Numerous Frank and Armenian merchants reside in Smyrna, the manners and costumes of which are a curious combination of various nations. It seems very odd to travellers to meet ladies with English or French names, wearing the Turkish or Greek costume, and speaking the Greek language. The Carnival is celebrated at Smyrna with extraordinary splendor. On this occasion the ladies appear in their richest attire, and there is a continual succession of waltzing parties, concerts, and theatricals.
The wealthy Frank merchants residing in Turkey are extremely cautious in arranging the marriage contracts of their daughters. The bridegroom engages to secure his wife a certain portion of his fortune, in case she survives him, and receives, on his part, a written promise from her father of the money, jewels, clothes, &c. constituting the dowry, and of the portion he intends to leave her at his death.
The Persians seem to have been remarkable among the ancient nations for a savage jealousy of women, which led them to keep the objects of their love perpetually imprisoned and guarded. Their severity is spoken of as extraordinary, by Plutarch, and other authors, who wrote at a period when even the most enlightened nations allowed very little freedom to their women. Yet the Persians are said to have been the first who carried their wives and children into the field of battle: “We do it,” said they, “that the sight of all that is most dear to us, may animate us to fight more valiantly in their defence.”
The Medes and Persians are likewise supposed to have been the first who introduced dancing and singing women to entertain their guests at a banquet; but the fact that Cyrus gave two captive female musicians to his uncle Cyaxares, proves that music was cultivated at a very early period, by nations which yielded to the dominion of Persia.
The character of Cyrus is the brightest page in Persian history. At a time when female captives taken in war were treated with the utmost indignity, and sometimes with savage barbarity, he was distinguished for a degree of respectful gallantry, which would have done credit to the most refined prince of modern times.
When told that the exquisitely beautiful wife of Abradatas had been assigned to him among other spoils of the Assyrian camp, and that the woman wept incessantly for her husband, to whom she was fondly attached, Cyrus at once resolved not to see her, lest her unrivalled loveliness should make it difficult for him to do his duty. In fact, he protected her against himself, and against one of his favorite officers, who, being appointed to attend upon the beautiful Panthea, had become a captive to her charms. Nothing could exceed the gratitude of the princess, when she found herself and her attendant maidens living in the midst of the Persian camp with as much safety and seclusion, as if she had been in the palace of her husband. Abradatas having received information of the magnanimous conduct of Cyrus, immediately hastened to engage himself, his troops and treasures, in the service of the virtuous monarch. When he was about to go forth to battle with Cyrus, Panthea brought him a golden helmet and arm-pieces, with broad bracelets for his wrists, which without his knowledge she had caused to be made from her own jewels. When he asked, with affectionate surprise, if she had sacrificed her ornaments for him, she replied that her husband was her greatest ornament. She then reminded him of their obligations to Cyrus, and told him that much as she loved him, she had rather be buried with him than live to know he had been deficient in courage. Abradatas laid his hand gently on her head, and looking upward, exclaimed, “O, great Jove, make me worthy of such a wife as Panthea, and such a friend as Cyrus!” As the princess put on his armor, she turned aside to conceal her tears; and when the door of his chariot was closed, she kissed the steps by which he had entered, and followed after him. When he perceived this, he again bade her farewell, and entreated her to return. Her attendants placed her on a litter, and threw a tent-covering over her, to conceal her from the admiring troops. When the dead body of Abradatas was brought from the battle, Panthea reproached herself that she had urged him to such desperate courage. With the stern enthusiasm of ancient times, she stabbed herself to the heart, and died on her husband’s breast; having first given directions that their corpses should be wrapped in the same mantle. The Persian monarch, with sincere lamentations, ordered magnificent funeral rites, and a monument to be erected to their memory.
There is reason to suppose that Cyrus was blessed in his own domestic relations; for we are told that he mourned for his wife Cassandana with the sincerest grief, and commanded public demonstrations of sorrow throughout the empire.
The virtuous decorum of Cyrus was an exception to the general character of Persian princes. Men of rank, who could indulge their whims without control, sometimes married their own sisters and daughters. Artaxerxes Memnon, being in love with his beautiful daughter Atossa, had some fears that the affair would not redound to his credit; but his mother quieted these scruples by saying, “Are you not set over the Persians by the gods, as the only rule of right and wrong?”
Another of the Persian kings called the magi together to give their opinion on a similar occasion. The accommodating priests answered, “We can find no law that authorizes a man to marry his own daughter; but our laws authorize a king to do whatever he pleases.”