CHAPTER XXVII

THE HOUSE OF ASTRAKHAN

Among the Mongol chiefs who struggled for mastery in Eastern Russia at

the epoch of Tīmūr’s intervention[454] was a descendant of Chingiz,

named Kutluk, who rose to fame by defeating Tīmūr’s great rival,

Tokhtamish Khān, near Kiev in 1399.[455] His offspring vegetated in

obscurity for nearly two centuries in the Khānate of Astrakhan, on

the lower reaches of the Volga, and were then driven eastwards by the

growing power of the Russian princes. Thus, towards the close of the

sixteenth century, the head of this ancient line, Yār Mahammad Khān,

sought refuge in Transoxiana, and was received with honour by the

Shaybānides, whose pride in their descent from Tīmūr was flattered by

the exile’s recognition of their claims to kinship. Iskandar Khān gave

his daughter, the sister of `Abdullah, greatest of the Shaybānide line,

in marriage to the Astrakhan chief’s son, Jāni Khān.

The new-comer soon showed that he possessed the warrior’s instincts,

and took a prominent part in his brother-in-law `Abdullah’s campaigns.

And so it came to pass that when the last of the Shaybānides, `Abd

ul-Mū´min, was slain, the nobles of Transoxiana offered the crown to

Jāni Khān. He, being well stricken in years, declined it in favour

of his son Dīn Mahammad, who united the blood of Chingiz and of

the fallen dynasty. He did not long survive to enjoy his fortune;

perishing in battle with the Persians, who attempted to drive the

Uzbegs from Khorāsān. His successor, A.H. 1007 (1598) was his brother

Bāki Mohammad, while Vāli Mohammad, another of old Jāni’s sons, took

possession of Balkh and the country west of the Oxus. A third brother

was murdered in A.H. 1011 (1602) by the Kara Turkomans who dwelt at

Kunduz, and from them Bāki Mahammad exacted a terrible vengeance.

Kunduz was taken by storm, and the entire garrison was put to the

sword. This punishment brought Shāh `Abbās of Persia into the field,

determined to guard his north-eastern frontier from foes who threatened

the existence of his authority. He met with a crushing defeat near

Balkh, and escaped with the greatest difficulty from capture. The

remainder of Bāki Mohammad’s reign was disturbed only by those

insurrections, fomented by kinsmen, from which few Eastern princes were

free. He died in A.H. 1014 (1605), and was succeeded by his brother

Vāli Mohammad, the erstwhile lord of Balkh. Vāli Mohammad’s rule was

brief and inglorious. He wallowed in debauchery, and surrendered all

power to an unscrupulous vezīr, whose fiendish cruelties aroused fierce

resentment, and led to his master’s defeat and death at the hands of a

kinsman, Imām Kulī Khān (1611). The new ruler was of sterner and purer

mould. He courted the society of the learned and pious, and laboured

to secure his country’s prosperity. And so, under his wise and just

régime, Bokhārā regained a share of her ancient glory. She grew rapidly

in wealth, and again became a beacon-light in the darkness of Central

Asia. At length, after a reign of thirty-eight years, the good Imām

Kulī Khān felt himself unequal to the task of governing, and sought

the repose which is the ideal of all true Musulmans. He summoned

his brother Nāzir Mohammad from Balkh and surrendered his realm to

him.[456] Then, taking a pilgrim’s staff, he set out for Medīna, where

he died in the odour of sanctity, leaving traces of his munificence

which have endured to the present day.

His successor (1642) found it impossible to secure a place in his

people’s affections. He was immensely rich, and endeavoured to win

public regard by his largesses; but Bokhārā sighed for the good times

of old Imām Kulī Khān, and the popular feeling found vent in a revolt

which raged in the northern provinces. Nāzir Mohammad sent his son

`Abd el-`Azīz to quell it, but the faithless prince placed himself

at the head of the rebels and marched on Bokhārā. The unhappy father

fled to Balkh, leaving his capital at his unnatural foe’s mercy, and

`Abd el-`Azīz took up the fallen sceptre (1647). Nāzir Mohammad, in

despair, divided the rest of his realms among his sons who had remained

faithful to him--the fourth, Subhān Kulī Khān, receiving in fief the

country round the ford of Khwāja Sālū on the Upper Oxus. But his old

age was still embittered by his children’s contests for supremacy.

Worn out at last by the unequal struggle, he resolved to spend the

brief remainder of his days in the sacred soil of Medīna, and died,

broken-hearted, on his pilgrimage thither.[457] His death served only

to increase the hostility between his sons. Subhān Kulī Khān, who had

established himself at Balkh, became a thorn in the side of his brother

`Abd el-`Azīz of Bokhārā. A third brother, Kāsim Mohammad,[458]

was despatched with an army to reduce him to submission; but he was

defeated, and driven to take refuge at Hisār, and peace was restored on

the masterful Subhān Kulī Khān being recognised as heir to the throne.

Hardly had the clouds of civil war been dissipated ere Bokhārā became

the prey of foreign invasion (1663). Khiva had long been a province of

the southern Khānate, but its prince, Abū-l-Ghāzi, a man whose life had

been one long romance, determined to throw off the hated yoke. He drove

the Bokhārans from the Lower Oxus, and carried the war into the enemy’s

camp. Defeated with great slaughter by `Abd el-`Azīz near Kerminé,

he escaped with a grievous wound by swimming across the great river.

Nothing daunted, he soon took the field again, and carried his ravages

to the very gates of Bokhārā.

His son and successor, Anūsha Khān, was still more venturesome. He

invaded `Abd el-`Azīz’s territory at the head of a great force, A.H.

1076 (1665), and actually gained possession of the capital during

the sovereign’s temporary absence at Kerminé. The latter hastened to

his people’s aid. With only forty devoted followers he hewed his way

to the citadel, and summoned his subjects to oust the invader. The

call was but too eagerly obeyed: all classes rose as a man against

the abhorred Khivans. The Sicilian Vespers were repeated, and but few

escaped to tell the tale of disaster. This splendid heroism exhausted

`Abd el-`Azīz’s stock of mental vigour.[459] He determined to abdicate

in favour of his brother Subhān Kulī Khān, and seek the secure refuge

which Medīna offered to those oppressed with the carking cares of life.

His temperament, indeed, predisposed him in favour of a course which

had become traditional in his family. It was a rare mixture of the

adventurous and the contemplative. Daring in battle, prompt in action,

`Abd el-`Azīz inherited a tendency to asceticism, and was wont to

withdraw himself from worldly affairs and remain plunged in prolonged

meditation on the ineffable goodness of his Maker. Without regret he

laid down his crown and betook himself as a humble pilgrim to the Holy

City, which is the goal of every true follower of the Prophet.

Subhān Kulī Khān assumed the insignia of royalty on his brother’s

departure; but gratified ambition brought with it no accession of

happiness. The Astrakhanides, with many virtues, were deficient in

filial love, and Subhān Kulī’s heart was wrung by the jealousy and

disrespect of his children. His neighbour of Khiva, too, did not take

to heart the terrible lesson taught him in the preceding reign. In

A.H. 1095 (1683) he invaded Bokhārā, and, though defeated by a loyal

chief named Mohammad Bi, he repeated his incursions in the following

year. In A.H. 1100 (1688) his successor advanced to the very gates of

Bokhārā; but he, too, was soundly beaten by Mohammad Bi, and Khiva

fell for a time under Subhān Kulī Khān’s dominion. This age witnessed

the apogee of Bokhārā’s greatness in the estimation of the Mohammedan

world. Aurangzīb, the narrow-minded zealot who sat on the throne

of Akbar, sent thither ambassadors with elephants and other costly

gifts; and Ahmad II. of Turkey, whose lust for conquest far exceeded

his military genius, did not disdain to address his Bokhāran brother

a grandiloquent epistle describing mythical successes against the

Frankish unbelievers.[460]

In spite of endless trouble with rebellious nobles, Subhān Kulī Khān

found a leisure to cultivate the Muses; and he was also the author of a

book on medicine which epitomises the lore of Galen, Hippocrates, and

Avicenna, but suggests nostrums in the shape of prayers and talismans

of which none of those worthies would have approved. He was now eighty

years of age, and felt that a time had come when he must bid adieu to

ambition. He called around him his nobles, and publicly designated

his son Mukīm Khān, who ruled at Balkh, as his successor. Then he

peacefully resigned his breath after a reign of twenty-four years, A.H.

1114 (1702).

Mukīm Khān found an obstacle in his path in the person of his elder

brother `Ubaydullah, and a civil war broke out in which the great Uzbeg

nobles of Bokhārā found their account. The faithful Mohammad Bi took up

the gauntlet for Mukīm, while the elder pretender’s cause was espoused

by Rahīm Bi, the chief of the powerful Mangit tribe. It lasted for

five years, when, thanks to his nominal vassal’s support, `Ubaydullah

triumphed. He chafed under the dictation of the Mangit king-maker, and

was promptly suppressed by poison; another brother named Abū-l-Fayz

being elevated to the throne in his stead, A.H. 1130 (1717).

The new sovereign’s character was wholly deficient in the strength

of purpose so needful in one who aspires to rule his fellow-men, and

he owed to his utter insignificance his recognition by the turbulent

nobles who surrounded him. It is the fate of all long-lived dynasties

to end miserably with a succession of _rois fainéants_; and the

Astrakhanides were no exception to the rule. Not only did Abū-l-Fayz

meekly submit to the dictation of Rahīm Bi; he bowed the neck to a

foreign potentate, and disgraced his country in the eyes of Islām.

In 1736 Nādir Shāh of Persia, whom Vambéry styles the last of the

Asiatic conquerors of the world,[461] after crushing the Ottoman power

in Georgia, turned his eagle glance on the states on his north-eastern

frontier. A host under his son Rizā Kulī Khān was hurled against

Andakhūy and Balkh, and soon the Sun and Lion of Persia waved over

both citadels. Flushed with victory, Rizā Kulī Khān crossed the Oxus

and fell upon Abū-l-Fayz Khān’s dispirited legions. But Ilbars, the

lion-hearted ruler of Khiva, came to the rescue, and the forces of

the two Khānates gained the day in an encounter with the invaders at

Karshī. Nādir Shāh, who had far deeper designs at stake, recalled

his impetuous son, and informed the Khāns of Central Asia that the

expedition had been undertaken without his consent, and that he wished

to live in amity with the descendants of Chingiz. Meantime Persian

gold was brought into play. Rahīm Bi and other Uzbeg chiefs were won

to his side, and a breach was produced by the jealousy between Bokhārā

and Khiva. Then, secure from attack from his dreaded foes of Khiva,

Nādir Shāh invaded India, A.H. 1152 (1739), took Delhi with fearful

slaughter, and bent his steps homewards with booty valued at eighty

millions sterling.

When the news of this successful raid reached Abū-l-Fayz he sent an

embassy to the conqueror, who was resting on his easily won laurels at

Peshawar. “I am the last off-shoot,” he wrote, “of an ancient line. I

am not powerful enough to withstand a monarch so redoubtable as thou,

and so I keep myself apart, offering prayers for thy welfare. If,

however, thou shouldst deign to honour me by a visit, I will show thee

the regard due to a guest.”[462] The fatuous prince at the same time

sought to associate his neighbour of Khiva in his abasement, but his

overtures were received with outspoken contempt.

Nādir Shāh saw in the submission tamely offered by Bokhārā (1740) a

means of crushing his inveterate enemy, Ilbars Khān, and he accepted

Abū-l-Fayz’s invitation.

He marched from Peshawar to Herāt with three hundred elephants, a tent

embroidered with pearls, and the famous Peacock Throne, ravished from

the Hall of Private Audience at Delhi.[463] Thence he travelled to

Karki on the Oxus frontier of Bokhārā, where he was met by Rahīm Bi

with presents and supplies for his locust-horde of followers. Thence

he fared to Charjūy, and traversed the mighty river by a bridge which

he threw across it in three days. Leaving half his army to protect

the priceless baggage, he moved on to Karakūl, a fortress one day’s

march from the capital. Here he was met by Abū-l-Fayz, attended by

his nobles, courtiers, and clergy, bringing a present of beautiful

Arab horses. The titular sovereign of Bokhārā presented himself as a

suppliant, but was given a seat by Nādir Shāh. Clad in a robe of state

and crowned, the imperious guest carried his complaisance so far as to

address his host as “Shāh.” But further honours were in store for the

obsequious Abū-l-Fayz. Nādir deigned to accept his lovely daughter as a

wife, bestowing her sister, at the same time, on his nephew. He created

Mohammad Rahīm Bi, to whose influence he owed his reception, Khān, and

gave him command of 6000 chosen troops levied in Turkestān. Having thus

brought Bokhārā to heel, Nādir Shāh turned his attention to Khiva. He

sent an envoy to Ilbars Khān, demanding his instant submission. The

Khivan was a man of ungovernable temper, and his reply was to put to

death those who held out to him the olive branch. This breach of the

usages of Islām sealed his fate. He was attacked by Nādir Shāh with an

overwhelming force, and closely invested in his fortress of Khanka.

After undergoing a cannonade for three days, the proud Ilbars was

forced to throw himself upon the mercy of a man whose fearful butchery

of the population of Delhi showed that he was insensible of the softer

feelings; and against him pleaded the children of the slaughtered

envoys, whose blood cried aloud for vengeance. He was put to death,

and twenty-one of his principal officers shared his fate.[464] Having

thus rid himself of a perpetual thorn in his side, Nādir Shāh returned

to Charjūy, whence he sent back to her father the young princess whom

he had lately wedded. He then returned to Khorāsān by way of Merv,

and fell a victim to a conspiracy among his followers, provoked to

extremities by his insane cruelty, A.H. 1160 (1747).

The news of his death led the all-powerful Mohammad Rahīm Bi to throw

off the semblance of loyalty to his effete master.[465] He entered

Bokhārā with a strong force, seized the person of the wretched

Abū-l-Fayz, confiscated his treasure, and finally put him to death.

With him virtually ended the dynasty of the Astrakhanides, which

had exhibited many virtues, neutralised, however, by an absence of

will-power and a bias towards the mystic side of their religion. Their

age was one of profound decadence. Its architectural remains, which

reflect the spirit of an era much more closely than is generally

supposed, are insignificant. They are, indeed, limited to the great

college known as Shīr Dar, which was built at Samarkand in 1610, and

a few other public edifices which do not shine by contrast with those

dating from Tīmūr’s happier days. But Bokhārā was destined to wallow

in a yet deeper abasement under the uncouth Uzbegs, who supplanted the

cultured sovereigns of the Astrakhan line.

The heart of Asia · 第 27 / 33 章