirt, avails himself of this means of escape from the charge which he fears.
There are no women who have a harder, and apparently a happier, life than do the women of the Kurds. The men of the tribe deny that women are possessed of souls. A woman must not, therefore, be present where a man is at prayer. If she should touch him while performing this hallowed duty, it is thought that she might get the benefit of the prayer. Indeed, it is believed that if she touch him, she obtains his soul. Should a woman be seen approaching, the man at prayer may rise, go out from the prayer circle, take his gun and shoot the woman, and then piously return to his devotions.
The Kurdish women are very dark in complexion and picturesque in their apparel. They use paints and other cosmetics in abundance, to please the eye of their husbands. Their day of toil is a long one, for, after finishing their household duties, they are expected to hasten to the fields to tend the flocks, or to gather fuel for the winter. At night they return with large packs upon their shoulders, enough for two donkeys to carry. They may be seen spinning and singing on their way to and fro, as though their lot were the happiest in the world. Little thinking of the ordinary ailments of women, they trudge along over the fields or the mountain heights; and frequently a Kurdish woman may be seen returning home in the evening, happy, with her huge bundle of sticks for the fire, and with the infant to which she has given birth during the day! A Kurd usually thinks more of his steed than of his wife, who may sometimes be compelled to vacate her place in the dwelling to make room for the horse.
Any account of Persian women is incomplete without some reference to woman in the native poetry of the Persians. No poetry of the East has been so generally admired, translated, and read as the Persian. In it woman finds a large place. And yet, it cannot be said that she is presented always in the light of the brightest ideals of virtuous womanhood.
The Persian poet Hafiz is said once to have been asked by the philosopher Zenda what he was good for, and he replied: “Of what use is a flower?” “A flower is good to smell,” said the philosopher. “And I am good to smell it,” said the poet. Too often woman is shown as the plaything of man’s passion and fancy. Yet the virtue of heroic womanhood in the early days is presented with great force and beauty.
The Persian poets, in the treatment of love, leave little place for reflection, still less for practical considerations. It is spontaneous love, “love at first sight,” which they deem alone worthy of their song. “Love at first sight and of the most enthusiastic kind is the passion described in all Persian poems, as if a whole life of love were condensed into one moment. It is all wild and rapturous; it has nothing of the rational cast. A casual glance from an unknown beauty often affords the subject of a poem.” These words well sum up the Persian poets’ most common attitude toward love and the female graces. The following lines written concerning the beauty of the daughter of Gureng King of Zabulistan, are typical:
“So graceful in her movements and so sweet,
Her very look plucked from the breast of age
The root of sorrow;—her wine-sipping lips
And mouth like sugar, cheeks all dimpled over
With smiles and glowing as the summer rose—
Won every heart.”
These words, too, were said of a damsel who had won fame as a warrior in her father’s army, and her skill, valor, and judgment had made enemies fall at her feet. Indeed, one of the most romantic portions of the Shahnamah of Firdausi are the passages describing the meeting of the gallant King Jamshid with the beautiful daughter of Gureng, whose father had given her permission to marry, provided only it should be spontaneous love which should guide her in the choice:
“It must be love and love alone
That binds thee to another’s throne,
In this thy father has no voice—
Thine the election, thine the choice.”
One day, as by chance, the handsome young King Jamshid arrived at the city, a fatigued stranger, and was not permitted by the keepers to pass through King Gureng’s rose garden. Weary, Jamshid sat down at the gate, under a shade tree. The damsel sees him, and at once falls in love with his manly form and demeanor. She brings him wine, by which he may be refreshed, and pours out her tender soul to him. Presently a dove and his cooing mate alight upon a bough above their heads. The damsel asks which of the birds her bow and arrow must bring to the ground. Jamshid replies: “Where a man is, a woman’s aid is not required; give me the bow.”
“However brave a woman may appear,
Whatever strength of arms she may possess,
She is but half a man.”
Blushing, the girl gives over the weapon, and Jamshid says: “Now for the wager. If I hit the female, shall the lady whom I most admire in this company be mine?” The damsel, her heart bounding with throbs of love, assents. Jamshid drew the string and struck the female bird so skilfully that both wings were transfixed with the body. The male bird flew away, but presently returned and perched itself again upon the bough as if unwilling to leave its stricken mate. The damsel grasped the bow and arrow, and said: “The male bird has returned to his former place; if my aim be successful shall the man whom I choose in this company be my husband?”
Just then the aged nurse of the princess appears, and recognizes in King Jamshid him whom the oracles had predicted would be the young girl’s spouse.
“... happy tidings, blissful to her heart,
Increased the ardor of her love for him.”
They are married. And the story of her father’s displeasure and of his treachery toward Jamshid, the latter’s betrayal and death, the young wife’s inconsolable grief and sad self-slaughter move before the reader in a most thrilling fashion. This Persian poem, setting forth the romantic side of female character, is one of the greatest pieces of literature ever written.
The Persian romances delight in making the women do most of the loving and the courting. The heroines are the first to feel passion and the most rapturous in expressing it. They, however, like Saiawush in the Shahnamah, are fond of coyness until they have determined to yield to the force of love. But when the love of a Persian woman has once gone out, the Persian poets usually depict it as strong and steadfast to the end. It speaks like that of Manijeh, the unfortunate Byzun:
“Can I be faithless then to thee,
The choice of this fond heart of mine,
Why sought I bonds when I was free,
But to be thine, forever thine?”
Even the best poets, such as Firdausi, who was called the “poet of Paradise,” Persia’s great national poet, often present woman’s charms in lines highly overdrawn. Such these are concerning the Princess Rudabah:
“Screened from public view
Her countenance is brilliant as the sun;
From head to foot her lovely form is fair
As polished ivory. Like the spring, her cheek
Presents a radiant bloom—in stature tall,
And o’er her silvery brightness, richly flow
Dark musky ringlets clustering to her feet.”
Khakani, considered the most learned of Persia’s lyric poets, wrote some beautiful verses in which womanly charms find place. Such is his poem The Unknown Beauty, in which occur the lines:
“I saw thy form of waving grace!
I heard thy soft and gentle sighs;
I gazed on that enchanting face,
And looked in thy narcissus eyes;
Oh! by the hopes thy smiles allowed,
Bright soul-inspirer, who art thou?”
The great price placed upon womanly beauty is clearly discerned in such writers as Sadi, who died about A. D. 1292. In his Gulistan, or “Rose Garden,” he tells the story of a doctor of laws who had a daughter. She was so extremely ugly that she reached the age of womanhood long before anyone wished her in marriage, although her fortune and dowry were large—for “Damask or brocade but add to deformity, when put upon a bride void of symmetry,” says Sadi. Finally, to avoid perpetual maidenhood, the girl was given in wedlock to a blind man. Very soon a physician who could restore sight to the blind happened to come that way. “Why do you not get him to prescribe for your son-in-law?” the father was asked. “Because,” said he, “I am afraid he may recover his sight and repudiate my daughter—for the husband of an ugly woman ought to be blind.”
Few poets have written more of love and womanly grace than did Hafiz, who died in A. D. 1388. In the Diwan, which has been compared to a story of pearls, Hafiz says:
“To me love’s echo is the sweetest sound
Of all that ’neath the circling round
Hath staved.”
A story is told of Hafiz and Tamerlane, which is doubtless apocryphal. Coming upon the poet one day, Tamerlane said: “Art thou not the insolent versemonger who didst offer my two great cities Samarkand and Bokhara for the black mole upon thy lady’s cheek?” “It is true,” replied Hafiz, with much calmness; “and indeed, my munificence has been so great throughout my life that it has left me destitute; so, hereafter I shall be dependent on thy generosity for a livelihood.” This apt reply of Hafiz is said to have so pleased the conqueror that he sent the poet away with a present.
It may be said, as a rule, that the Persian poets emphasize almost exclusively woman’s physical charms. “Women, wine, and song” are, in truth, the chief burden of the poems. The sensuous side of love is most frequently disclosed. There are, however, some exceptions to this general rule, as may be discovered in passages from the writings of Jami. While it is the beauty of the unmarried woman which most frequently and most naturally holds place in Persian song, yet the married life is not forgotten. Firdausi, in his account of the beautiful Rudabah, says of wedlock:
“For marriage is a contract sealed by Heaven—
How happy is the warrior’s lot amidst
His smiling children.”
And Firdausi makes Kitabun say:
“A mother’s counsel is a golden treasure.”
Examples of the recognition of love that is deep and full of meaning are not wanting among the Persian poets.
Nizami, Persia’s first great romantic poet, who lived in the twelfth century of our era, wrote nothing better than his romance of Bedouin love, the story of Laili and Majnun, which has been happily termed the Romeo and Juliet of the East. “France,” says a recent writer, “has its Abelard and Eloise, Italy its Petrarch and Laura, Persia and Arabia have their pure pathetic romance.” Many see in the story of Laili and Majnun an allegorical or spiritual interpretation. At least, it illustrates the stress which the Persian poets put upon a true, undying devotion, and the Orientals consider it the very personification of faithful love.
The higher ideals are often found in the dramatic literature. Many consider Jami’s celebrated Yusuf and Zulaikha, a dramatic poem modelled after Firdausi, to be the finest poem in the Persian language. Sir William Jones pronounces it “the finest poem he ever read.” It gives account of Yusuf—the Israelite Joseph—and Zulaikha, Potiphar’s wife. In this is disclosed how the human soul attains the love for the highest beauty and goodness only when it has suffered and has been thoroughly regenerated, purified, as was the life of Zulaikha. The poet, seeing the emptiness of mere beauty, reaches the inevitable conclusion that
“He who gives his heart to a lovely form
May look for no rest—but a life of storm
If the gold of union be still his quest,
With fond vain dream, love deludes his breast.”
The Dabistan was first brought to public notice by that enthusiastic Orientalist of more than a century ago—Sir William Jones. In it there is a dissertation on the “Hundred Gates of Paradise,” in which occur directions for entering the place of blessedness. Sons and daughters are to be given in early marriage. Milk must be given to a child as soon as the mother gives it birth. Directions are given to women in sickness and in childbearing. Implicit obedience to husbands is strictly enjoined, and warning is carefully given against the woman of unchaste life.
The Zend-Avesta, as well as the great body of Persian poetry, has preserved much of the ancient life and flavor of Iran. There is scarcely any feature in the literature of the religion of Zoroaster, which holds a more emphatic place than that which enjoins purity of life. Domestic virtues are accorded high place in these teachings. Says the Zend-Avesta: “Purity is the best of all things; purity is the fairest of all things, even as thou hast said, O righteous Zarathushtra,—Purity is, next to life, the greatest good.” Zoroaster inquires of Ormuzd which is the second best place, when earth feels most happy? To which Ormuzd makes reply: “It is the place whereon one of the faithful erects a house with a priest within, with cattle, with a wife and with children and good herds within, and wherein afterward the cattle continue to thrive, virtue to thrive, fodder to thrive, the dog to thrive, the wife to thrive, the child to thrive, the fire to thrive, and every blessing of life to thrive.”