BOKHARA

RECEPTION AT THE TEKKIE, THE CHIEF NEST OF ISLAMISM

RAHMET BI

BAZAARS

BAHA-ED-DIN, GREAT SAINT OF TURKESTAN

SPIES SET UPON AUTHOR

FATE OF RECENT TRAVELLERS IN BOKHARA

BOOK BAZAAR

THE WORM (RISHTE)

WATER SUPPLY

LATE AND PRESENT EMIRS

HAREM, GOVERNMENT, FAMILY OF REIGNING EMIR

SLAVE DEPOT AND TRADE

DEPARTURE FROM BOKHARA, AND VISIT TO THE TOMB OF BAHA-ED-DIN.

[Bokhara; Reception at the Tekkie, the Chief Nest of Islamism]

The road led us to the Dervaze Imam, situated to the west, but we did not pass through it, because, as our Tekkie lay to the north-east, we should have been forced to make our way through all the throngs in the bazaar. We preferred, therefore, to take a circuitous route along the city wall. This we found, in many places, in a ruinous state. Entering by the gate called Dervaze Mezar, we speedily reached the spacious Tekkie. It was planted with fine trees, formed a regular square, and had forty-eight cells on the ground floor. {168} The present Khalfa (principal) is grandson of Khalfa HÜsein, renowned for his sanctity, and the Tekkie itself is named after him. The estimation in which his family stands is shown by the fact that his relative, above mentioned, is Imam and Khatib (court priest) of the Emir, an official position which made me not a little proud of my host. Hadji Salih, who was a MÜrid (disciple) of the saint, and was consequently regarded as a member of the family, presented me. The respectable 'Abbot,' a man of gentle demeanour and agreeable exterior, whom his snow-white turban and summer dress of fine silk well became, received me in the warmest manner, and, as I maintained for half-an-hour a conversation couched in tumid and far-fetched language, the good man was overjoyed, and regretted that the Badewlet [Footnote 43] (his Majesty the Emir) was not in Bokhara, that he might immediately present me.

[Footnote 43: Badewlet means properly 'the prosperous one.']

[Rahmet Bi]

He assigned me a cell to myself in the place of honour, that is where I had, as neighbours, on one side a very learned Mollah, and on the other Hadji Salih: this establishment was filled with personages of celebrity. I had fallen, without having remarked it, upon the chief nest of Islamite fanaticism in Bokhara. The locality itself, if I could but accommodate myself to its spirit, might turn out the best and safest guarantee against all suspicions, and save me all disagreeable scenes with the civil authorities. The reporter had returned my arrival as an event of importance; the first officer of the Emir, Rahmet Bi, who during his master's campaign in Khokand commanded in Bokhara, had directed that the Hadjis should, that very day, be questioned concerning me; {169} but in the Tekkie the Emir's orders were inoperative, and so little respect was entertained for the investigation, that no communication at all was made to me on the subject. My good friends replied in the following manner to the doubts of laymen:--'Hadji Reshid is not only a good Musselman, but at the same time a learned Mollah; to have any suspicion of him is a mortal sin.' But, in the meantime, they advised me how I was to act, and it is solely to their counsels and invaluable suggestions that I can ascribe my having entirely escaped mishap in Bokhara; for, not to mention the sad ends of those travellers who preceded me to this city, I have found it a most perilous place, not only for all Europeans, but for every stranger, because the Government has carried the system of espionage to just as high a pitch of perfection as the population has attained pre-eminence in every kind of profligacy and wickedness.

[Bazaars]

I went next morning, accompanied by Hadji Salih and four others of our friends, to view the city and the bazaars; and although the wretchedness of the streets and houses far exceeded that of the meanest habitations in Persian cities, and the dust, a foot deep, gave but an ignoble idea of the 'noble Bokhara,' I was nevertheless astonished when I found myself for the first time in the bazaar, and in the middle of its waving crowd.

These establishments in Bokhara are indeed far from splendid and magnificent, like those of Teheran, Tabris, and Isfahan; but still, by the strange and diversified intermixture of races, dresses, and customs, they present a very striking spectacle to the eye of a stranger. In the moving multitude most bear the type of Iran, and have their heads surmounted by {170} a turban, white or blue--the former colour being distinctive of the gentleman or the Mollah, the latter the appropriate ornament of the merchant, handi-craftsman, and servant. After the Persian it is the Tartar physiognomy that predominates. We meet it in all its degrees, from the Özbeg, amongst whom we find a great intermixture of blood, to the Kirghis, who have preserved all the wildness of their origin. No need to look the latter in the face; his heavy, firm tread suffices alone to distinguish him from the Turani and the Irani. Then imagine that you see in the midst of the throng of the two principal races of Asia some Indians (Multani, as they are here called) and Jews. Both wear a Polish cap, for the sake of distinction, [Footnote 44] and a cord round their loins; the former, with his red mark on his forehead, and his yellow repulsive face, might well serve to scare away crows from rice fields; the latter, with his noble, pre-eminently-handsome features, and his splendid eye, might sit to any of our artists for a model of manly beauty. There were also Turkomans distinguished from all by the superior boldness and fire of their glance, thinking, perhaps, what a rich harvest the scene before them would yield to one of their Alamans. Of Afghans but few are seen. The meaner sort, with their long dirty shirts, and still dirtier hair streaming down, throw a cloth, in Roman fashion, round their shoulders; but this does not prevent their looking like persons who rush for safety from their beds into the streets, when their houses are on fire.

[Footnote 44: Elameti Tefrikie, which according to the provisions of the Koran, every subject, not a Musselman, must wear in order that the salutation 'Selam AleÏkum' (Peace be with you!) may not be thrown away upon him.]{171}

This diversified chaos of Bokhariots, Khivites, Khokandi, Kirghis, Kiptchak, Turkomans, Indians, Jews, and Afghans, is represented in all the principal bazaars; and although everything is in unceasing movement up and down, I am yet unable to detect any trace of the bustling life so strikingly characteristic of the bazaars in Persia.

I kept close to my companions, casting as I passed glances at the booths, which contain, with a few articles from the other countries in Europe, fancy goods and merchandise, more especially of Russian manufacture. These have no particular intrinsic attractions in themselves for a European traveller to this remote city; but they interest him nevertheless, for each piece of calico, each ticket attached to it, identifying the origin with the name of the manufacturer, makes him feel as if he has met a countryman. How my heart beat when I read the words 'Manchester' and 'Birmingham,' and how apprehensive I was of betraying myself by an imprudent exclamation! There are very few large warehouses or wholesale dealers; and in spite of cotton, calico, and fine muslin being sold, not only in the Restei Tchit Furushi (the place where cotton is exposed for sale), which has 284 shops, but also in many other places in the city, I might boldly affirm that my friends 'Hanhart and Company,' in Tabris, dispose alone of as much of the articles above named as the whole city of Bokhara, in spite of the latter being denominated the capital of Central Asia. That department in its bazaar has more interest for the stranger, where he sees spread out before him the products of Asiatic soil and native industry; such, for instance, as that cotton stuff named Aladja, which {172} has narrow stripes of two colours, and a fine texture; different sorts of silken manufactures, from the fine handkerchief of the consistence of the spider's web, to the heavy Atres; but particularly manufactures in leather. These play, indeed, a preeminent part; in this department the skill of the leather-cutter, and still more, that of the shoemaker, deserves commendation. Boots, both for male and female wear, are tolerably well made: the former have high heels, terminating in points about the size of a nail's head; the latter are somewhat thick, but often ornamented with the finest silk.

I had almost forgotten the bazaar and booths where clothes are exposed to tempt the eyes of purchasers. They consist of articles of attire of brilliant bright colours.

The Oriental, only here to be met with in his original purity and peculiarity, is fond of the Tchakhtchukh or rustling tone of the dress. It was always an object of great delight to me to see the seller parading up and down a few paces in the new Tchapan (dress), to ascertain whether it gave out the orthodox tone. All is the produce of home manufacture, and very cheap; consequently it is in the clothes' market of Bokhara that 'believers,' even from remote parts of Tartary, provide themselves with fashionable attire. Even the Kirghis, Kiptchak, and Kalmuks are in the habit of making excursions hither from the desert; and the wild Tartar, with his eyes oblique and chin prominent, laughs for joy when he exchanges his clothes, made of the undressed horse-skins, for a light Yektey (a sort of summer dress), for it is here that he sees his highest ideal of civilisation. Bokhara is his Paris or his London.{173}

After having strolled around for about three hours, I begged my guide and excellent friend, Hadji Salih, to lead me to a place of refreshment, where I might be allowed a little repose. He complied, and conducted me through the Timtche Tchay Furushi (Tea Bazaar) to the renowned place Lebi Hauz Divanbeghi (bank of the reservoir of the Divanbeghi). For Bokhara, I found this a most attractive spot. It is almost a perfect square, having in the centre a deep reservoir, 100 feet long and 80 broad; the sides are of square stones, with eight steps leading down to the surface of the water. About the margin stand a few fine elm trees, and in their shade the inevitable tea booth, and the Samovars (tea-kettle), looking like a colossal cask of beer. It is manufactured in Russia expressly for Bokhara, and invites every one to a cup of green tea. On the other three sides, bread, fruit, confectionery, and meats warm and cold, are exposed for sale on stands shaded by cane mats. The hundreds of shops improvised for the occasion, around which crowds of longing mouths or hungry customers hum like bees, present us with a very characteristic spectacle. On the fourth side, that to the west, which is in the form of a terrace, we find the mosque Mesdjidi Divanbeghi. At its front there are also a few trees, where Dervishes and Meddah (public reciters) recount in verse and prose, and actors represent simultaneously, the heroic actions of famous warriors and prophets; to which performances there are never wanting crowds of curious listeners and spectators. When I entered this place, as fate would have it, still further to enhance the interest of the exhibition, there were passing by, in their weekly procession, Dervishes of the order of the Nakishbendi, of whom this city is {174} the place of origin and the principal abode. Never shall I forget that scene when those fellows, with their wild enthusiasm and their high conical caps, fluttering hair, and long staves, danced round like men possessed, bellowing out at the same time a hymn, each strophe of which was first sung for them by their grey-bearded chief. With eye and ear so occupied, I soon forgot my fatigue. My friend was obliged positively to force me to enter a booth, and, after the precious Shivin (a kind of tea) was poured out, wishing to profit by the ecstatic feeling in which he found me, he asked me, chucklingly, 'Now, then, what do you say to Bokhara Sherif (the noble)?' 'It pleases me much,' I replied; and the Central Asiatic, although from Khokand, and an alien enemy, as his nation was at that moment at war with Bokhara, was nevertheless delighted to find that the capital of Turkestan had made such a conquest of me, and gave me his word that he would show me its finest features in the course of the following days.

[Baha-ed-din, Great Saint of Turkestan]

In spite of the costume, strictly Bokhariot, which I had this day assumed, and of my being so tanned by the sun that even my mother would have had a difficulty in recognising me, I was surrounded, wherever I appeared, by a crowd of inquisitive persons. Ah! how they shook me by the hands, and how they embraced me; how they wearied me to death! An immense turban [Footnote 45] crowned my head, a large Koran hung suspended from my neck;

[Footnote 45: The turban, it is well known, represents the pall that every pious Musselman must bear on his head as a continual memento of death. The Koran only enjoins a pall (Kefen) having a length of 7 ells. But zealots often exceed the measure, and carry about on their heads 4 to 6 such palls, thus making altogether from 28 to 42 ells of fine muslin.]{175}

I had thus assumed the exterior of an Ishan or Sheikh, and was obliged to submit to the corvÉe which I had so provoked. Still, I had reason to be contented, for the sanctity of my character had protected me from secular interrogations, and I heard how the people about questioned my friends, or whispered their criticisms to each other. 'What extreme piety,' said one, 'to come all the way from Constantinople to Bokhara alone, in order to visit our Baha-ed-din!' [Footnote 46] 'Yes,' said a second, 'and we, too, we go to Mecca, the holiest place of all, to be sure, with no little trouble.' But these people (and he pointed to me) having nothing else to do, their whole life is prayer, piety, and pilgrimage.' 'Bravo! you have guessed it,' I said to myself, delighted that my disguise was becoming so pregnant of consequence. And really I was, during my whole stay in the capital of Turkestan, not once an object of doubt or suspicion to the people, in other respects cunning and malicious enough. They came to me for my blessing; they listened to me when, on the public places, I read to them the history of the great Sheikh of Bagdad, Abdul Kadr Ghilani. They praised me, but not a farthing did I ever get from them; and the semblance of sanctity in this nation presented a singular contrast with the genuine piety and benevolence of the Khivan Ozbegs.

[Footnote 46: Baha-ed-din,--or according to Bokhariot pronunciation, Baveddin--is an ascetic and saint renowned throughout all Islam, the founder of the Nakishbendi order; members of it are to be met with in India, China, Persia, Arabia, and Turkey. He died in 1388, and the convent, as well as the mosque, and space walled in for his grave in the village of Baveddin, were erected by direction of Abdul Aziz Khan in the year 1490.]{176}

[Spies set upon Author; Fate of recent Travellers in Bokhara]

But in playing my part it was not so easy to deceive the Government as the people. Rahmet Bi, whom I before spoke of, not being able to come at me openly, set spies incessantly at work. These, in conversing with me, took care to embrace a variety of subjects, but always came to the subject of Frenghistan, hoping, probably, that I should betray myself by some unguarded expression or other. Perceiving that the twig which they had so limed did not catch its bird, they began to speak of the great pleasure which the Frenghis experience in the 'noble' Bokhara, and how already many of their spies, but particularly the Englishmen, Conolly and Stoddart, had been punished. [Footnote 47] Or they recounted to me the story of the Frenghis who had arrived only a few days before, and had been imprisoned (referring to the unfortunate Italians); how they had brought with them several chests of tea sprinkled with diamond dust, to poison all the inhabitants of the holy city; how they converted day into night, and brought about other infernal strokes of art. [Footnote 48]

[Footnote 47: The sad fate of these two martyrs has continued to remain, as I remarked, a secret even in Bokhara; the most contradictory reports are up to the present day in circulation upon this subject. The reader will readily understand that without betraying my real identity it was impossible for me to put the necessary questions to elicit any fresh information; and the sad event having been so frequently and so fully entered into by Wolff, Ferrier, T. W. Kaye, and others who have written officially and unofficially upon the subject, any notices collected by myself in my journey through Bokhara seem entirely useless and uncalled for.]
[Footnote 48: They, it appears, have recently been liberated.]{177}

[Book Bazaar]

These bloodhounds were for the most part Hadjis who had long dwelt in Constantinople, and whose design was to test at once my knowledge of its language, and my acquaintance with its mode of living. After listening to them a long time with patience, it was my habit to put on an air of disgust, and to beg them to spare me any further conversation about the Frenghis. 'I quitted Constantinople,' I said, 'to get away from these Frenghis, who seem indebted to the devil for their understanding. Thank God I am now in the "noble" Bokhara, and do not wish to embitter the time I spend here by any recollections.' Similar language I employed also with the crafty Mollah Sherefeddin, the Aksakal of the booksellers, who showed me a list of books which a Russian ambassador, a few years ago, had left behind him. I threw my eye carelessly over them and observed, 'Allah be praised, my memory is not yet corrupted by the science and books of the Frenghis, as unhappily is too often the case with the Turks of Constantinople!' [Footnote 49]

[Footnote 49: One day, a servant of the Vizir brought to me a little shrivelled individual, that I might examine him to see whether he was, as he pretended, really an Arab from Damascus. When he first entered, his features struck me much, they appeared to me European: when he opened his mouth, my astonishment and perplexity increased, for I found his pronunciation anything rather than that of an Arab. He told me that he had undertaken a pilgrimage to the tomb of Djafen Ben Sadik at Khoten in China, and wanted to proceed on his journey that very day. His features during our conversation betrayed a visible embarrassment, and it was a subject of great regret to me that I had not an occasion to see him a second time, for I am strongly disposed to think that he was playing a part similar to my own!]

When Rhamet Bi saw that he could not, by his emissaries, found any accusation, he summoned me to attend him. Of course, this was in the form of a public invitation to a Pilow, which was also attended by a circle composed of Bokhariot Ulemas. At my very entry I found that I had a hard nut to crack, for the whole interview was a sort of examination, in {178} which my incognito had to stand a running fire. I saw, however, while it was yet time, the danger to which I was exposed; and, to escape being surprised by some sudden question or other, I assumed the part of one himself curious of information, frequently interrogating these gentlemen as to the difference of religious principles in the Farz, SÜnnet, Vadjib, and Mustahab. [Footnote 50]

[Footnote 50: These are the four grades expressing the importance of the commandments of Islam. Farz means the duty enjoined by God through the Prophet; SÜnnet, the tradition emanating from the Prophet himself without Divine inspiration. The latter two words, Vadjib and Mustahab, signify ordinances originating with more recent interpreters of the Koran; the former being obligatory, the latter discretionary.]

My earnestness met with favour; and soon a very warm dispute arose upon several points in Hidayet, Sherkhi Vekaye, and other books treating of similar subjects; in this I was careful to take part, praising loudly the Bokhariot Mollahs, and admitting their great superiority, not only over me, but over all the Ulemas of Constantinople. Suffice it to say that I got safe through this ordeal also. My brethren, the Mollahs, gave Rahmet Bi to understand, both by their signs and words, that his reporter had made a great mistake, and that, even supposing me not to be a Mollah of distinction, I was still one on the high road to receive worthily the lightning-flash of true knowledge.

After this scene they left me to live a quiet life in Bokhara. It was my practice first of all to fulfil at home the different duties imposed upon me by my character of Dervish. I then proceeded to the book bazaar, which contains twenty-six shops. A printed {179} book is here a rarity. In this place, and in the houses of the booksellers (for there is the great depot), many are the treasures that I have seen, which would be of incalculable value to our Oriental historians and philologists. Their acquisition was, in my case, out of the question, for in the first place I had not the adequate means, and in the second, any appearance of worldly knowledge might have prejudiced my disguise. The few manuscripts that I brought back with me from Bokhara and Samarcand cost me much trouble to acquire, and my heart bled when I found that I was obliged to leave behind me works that might have filled many an important history in our Oriental studies. From the book market I was in the habit of resorting to the Righistan (public place); it lay rather remote. Although larger and more bustling than the Lebi Hauz, which I before described, it is far from being so agreeable; we find here also a reservoir surrounded by booths for tea; from the bank we can discern the Ark (castle or palace) of the Emir, which is on the opposite side, situate upon high ground. The portal was crowned by a clock; it had a gloomy appearance. I shuddered when I passed by this nest of tyranny, the place where, perhaps, many who preceded me had been murdered, and where, even at that moment, three wretched Europeans were languishing so far from their country and every possibility of succour. Near the gate lay fourteen pieces of brass cannon, the long barrels of which were highly ornamented. The Emir had sent them home from Khokand as trophies of the victories gained in his campaign. Above, to the right of the palace, is Mesdjidi Kelan, the largest mosque in Bokhara; it was built by Abdullah Khan Sheibani.{180}

After leaving the Righistan, I entered the tea-booth of a Chinese from Komul, [Footnote 51] a man perfectly acquainted with the Turko-Tartar language, and who passed here for a Musselman. This good man was very friendly to me, and yet how far were our homes asunder! He recounted to me much concerning the beautiful locality, much of the customs, and the excellent dishes, too, of his fatherland! But his experience was particularly great in matters connected with teas. How enthusiastically he spoke when treating of the tea-shrub, which displayed upon a single stem leaves of such a variety of flavours! He had in his shop sixteen different kinds, which he could distinguish by the touch. [Footnote 52]

[Footnote 51: Komul is distant 40 stations from Kashgar and 60 from Bokhara.]
[Footnote 52: The teas were of the following kinds:--
(1) Kyrkma.
(2) Akhbar.
(3) Ak Kuyruk.
These kinds, rarely seen in Central Asia and in China, are more used in Russia, Persia, and Europe.
(4) Kara Tchaj.
(5) Sepet Tchaj.
These two, sold like Chinese Kynaster, pressed into the form of a brick, are drunk only in the morning with cream and salt, and are very stimulating.
(6) Shibaglu.
(7) Gore Shibaglu.
(8) Shivin.
(9) It Kellesi.
(10) BÖnge.
(11) Poshun.
(12) Pu-Tchay.
(13) Tun tey.
(14) GÜlbuy.
(15) Mishk-gÖz.
(16) Lonka.
These are all green teas, none others are in favour in the north of China and in Central Asia. The last-named (Lonka) is regarded as the most precious, a single leaf suffices for a cup which equals two of ours.
The purchaser first forms a judgment of his tea by tasting a leaf that has been already boiled: when the tea is good the leaf is extremely fine and soft.]{181}

I had, during my journey from Teheran to Bokhara, heard the latter city so often described by my companions, that after a sojourn of eight days I was quite at home. First of all Hadji Salih led me everywhere, and then I continued my investigations alone, through the city, its bazaars, and its colleges (Medresse), only accompanying my friends when we received joint invitations to the house of a Chinese Tartar who had settled there. We were on these occasions usually treated to national dishes, to which my friends (I mean Hadji Bilal and his party) had long been strangers. There is one which I will impart in confidence to my European readers, for I can recommend it as a dainty. It is called Mantuy, a sort of pudding filled with hashed meat mixed with fat and spices. This they boil in a singular manner. They place upon the fire a kettle of water, which is covered in at the top, with the exception of an opening of about the size of one's closed hand. Upon this opening are placed three or four strainers or sieves, which close firmly, the under one being made fast with dough to the kettle itself. As soon as the water begins to boil, and a sufficient quantity of steam passes into the strainers, the Mantuy is at first laid in the upper, and then in the lowest strainer; here it is suffered to remain until done. It seems singular that the Chinese should employ steam in the preparation of their meats! The Mantuys, after having been boiled, are then often broiled in fat, when they receive the name Zenbusi (lady's kiss). My friends from Kashgar and Yarkend have many more dishes peculiarly their own, but these receipts would only suit a Tartar cookery book.{182}

[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.']{184}

[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.{197}