Travels in Central Asia / Being the Account of a Journey from Teheran Across the Turkoman Desert on the Eastern Shore of the Caspian to Khiva, Bokhara, and Samarcand

[The Worm (Rishte)]

During the whole time of my stay in Bokhara, the weather was insupportably hot; but another circumstance doubled my sufferings--the apprehension of the Rishte (filaria Medinensis), by which, during the season, one person in every ten is attacked. This obliged me to be continually drinking warm water or tea. This affection is quite usual, and is treated with as much indifference by those residing in Bokhara during the summer season, as colds are with us. One feels, at first, on the foot or on some other part of the body, a tickling sensation, then a spot becomes visible whence issues a worm like a thread. This is often an ell long, and it ought some days after to be carefully wound off on a reel. This is the common treatment, and occasions no extraordinary pain; but if the worm is broken off, an inflammation ensues, and instead of one, from six to ten make their appearance, which forces the patient to keep his bed a week, subjecting him to intense suffering. The more courageous have the Rishte cut out at the very beginning. The barbers in Bokhara are tolerably expert in this operation. The part where the tickling sensation takes place is in an instant removed, the worm extracted, and the wound itself soon heals. Sometimes this malady, which is also common in Bender Abbasi (Persia), recurs in the following summer, and that too, even when the patient is in a different climate. It happened so with Dr. Wolff, the well-known traveller, who dragged with him all the way from Bokhara one of these long memorials of his journey. It did not show itself till he came to England, when it was extracted, in Eastern fashion, {183} by the late Sir Benjamin Brodie. Besides this affliction, the Bokhariots exhibit many malignant sores, occasioned by their bad climate and still worse water. It is more especially remarked that the women, who would otherwise pass for not unattractive brunettes, are thus quite disfigured with scars, perhaps to be remotely referred to their sedentary habits.

[Water Supply]

Bokhara derives its water from the Zerefshan (distributor of gold), whose course is north-easterly. Its channel is lower than the city itself, and even in summer affords but a scanty supply. The water flows through a canal, deep enough, but not maintained in a state of cleanliness. It is permitted to enter the city at the gate Dervaze Mezar once in intervals of from every eight to fourteen days, according as the height of the river may allow. The appearance of the water, tolerably dirty even when it first enters, is always a joyful occurrence for the inhabitants. Then first the inhabitants, young and old, precipitate themselves into the canals and reservoirs to make their ablutions; afterwards the horses, cows, and asses come to take their baths; and when the dogs finally have cooled themselves there a little, all entrance is forbidden, the water is left to settle, become clear and pure. It has, it is true, absorbed thousands of elements of miasma and filthiness! Such is the attention that Bokhara, the noble, pays to this indispensable necessary of life--Bokhara, whither flock thousands of scholars to learn the principles of a religion that consecrates the principle that 'Cleanliness is derived from Religion.' [Footnote 53]

[Footnote 53: 'El nezafet min el iman.']

[Late and present Emirs; Harem, Government, Family of Reigning Emir.]

It is impossible for me to forget Bokhara, were it only on account of the efforts with respect to religion which I have noticed there both on the part of Government and people. I often heard it affirmed that 'Bokhara is the true support of Islam.' [Footnote 54] The title is too weak; it should be rather termed the 'Rome of Islam,' since Mecca and Medina are its Jerusalem. Bokhara is aware of her superiority, and plumes herself upon it in the face of all the other nations of Islam; yes, even before the Sultan himself, who is yet acknowledged as the official chief of religion; but he is not so readily pardoned for having suffered so much to be corrupted in his territories by the influence of the Frenghis. In my supposed character of Osmanli, I was called upon to explain fully:

[Footnote 54: 'Bokhara kuvveti islam ü din est.' ]

First. Why the Sultan does not put to death all the Frenghis who live in his dominions, and yet pay no Djizie (tribute); why he does not every year undertake a Djihad (religious war), as he has unbelievers on all his frontiers.

Secondly. Why the Osmanlis, who are Sunnites, and belong to the sect of the Ebuhanife, do not wear the turban, nor the long garments prescribed by the law and reaching to the ancles; why they have not a long beard and short moustachios, like 'the glory of all mundane creatures,' as the Prophet is styled.

Thirdly, why the Sunnites, both in Constantinople and Mecca, sing the Ezan (call to prayer) when they utter it, which is a frightful sin; why they are not all Hadjis there, as they dwell so nigh the holy places; &c. &c.

I did my utmost to save the religious honour of the honest Osmanlis, and if I was obliged occasionally to pronounce, with a blush on my cheek, the 'Pater, {185} peccavi,' I could not but internally felicitate the Turks on retaining, in spite of their being under the influence of a corrupt Islamism, many good qualities and fine traits of character, whereas their fellow-religionists, who boast that they are refreshing themselves at the very fountain of the pure faith, delight in nothing but the blackest mendacity, in hypocrisy, and in impositions. How often was I forced to witness one of the Khalka (circle) which devotees form by squatting down close to each other in a ring, to devote themselves to the Tevedjüh (contemplation), or, as the western Mahomedans call it, the Murakebe of the greatness of God, the glory of the Prophet, and the futility of our mortal existence! If you, a stranger, behold these people, with their immense turbans, and their arms hanging down folded upon their laps, sitting in their cramped position, you could not help believing them to be beings of a purer, loftier nature, who seek to cast from them the burden of clay, and adopt the full spirit of the Arabian saying--

'The world is an abomination, and those who toil about it are dogs.' [Footnote 55]

[Footnote 55: 'Ed dünya djifetun ve talibeha kilab.']

Look only more attentively, and you will not fail to perceive that many have, from deep reflection, fallen into deeper slumber; and although they begin to snore, like hounds after a hard day's hunting, beware how you breathe any reproach, or the Bokhariot will soon set you right with the observation, 'These men have made such progress, that even whilst they snore they are thinking of God and of immortality!' In Bokhara only the external form of the thing is required. {186} Each city has its Reïs, [Footnote 56] who, with a cat-o'-four-tails in his hand, traverses the streets and public places, examines each passer by in the principles of Islamism, and sends the ignorant, even if they be grey-bearded men of threescore years, for periods varying from eight to fourteen days, to the boys' school; or he drives them into the mosques at the hour of prayer. But whether, in the former case, they learn anything in school, or go to sleep there--whether, in the latter, they pray in the mosque, or are thinking how their daily occupations have been cut short,--all this is the affair of nobody whatever. The Government insists upon nothing but the external appearance; what lies within is known to God alone.

[Footnote 56: Guardian of religion.]

What need to insist that the spirit in which religion is administered has a powerful influence upon both Government and society? The Iranian blood of the inhabitants (for two-thirds of the inhabitants of the city of Bokhara are Persians, Mervi, and Tadjiks), gives a little semblance of vitality to the bazaars and public places; but what dreariness and monotony in the private houses! Every trace of gladness and cheerfulness is banished from those circles where the influence of religion and the system of surveillance are so tyrannically felt. The Emir's spies force their way even into the sanctuaries of families, and woe to the man who permits himself to offend against the forms of religion or the authority of the sovereign. Ages of oppression have now so intimidated the people that husband and wife, even with no third person present, do not dare to pronounce the Emir's name without adding the words, 'God grant him to live 120 years!' It must be also admitted that the poor people feel no sentiment of hatred for their ruler, because tyrannical caprice does not seem to them as a {187} thing to be wondered at, but is rather looked upon in the light of an inevitable attribute of princely dignity. Emir Nasr Ullah, the father of the present ruler of Bokhara, was, in the last years of his life, a cruel profligate, who visited with capital punishment immorality in others, and yet himself violated, in the most shameless manner, the honour of his subjects. Few were the families who escaped unscathed; and still no one permitted even a breath of blame to escape his lips. The reigning Emir, Mozaffar-ed-din Khan, happily, is a well-disposed man; and although he enforces with severity the laws respecting religion and morals, he cannot be charged himself with any crime; hence the unceasing praises and glorifications of which he is the object on the part of his people.

I saw the Emir afterwards in Samarcand; he is in the forty-second year of his age, of middle stature, somewhat corpulent. He has a very pleasing countenance, fine black eyes, and a thin beard. In his youth he acted as governor one year in Karshi, and eighteen in Kermineh, and was always distinguished for the gentleness and affability of his manners. He carries out strictly the political principles of his father, and in his capacity as Mollah and pious Musselman is the declared enemy of every innovation even when he may be convinced of its utility. On his accession he had impressed upon his signet the device

'Government by justice,' [Footnote 57]

and up to the present moment has most scrupulously observed it. Many reports in circulation respecting him confirm the remark. True, according to our view of things, there seems great exaggeration in {188} a system of justice which led the Emir to send his Mehter, the second in rank of his officers, to execution, for having (for it was in this form that the report reached Khokand) thrown a dubious glance at one of the royal slaves; nor should a prince, whose device is 'justice,' have conducted himself as the Emir did in Khokand. But all these faults are very pardonable in a Khan of Bokhara. Towards his grandees, who for the most part well merit the treatment they meet with, he is very severe, for although punishing with death even trivial offences in these, he spares the poorer classes. Hence the expression applied to him by the people, and which does him honour, for they say of him that he is 'killer of elephants and protector of mice.' [Footnote 58]

[Footnote 57: 'El Hükm bil Adl.']

[Footnote 58: Filkush and Mushperver.]

It is singular what pains the Emir takes to throw obstacles in the way of his subjects whenever they seek to depart from the simplicity and modesty of their present, in his opinion, happy condition. The introduction of articles of luxury, or other expensive merchandise, is forbidden, as also the employment of sumptuousness in house or dress: in offences of this description there is no respect of persons. His Serdari Kul (commandant-in-chief), Shahrukh Khan, sprung from a collateral branch of the royal family of Persia (Kadjar), having fled hither from Astrabad, where he had been governor, had been long held here in high honour and distinction; but, desirous of living in the Persian manner, he ordered, at great expense, a house to be erected one story high, like those in Teheran; in this, besides other articles of luxury, glass windows were inserted; it is said to have cost altogether 15,000 Tilla, regarded {189} in Bokhara an enormous sum; it was of a description calculated to throw into the shade even the Ark (palace) itself. The Emir had been informed of this from the very beginning, but he waited until the whole was quite finished, and then suddenly Shahrukh Khan was accused of an offence against religion, thrown into confinement, and then exiled. The house was confiscated and reverted to the Emir: an offer was made to purchase it, and at a sum exceeding the cost price, but no! he directed it to be demolished; the ruins themselves, however, appearing too ornamental, he ordered them to be entirely destroyed, with the sole reservation of the timber, which was sold to a baker for 200 Tilla, in scorn and mockery of all who should venture to give way to a taste for luxuries. Even in his domestic arrangements the Emir is widely different from his father; and it did not appear to me that there could have been more than half the retinue of servants which M. de Khanikoff saw at the Court of Nasr Ullah, and of which, as of so many other particulars concerning Bokhara, the Russian traveller gives so careful, so exact and circumstantial an account.

Mozaffar-ed-din Khan has (for it is a custom of his religion) four legitimate wives and about twenty others, the former natives of Bokhara, the latter slaves, and, as I was told seriously, only employed to tend upon the children, of whom there are sixteen, ten girls (but I beg pardon, princesses), and six boys (Tore). The two eldest princesses are married to the governors of Serepool and Aktche; only, as these two cities have fallen into the hands of the Afghan, his two sons-in-law live as the Emir's guests, like kings sans portefeuilles. The harem is presided over by the sovereign's mother, formerly a {190} Persian slave (born at Kademgihah, near Meshed), and by his grandmother, Hakim Ayim. It bears a high character for chastity and orderly training. It is forbidden to the laity on pain of death to enter, or even to throw a glance or direct a thought thither: this is permitted alone to pious Sheikhs or Mollahs, whose Nefes (breath) is of notorious sanctity; and it was by this title that our friend Hadji Salih was summoned to administer a dose of the Khaki Shifa (health powder from Medina). The cost of the harem, as far as dress, board, and other necessaries are concerned, is very small. The ladies make not only their own clothes, but often even the garments of the Emir, who is known to be a strict economist, and to exercise severe control over everything. The daily kitchen expenses of the palace are said to be from sixteen to twenty Tenghe (rather more than from nine to ten shillings), which is very likely, as his table rarely offers any confectionery, and consists merely of pilow boiled with mutton fat. The expression 'princely table' is inapplicable to Bokhara, where one and the same dish satisfies prince, official, merchant, mechanic, and peasant.

The man that has wandered about through the deserts of Central Asia will still find in Bokhara, in spite of all its wretchedness, something of the nature of a metropolis. My fare now consisted of good bread, tea, fruit, and boiled meats. I had two shirts made, and the comforts of civilised life became to me so agreeable that I was really sorry when I received notice from my friends to prepare for the journey, as they wished to gain their remote Eastern homes before the winter set in. My intention was to keep them company provisionally as far as Samarcand, {191} as I somewhat dreaded my interview with the Emir, and their society in many respects would be of great service to me. I was to decide in the last-named city whether to proceed to Khokand and Kashgar, or to return alone by Kerki, Karshi, and Herat. My excellent friends, Hadji Bilal and Hadji Salih, did not wish to influence me, but to provide for the case of a possible return. Desirous as far as they could to aid me, they had introduced me to a Kervanbashi from Herat, who was staying in Bokhara, and thought of finally returning in three weeks to the former city. His name was Mollah Zeman: he had been formerly known to my friends. They recommended me to his care, as if I had been their own brother, and it was determined, if I returned from Samarcand, that we should meet three weeks afterwards in Kerki, on the farther bank of the Oxus. This, the first step suggestive of a final separation, was very affecting to us all. Hitherto I had found consolation in the very uncertainty of my purpose; for to my fancy an extension of my travels to Kashgar, Aksu, and Khoten, rich in musk--countries to which no European before me had penetrated--had infinite charm and poetical attraction.

[Slave Depot and Trade]

But my thoughts have been so engaged by the memory of this visit to Mollah Zeman, that I was about to forget to describe the spot where I found him. It was in a karavanserai appropriated to the trade in slaves. Of this I cannot forbear to give the reader a slight sketch. The building, which formed a square, contained, it may be, from thirty to thirty-five cells. Three wholesale dealers in this abominable traffic had hired these buildings as a depôt for the poor wretches, who were partly their own goods and {192} chattels, and partly entrusted to them as commission brokers for the Turkomans. As is well known, the Karaktchi, unable to wait long, are accustomed to sell their slaves to some Turkoman who has more means at his disposal. The latter brings them to Bokhara, and is the chief gainer by these transactions, as he buys immediately from the producer. In the very first days of his arrival in the capital, he sells all those for whom he can find customers; the remainder he leaves behind him in the hands of the Dellal (broker), who is more especially the wholesale dealer. Human beings are sold in Bokhara and Khiva from the age of three to that of sixty, unless they possess such defects as cause them to be regarded as cripples. According to the precepts of their religion, unbelievers alone can be sold as slaves; but Bokhara, that has nothing more than the semblance of sanctity, evades without scruple such provisions, and makes slaves not only of the Shiite Persians, who were declared 'unbelievers' so long ago as 1500 by the Mollah Schemseddin, but also many professors of the Sunnite tenets themselves, after they have, by blows and maltreatment, been compelled to style themselves Shiites. It is only the Jew, whom they pronounce to be incapable, that is unworthy of becoming a slave, a mode of showing their aversion, of course, anything but disagreeable to the children of Israel, for although the Turkoman will make booty of his property, and strip him of everything, he will not touch his body. At an earlier period, the Hindoos also formed an exception. More recently, as they flocked by Herat into Bokhara, the Tekke or Sarik began to lay down new rules for their procedure. The unfortunate worshipper of Vishnoo is now first metamorphosed {193} into a Musselman, then made a Shiite; and not until this double conversion has taken place is the honour conferred upon him of being plundered of all his property, and being reduced to the condition of a slave.

The slave exposed to sale is, when a male, made the subject of public examination: the seller is obliged to guarantee that he has none of those moral or bodily defects, which constitute to his knowledge latent unsoundness: that is to say, where, though they are not discernible to the eye, they exist in a rudimentary state.

To the slave himself, the happiest hour is when he passes out of the hand of the slave-dealer; for no treatment, however hard, which awaits him with his eventual master can be so oppressive and painful as that which he has to pass through whilst he remains an article of commerce exposed for sale in the shop.

The price varies with the political circumstances of the Turkomans, according as they find (for upon such does the production of the article depend) greater or less facility for their Alaman in the adjoining district. For instance: at the present day the highest price of a man in the maturity of his strength is from 40 to 50 Tilla (about from £21-£36); after a victory, when 18,000 Persian soldiers had been made prisoners at one time, a man was to be had for a sum of 3 or 4 Tillas.

[Departure from Bokhara, and Visit to the Tomb of Baha-ed-din.]

After having stayed twenty-two days in Bokhara I found it impossible any longer to delay my friends, and it was arranged that we should at once start for Samarcand. Our living in Bokhara, as no one here, however liberal with his shakings of the hand, gave us a single farthing, had very much impaired our {194} finances. What we had been able to make in Khiva was all exhausted, and, like many of my companions, I had been forced to dispose of my ass, and henceforth our journey was to be continued in a hired two-wheeled cart. Particular members of our karavan, who belonged to Khokand or Khodjend, had already parted from us, and gone their own several ways alone. Those who had hitherto remained together were natives of Endighan or Chinese Tartars. These, however, in proceeding to Samarcand, selected different routes. Hadji Salih, Hadji Bilal's party, and myself determined upon following the straight road; the others, who were on foot, were anxious to undertake a pilgrimage, by way of Gidjdovan, to the tomb of the Saint Abdul Khalik. [Footnote 59]

[Footnote 59: Khodja Abdul Khalik (named Gidjovani, died 1601) was contemporary with the famous Payende Zamini, and stands in high repute for learning, asceticism, and sanctity.]

Many Bokhariots, on my return, intimated a wish to accompany me to Mecca. I, therefore, was obliged to employ much delicate diplomacy, for certainly their company would have been a source of great embarrassment in either case, whether we found ourselves before the Kaaba or on the banks of the Thames!

I took leave of all my friends and acquaintances. Rahmet Bi gave me letters of introduction for Samarcand, and I promised to wait upon the Emir there. The Khokand vehicle, which we had hired to convey us as far as Samarcand, had been previously sent on to wait for us at the village Baveddin, to which place of pilgrimage we had now, according to the custom of the country, to pay our second visit--our visit of adieu. This village is distant two leagues from Bokhara, and is, as before said, the place of {195} interment of the renowned Baha-ed-din Nakishbend, founder of the order bearing the same name, and the chief fountain of all those extravagances of religion which distinguish Eastern from Western Islamism. Without entering into more details, suffice it to mention, that Baha-ed-din is venerated as the national saint of Turkestan, as a second Mohammed; and the Bokhariot is firmly persuaded that the cry alone of a 'Baha-ed-din belagerdan' [Footnote 60] is sufficient to save from all misfortune. Pilgrimages are made to this place even from the most remote parts of China. It is the practice in Bokhara to come hither every week, and the intercourse is maintained with the metropolis by means of about 300 asses that ply for hire. These stand before the Dervaze Mezar, and may be had for a few Pul (small copper coins). Although the road, in many places, passes over deep sand, these animals run with indescribable speed on their journey to the village; but, what is considered very surprising, they cannot, without repeated blows, be induced to return. The Bokhariot ascribes this circumstance to the feeling of devotion that the saint inspires even in brutes; for do they not run to his tomb, and evince the greatest indisposition to quit it?

[Footnote 60: 'O Baha-ed-din, thou avevter of evil!']

The tomb is in a small garden. On one side is a mosque. This may be approached through a court filled with blind or crippled mendicants, the perseverance of whose applications would put to shame those of the same profession in Rome or Naples. In the front of the tomb is the famous Senghi murad (stone of desire), which has been tolerably ground away and made smooth by the numerous foreheads of pious pilgrims that have been rubbed upon it. Over {196} the tomb are placed several rams' horns and a banner, also a broom that served a long time to sweep out the sanctuary in Mecca. Attempts have also been made upon several occasions to cover the whole with a dome, but Baha-ed-din, like many other saints in Turkestan, has a preference for the open air, and every edifice has been thrown down after a lapse of three days from its first erection. Such is the tale told by the Sheikhs, descendants of the saint, who keep watch in turn before the tomb, and recount, with impudence enough, to the pilgrims that their ancestor was particularly fond of the number seven. In the seventh month he came into the world, in his seventh year he knew the Koran by heart, and in his seventieth he died. Hence also the contributions and gifts laid upon his grave are to have the peculiarity that they must not be anything else than multiples of seven or the number seven itself.

A quarter of a league from the tomb of Baha-ed-din, in an open field, is that of Miri Kulah, the master and spiritual chief of the former. But the master is far from enjoying the same honour and repute as the disciple.

CHAPTER XI.

Hinc quarto die ad Maracanda perventum est . . . Scythiae confinis est regio, habitaturque pluribus ac frequentibits vicis, quia ubertas terra non indigenas modo detinet, sed etiam advenas invitat.--Q. Curtii Rufi libb. vii. et viii.

[Bokhara to Samarcand]

Our whole karavan had now, on starting from Bokhara for Samarcand, dwindled down to two carts. In one of these sat Hadji Salih and myself; in the other, Hadji Bilal and his party. Sheltered from the sun by a matting awning, I should have been glad to settle myself quietly on my carpet, but this was impossible, owing to the violent motion of our very primitive vehicle; it disposed of us 'at its own sweet will,' shaking us, now here, now there; our heads were continually cannoning each other like balls {198} on a billiard table. During the first few hours I felt quite sea-sick, having suffered much more than I had done when on the camels, the shiplike movements of which I had formerly so much dreaded. The poor horse, harnessed to the broad heavy cart, besides having to make the clumsy wheels--far from perfect circles--revolve laboriously through the deep sand or mud, was obliged also to convey the driver and his provision sack. The Turkoman is right in doubting whether the Bokhariot will ever be able to justify in another world his maltreatment of the horse--the noblest of the brute creation.

As it was night when we started from Baha-ed-din, the driver (a native of Khokand), not sufficiently familiar with the road, mistook the way, so that, instead of midnight, it was morning before we reached the little town of Mezar. It is distant from Bokhara five Tash (fersakh), and is regarded as the first station on the road to Samarcand. We halted here but a short time, and about noon arrived at sheikh Kasim, where we encountered some of our brother pilgrims. They were taking the road by Gidjdovan. We consequently indulged ourselves by remaining there quietly together until late at night.

[Little Desert of Chöl Melik]

I had heard many wonderful accounts of the flourishing cultivation of the country between Bokhara and Samarcand, but thus far I had seen nothing astonishing during our day's journey, nothing at all corresponding to my high-wrought expectations. We perceived, indeed, everywhere, and on both sides of the road, with rare exceptions, the land under cultivation; the following day, however, a real surprise awaited me. We had passed the little desert of Chöl Melik (six leagues in length by four in {199} breadth), where there are a karavanserai and water reservoir, and at last reached the district of Kermineh, which constitutes the third day's station. We now passed every hour, sometimes every half-hour, a small Bazarli Djay (market-place), where there were several inns and houses for the sale of provisions, and where gigantic Russian teakettles, ever on the boil, are held to be the ne plus ultra of refinement and of comfort. These villages have quite a different character from those in Persia and Turkey, the farm-yards are better filled with earth's blessings; and were there only more trees, we might say that all the way from the Pontos Mountains this is the only country resembling our own in the far West. About mid-day we halted at Kermineh, in a lovely garden, on the side of a reservoir, where we found abundant shade. My friends seemed to endear themselves to me more and more the nearer the moment of our separation approached; it appeared impossible that I was to journey alone that long way back from Samarcand to Europe! We started from Kermineh about sunset, considering that the freshness of the night would lighten, in some respects, the torments of our overtasked horse; at midnight we halted again for two hours, as we hoped to reach our station the next morning, before the heat of the day commenced. I remarked in many places along the road square mile-stones, some entire, others broken, [Footnote 61] which owe their erection to Timour; nor need this surprise us, for Marco Polo, in the time of Oktai, found regular post-roads in Central Asia. The whole way from Bokhara to Kashgar is said, indeed, {200} still to bear marks of an ancient civilisation which, although with frequent intervals, is nevertheless traceable far into China. The present Emir, also wishing to distinguish himself, has caused in several places small terraces to be raised for purposes of prayer, these serving as a sort of occasional mosques, and mementos to passers-by to fulfil their religious duties. So each age has its own peculiar objects in view!

[Footnote 61: The Turkish word for stone is Tash, which is also used to denote mile. So the Persian word Fersang (in modern Persian fersakh) is compounded of fer (high) and seng (stone).]

[Animation of Road owing to War]

The evening we passed at the village Mir, taking up our quarters there in the mosque. This rises from the centre of a pretty flower garden. I lay down to sleep near a reservoir, but was startled out of my slumber by a troop of quarrelsome Turkomans. They were the Tekke horsemen who had served the Emir as auxiliaries in his campaign against Khokand, and were now returning to Merv with the booty they had taken from the Kirghis. The Emir, in his anxiety to civilise them, had presented many with a white turban, and hoped that they would throw aside altogether their wild fur caps. They wore them as long as they were under the eye of the Emir, but I heard that they had subsequently sold them all.

From Mir we proceeded to the Kette Kurgan ('great fortress'). It is the seat of a Government, and has the most famous shoemakers in the whole Khanat. This fortress is defended by a strong wall and deep fosse. By night no one is permitted either to pass in or out; we therefore remained in a karavanserai, on the road outside the fort. There were wagons everywhere; the roads, indeed, in all directions presented a bustling and singularly animated appearance: this was to be ascribed to the war, that employs all conveyances between Bokhara and Khokand, From Kette Kurgan a distinct way leads through the desert {201} to Karshi, and is said to be four leagues shorter than the usual one thither from Samarcand; but travellers are obliged to take their water with them, as there are very few wells that human beings can use, although there are several fit for cattle. I found the drivers and peasants discussing political subjects before the tea-shops, the prohibitions here not being enforced as in Bokhara. The poor people are enchanted when they hear of the heroic acts of their Emir; they recount that he has already forced his way from Khokand into China, and after he has there in the East reduced all under his sceptre, he will, they insist, proceed to take possession of Iran, Afghanistan, India, and Frenghistan (these they consider as adjoining counties), as far as Roum: the whole world, in fact, is, according to them, to be divided between the Sultan and the Emir!

After having left behind me Karasu, which is a place of some importance, we reached Daul, the fifth station, and the last before coming to Samarcand itself. Our road passed over some hills from which we could perceive extensive woods stretching away on our left. I was told that they reach half-way to Bokhara, and serve as retreats to the Özbeg tribes, Khitai and Kiptchak, which are often at enmity with the Emir. Being familiar with all the secret corners and recesses of their own forests, they are not easily assailable.

[First View of Samarcand]

What I heard in Bokhara had very much diminished in my eyes the historical importance of Samarcand. I cannot, however, describe my feeling of curiosity when they pointed out to me, on the east, Mount Chobanata, at whose foot was situate, I was told, the Mecca I so longed to see. I therefore gazed intently in the direction indicated, and at last, on toiling up {202} a hill, I beheld the city of Timour in the middle of a fine country. I must confess that the first impression produced by the domes and minarets, with their various colours, all bathed in the beams of the morning sun--the peculiarity, in short, of the whole scene--was very pleasing.

As Samarcand, both by the charm of its past and its remoteness, is regarded in Europe as something extraordinary, we will, as we cannot make use of the pencil, endeavour to draw a view of the city with the pen. I must beg the reader to take a seat in the cart by my side; he will then see to the east the mountain I before mentioned. Its dome-like summit is crowned by a small edifice, in which rests Chobanata (the holy patron of shepherds). Below lies the city. Although it equals Teheran in circumference, its houses do not lie so close together; still the prominent buildings and ruins offer a far more magnificent prospect. The eye is most struck by four lofty edifices, in the form of half domes, the fore-fronts or frontispieces of the Medresse (Pishtak). They seemed all to be near together; but some, in fact, are in the background. As we advance we perceive first a small neat dome, and further on to the south a larger and more imposing one; the former is the tomb, the latter the mosque, of Timour. Quite facing us, on the south-westerly limit of the city, on a hill, rises the citadel (Ark), round which other buildings, partly mosques and partly tombs, are grouped. If we then suppose the whole intermixed with closely planted gardens, we shall have a faint idea of Samarcand--a faint one; for I say with the Persian proverb--

'When will hearing be like seeing?' [Footnote 62]

[Footnote 62: 'Shuniden keï buved manendi diden.']

But, alas! why need I add that the impression produced by its exterior was weakened as we approached, and entirely dissipated by our entry into the place itself? Bitter indeed the disappointment in the case of a city like Samarcand, so difficult of access, and a knowledge of which has to be so dearly acquired; and when we drove in through the Dervaze Bokhara, and had to pass through the greater part of the cemetery to reach the inhabited part of the town, I thought of the Persian verse--

'Samarcand is the focus of the whole globe.' [Footnote 63]

[Footnote 63: 'Samarkand seïkeli rui zemin est.' ]

In spite of all my enthusiasm, I burst out into a loud fit of laughter. We first proceeded to a karavanserai, on the side of the bazaar, where Hadjis have quarters awarded to them gratuitously; but the very same evening we were invited to a private house situate beyond the bazaar, near the tomb of Timour, and what was my joy and surprise when I learnt that our host fortunately was an officer of the Emir, and entrusted with the surveillance of the palace in Samarcand!

As the return of the Emir from Khokand, where he had just terminated a victorious campaign, was announced to take place in a few days, my companions decided to wait in Samarcand, on my account, till I had seen the Emir, and until I found other Hadjis passing whose company I could join on my return journey. In the interval I passed my time visiting all that was worth seeing in the city; for in spite of its miserable appearance, it is in this respect the richest in all Central Asia.

In my character as Hadji I naturally began with the saints; but as all, even what is historically interesting, is intimately blended with some holy legend, I felt it a very agreeable duty to see everything.

[Haszreti Shah Zinde]

They enumerate here several hundred places of pilgrimage; but we will only particularise the more remarkable:--

Hazreti Shah Zinde (Summer Palace of Timour) .

The proper name is Kasim bin Abbas. He is said to have been a Koreïshite, and consequently stands here in the highest repute, as the chief of those Arabs who introduced Islamism into Samarcand. His sepulchre lies without the city, to the north-west, near the wall and the edifice that served the great Timour as a summer residence. The latter has retained even to the present day much of its ancient splendour and luxury. All these structures are situate upon elevated ground, and are approached by an ascent of forty tolerably broad marble steps. On reaching the summit, one is conducted to a building lying at the end of a small garden. Here several little corridors lead to a large apartment, from which, by a small gloomy path, you arrive at the equally gloomy tomb of the saint. Besides the room above mentioned, there are others whose coloured bricks and mosaic pavement produce as brilliant an effect as if they were the work of yesterday.

Each different room that we entered had to be saluted with two Rikaat Namaz. My knees began to ache, when they led me on into a room paved with marble. Three flags, an old sword, and breastplate, were presented to be kissed as relics of the renowned {205} Emir. This act of homage I did not decline any more than my companions, although I entertained great doubt whether the objects themselves are authentic. I heard also of a sword, breastplate, Koran, and other relics of the saint, but I could not get sight of them. Opposite to this edifice, the reigning Emir has erected a small Medresse, which looks like the stable of a palace.

[Mosque of Timour]

Mesdjidi Timour (The Mosque of Timour).

This mosque is situate on the south side of the city: in size, and painted brick decorations, it has much resemblance to the Mesdjidi Shah, in Ispahan, which was built by order of Abbas II. The dome differs, however; it is in the form of a melon, which is never the case in Persia. The inscriptions from the Koran, in gold Sulus lettering, next to those at the ruins of Sultanieh, are the finest I ever saw.

[Citadel (Ark)]

Ark (Citadel--Reception Hall of Timour) .

The ascent to the Ark is tolerably steep; it is divided into two parts, of which the outer is composed of private dwellings, whereas the other is only used for the reception of the Emir.

[Reception Hall of Timour; Köktash or Timour's Throne Singular Footstool.]

The palace had been described to me as extremely curious; it is, however, a very ordinary edifice, and is scarcely a century old, and I confess I found nothing remarkable in it. First they showed me the apartments of the Emir: amongst these the Aynekhane, which is a room composed of fragments of looking-glass, passing for a wonder of the world; but to me it had far less interest than the place designated Talari Timour, or 'reception-hall of Timour.' This is a {206} long narrow court, having round it a covered foot-pavement or cloister. The side that fronts you contains the celebrated Köktash (green stone), upon which Timour caused his throne to be placed: to it flocked vassals from all parts of the world to do homage, and were ranged there according to their rank; whilst in the central space, that resembled an arena, three heralds sat ready mounted to convey, on the instant, the words of the conqueror of the world to the farthest end of the hall. As the green stone is four feet and a half high, some prisoner of illustrious birth was always forced to serve as a footstool. It is singular that, according to the tradition, this colossal stone (ten feet long, four broad, and four and a half high) was transported hither from Broussa. Fixed in the wall to the right of this stone is a prominent oval piece of iron, like half a cocoa-nut; upon it there is an inscription in Arabic, engraved in Kufish letters. It is said to have been brought from the treasury of the Sultan, Bayazid Yildirin, and to have served one of the Khalifs as an amulet. I saw, high above the stone on the wall, two firmans, written in golden Divani letters, one from Sultan Mahmoud, the other from Sultan Abdul Medjid. They were sent to Emir Saïd, and Emir Nasrullah, from Constantinople, and contained both the Rukhsati-Namaz (official permission for the prayer), [Footnote 64] and the investiture in the functions of a Reïs (guardian of religion) which the Emirs formerly made it a point of etiquette to receive. The Emirs, now-a-days, content themselves on their accession with doing homage at the Köktash; and the stone is no longer used but for this purpose, and as a {207} place of pilgrimage for pious Hadjis who say three Fatihas, and rub their heads with peculiar unction upon that monument whence, once, every word uttered by their glorious monarch echoed as a command to the remotest parts of Asia. Timour is spoken of in Samarcand as if the news of his death had only just arrived from Otrar; and the question was put to me, as Osmanli, what my feelings were on approaching the tomb of a sovereign who had inflicted upon 'our' Sultan so terrible a defeat.

[Footnote 64: The Friday prayer, which no Sunnite could or can pronounce until the Khalif or his successor has first done so.]

[Timour's Sepulchre and that of his Preceptor; Author visits the actual Tomb of Timour in the Souterrain]

Turbeti Timour (Timour's Sepulchre) .

This monument lies to the south-west, and consists of a neat chapel, crowned with a splendid dome, and encircled by a wall; in the latter there is a high arched gate, and on both sides are two small domes, miniature representations of the large one first mentioned. The space between the wall and the chapel is filled with trees, and should represent a garden, but great neglect is now apparent there. The entrance into the chapel is on the west, and its front, according to the law, is towards the south (Kible). On entering, one finds oneself in a sort of vestibule, which leads directly into the chapel itself. This is octagonal, and ten short paces in diameter. In the middle, under the dome, that is to say, in the place of honour, there are two tombs, placed lengthwise, with the head in the direction of Mecca. One is covered with a very fine stone of a dark green colour, two and a half spans broad and ten long, and about the thickness of six fingers. It is laid flat, in two pieces, [Footnote 65] over the grave of Timour; the other has a {208} black stone, of about the same length, but somewhat broader. This is the tomb of Mir Seid Berke, the teacher and spiritual chief of Timour, at whose side the mighty Emir gratefully desired to be buried. Round about lie other tombstones, great and small, those of wives, grandsons, and great grandsons of the Emir; but, if I do not err, their bodies were brought thither at a subsequent period from different parts of the city. The inscriptions upon the tombs are in Persian and Arabic, no enumeration of titles is there, and even that of the Emir is very simple. The family name, Köreghen, is never omitted.

[Footnote 65: Different reasons are assigned for this. Some say that the victorious Nadir Shah ordered it to be sent to him, and that it was broken on the journey. Others affirm that it was originally in two pieces, and the present of a Chinese (Mongol) princess.]