When I was in Turkestan a young officer, a cousin of the Sultana’s, was ill. The Hakims, who were attending him, not knowing the use of the stethoscope, could not diagnose the case, and after some days I was sent for. I found that he had had Pneumonia, or Inflammation of the lung, and that instead of clearing up, the inflamed lung had become tubercular, and a cavity could be detected in it. He had developed consumption. I did what I could, but it was too late for any permanent relief to be afforded him.
He became worse, and one day when I called, he was manifestly dying. I found several men sitting on the ground by the bedside reciting prayers continuously. I enquired why they were doing so at this time, and was told they would continue praying till he died, for he was then passing to Paradise over the narrow bridge whose edge was sharper than a razor, and that the continuous prayers kept away the evil spirits who were endeavouring to drag him down into the abyss.
The men praying were his nearest relations, and with them was a priest; for although it is the Mahomedan custom for the nearest relatives to recite the prayers on this occasion, a priest is generally sent for also.
Royal Tombs.
The graves of the richer Afghans have upright headstones of marble or slate carefully shaped and ornamented. The writing on them is in relief, the stone being chipped away from the letters. The tomb of an illustrious man is bricked round, about two feet high, and covered with a slab of marble. Occasionally one is surrounded by a fence: trees and flowers being planted in the enclosure. The grave of the Amîr’s father near Kabul is cared for in this way. Others have a sort of small mosque or musjid built over them; and the deceased, when his name is forgotten, becomes a holy man and a saint.
The grave of a poor man has a flat stone, the largest his friends can find, planted upright to mark the place of burial: many have no mark at all, but the collection of mounds is not to be mistaken. The graveyard is not walled in or enclosed. The tombs of the kings are, some of them, imposing. That of Timour Shah in Kabul (son of Ahmed Shah, founder of the Durani Empire) is a very fine piece of brickwork. A huge central dome is surrounded by a series of flat-roofed rooms, the ground plan of the structure being octagonal. No care is taken of it, and it is becoming dilapidated by time. The tomb of Babur Shah, just outside Kabul, is also becoming dilapidated. It is smaller and of marble, in the style of the smaller musjids, with pillars to support the roof. Another tomb just outside Kabul is built in the shape of a musjid. It is that of a grandson of Amîr Dost Mahomed. I knew his son very well, Sirdar Abdul Kûdus Khan. The latter once was of great service to the Amîr. In one engagement, by a brilliant charge, he completely turned the fortunes of the day. Success was too much for him, and he became presumptuous. He was accordingly ordered into honourable confinement. Some time afterwards he was allowed to appear at court, but for many years no appointment was given to him. Quite recently, he received office, being made Governor of the province of Bamian.
The Proposal of Marriage.
The marriage ceremony differs very much from ours in England. Firstly, the young Afghan does not see his sweetheart till she becomes his wife—at any rate he is not supposed to. He hears that such a man has a very pretty daughter, and that she is likely to have so much dowry. He therefore sends his mother or sisters on a visit to the harem. The ladies, properly veiled, are conducted there by their servants in a closed palanquin. On their return they give their opinion, and all the information they have managed to glean. If everything is satisfactory to the young man, he approaches the father or guardian, and makes his proposal. If he is accepted as a suitor, an opportunity is given to the young lady to see the swain herself, unobserved. She can, if she like, refuse him, and if she be a girl of strong character, may be successful in her refusal: but I know that sometimes considerable pressure is brought to bear, if her wishes are contrary to those of her father or guardian. Sometimes the young man, if he holds a subordinate position, will prevail upon his superior officer to make the proposal for him to the father or guardian. It may have more weight. I once had this onerous and pleasing duty to perform. I marshalled all my servants, and rode off with as much ceremony as possible, to the house of the young lady. I had a vague sort of an idea I might see her; but I did not: she saw me, which was not so satisfactory. When I arrived at the house, I was conducted through the courtyard into an upstairs room, where the guardian—her brother in this case—received me. A party of gentlemen were in the room, and they all rose as I entered. After the usual salutations a chair was offered me: the rest seated themselves cross-legged round the room. I made a formal proposal in the name of my subordinate, and a discussion followed. I was surprised at the free and open way in which they said the man for whom I was making the proposal was a rascal and a liar, and that he had not the money he said he had. There was no delicate hinting that, perhaps, they had erred in assuming his fortune was such and such. I naturally anticipated a refusal; no, out of respect for me, he was accepted! Then a large tray of loaf sugar broken into pieces was brought in, and first I and the guardian, then the others, ate a little, and the rest was given to the servants. After that we had tea, and I rode off home again, where the anxious lover was waiting for me. I said,
“They called you very bad names.”
“That matters little;” said he, “did you eat the sugar?”