Life of Schamyl Part 3

When the song of the dancer runs on love and vaunts the praises of some maiden renowned for beauty, the young warriors present pledge their own sweethearts in bowls of boza, and every few minutes discharge their pistols or rifles in the air. This latter act is always regarded as a challenge to the whole company, and whoever has a charge of gunpowder left immediately burns it in honor of the superior charms of his lady-love.

The intervals of repose between the dances and songs are very naturally filled up by story-telling. For the Circa.s.sians are scarcely less fond of tales and fables than of music and the fling. Having no books they hang eagerly upon the lips of whoever is skilled in recounting story, legend, and adventure, with the gift perhaps of throwing in sc.r.a.ps of song, proverbs, and jests, together with occasional displays of mimicry, feats in ventriloquism, grimaces, whistling, chirruping, and ringing all the changes of laughter. The winter evening's log burns to embers while some clever, sweet-tongued narrator repeats some of the thousand and one tales of the war against the Russians, or recites the adventures of the chase on the Terek and in the higher Caucasus, or dwells in turn now upon the ancient traditions of the tribes, and now on the wonders which the recent traveller has beheld in Tiflis, Constantinople, or St.

Petersburg. The imagination of the mountaineer is ardent, however simple may be his own manner of life, and he loves especially to hear of the marvels of either eastern or western magnificence; so that when after an evening spent in listening to such recitals he lays his head upon his mat or his saddle, it is full to bursting of hanging gardens and marble palaces, high towers and the minarets of mosques, the gorgeous ceremonies of courts, the array and glitter of parades, and the gaudy street-pageants and bustle of affairs in the great metropolitan capitals of the plains.

XV.

FESTIVALS.

The Circa.s.sian year was pretty well crowded with festivals until recently, when the introduction of the Mahometan doctrines put an end to a good many of the merry usages of paganism. The hearts of the people continuing to cling with tenacity, however, to what was most pleasing in the ancient superst.i.tions, there are still left a considerable number of the old festal ceremonies and observances. At new year, at the beginning and ending of the March moon, at the gathering of the harvest, as well as on many minor occasions throughout the year, the people a.s.semble to hold their sacred feasts, when for lack of priests the aged and most revered warriors present to the divinities the prayers of the congregation; the goat, the sheep, or the ox is sacrificed, and afterward feasted upon; libations of mead are poured, though less upon the ground than down the throats of the wors.h.i.+ppers; while unleavened bread and cheese-cakes are devoured with a voraciousness very little akin to devotion. Dances, songs, and stories are duly intermingled; also racing, wrestling, and leaping; and finally, the solemnity is closed with exercises in sharp-shooting, and the discharge of firearms in the air.

The season immediately following the harvest when the wheat, the millet, and the corn have been garnered up in the storehouses, and the winter's fodder for the cattle has been stacked in the fields, is especially a time of merry-making. An unusual joy also attends the labors of securing the crops. For the mowers sing their national airs in the meadows, and keep time with the sweep of their scythes. Sometimes at the commencement of the hay-harvest they may be seen going into the fields in parties of fifties; and any company of travellers happening then to be pa.s.sing by will be good-naturedly attacked with both scythes and shouts, pulled from their horses, and carried off in triumph. For their ransom they will have to give at least a sheep to help out the evening's supper, besides honey enough to make mead for the whole company. And with such a prospect of feasting before them the laborers will return with increased zest to their work, swinging gaily their short scythes worn well-nigh to the backbone, roaming in parties. .h.i.ther and thither through the field, and attacking, amid songs and shoutings, the thickest ma.s.ses of gra.s.s as if so many Russian _corps d'armee_.

A pleasing rural sight indeed it is, the green valley glowing in the warm sunlight, and its gra.s.s coa.r.s.e, but savory to the cattle, lying in heavy swaths, or piled in stacks. Mixed with this are the juicy chicory-stalks eight or ten feet in height, and tipped with light blue flowers. The sweet clover also, of both the white and red varieties, is scattered more or less among the taller gra.s.ses; so that the meadow is as fragrant as a bank of wild flowers, or a parterre in a garden.

With rejoicings somewhat similar is the return of seed-time celebrated, except it is then the time for hopes instead of thanksgivings. And the joy felt at this season when, the time of the singing of birds having come and the voice of the turtle being heard in the land, the grain is committed in faith of increase to the earth, is the greater in consequence of a period of partial abstinence and renunciation of social pleasures, a.n.a.logous to the Christian lent, having preceded it. For during the month of March the Circa.s.sian puts himself on a low diet, refraining especially from the eating of eggs, and will neither hire, lend, borrow, or receive any thing from another, not even a light from a neighbor's house. So general seems to be the prompting of nature in favor of a period of fasting at the commencement of the spring. But the March moon once set there is immediately held a feast, at which what few of the eggs laid by in the course of the month preceding have not already in the course of the day been devoured, are fired at as a mark, and when the skins of the victims slain at the festival become the reward of the conquerors.

There is no great variety in the Circa.s.sian festivals, for whatever be the object of them, there is the same roasting of sheep and oxen, the same singing and dancing, the same mark-firing, horse-racing, and athletic games. The private feasts, also, are accompanied with amus.e.m.e.nts very similar in character, excepting that there is generally a very long succession of dishes, with interchange of presents between hosts and guests, and also with the difference that religious ceremonies are practised only on the more public occasions, the Circa.s.sian having, at least before the introduction of Mahometanism, no domestic wors.h.i.+p, nor guiding his personal conduct by any religious sentiments separate from his sense of duty in the domestic and social relations, his feeling of honor, and love of country.

XVI.

HIS RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.

The princ.i.p.al part of the early training of Schamyl consisted in daily practising the games and warlike exercises of his countrymen; but there was besides the important teaching received from Dschelal Eddin. The latter had begun when the boy was still of tender age giving him lessons in the Arabic tongue and grammar; and through a period of several years had continued expounding to him, probably in a cla.s.s with others, the wisdom of the Koran, until he was sufficiently advanced in its knowledge to be appointed to chant it in the messdshed during divine service.

Still later he instructed his intelligent pupil in the Mahometan literature and philosophy; no doubt, with acute elucidation of definitions and first principles, with learned comments on the maxims of the Sunnite and Sufite doctors, and with various ill.u.s.trations of the character of the princ.i.p.al writers in oriental science and fiction, both Arabic and Persian. For the Daghestan teachers of theology, called ulemas or murschids, are not without repute for both subtilty and erudition; and Dschelal Eddin was one of the most learned among them.

Like most of these professors the sage of Himri was one of the sect of the Sufis; and it was their view of the Mahometan system of doctrine which he made it the burden of his lectures to explain and impress upon the mind of his pupil.

At first, the latter was indoctrinated in the law of externals which is called the Scharyat, and is to be observed alike by all Moslems. It prescribes prayers, almsgivings, fasting, pilgrimages, and ablutions, besides various rules to be observed in all the domestic and social relations. This is the common law of Mahometanism, the requirements of which are supposed to be universally known, and may be complied with, at least in the letter, without either learning or piety.

Next was explained to him the higher law of the Tarykat, or "path" to perfection. The knowledge of this is not for the common people, but for those only who endeavor to obey the commands of Allah, not as external ordinances and ceremonies, but because they appreciate their justness, and who practise virtue not merely for the promise of reward, but also from a sincere admiration of its nature, and delight in its exercise.

These alone are worthy of being initiated into the mystery of the tarykat.

But the path to truth is not the truth itself. As only he who perseveres and pushes onward in a race finally arrives at the goal, so only by the continued and disinterested pursuit of truth is it finally found, and the Sufi attains to the third stage in the spiritual life which is called the Hakyat. To reach this exalted condition of humanity the disciple must restrain all his natural pa.s.sions and moderate all his desires. In the denial of self he must labor for the good of others.

Whatever contributes to refine the feelings, to exalt the thoughts, to extend the knowledge of the spiritual world, is to be desired; while the l.u.s.t of the flesh, the l.u.s.t of the eye, and the pride of life are to be as earnestly repressed and mortified. The seeker after the truth finds it only by frequent meditation amid the solitude of nature. Thither he will go both to study the pages of the sacred books and to decipher the scroll of his own inner consciousness. Thither also will he repair to commune with the one universal spirit which pervades all things, but which reveals itself especially to those who seek for it in the deep stillness of the forests, among the rocks of the mountains, and by the secluded waterfalls and fountains. In this high communion alone is it that man arrives at the perfection of which his nature is capable.

The state of the hakyat fully attained, man has to take but one step more and he is perfect even as G.o.d is perfect. This is the state called the Maarifat. For whoever has pa.s.sed through the preceding degrees of perfection will at last be favored with intuitions in which, being in ecstasy, his spirit will mingle with the infinite spirit, and humanity will become divinity. To this condition of ecstasy the Sufis give the name of _h'al_. In it meditation having been carried so far as to result in apathy and a total loss of self-consciousness, the flesh having been to such a degree mortified and annihilated as to admit of a temporary separation of the spirit from the body, and the personal self being so completely relieved of the limitations of time and s.p.a.ce that it returns to its normal condition of universality, then the soul of the Sufi and the soul of Allah are one. Both are infinite, all-knowing, impersonal, and the only reality. Whoever has thus beheld the unveiled face of G.o.d is ever after superior to the law of externals, and is guided entirely by the inner light of reason. He fears no punishment and is influenced by no hope of reward, save the sting and approval of his own conscience.

When he gives alms it is not because the scharyat prescribes, but his own heart prompts it; if he practises was.h.i.+ngs it is also not because he is required so to do by the Koran, but from himself regarding cleanliness as next to G.o.dliness. Henceforth his soul is vexed by no doubts respecting spiritual truth; he is exposed to no errors of faith; he is elevated to a state of beat.i.tude which is even independent of the performance of good works; and being made a partaker of the unity of the divine nature he knows no further distinction of sects, but regards the true believers of all creeds as brethren. "Whoso," say the Habistan, "does not acknowledge that it is indifferent whether he is a Mussulman or a Christian, has not raised himself to the truth, and knows not the essence of being."

Such in brief was the system of religious doctrine which Schamyl learned sitting at the feet of Dschelal Eddin. But that it was fully adopted by him in the heyday of youth and in possession of an intellect as penetrating as his feeling was ardent, is not to be believed. More or less of its influence, however, may be seen in the habits of temperance and frugality uniformly maintained by him, in his perfect self-control, in his love for contemplation amid the solitude of nature, as well as by his subsequently making it, at least theoretically, the rule of his life and the basis of his system of policy.

XVII.

HIS MARRIAGE.

The age at which Schamyl took a wife is not known; but probably it was not over that of twenty-one. Nor, although later in life his harem consisted of three ladies, one of whom was a beautiful young Armenian, can any positive information be given respecting the character or person of the one espoused first. In accordance with Circa.s.sian usages she might have been selected by his atalik from the cla.s.s of maidens in Himri whose circ.u.mstances in life were not unlike his own; or which is perhaps more likely to have been the case, she might have been one who was preferred by the young man himself from his having been smitten by her grace in the dance on the green, or having received from her fair hands the embroidered scarf won as a prize in the games.

However this might have been, the first step towards the marriage must have consisted in carrying off the girl, nothing loth doubtless, through the agency of a party of his friends. This feat successfully accomplished, though frequently it is no more than a formality and mere fiction in usage, the next thing to be done was to settle with her father or friends the price of her. The market value of a maid in Circa.s.sia depends upon both her rank and her charms. If a belle of the blood of the chieftains of a tribe in the western Caucasus, she may be worth as much as two hundred and fifty pieces of merchandise, valued at one dollar each, besides eight or ten horses and four or five serf-girls, which is more than the price formerly paid by Homer's heroes, as in the case of the

Daughter of Ops, the just Pisenor's son, For twenty beeves by great Laertes won.

But it is not probable that Schamyl gave for his wife more than a gun or a sabre, a horse or a couple of beeves. But this much it must certainly have cost him to get respectably married; for without gifts to her parents no Circa.s.sian young woman is ever given in marriage, unless in some such exceptional circ.u.mstances as when Agamemnon wis.h.i.+ng to appease the wrath of Achilles after the robbery of Briseis proposed to replace her by one of his own daughters, and said that "far from exacting from him the accustomed presents he would endow the girl with immense riches."

This rule, however does not apply to widows, who being considered as the property of the fraternity to which belonged the deceased husband, are given away gratis to whoever will accept of them. And while a female of this cla.s.s would not fetch so much as a cow or a buffalo in the market, no man of course would ever deem it worth his while to be at the pains of the elopement.

But in the case of a maid being carried off, unless a satisfactory dowry were promptly given, a feud would arise between the parties which could scarcely be settled without bloodshed. If, however, a young man being deeply smitten with love, or for any other reason, elopes with a fair one before he has acc.u.mulated a sufficient fortune to defray the expense of such a luxury, it is common enough for him to pay down what money or valuables he may have, and give security for the remainder. The transaction being like any other in business is done in plain words, and without any pretence on the part of the suitor of being actuated solely by disinterested affection.

Once the bargain struck there is a feast. When the parties have a sufficiency of means, the relatives and friends a.s.semble to the number perhaps of several hundreds to celebrate the betrothals by a picnic and a dance from morning till night. A master of ceremonies with a long flat baton as a symbol of authority makes his proclamation calling upon all present to lay aside their feuds, if any they have, and take their places in the dance. The musicians with three-fingered pipes and two-stringed violins are drawn up in the centre of the ring, when each gallant placing his arms under those of the damsels on either side, and interlacing his fingers with theirs, they all move slowly around in the immense circle, singing at the same time a sort of accompaniment to the instrumental music, swinging the body gracefully backwards and forwards, and rising on the toes in such a way as to communicate an undulating motion to the whole ring as it goes round. Pistols would be fired every few minutes over the heads of the dancers, and mock onsets made upon the circle by mounted hors.e.m.e.n, who would be driven back in turn by parties armed with branches of trees and making the air ring with their shouts.

There would also be the usual horse-racing, wrestling, and running, besides the entertainment of the feast itself, which would be served by waiters on horseback as well as on foot, and who together would keep up a brisk circulation of tables and trenchers.

When finally the marriage day arrives, all dues under the matrimonial compact having been paid or satisfactorily secured, the couple are joined together with still more feasting and the observance of additional ceremonies. A friend of the bridegroom mounting on horseback and taking on his crupper the maiden decked out in all her finery, and covered with a long white veil, gallops off with her to the house of some relative where the wedding is to be celebrated. Received at the door by the matron of the house, she is conducted with grave formality to the chamber set apart for her reception, where she awaits the arrival of her lord, and lights the nuptial torch of pine sticks in order to keep away any supernatural enemy who might be tempted to run off with her at this very nick of time.

An elderly dame also now performs the mystic ceremony of walking three times around the bridal couch, repeating the while the words of some Arabic charm, and afterwards placing by the bedside three earthen-ware pots filled with corn, and containing each a lighted lamp.

At last the hour of midnight arrived, the impatient bridegroom springing into his saddle gallops to the house of his friend, and conducted into the presence of his bride instantly rips open her corset with his poniard. This is the conclusion of the ceremony by which is rather cut than tied the Circa.s.sian knot of matrimony, there being neither priest nor magistrate employed to fasten it any more securely.

XVIII.

MAIDS.

The bride of Schamyl must have been unlike her countrywomen generally, if she was not handsome. For the Circa.s.sian females have long been famed for their beauty, not only being in demand for the supply of the Turkish harems, but having formerly been sought in marriage by the Hungarian kings and the czars of Muscovy, as well as by the Byzantine princes and the pashas of Stamboul. They are described by travellers as of good height having slight and pliant forms like the birch among trees, with complexion either fair or olive, the old Greek cast of features, and eyes and hair generally dark, though some writers in describing them sing also of

The eyes' blue dalliance, And the golden hair.

On their heads the girls wear a bonnet not unlike the Albanian skullcap, of scarlet or some other brilliant color, and trimmed with lace of silver. Beneath this their hair falls down their shoulders in braids which are confined at the end by a silver cord, or are tied like the tresses of the Cossack girls with bright ribbons that nearly sweep the ground. Sometimes also these plaits are gracefully confined in a silken network.

Over the s.h.i.+ft is worn a jacket of some gay color and confined in front by silver clasps; or it may be simply a leathern corselet joined together by st.i.tches. In either case the waist is incased as it were in a straight jacket, which being put on at the age of ten or even younger, and worn constantly until the marriage night, restrains the fulness of nature throughout the period of maidenhood. A skirt open in front and confined around the waist by a scarf or girdle, falls sufficiently short of the ankles to show the wide Turkish trowsers which are tied above them.

Closely fitting morocco slippers cover the feet, which being kept as scrupulously clean as those of the Hindoo women, if not like theirs ornamented with rings, are indoors frequently left bare; while out of the house a kind of wooden clogs are worn to avoid the dirt. The slippers are sufficiently coquettish, being made of red or green morocco, and of a size to admit the foot only in part, with small high heels, and dainty, pointed toes slightly turned up.

The hands, which as well as the feet are small, have the finger nails dyed with the juice of the flowers of the balsamina, and are protected in the open air by mittens. The natural colors of the face, however, are generally not heightened by the pencil, although the Circa.s.sian fair are partial to the brightest tints in their apparel, being thereto invited by the gorgeous lights of a landscape filled with a mult.i.tude of flowers and in which the very rocks and snows burn morning and evening with hues scarcely less brilliant and variegated.

The daughters of families a little elevated above the general social level, go to school in the mosques together with the boys, and are taught like them to speak and write the Turkish. At home all are instructed in the feminine arts of spinning and weaving, as well as in embroidery, the knitting of lace, the making of all articles of dress, and also the plaiting of straw mats and baskets. They often serve the guests of the master of the house, bringing water to wash the feet of the newly arrived, though not like the Mary of the Scriptures anointing them with frankincense and wiping them with the hair of the head. The aged men being like the stranger universally honored in Circa.s.sia, receive from the young maidens the most dutiful attentions; and it is always their privilege to sit by the couch of the veterans brought home wounded from the wars. The one are petted throughout their second childhood with frequent presents of sweetmeats and baskets of nuts; and the other feel their pains abated while the hands of the most beautiful of the tribe softly comb the tuft of hair left growing above their brows. But in return, these too are treated by the other s.e.x with corresponding courtesy; for every warrior is a gallant knight, ever ready, going and returning from the foray, to give his escort to the damsel wis.h.i.+ng to pa.s.s from hamlet to hamlet, and gracefully lifting her upon his c.r.a.pper whenever by chance he meets her on foot in the valleys.