--The military tribes and the royal guard
--Men of the people as great monarchs
--Persian sense of humour
--Nightingales and poetry
--Legendary origin of the royal emblem
--Lion and Sun
--Ancient Golden Eagle emblem
--The Blacksmith's Apron the royal standard.
The warlike nomads form a most important part of the military strength
of Persia, and it has always been the policy of the Sovereign to secure
their personal attachment to him as the direct paramount chief of each
martial clan. In pursuance of this policy, the royal guard, known as
Gholam-i-Shah, or Slaves of the King, which protects and escorts the
Shah in camp and quarters, is mainly composed of bodies of horse
furnished from the best and most powerful of the military tribes. These
come from all quarters of the empire, and are headed and officered by
members of the most influential families, so that they may be regarded
as hostages for the loyalty and fidelity of the chiefs. All are changed
from time to time, and thus a system of short service prevails, to give
as many as possible a term of duty with the royal guard.
The term _gholam_, or slave, has always been given as a title to the
personal guards, and everyone who is admitted to the corps claims the
envied distinction of Gholam-i-Shah. This guard has a very ancient
origin, and service in it is highly prized as giving opportunities of
attracting the attention and gaining the favour of the King. The great
Sovereign Sabuktagin, who reigned in the tenth century, was said to have
risen from the ranks of the royal guard. All the couriers of the foreign
legations at Tehran are styled Gholam, and the title is accepted as an
honourable one, meaning a mounted servant of courage and trust, who is
ready to defend to the death all interests committed to his charge.
The total strength of 'the guard' is twelve hundred and fifty, of whom
two hundred are the élite, called _gholam peshkhidmet_ (personal
attendants) and mostly belong to the Kajar, the Shah's own tribe, with
which his Majesty always identified himself in the most public manner,
and thus made every man proud of his clanship with the King. I here
allude to the royal signature, 'Nasr-ed-Din, Shah, Kajar.' These
superior guardsmen have all the rank of gentleman, and may be called the
mounted 'gentlemen at arms' of the guard. They have the customary right
of appointment to Court and palace posts, such as door-keeper, usher,
messenger, etc. Their service is for life, and is hereditary, a son
succeeding his father, and taking his place in the guard when promotion,
age, illness, or death creates a vacancy. They have distinctive
horse-trappings with silver neck-straps, breastplates, and headstalls,
which pass from father to son, and have become highly prized heirlooms.
The Shah was most partial to the representative tribesmen of his guard,
and his happy characteristics as a King of nomadic taste and camp-like
ways, in familiar acquaintance with all about him, were well shown at a
military review which I witnessed at Tehran some years ago. The review
was a special one, held in honour of the Swedish officers deputed by
King Oscar II. of Norway and Sweden to convey the high order of the
Seraphin to his Majesty the Shah, and as many troops as possible were
called in from the surrounding districts to take part in it. The royal
guard mustered strong, and when they marched past, the Shah stepped
forward to the saluting line, so as to be closer to them, and called out
to each troop, and named each commander in terms of praise and pleasure.
This display of personal knowledge of the men, and acquaintance with
their leaders, drew from them a perfect buzz of delight.
On this occasion the smart appearance of the Bakhtiari horse attracted
particular attention. The Persian bystanders showed their pride in these
popular mounted mountaineers by the admiring exclamation, 'Here come the
Bakhtiaris!' They were very noticeable by their white felt, round,
brimless hats, and the good line they preserved when passing. The
Bakhtiaris (Lurs) are the most numerous and powerful of all the military
tribes, and are noted for their superior martial qualities both as horse
and foot. They are of the most ancient Persian descent, and have held
the hills and valleys of Luristan from time immemorial; while all the
other military tribes may be said to be of much later date, and of
foreign origin--Arab, Syrian, Turk, and Tartar. Competent authorities,
who have had full opportunity of judging, agree in saying that they are
as good material for soldiers as can be found anywhere. I was greatly
interested in hearing the Shah's Prime Minister speak in glowing terms
of the gallantry of the Bakhtiari infantry at the capture of Kandahar
under Nadir Shah, who, after subduing them in their own mountains, won
them over to serve him loyally and well in his conquering campaigns
against Afghanistan and India. The Grand Vizier mentioned the
circumstance of the Bakhtiari contingent, after one of the many repulses
met in the repeated attempts to carry Kandahar by storm, having in the
evening, when all was quiet on both sides, assaulted without orders and
captured a commanding, position in the defences, which they had failed
to take during the day. The shouts of the victors roused the resting
besiegers, and Nadir at once took advantage of the success to carry the
citadel and gain possession of the town. As a closing remark concerning
these nomad tribes, I may mention that they regard themselves as in
every way superior to the settled inhabitants, and express this conceit
in their saying, 'One man of the tents is equal to two of the town.'
I have mentioned the prerogative of the Shah to raise whomsoever he
chooses from the lowest to the highest position, except under
restrictions in the military tribes. This quite falls in with the
democratic spirit which lies dormant among the people, ready to be
displayed in willingness to accept a Sovereign of signal power who
springs from the lower ranks of life. The social equality which Islam
grants to all men was nothing new to Persia in forming ideas regarding a
popular leader and elected King. The descent of such a man is deemed of
little consequence in the minds of a people who look to personification
of power as the right to rule. In fact, with them it is said that the
fame of such a man is in proportion to the lowness of his origin. They
know of notable instances of the nation being delivered from terrible
tyranny and degrading foreign subjection, and being made gloriously
great, by men of the people. They point to Kawâh, the blacksmith, who
headed a revolt against the monstrously cruel usurper King Zohâk, using
his apron as a banner, and finally overthrew and slew him, and placed
Faridûn, a Prince of the Peshdâdian dynasty, on the throne which he
might have occupied himself. This blacksmith's apron continued for ages
to be the royal standard of Persia. In the ninth century,
Yacub-bin-Leis, called the Pewterer, as he had worked when young at that
(his father's) trade, made his way to the throne by sheer force of
strong character and stout courage. He remained the people's hero to the
last, was noted for his simple habits, for keeping with his name his
trade appellation (Suffâri, the Pewterer), and for never having been
wantonly cruel or oppressive. In the tenth century, when the great
Sabuktagin rose from soldier to Sovereign, we see the principle of
selection in preference to hereditary succession practised and accepted
by the nation. And the choice was justified by the glory he gave to the
Persian arms in extending the empire to India, and in the further
conquests of his soldier-son, Mahmud, who succeeded to his father's
throne, and added still more to the greatness of the kingdom, till it
reached from Baghdad to Kashgar, from Georgia to Bengal, from the Oxus
to the Ganges.
When the country was groaning under the Afghan yoke, it was the daring
spirit of one from the ranks of the people, Nadir Kuli (Shah), who
conceived the overthrow of the oppressor and the recovery of Persian
independence. Originally a simple trooper of the Afshar tribe, he
advanced himself by valour, boldness, and enterprise, and crowned his
successes by winning the admiration of the royal leaders and adherents,
who on the death of the infant King, Abbas III., son of Shah Tamasp,
elected him to be their King. As such he carried the war into the
country of the evicted oppressors, and established the power of the
empire from the Oxus to Delhi, whence he returned with the splendid
spoil which yet enriches and adorns the Crown of Persia. It speaks much
for Nadir Shah's strong character that, having gained such distinction,
he did not allow flatterers to find amid the obscurity of his birth the
lost traces of great ancestors. He never boasted a proud genealogy; on
the contrary, he often spoke of his low birth, and we are told that even
his flattering historian had to content himself with saying that the
diamond has its value from its own lustre, and not from the rock in
which it grows. A characteristic story of this remarkable man is that
on demanding a daughter of his vanquished enemy, Mahmud Shah, the
Emperor of Delhi, in marriage for his son, Nasr-ullah, he was met with
the answer that for alliance with a Princess of the Imperial house of
Timor a genealogy of seven generations was required. 'Tell him,' said
Nadir, 'that Nasr-ullah is the son of Nadir Shah, the son of the sword,
the grandson of the sword, and so on till they have a descent of
seventy, instead of seven generations.' Nadir, the man of action and
blood and iron, had the greatest contempt for the weak, dissolute Mahmud
Shah, who, according to the native historian of the time, was 'never
without a mistress in his arms and a glass in his hand,' a debauchee of
the lowest type, as well as a mere puppet King. In the end the demon of
suspicion poisoned the mind of Nadir to such an extent that he became
madly murderous, and assassination ended his life. The Persians say that
he began as a deliverer and ended as a destroyer.
As a people, the Persians are of a happy disposition and bright
imagination, doubtless produced by the dry, clear air of their high
tableland, which relieves from dullness and depression. They enjoy a
joke and laugh heartily, and they are able to see that most things have
their comic side. The late Shah was quick to show the merry look of
appreciation when something amusing was said. At the Nauroz Court
reception of the Corps Diplomatique all the Legations, headed by the
Turkish Embassy, were ranged in a semicircle in front of the Shah, and
after the congratulatory address was delivered by the Sultan's
Ambassador, his Majesty advanced and walked round slowly, pausing to say
a few words to each Minister. His face lit up with animation when he
spoke to one whom he knew to be able to reply in the Persian tongue. On
one occasion, after speaking with the Ottoman Ambassador, who is always
a Persian linguist (Persian being an obligatory subject of qualification
for the Tehran post), he passed on to a Minister who was a good Persian
scholar. Further on he found an equally well--qualified colloquial
proficient in another; and on finding himself before a well-known very
clever diplomatist for whom he had a great personal liking, he smiled
and said pleasantly, 'Have you learnt any Persian yet?' The Minister
bowed, and, looking duly serious, said in Persian, 'I know something.'
The Minister meant to say that he knew a little, but the word
'something,' as used, could be taken, as in English, to signify 'a thing
or two.' Such a meaning from the diplomatist who spoke was quite
appropriate, and the Shah laughed softly and looked much amused.
As another instance (but in this case of grim humour) of seeing the
comic side, a Prince Governor of a province, sitting in judgment,
ordered a merchant to pay a fine of fifty tomans, but, though well known
to be rich, he protested his utter inability to pay, saying he had never
seen such a sum of money, and begged for some other punishment which the
Prince in his wisdom and mercy would command. His Highness then
suggested a choice of eating fifty raw onions, or eating fifty sticks
(the Oriental mode of expression when speaking of bastinado strokes), or
paying the fifty tomans. Persians are fond of raw onions, those they eat
being small, and the merchant enjoyed the prospect of thus saving his
money. He thought that the punishment had been ordered in ignorance, so,
concealing his feeling of happy surprise, and affecting fear, he
elected for onions. He struggled hard with them, but could not swallow
more than half the number. He was then asked to pay the fine, but he
claimed his further choice of the fifty sticks. Triced up, he underwent
the pain of twenty-five well laid on to the soles of his feet, and then
called out that he would willingly pay the fifty tomans to have no more.
On this he was cast loose, and the Prince said, 'You fool! you had a
choice of one of three punishments, and you took all three.'
Persian servants regard their fixed pay as but a retaining fee, and look
for their real wages in perquisites. They show considerable ingenuity
and brightness of idea in reasons for purchasing this, that, and the
other thing, not really required, but affording opportunities for
'pickings.' A new head-servant, on looking round his master's premises,
and seeing no opening for a fresh purchase, at last cast his eye on the
fowls, kept to secure a supply of fresh eggs, instead of the doubtful
ones bought in the bazaar. He introduced stale eggs into the fowl-house,
and on their condition being remarked at breakfast, he gravely explained
that he had noticed the hens were old, and it sometimes happened that
old hens laid stale eggs, whereas young hens always laid fresh eggs; so
he suggested clearing out the fowl-house and restocking it with young
poultry.
The leisure time the servants have is not always well spent, it is true,
but they have ideas of imagination and sentiment, which in some degree
is suggestive of refinement. I have seen this shown in their love of
singing birds, and their dandy ways of dress; for some of them are very
particular as to the cut of a coat and the fit of a hat. I have
sometimes been interested in seeing them carefully tending their pet
nightingales, cleaning the cages, and decking them out with bits of
coloured cloth and any flowers in season. In November I saw quite a
dozen cages thus brightened, each with its brisk-looking nightingale
occupant, put out in the sunshine in the courtyard; and on asking about
such a collection of cages, was told rather shyly, as if fearing a smile
at their sentimental ways, that there was an afternoon tea that day in
the neighbourhood, to which the nightingales and their owners were
going. These singing-bird-parties are held in the underground rooms of
houses, which are cool in summer and warm in winter, and I imagine the
company and rivalry of a number of birds in the semi-darkness, with
glimmering light from the 'kalian' pipes, and the bubbling of water in
the pipe-bowls, and the boiling samovar tea-urns, all combine to cheat
the birds pleasantly into believing that it is night-time in the spring
song-season.
The Persian poets brought the nightingale much into their songs of
praise of earthly joys. The bulbul, of which they wrote and sang, was
the European nightingale, which visits Persia in spring to sing and love
and nest. They pass as far South as Shiraz, where they meet the plump
little Indian bulbul, which is often mistaken for the Shiraz poets'
singing-bird. The word is applied to both species in India and Persia,
but the birds are quite different in shape, plumage, and voice. They
meet at Shiraz, a place which possesses a climate so temperate and
equable as to bring together the birds and fruits of the East and West,
North and South; for there I saw and heard the Indian bulbul and the
hoopoe, the European nightingale, the cuckoo, and the magpie, and I know
that the fruits range from apples to dates.
The nightingale is the favourite pet singing-bird of the Persians. I had
good information regarding the manner of obtaining them for cage
purposes from some small boys who were engaged picking roses in a
rose-garden at Ujjatabod, near Yezd. There are two large rose-gardens in
that oasis in the Yezd Desert, where the manufacture of rose-water and
the attar essence is carried on. The gardens are appropriately favourite
haunts of the nightingales on their return with the season of gladness
from their winter resorts in the woods of the Caspian coast. The Persian
poets tell of the passionate love of the nightingale for the scented
rose, and in fanciful figure of speech make the full-blossomed flower
complain of too much kissing from its bird-lover, so that its sweetness
goes, and its beauty fades far too sadly soon. The boys told me of the
number of family pairs, their nests and eggs, and said that they took
the young male birds when fully fledged and about to leave the nest, and
brought them up by hand at first, till able to feed themselves. There is
a great demand in the towns for the young nightingales, which in Persia
sing well in captivity, so rarely the case with the bird in Europe. The
shopkeepers like to have their pet birds by them, and in the nesting
season they may be heard all over the bazaars, singing sweetly and
longingly for the partners they know of by instinct, but never meet.
There is much pleasing romance and sentiment in the popular idea
regarding the origin of the national emblem, Sher o Khurshed (the Lion
and the Sun). The following legend concerning it was told to me by the
Malik-ut-Tujjar, or Master of the Merchants of Tehran, a gentleman well
versed in Persian history, literature, and lore, and who spoke with all
the enthusiasm of national pride. When the first monarchy of Ajam
(Persia) was founded by Kai Uramâs, some five thousand years ago, the
sun was in the sign of Asad (Leo), the highest tower in the heavens, and
the lion was therefore taken as the Persian emblem, and it so remained
without the sun over it, as now shown, till about six hundred years ago.
Ghazan Khan, who then reigned as King, was so attached to his wife, the
Queen Khurshed (the Sun), that he desired to perpetuate her name by
putting it on the coins he struck; but the Ulema objected to a woman's
name on the King's coin, whereupon he decided to put her face on a
rising sun above the national emblem of the lion, as now seen in the
well-known royal arms of Persia. The story is that King Ghazan's
affection for his Queen, Khurshed, was such that he styled her Sham'bu
Ghazan (the Light of Ghazan).
This may have been the origin of the expression Khurshed Kullah, or
Sun-crowned, which I have seen stated is a term that was used to denote
the Sovereign of an empire, but from the fact of the features and style
of dressing the hair shown in the sun-picture being those of a woman, I
think the title may be regarded as applied only to queens. Catherine II.
of Russia, from the magnificence of her Court, her beauty and ambition,
and her fame in love and war, was known in Persia during her lifetime as
Khurshed Kullah, and she is still designated by that title.
I would here mention another instance of a Mohammedan monarch desiring
to publish to his people in the most sovereign manner his high regard
for a wife by putting her name on the current coin. The reign of the
Emperor Jehangir, son of Akbar the Great, the founder of the Moghul
Empire in India and the builder of Agra, was chiefly remarkable for the
influence exercised over him by his favourite wife, Nur Mahal, the Light
of the Harem, immortalized by Moore in 'Lalla Rookh.' The currency was
struck in her name, and we are also told that in her hands centred all
the intrigues that make up the work of Oriental administration. She lies
buried by the side of her husband at Lahore, the capital of the Punjab.
The subject of Ghazan Khan's succession to the throne of Persia is an
unusually interesting one. He was a Moghul chief of the line of Chengiz
Khan, and, holding Persia in tributary dependence for his sovereign
master the Khakan, was at the head of one hundred thousand tried Tartar
warriors. Persia was then Mohammedan, and the proposal was made to him
to join the new faith, and become the King-elect of an independent Iran.
He consulted his commanders, and then decided to enter Islam and become
King. His apostasy was followed by the instant conversion of his hundred
thousand men, who, with the true spirit of Tartar soldiers, followed
their leader into the pale of Islam, and soon became the active
supporters of the faith which they had so suddenly embraced. We can
imagine the triumphant joy of the proselytizing priests as they passed
down the crowded ranks of the time-hardened, weather-proof warrior sons
of the bow and spear, who on June 17, 1265, paraded at Firozkoh, where
the Tartar host was then encamped, to repeat the Mohammedan confession
of faith. To them the learning of the Arabic words must have been the
severest exercise they had ever been called upon to practise, and it is
easy to think of the muttered swearing among the puzzled veterans that
what was good enough for their leader was good enough for them, and that
they were ready to do as he had done, without further talk or ceremony.
Islam was then most actively aggressive, extending by the argument of
smooth speech or sharp sword, as occasion demanded, and the Moullas must
have regarded with enthusiastic pride the glorious reinforcement they
had brought to its armies by the consecration of such a splendid warrior
host to the service of their Church.
Ghazan Khan was the first of this race of kings from the line of Chengiz
who threw off all allegiance to Tartary by directing that the name of
the monarch of that empire should not in future be put on the Persian
coins. On the coins which he struck, the Mohammedan creed, 'There is no
God but God, and Mohammed is His Prophet,' was inscribed instead of the
name and titles of the Khakan. He had not the courage of his heart's
desire to strike his wife's name on the coins, as Jehangir did, but he
was differently placed, in that, as a fresh convert and a new King by
the favour of Islam, he felt himself unable to put aside the priests who
had bribed him with a crown. Malcolm, in remarking on Ghazan Khan's
accession to the throne of Persia, says that Henry IV. of France
similarly changed his creed to secure the crown.
Ghazan Khan reigned about the middle of the thirteenth century, and was
known in Europe for his supposed readiness to assist in re-establishing
the Christians in the Holy Land. He was deemed a wise and just Prince,
and it is believed that his policy led him to seek the aid of the States
of Europe in order to improve the position and condition of himself and
his kingdom. It is said that Pope Boniface VIII endeavoured by a display
of his connection with Ghazan Khan to excite the Christian princes to
another Crusade, and it was probably this connection with the head of
the Christian Church which led to a general impression among Western
writers that Ghazan Khan was not sincere in his conversion to
Mohammedanism, and was at heart a Christian. There is reason to think
that the secret spring of his action was to weaken the Egyptian Empire,
which he regarded as hostile and dangerous to himself and Persia. It is
not clear whether Ghazan Khan apostatized from the religion of his
ancestors or that of the Christians, but he is believed to have been
attached all his life to the latter faith, though he does not appear to
have made a public declaration of his belief in its doctrines. He
professed Mohammedanism in order to obtain the crown, but his life had
been passed in friendship with Christians, and in wars with the
followers of the faith he adopted.
Xenophon mentions that the royal emblem of Persia from early times was a
golden eagle with outstretched wings, resting on a spearhead like the
Roman eagle, but he makes no allusion to a standard. Persian historians
tell of a famous standard carried from the mythical time of Zohâk to
that of the last of the Pehlevi kings. Their story is that Kawâh, a
blacksmith, raised a successful revolt against the implacably cruel King
Zohâk in the earliest time of Persian sovereignty, and relieved the
country from his terrible tyranny by putting him to death. The
victorious blacksmith then placed on the throne Faridûn, a Prince of the
Peshdâdian dynasty, who adopted his apron, which had been the standard
of revolt, as the royal banner of Persia. As such it was said to be
richly ornamented with jewels, to which every king, from Faridûn
to the last of the Pehlevi monarchs, added. It was called the
Durafsh-i-Kawâh[1] (the Standard of Kawâh), and continued to be the
royal standard of Persia till the Mohammedan conquest, when it was taken
in battle by Saad-e-Wakass, and sent to the Khalif Omar. Malcolm said
that the causes which led to the sign of Sol in Leo becoming the arms of
Persia could not be distinctly traced, but thought there was reason to
believe that the use of this symbol was not of very great antiquity. He
said, with reference to it being upon the coins of one of the Seljukian
dynasty of Iconium, that when this family was destroyed by Halaku,
the grandson of Chengiz, it was far from improbable that that Prince or
his successor adopted this emblematical representation as a trophy of
his conquest, and that it has remained ever since among the most
remarkable of the royal insignia of Persia. He also mentioned the
opinion that this representation of Sol in Leo was first adopted by
Ghiat-u-dîn-Kai-Khusru-bin-Kai-Kobad, 1236 A.D., and that the emblem is
supposed to have reference either to his own horoscope or that of his
Queen, who was a Princess of Georgia. This approaches the legend told by
the Malik-ut-Tujjar of Tehran, for the face depicted on Sol is that of a
woman.
[Transcriber's note 1: The original text has Durnfsh-i-Kawâh. The original
Farsi is Derafsh-i-Kaviani. The typesetter must have read an
'a' as an 'n'. Durnfsh is otherwise unpronounceable.]