To mention another singular usage, sometimes two, sometimes four days after the nuptials, the newly-married couple are separated, and the permanent union does not begin until after the expiration of an entire year.
Another singular custom has reference to the mourning for the decease of a beloved member of the family. It is the practice, in the tent of the departed one, each day for a whole year, without exception, at the same hour that he drew his last breath, for female mourners to chant the customary dirges, in which the members of the family present are expected to join. In doing so, the latter proceed with their ordinary daily employments and occupations; [{324}] and it is quite ridiculous to see how the Turkoman polishes his arms and smokes his pipe, or devours his meal, to the accompaniment of these frightful yells of sorrow. A similar thing occurs with the women, who, seated in the smaller circumference of the tent itself, are wont to join in the chant, to cry and weep in the most plaintive manner, whilst they are at the same time cleaning wool, spinning, or performing some other duty of household industry. The friends and acquaintances of the deceased are also expected to pay a visit of lamentation, and that even when the first intelligence of the misfortune does not reach them until after months have elapsed. The visitor seats himself before the tent, often at night, and, by a thrilling yell of fifteen minutes' duration, gives notice that he has thus performed his last duty towards the defunct. When a chief of distinction, one who has really well earned the title of Bator (valiant), perishes, it is the practice to throw up over his grave a Joszka [Footnote 101] (large mound); to this every good Turkoman is bound to contribute at least seven shovelfuls of earth, so that these elevations often have a circumference of sixty feet, and a height of from twenty to thirty feet. In the great plains these mounds are very conspicuous objects; the Turkoman knows them all, and calls them by their names,--that is to say, by the names of those that rest below.
[Footnote 101: This custom existed amongst the ancient Huns, and is in use in Hungary even at the present day. In Kashau (Upper Hungary) a mound was raised a few years ago, at the suggestion of Count Edward Karolyi, in memory of the highly-respected Count St. Széchenyi.]
Let me conclude this short account of the Turkomans with a still briefer review of their history, in which I shall confine myself to what, in these particulars, I have heard regarded as traditions still commanding credit amongst them. 'We all spring,' said to me my learned friend Kizil Akhond, 'from Manghischlak. Our ancestors were Szön Khan and Eszen Ili. Yomut and Tekke were the sons of the first, Tchaudor and Göklen of the second. Manghischlak was in the most ancient times called Ming Kischlak (a thousand winter quarters), and is the original home, not only of those of our race who have separated and migrated to Persia, but of the Ersari, Salor, and the rest of the tribes. Our saints of the olden times, as Ireg Ata [Footnote 102] and Sari-er, repose within the confines of Manghischlak; and especially fortunate is he who has been able to visit their tombs.' Khandjan told me that, so late as one hundred and fifty years ago, the Turkomans had very rarely any other dresses than those which they prepared of sheepskins, or the hides of horse or wild ass; that nowadays this was all changed, and the only thing that remains to remind us of the old national costume is the fur cap.
[Footnote 102: Ireg Ata means 'the great father' in Hungarian; Oreg Atya, 'old father.']
The animosities prevailing amongst the different tribes often lead to the reciprocal insulting reproach of 'descendants of slaves.' The time when they left their common country cannot be fixed with exactitude. Ersari, Sarik, and Salor were already, at the time of the Arabian occupation, in the eastern part of the desert, on this side of the Oxus. Tekke, Göklen, and Yomut took possession of their present country at a [{326}] later period, perhaps in the time of Djinghis Khan and Timour. The change of abode of these last-mentioned tribes took place only by partial emigrations, and, indeed, cannot even at the present day be said to be more than half complete, for many Yomuts and Göklens still loiter about their ancient seat with singular predilection. During the middle ages, the Turkoman horsemen were for the most part to be met with in the service of the Khans of Khiva and Bokhara; often, also, under the banners of Persia. The renown of their bravery, and particularly of their furious charges, spread far and wide; and certain of their leaders, like Kara Yuszuf, who took part with the tribe Salor in the campaigns of Timour, acquired historical celebrity. The Turkomans contributed much to the Turkecising of North Persia, at the epoch when the family of the Atabegs ruled in Iran; and beyond all dispute it is they who contributed the largest contingent to the Turkish population on the other side of the Caucasus, to Azerbaydjan, Mazendran, and Shiraz. [Footnote 103]
[Footnote 103: There are even now four or five of the smaller Turkish tribes living a nomadic life in the district around Shiraz. Their Ilkhani (chieftain), with whom I became acquainted in Shiraz in 1862, told me that he can raise from them 30,000 horsemen, and some, as the Kashkai and the Allahverdi, had been transplanted hither by Djinghis Khan. In Europe this fact has not been appreciated; and even Burnes, in other respects well informed, thinks he has found, in a place of like name in the vicinity of Samarcand, the Turki shirazi mentioned by Hafiz in his songs.]
It is remarkable that in spite of the bitter hostility reigning between the Turkomans and their Shiite brethren in Persia, the former still always especially name Azerbaydjan as the seat of a higher civilisation; and whenever the Bakhshi is asked to sing something more than usually beautiful and original, Azerbaydjanian songs are always called for: nay, even the captive Irani, if of Turkish origin, may always expect more merciful treatment, for the Turkoman says, 'He is our brother, this unbeliever.' [Footnote 104]