In the same manner, in India snakes are supposed to be specially gifted with the faculty of distinguishing persons of royal race or born to rule.[323.2] One example will be enough. The Gandharbs of Benares, a caste of singers and prostitutes, ascribe their origin to Doman Deo, the second Raghubansi Râjput king of Chandrâvati. He had a groom named Shîru, who one day went into the jungle to cut grass, and fell asleep. While he slept, a cobra raised its hood over his head, and a wagtail kept flying above him. In that condition his master saw him, and afterwards asked him what he would do for him if he became king. Shîru promised to make him his prime minister. Going subsequently to Delhi, the throne of which was vacant, Shîru was chosen emperor, in the manner with which we are already acquainted, by an elephant laying a garland on his neck; and he redeemed his word by making Doman Deo his wazîr.[323.3] In Further India a saga of the Chams relates that Klong Garay, who plays a great part in their legendary history, was found by a companion of his wanderings, after a temporary absence, sleeping and watched by two dragons, which were licking his body. Then he knew, we are told, that Klong Garay was of royal race.[324.1] The child of a king of Siam by a Naga, or divine snake, being exposed, was found and adopted by a hunter. The king’s subjects were compelled by law to work in turn for the king. The hunter, when summoned, took with him his adopted child and laid it in the shadow of the palace, to protect it from the rays of the sun while he performed his task. But the spire of the palace inclined before the child, and the shadow appeared to fly. This prodigy put the king upon enquiry, and he identified his son by means of the ring and mantle which he had given to the lady, and which had been found with the child.[324.2] In the old English metrical romance of Havelok the Dane, the hero is identified by means of a royal mark, “a croiz ful gent,” shining brighter than gold on his right shoulder.
“It sparkede, and ful brith shon,
So doth the gode charbucle ston,
That men mouthe se by the lith
A peni chesen, so was it brith.”[324.3]
The romance in which the incident is found is a literary version of the local tradition of Grimsby, still commemorated in the seal of the corporation. The poem dates from the end of the thirteenth century. There are two French versions which I have not seen. Professor Skeat has epitomized the longer in the preface to his edition of the English romance. In it a flame issues from Havelok’s mouth when he sleeps. This is a personal peculiarity, also found in the English lay. His heirship to the throne of Denmark is determined by his ability to blow a horn which none but the true heir could sound. Thus we are brought back to the succession by divination from which we started, and of which the simple diagnosis of royal descent is a corruption and a weakening. It is preserved here, we know not by what cause, after its true meaning had been forgotten. Adopted first of all into tradition from living custom, when the custom was superseded by other means of determining the succession it survived as a tradition until, its true intent being gradually lost, while the hereditary principle was strengthened and fenced about with sanctity, the incident faded into a merely picturesque presentation, in some places of prophecy, in other places of the claims of birth.
The study of folk-tales is often despised as mere trifling. But traditional narratives must always occupy an important place in the study of the past. Rightly used they have much to tell us of human history, of human thought and the evolution of human institutions. It may safely be said that of all the incidents that compose them there is none which is not a concrete presentation either of human institutions or of human belief. They are all thus in a sense the outcome of actual human experiences. The stories of election by augury are not wilder than the authentic facts. The telescopic mountain of Karagwe, which Rumanika averred himself to have experienced, is at least as wonderful as the groaning of the Lia Fáil, or the lighting of a dry twig. Even if we may be allowed to rationalize it in the manner suggested by the ordeal required of the chosen candidate for the throne of the neighbouring Bakerewe, it remains evidence of the belief imposed by the power of imagination in a moment of excitement. Analogous performances are averred by the votaries of what is called spiritualism to have been exhibited in our own day by mediums, and were solemnly recorded long ago in the witch-trials of various European countries. In one of the stories I have cited we found the dying monarch laying down among the conditions to be fulfilled by his successor, that the women of the royal household should recognize him. Secret intrigues of the harem are believed to determine the devolution of many an Eastern crown. But that the formal and ceremonial choice of the heir should be made by the wives of the deceased ruler seems too grotesque to be known outside a fairy tale. Yet this was the law a hundred years ago in the kingdom of Quiteve, on the south-eastern coast of Africa. When a king died the queens (that is to say, his legitimate wives) named the person who was to accompany his body to the burial-place, and the person thus named became the successor.[326.1] In an adjoining kingdom a similar law prevailed. It was forbidden to any prince to enter the palace where the women were, or to take possession of the kingdom without their consent, and whoever entered by violence and took possession against their will, lost his right of succession. The Portuguese friar, to whom we are indebted for the information, records a case which happened while he was in Sofala, and in which the claimant would have entered and formally seated himself in the royal hall with the royal widows. They, however, were unwilling to acknowledge him as their king and husband. Accordingly they secretly summoned another member of the royal family, seated him with them in the public place, and sent officers through the town to proclaim the new sovereign and call his subjects to do homage. The pretender fled. This instance is the more remarkable because the unsuccessful claimant had in his favour the nomination of the previous monarch. Though this constituted not an indefeasible title, it afforded at least a strong presumption in his favour. Yet it was defeated, in accordance with established and publicly acknowledged custom, by the choice of the harem.
Nor was the rule requiring the choice, or at any rate the recognition, by the harem so redolent of the comic opera as it may seem, since the women all became the wives of the new king.[327.1] This is usual in Africa, and not in Africa only, but in other regions where a similar type of polygamous monarchical society exists. It is most familiar to us among the ancient Hebrews. Absalom, by taking possession of his father’s harem, made a final and unqualified assertion of his succession to the throne. Solomon evidently regarded Adonijah’s request for Abishag the Shunammite as a pretension inconsistent with his own sovereignty; for she had been part of King David’s harem, though in fact no more than his nurse.[327.2] In these cases the women had probably little to say in the matter. But by the customs of the South-Eastern Bantu a man’s widows, though they are bound to the family of the deceased, are allowed some latitude in the choice of the individual man with whom they will mate. Among the Thonga, for example, at the final distribution of the estate, any of the widows who refuses to take the husband to whom she has been provisionally allotted will be permitted to exercise her own preference.[328.1] The power accorded to the widowed queens of Quiteve to choose their new husband was hardly an extension of this liberty. That it drew with it incidentally the right to the kingdom was a consequence which did not affect the principle.
[The End]
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL LIST
Intended to facilitate reference to modern works cited and not otherwise sufficiently described.
Alexander, Sir James Edward, K.L.S., An Expedition of Discovery into the Interior of Africa. 2 vols. London, 1838.
Alldridge, T. J., F.R.G.S., The Sherbro and its Hinterland. London, 1901.