"You have, no doubt," said he to me, "read of the famous Seljûkian Prince Sanjar. That sovereign, not content with an annual tribute of twenty-four thousand sheep which we gave him, wanted to increase the number, and to send one of his own officers to choose from our flocks, instead of trusting to the honour of our chiefs. This we could never put up with; so we fought him, destroyed his army, and took him prisoner. He was for some years set upon a throne every day, and confined in a cage every night; but at last he made his escape; and being a soft-hearted, foolish blockhead, died of grief, from seeing the state of desolation to which we had reduced his favourite province of Khorassan! After this," continued he, "we became the terror of the world, and the name of Tûrkûmân, which had long been despised, was dreaded everywhere. Who has not heard," said he exultingly, "of our princes and chiefs who subdued kingdoms, and plundered empires, under the glorious banners of the white and the black sheep? But these days of sovereignty did not last long; we separated, and have never since done any thing worthy of mention. The tribe of Yamoot," continued my old friend, "to which I belong, remained long unsubdued, and made famous annual inroads into Persia; but the late king, Aga Mahomed Khan, who was a cruel, wily, old rogue, spoiled all that sport. Being well acquainted with our haunts, he made a sudden incursion into our country, slew numbers, and brought away many captives, the majority of whom were women and children."
"The possession of our families," said Rahmân Beg, as he concluded this short history of his tribe, "compelled our chiefs to enter into a compact not to plunder, and they have been obliged to give their children as hostages for its faithful performance. The present king has improved upon the policy of his uncle: a colony of our tribe is established at Teheran; some are in service, and the others, though strictly watched, are permitted to trade. If matters go on in this way our sons will become a set of blackguard horse-dealers, instead of gallant warriors, and their children will be instructed in the art of cheating unwary citizens, instead of the more manly occupation of plundering a rich traveller. We shall have no more fine Persian girls to keep our tents clean, and dress our victuals, nor active fellows to rub our horses, or attend our flocks! What a sad change! And as to our profits in breeding and selling horses, I have known more money given in one day for the ransom of a nobleman or a wealthy merchant, than our whole tribe can now make by trafficking in cattle for a twelvemonth!"
I asked Rahmân Beg, how he, as a Mahomedan, could reconcile himself to make slaves of persons of the same religion? "What," said he, "do you count these rascally Sheâhs, the Persians, who deny the first four Caliphs, to be of the same religion as we Soonees?—they are vile schismatics." "Then," I observed, "when you made Soonees captives, you did not make them slaves?" "Why! I don't know; I think," he added, laughing, "we should in such case have been compelled to become Sheâhs ourselves; for slaves we must have."
The Tûrkûmâns, of whom Rahmân Beg is a fair specimen, pay little if any regard to religion beyond a few ceremonies. The rites observed at their births, funerals, and marriages, are not essentially different from those of the other wandering tribes in Persia. The courage of this tribe is proverbial, and both the Persians and Afghâns admit their extraordinary prowess. They use bows and arrows, and some few have fire-arms, but the weapon on which they place most dependence is the spear. This is in general from ten to twelve feet long, rudely formed, and with a short piece of steel at the point.
As we were one day looking at a party of the king's guards,[93] each of whom was armed with a sword, a spear, a pair of pistols, and a dagger, Rahmân Beg tossed up his head in contempt, exclaiming, "What is the good of all that arsenal? what can a soldier want beyond a spear and a heart?"[94]
The Tûrkûmâns are fond of music and dancing. The celebrated song of "Koor Ogloo," or The Son of the Blind Man, is chanted when they go to battle, and is said to have a wonderful effect in exciting the courage of this rude race. I asked Rahmân Beg to give me a copy of this song; he could not, but gave me its general purport, and repeated some lines with great animation.
The burthen of the song is the wonderful deeds of the son of a poor blind old man, who employed himself in plundering travellers and caravans, while his father dwelt in the recesses of a wood which lay between two great cities. The prowess of the single arm of the "Son of the blind man" was so great, that hundreds could not withstand it; and when thousands were sent against him, his fleet horse Kerât carried him to a place of security.
The praises of the hero and his horse, the prodigies of valour of the one, the wonderful fleetness of the other, with the descriptions of rich plunder, and beautiful damsels, which abound throughout this song, are quite congenial to the habits of a Tûurkûmân; and I could believe all the feelings, that I was told its recitation produced, from the effect the mere account of it that he gave me had on Rahmân Beg. "Others of the Tartar blood," said my old friend, "admire this fine composition; but a set of fellows who live as they do, are not worthy of such verses; and we also," he added, "if we go on as we are now doing, shall soon be ashamed to hear them sung by our minstrels; who may well cherish these old strains, for we no longer supply them with deeds for new songs of battle!"
I was very anxious to learn all I could of the breed and management of the Tûrkûmân horses, which are so highly valued in Persia. They are of good size, being from fifteen to sixteen hands high, of excellent temper, and of a shape, like that of the highest bred English carriage-horses, lengthy and strong limbed; and often showing a great deal of blood.