WARS WITH THE TUNGANI.
Yakoob Beg, having deposed Buzurg Khan and suppressed all resistance on
the part either of the Tungani or of the Chinese in Western Kashgar, had
some leisure to make a careful survey of his exact position. The result
of the desultory fighting of the previous twelve months had been
eminently satisfactory to himself; but, to say the least, it was dubious
how long this state of things might last. Former adventurers had
accomplished as much as he had, but the Chinese had always returned with
renewed vigour. How was Yakoob Beg to know that the rumours were well
founded which asserted that that empire had been sore stricken in other
fields than against the Tungani, and that even the victories over the
Taepings were not considered a complete set-off to the disasters in
every other quarter of the empire? European critics predicted that the
last hour of the Chinese Empire was fast approaching; but Yakoob Beg,
with far more imperfect means of intelligence at his disposal, feared
still, even when the citadel of Kashgar surrendered, that the Khitay
would return for revenge. His fears were not groundless, as we now know,
but he anticipated events by more than ten years. Yakoob Beg was not so
sanguine in his own resources or good fortune that he believed that he
should not have to encounter the danger that had overwhelmed all his
predecessors, and his first object accordingly was to gather all his
strength together in a compact mass to resist the Chinese when they
should come. But the dissensions that had, during the conquest of
Altyshahr, manifested themselves so palpably in the ill-assorted
conglomeration which had gathered round the standard of Buzurg Khan
brought home to the mind of Yakoob Beg the disadvantages of a divided
people. He accordingly determined that, whatever else he might fail or
succeed in achieving, his most resolute effort should be to weld into
one cohesive and effective whole Andijani and Tungani, Kashgari and
Khitay. It was no mean ambition; but to cement such discordant elements
a policy of "blood and iron" was required. Yakoob Beg did not shrink
certainly in its application; but when he had accomplished the task he
had set himself to bring about he discovered that the cost had been so
great that the state, both in population and in wealth, was at a lower
point than it had ever been before. But in the earlier days of 1866 no
doubt crossed his mind on this latter point. It must be remembered that,
strange to say, the great success of Yakoob Beg in Kashgar had alienated
the sympathy of the government of Khokand from his cause; and, although
this may be explained by the antipathy of Khudayar Khan, now firmly
seated on the throne, who could not entertain any amity for a subject
who had on several occasions deserted his cause, it is impossible to
attribute to that sentiment alone a fact which must have had some deeper
and less personal explanation. At all stages of the history of these
petty princes of Asia are we met by the spectacle of mutual jealousy and
recrimination, whenever any one of themselves seemed about to exalt
himself above his fellows, either by the success of his arms or by the
beneficence of his rule. Rarely, indeed, had any of them shown that he
possessed more than ordinary ability or courage; but, whenever the
phenomenon did appear, he was at once proclaimed by his neighbours to be
a dangerous innovation, and as such to be thwarted and opposed. The
practice has come down to our own day, and during the long wars that
Russia has waged in Asia we have never beheld two states, no matter how
insignificant, combine to oppose the common foe. The Khokandians have
never aided the Bokhariots or the Khivans, nor have the Afghans or the
Kashgari the Khokandians. They have kept the ring, so to speak, as each
of them has gone down singly before the prowess of the Muscovite, in a
manner that ought to excite the admiration of all those who preserve the
memories of the traditional honours of the prize ring; but, as their own
existence has been the penalty, it is questionable whether their
conduct, inspired by regard for no law of chivalry, but simply by mutual
antipathy, has been very prudent. Over such petty jealousies had Yakoob
Beg to triumph before he could hope to complete his dream of an united
Kashgaria. His path was beset with difficulties. In satisfying himself
with too little he might imperil what he had secured, but in attempting
too much he might jeopardize everything he had won. Under such
circumstances the boldest man might have stood uncertain, and the most
resolute inactive until hurried into action by the progress of events.
For some months Yakoob Beg seems to have remained uncertain what should
be his next move.
In 1865, before his last advance on Yarkand, he had seized Maralbashi or
Bartchuk, and by so doing not only had he secured communication between
Aksu and Yarkand, but also between Aksu and Khoten. This position, lying
200 miles to the east of Yangy Hissar, has always been and is still very
important, and Yakoob Beg is supposed to have fortified it very
strongly. This success was the permanent result of his great victory
over the Tungani from Aksu and Kucha in the neighbourhood of Yangy
Hissar, and it effectually secured his flank during further operations.
It was not, however, until he turned his attention to the southern city
of Khoten, that the importance of this acquisition was made
incontestable. Then it enabled him to devote his attention exclusively
to the extension of his sway southward to the mountains of Karakoram
and Kuen Lun, beyond which he might expect no enemy. In Khoten the Mufti
Habitulla had been invested with supreme control, after the deposition
of the Chinese authorities; and during his government of the city and
district, order appears to have been maintained without unnecessary
exactions. When Yakoob Beg made his first appearance in Yarkand, after
his earlier successes round Kashgar, it will be remembered that the
Yarkandi acknowledged the supremacy of the new Khoja king. Their example
was speedily followed by Habitulla of Khoten, and it is not stated that,
even during the progress of hostilities with Yarkand, this ruler
repudiated the arrangement into which he had entered. It is true that he
was far removed from the immediate sphere of action, but that will not
alone account for an indifference to the progress of events in Kashgar,
which Khoten had never manifested on any previous occasion. Khoten may,
therefore, be considered to have been exceptionally well behaved towards
the new Khoja dynasty located at Kashgar; and when Yakoob Beg advanced
to the south of Yarkand, Habitulla hastened to send representatives to
the camp of the conqueror. They were received with consideration, but
deep down in the breast of Yakoob Beg there lurked either an inveterate
distrust of, or dislike to, the Mufti Habitulla. Dissembling his true
feelings, Yakoob Beg sent a message requesting the presence of the Mufti
in his camp. The Mufti, deluded by the friendly treatment bestowed on
his emissaries, came with many of his relations and followers into the
camp of the Kashgarian general. At first, we are told, they were treated
with every mark of respect and kindness; they were feasted and clothed
in precious garments, but all these honours were but the preliminaries
to the concluding ceremony. During the progress of the evening meal they
were disarmed, and led out to execution, while an attack was made from
several quarters on the town. Even then the resistance was prolonged,
and the slaughter by the infuriated soldiery of the Athalik Ghazi
continued long after all serious opposition had ceased. It is impossible
to exonerate Yakoob Beg from the chief blame on this occasion, and if he
had been a civilized European general, we should have made use of the
phrase, that "It must ever remain a blot on his career;" but it would be
the height of irony to apply such a phrase to this unscrupulous Asiatic,
who, if not worse than the school in which he was brought up, was
certainly not much better in a moral sense. As the fact stands, the
seizure of Khoten, and the massacre of the unarmed leaders of that city,
appear to have been acts as unnecessary as they were unjustifiable.
Khoten may have seemed to the Athalik Ghazi of exceptional importance
for several reasons, and he may have felt doubtful of the fidelity of
Habitulla and his followers; but, so far as we are aware, the reasons
for this action are shadowy in the extreme, even regarded from the point
of view of political expediency. Down to the present day, too, the
memory of this massacre, needless even in the eyes of a people
accustomed to the shortest cuts to power by wholesale slaughter, has
rankled in the minds of the inhabitants of Khoten and Sanju, and the
Athalik Ghazi was least popular in that part of his state in which,
according to the traditions of his predecessors, his action had been
most sweeping, and accordingly most safe. This was early in the year
1867, and the Athalik Ghazi had now an opportunity for settling his
relationship with his eastern neighbours, the Tungani.
The Tungan movement proper originated, as explained in the last chapter,
in the Chinese provinces of Kansuh and Shensi, and then extended with
scarcely a check to Turfan south of the Tian Shan and to Urumtsi north
of that range. The flame soon spread from Turfan to Karashar, Kucha, and
Aksu, and at all of these towns it was fomented by the appearance of the
new element of the Mahomedan Khokandian, and native settlers, acting in
combination with the Chinese Tungani. North of the Tian Shan the
movement received a temporary repulse; and it is necessary to say
something in explanation of the course of the Mahomedan revival in Ili
before we proceed to discuss the earlier wars of Yakoob Beg with the
Tungani. As early as 1860 serious complications had arisen in that
province, although the Chinese had always been more firmly situated
there than in Kashgar. In that year a plot was concocted to murder the
Chinese viceroy and to upset the existing government. It was discovered,
however, and fell through. There appear to have been more causes at work
in Ili to produce discontent than in the southern state, and it was not
so much a question here between Khitay and Tungani, as it was between a
people clamouring for work, for less taxation, and for payment for what
they had done, and an administration that was unable to satisfy the
demands made upon it from all sides. That last resource of a government
at its wits' ends for money, the depreciation of the current coin and
the issue of fictitious paper, was adopted by the Viceroy of Ili. The
measure, which it had been expected would lessen the difficulty, only
added fuel to the flame. The situation of affairs was becoming
desperate; the people were encouraged by the disasters of the Chinese in
the neighbouring states to increase the number of their demands; and the
Chinese officials appear to have lost their heads in the storm that was
gathering from all sides around them. They were but the effete
representatives of a system which in its vigorous days had claims to
general admiration, and they are only saved from incurring our contempt
by the possession of courage, the sole virtue left them. When the
Chinese first conquered Eastern Turkestan they brought from Kashgar a
large number of settlers, and placed them in the country round Ili. They
became known as Tarantchis, and, in the course of two or three
generations, had increased into a very numerous community. These were
always at heart disaffected to the Chinese, but, as they occupied a
very subordinate position, would probably never have thought of revolt
had not a large division of the conquerors set them the example of
insubordination. So soon as the discontent among the working classes had
assumed formidable proportions by the pecuniary embarrassment of the
Chinese, and the Tungan successes in the east of Jungaria had raised a
fanatical feeling to swell the hatred against a declining and Buddhist
rule, the Tarantchis were not backward for their part in reviving their
almost forgotten grievances, and in joining in a defensive and offensive
alliance with the Tungani. Each party collected such forces as they
could, out in the encounter that ensued the disciplined soldiers of the
Viceroy overcame the far more numerous mob by which they were opposed.
The fortress of Bazandai, however, within the next few days, fell into
the power of the insurgents, and that achievement more than compensated
for the disaster in the open field. Ili itself surrendered in January,
1866, and a Tungani-Tarantchi government was formed. The Chinese viceroy
had in the meanwhile destroyed himself and many of his followers and
assailants by setting fire to a mine of gunpowder under his palace. The
Tungan element gradually superseded the Tarantchi in the administration
of the state, and the five years of independence, which continued until
the Russians came in 1871, were chiefly marked by petty disagreements
which had no influence on the progress of events in this part of Asia.
The trade with Ili fell off, and many other valid reasons for Russian
intervention were accumulated during those few years of national
existence.
With the beginning of 1867, Yakoob Beg, secure on the south and on the
west from aggression, found himself in a position to cope with the
disjointed but allied Tungan states on his north and east. The hostility
of the Tungani and Khojas of Aksu and Kucha had been already
demonstrated, and it was to be surmised that they were only waiting to
recover from the disastrous campaign of 1865 to renew their efforts to
drive the Khokandian adventurers out of Kashgar. The facts that they
acknowledged the same religious tenets, and that they had overcome, to
some extent, a common enemy in the Chinese, and that they certainly had
each to fear most from their return, seem to have weighed little with
either the Tungani or the Athalik Ghazi. To do the latter simple
justice, it must be remembered that the Tungani had been the aggressors,
and that their attitude never ceased to be unfriendly towards himself.
It is certain that he made some efforts to effect an amicable
arrangement with the ruling party in Aksu, but his advances were
received with coldness, and both the Khojas and the Tungani of that city
held aloof from all intercourse with the new-comer. Both parties
remained watching each other for some time, each waiting for the other
to take the initiative. The Tungani had experienced the weight of the
military power of Yakoob Beg, when they had taken the offensive in the
earlier days of his appearance at Kashgar. It was, therefore, not very
probable that they would repeat the experiment when he presented a far
more formidable and united presence to their attack. Practically
speaking, Yakoob Beg was safe from invasion from the east so long as he
maintained order within his own frontier; and the Tungani in Ili on his
north had manifested no special hostility against his state. Secure from
any aggression on the part of the Tungani, Yakoob Beg might with some
reason have declined to push to extremities his relations with them. It
was certainly inconvenient that an antagonistic state should exist on
his very borders, but, as he was in a very strong position for defence,
the disadvantages of abandoning it to assume an offensive policy were
all the more apparent. What necessity could be alleged to justify a
scarcely excusable attack in a moral sense, and a quite unnecessary in a
political? The proximity of Aksu was in a strategic sense more than
neutralized by the possession of Maralbashi, and, with the lapse of
time and the return of peace, the trade route from Kashgar to Aksu might
be expected to revive once more. But such temporizing measures as these,
involving the endurance of Tungan indifference, could not be brooked by
the Athalik Ghazi. The orthodoxy of these Mahomedans was not above
suspicion, and to so devout and energetic a Sunni as Yakoob Beg these
differences were scarcely less offensive than if they had been believers
in a rival religion. Dictatorial announcements were made to the
Khoja-Tungan rulers of Aksu; and, on their persisting in defiance,
Yakoob Beg collected his forces to chastise them. The doctrines of the
Tungani were impeached as not being in strict accordance with the
Shariat, and the religious fervour of the Sunnis was appealed to, to
bring these recalcitrant people to an acknowledgment of the error of
their ways. In addition to the semi-religious element thus imported into
the question, Yakoob Beg also laid claim to the country up to Kucha as
part of the old territory of the Khoja kings.
In the spring of 1867 his army set out in two divisions for Aksu. The
Tungani appear to have been paralyzed when the danger that had for many
months appeared menacing came upon them. The resistance encountered at
Aksu, naturally and artificially a very strong place, was not prolonged,
and Yakoob Beg swept on against Kucha. Here the Tungani, having somewhat
recovered from their trepidation, made a desperate stand, and with the
reinforcements that had arrived from Turfan presented a sufficiently
formidable appearance. The ruling authorities in Kucha were Khojas, who
in the time of the Chinese had the custody of a shrine sacred to the
memory of a Mahomedan saint, but who at the outbreak of disturbances
left the temple for the council chamber, and the offering up of prayers
to the memory of the saint for the more difficult task of issuing edicts
for the management of a people. Unhappily for their reputation in our
eyes, they had specially distinguished themselves in the massacres of
the Khitay. Their brief tenure of power seems to have been fairly
beneficent, and, in the lull that succeeded the deposition of the
Chinese and preceded the invasion of Yakoob Beg, they obtained without
doing anything very noteworthy the approval and affection of their
subjects. At Kucha, therefore, more than 500 miles distant from his own
capital, with a long line of hostile country in his rear, Yakoob Beg
found himself opposed by the full power of the Tungani. Previous to
advancing beyond Aksu he had sent back officers to Kashgar to bring up
fresh levies, and he had resorted to that doubtful expedient of drafting
into his army many of the Tungani captured at Aksu. Arrived in front of
Kucha he was unable to prosecute the siege with any vigour until the
arrival of his reinforcements. The moment of delay was attempted to be
turned to account by Yakoob Beg and some of the more prudent of his
counsellors; but the Tungani, whether unwilling to acknowledge their
inferiority or incredulous of the good faith of the Athalik Ghazi,
refused to enter into negotiations that they asserted were unnecessary.
Yakoob Beg had invaded them in their possessions, and he had annexed
Aksu; the only condition in which they could acquiesce was a withdrawal
of his army. All the efforts of the more peaceful and the more prudent
on either side were unavailing, and each party used every exertion to
bring up fresh troops to decide the question of superiority between
Tungani and Kashgari. For several weeks the two armies stood facing each
other, the one stationed on the hills to the north and west of the city,
commanding the main road from Aksu, the other in the environs and the
fortifications of the city itself. The Tungani were far the more
numerous, but in the quality of his main body, and in general efficiency
both of weapons and of experience among the officers, the advantage was
completely on the side of Yakoob Beg. The nucleus of his force comprised
Afghan, Khokandian, and Badakshi troops, veterans in the wars of the
two previous years. The Tungani were either the assassins of helpless
Chinese, or the fugitives of Aksu or Yangy Hissar. They were imperfectly
armed, without any organization, and without any competent leaders.
Above all, the cause they were fighting for was vague, and many of them
in their hearts sympathized more with Yakoob Beg than they did with
their own chiefs. The Kashgarian army, on the other hand, was encouraged
by a long series of brilliant achievements, and looked forward with
eagerness to the fray as the means of exalting their own religion, and
as affording them an opportunity for advancing their own personal
interests by the plunder of so rich a city as Kucha. The reinforcements
were consequently eagerly expected, and some of the more ardent spirits
demanded that they should be led without delay against the enemy. Yakoob
Beg was so far prudent that he refused to be urged into premature action
by the impetuosity of his followers, and the arrival of reinforcements
sooner than was anticipated enabled him not only to keep the excitement
of his soldiery within due bounds, but also to commence active
operations at an earlier date than had seemed possible. The Tungan
leaders, deluded by the inaction of Yakoob Beg into a belief that he was
unable to prosecute the enterprise he had undertaken, assumed the
offensive, only to be worsted in several minor engagements. The Tungan
troops were driven within the walls, and the siege was prosecuted with
the closest rigour. The garrison of Kucha was not sufficiently numerous
to guard in proper strength the wide-stretching suburbs and extensive
fortifications of the existing Kucha, and the cities that had in olden
days stood upon its site. Not many days elapsed before Yakoob Beg
perceived that the defence was confined to a limited portion of the
fortifications, and that several points were entirely neglected. He
resolved, therefore, to put an end to the slow process of a siege by
carrying the town by a general assault. With the whole of his available
force he attacked the city on three sides; but the Tungani resisted
strenuously, and all his direct attacks were repulsed with heavy loss.
To his son Khooda Kul Beg he had entrusted an attack in the rear of the
city, and on the success of that movement now entirely depended the
result of the assault on Kucha. That division by great good fortune and
the gallantry of its leader was victorious, and, although this promising
son of Yakoob Beg, then only a little more than twenty years of age, was
killed in the confusion that ensued on the entrance into the city, Kucha
fell. The triumph was, perhaps, not too dearly purchased. The Tungan
power had received a blow, which took the sting out of its menace, and
effectually protected Kashgar from any possible confederacy among the
Tungan cities. Yakoob Beg followed up the success of Kucha with all his
usual promptitude, but his power was not yet sufficiently matured to
justify him in carrying on extensive operations at such a distance from
the base of his resources. But another reason at this time combined to
recall his attention to another part of his dominions. The Russians were
advancing both in Khokand and in the district of Vernoe to the west of
Kuldja.
It was evident that prudence demanded a prompt return, and for the
present all further triumph must be abandoned. However, before Yakoob
Beg returned to regulate events in the western portion of his dominions,
he had the satisfaction of receiving the submission humbly tendered by
the ruling bodies of Karashar, Turfan, Hamil, and Urumtsi. After this
brilliant campaign, he slowly retraced his steps through Kucha to Aksu.
Then he turned into the mountains, and reduced Ush Turfan, which in his
onward march he had passed by; and, after this acquisition, the Tungani
of Ili expressed a desire to enter into terms of amity with one who had
brought his empire into direct contact with their state. All these
events occurred during the year 1867; and, although now and then
uncertain rumours reached England of these changes in Eastern
Turkestan, the world in general, even the Russian world, remained
indifferent to the progress of events of which it is now difficult to
trace the exact course. But, with the close of this first Tungan
campaign, and with the extension of the new state up to the walls of
Kucha, the Russian Government, as will be seen in a later chapter,
endeavoured to arrive at some clear view on the exact condition of the
newly formed confederacy to which they in their career of conquest were
approaching so rapidly.
This commencement of foreign interest in, nay, almost supervision of,
his actions in Eastern Turkestan, imposed some restriction on the
hitherto unrestrained caprice of Yakoob Beg, and the country beyond
Kucha up to Turfan was saved for a short time from the depredations from
which in 1871-73 it suffered so much. On his return to Kashgar after
this triumphant progress, and after having annexed the three important
cities, Aksu, Kucha, and Ush Turfan, the danger which had seemed to
threaten the state from Russia passed off, and Yakoob Beg proceeded to
consolidate his hold on what he had secured. Aksu and Kucha were
fortified, and various small forts were constructed in the passes
leading to Khokand and Kuldja. Every precaution was taken that he had it
in his power to observe, to ensure the safety of his little kingdom from
without, and for the moment all murmur within seemed to be hushed by the
loud acclamations at the victories of the Athalik Ghazi. He had, indeed,
accomplished no slight task, and could afford to regard his handiwork
with some complacency. To erect a powerful state on the ruins of the
Chinese power, and to unite in some sort of settled government turbulent
races and antagonistic sects, was no mean achievement; and to all the
credit due to such Yakoob Beg has indisputable claims. But for him,
confusion and disunion would have settled down over Eastern Turkestan,
until either the Russians or the Chinese had come to establish a
respectable government; but for him Kashgar would have lapsed into a
state of almost hopeless disorder, and Russian triumphs would have been
facilitated. But, when Yakoob Beg returned to find that he was not
seriously threatened in Kashgar, he experienced deep regret and
mortification that he had abstained from prosecuting his wars with the
Tungani with a greater vigour. He eagerly looked forward to an excuse
for resuming his discontinued operations against them. In the interval
that elapsed, he waged a small war in the mountainous region of his
territory extending into Badakshan and the Chitral. Sirikul had, ever
since the appearance of the Badakshi army in the service of Kashgar,
acknowledged a certain kind of obedience to Yakoob Beg; but in 1868, the
governor hitherto supported by the Athalik Ghazi broke out into revolt,
and committed several acts of depredation in the contiguous districts of
Sanju and Yarkand. Yakoob Beg without delay despatched a small force
against him, and, by the help of some mountain guns and the judicious
employment of a small but select body of cavalry, was successful in
overcoming all resistance with very slight loss. In February, 1869,
Yakoob Beg, having tried several milder alternatives, formally annexed
this district, and carried the inhabitants into Yarkand. He resettled
the territory with Kirghiz nomads and Yarkandis. Once more, he was able
to turn his attention to the east, and in 1869 commenced those final
campaigns against the Tungani which only ceased with the reappearance of
the Chinese. The great blot in the career of Yakoob Beg is the
resumption of hostilities against the Tungani. In 1867, when he first
engaged with any vigour the Tungani, some excuse may be found for that
unforeseeing action, in the fact that the Tungani were unbroken, and
might have proved formidable neighbours. But in 1869, they had been
hurled back on Korla, and, although it may be true that they were
inconvenient neighbours, robbing caravans and molesting travellers, it
is difficult to justify the later campaigns of Yakoob Beg against them,
especially as they were conducted by himself and his lieutenants with
exceptional ferocity. But, however weak may have been the impulse, and
however disastrous in the result may have been his crusade against the
Tungani, it was not difficult to discover a plausible excuse for
proceeding to extreme measures with his troublesome neighbours. In the
autumn of 1869, Korla fell before his triumphant arms, and it would
appear that he then turned north into the valleys of the Tekes and the
Yuldus, two rivers rising in the Tian Shan, and flowing through
Jungaria. This movement aroused the susceptibilities of the Russians,
and afforded a very simple excuse for the acquisition of Kuldja. In that
state, disturbances had arisen between the Tungani and the Tarantchis,
and it must have fallen an easy prey to the Athalik Ghazi had he been
permitted to advance. The Russians had, however, in 1871, entered
Kuldja, and explained their action by asserting that they had only done
so to restore order, and to prevent its falling into the hands of Yakoob
Beg. They merely held it in trust for the Chinese, so they said, and
would restore it to them, its rightful owners, so soon as they should be
able to keep permanent possession of it. While Yakoob Beg despatched a
large detachment into the country of the Tian Shan, his main body was
prosecuting with vigour the war against Karashar and Turfan. Yakoob Beg
did not always conduct the war in person, for his two sons, Kuli Beg and
Hacc Kuli Beg, were now growing up, and they, assisted by some of the
older lieutenants, triumphed in various actions over the Tungan rulers
of Turfan and Hamil, while even the princes of Urumtsi and Manas over
the Tian Shan were unable to oppose the valour and energy of their
adversary. The glory of these military achievements was tarnished by the
ruthless manner in which the district was laid waste, and the
inhabitants were massacred; and the senselessness of these proceedings
only required an hour of trial, such as the Chinese invasion, to prove
how fatal it would be to the enacters of these atrocities. Without any
great cessation, their operations were carried on down to the end of
1873, and it does not appear that Yakoob Beg derived any benefit
whatever from these costly and remote undertakings. Although the Tungan
chiefs of Urumtsi and Hamil were on several occasions defeated by the
armies of the Athalik Ghazi, their cities were never occupied, and they
consequently escaped that desolation which stretched from the walls of
Kucha to the regions north of Lake Lob. Chightam, a small town lying
half way between Turfan and Hamil, was the extreme point to which the
Kashgarian forces penetrated. The noble families of Urumtsi, Turfan, and
Hamil were almost totally destroyed in the fall of Turfan; and their
place in their own cities was seized by Tungan generals and adventurers,
who began to retreat westward from Kansuh, on the rumours of Chinese
preparations for invading Jungaria.
The wars against the Tungani certainly served one useful purpose in
enabling Yakoob Beg to collect a large and disciplined force round his
standard; but the attractions of service in his army lost much of their
value in the eyes of the hardier clans of Turkestan and the neighbouring
states, when it became known that the prospect of loot and prize money
in districts impoverished by several years of hostilities had
diminished. The rigour of the discipline maintained, too, was irksome to
nomads and irregulars accustomed to the easier service and freedom from
restraint of the other Asiatic princes; and during the later years of
his rule there were many desertions, and a difficulty was encountered in
inducing recruits to enter his army. The old practice, employed with
such success in the earlier years of his rule, of inducing the conquered
to combine with the conqueror, was no longer possible, for
extermination had become the order of the day. The Usbegs, Kirghiz, and
other tribes, could not supply in sufficient numbers the requirements of
the state, and the Tungani, who should have comprised the largest
portion of the subjects of the Athalik Ghazi, were coerced into
subjection with an undiscriminating severity. The result was really a
paralysis through sheer want of people, and it was not known until the
hour of trial came how weakened his forces had become. Every inducement
was held forth to Afghan, Badakshi, and, above all, to Indian soldiers
to join, but these, although they formed a nucleus of trustworthy and
efficient soldiers, were far too few to constitute a formidable army. We
are justified in assuming from the facts that these Tungan wars,
conducted in an unsparing manner, were the greatest mistake that marked
the career of Yakoob Beg. So far as his occupation of Kucha goes, he
could at least say that he had secured a valuable prize. He had acquired
every part of what could be considered Kashgar, and his kingdom was
effectually guarded, and his revenues prospectively increased, by the
possession of the great cities of Aksu and Kucha. He might exclaim with
justice that he had eclipsed all his predecessors in military prowess,
and if he had been wise he would then have turned his attention to the
well government of his state, and by so doing have demonstrated that he
was of a higher capacity for ruling a people, as well as for commanding
an army, than any Khoja prince of the past. Had he abstained from
prosecuting with such unflagging persistency his inveterate dislike of
the Tungani, he might easily have come to terms with his neighbours, and
the harm they could have done him would have been infinitesimally small.
But the chief advantage of that more prudent policy would have been
visible when the Chinese advanced to chastise the Tungani. Not only
would the Tungani have been more capable of resisting the Khitay, not
only would Manas and Urumtsi have been capable of offering a more
determined defence, but the Tungani could have retired on Turfan, and
held the country round that town, as well as Karashar and Korla, for a
protracted period against General Kin Shun. The Athalik Ghazi with
untouched resources could have awaited with just confidence the advance
of the Chinese upon his strong frontier city of Kucha, and, as the
Chinese accomplished the difficult task of crushing the Tungani, he
would have had the satisfaction of knowing that in all probability the
Chinese effort would have been spent before it reached his own borders.
It is impossible to judge men except by the results of their actions,
and the result of Yakoob Beg's incessant and unnecessary interference
with the Tungani was that the Chinese army was able in a few months to
dissipate the remaining Tungan communities, and to encounter in the full
flush of their triumph the numerically weaker forces of Yakoob Beg. It
is, therefore, impossible to exonerate the ruler from great blame in
hastily undertaking operations which a little consideration ought to
have shown to be unwise. Having traced Yakoob Beg's wars with the
Chinese Mahomedans, it is time to consider his rule of Kashgaria proper,
and the events that during these years were transpiring in other
quarters of the state.