CHAPTER XI

KHOTAN THE KINGDOM OF JADE

There is no article of traffic more valuable than lumps of a certain

transparent kind of marble, which we, from poverty of language,

usually call jasper. These marbles are called by the Chinese

Iusce.[3]--BENEDICT GOES, 1603 A.D.

To Mrs. St. George Littledale belongs the distinction of being the

first English, if not European, woman to enter the town of Khotan,

and I felt proud at being the next to follow in her footsteps. We had

travelled over three hundred miles from Kashgar to this farthest city

in the East of Chinese Turkestan, and hundreds of miles of desert lay

between it and any place of importance in the Celestial Empire. A broad

sandy road shaded by trees led to the capital, broken only by the wide

stony bed of the Karakash River, the three branches of which we forded

with ease, since much of the water had been drawn off for irrigation

purposes into a broad canal.

_Khan Sahib_ Badrudin, the British Agent, a fine-looking old man in a

long coat of rich brocade and a snowy turban, met us and, dismounting

from his showy horse, conducted us to the usual _dasturkhwan_. We were

told that he wielded great power in the city. He was so frank and

hearty that I took to him on the spot, and after running the gauntlet

of the other receptions, we were conducted by him to his newly built

and elaborately ornamented garden-house. During our tour we had the

good fortune to be quartered in three entirely new residences, which

any traveller who knows the dirt and squalor of the East will recognise

as no small boon.

Badrudin’s “garden,” in common with all that I saw, was intersected

with irrigation channels, had no paths, and was planted with a

confused, ill-grown mass of fruit trees, so crowded together that

his orchard produced a very indifferent crop. Flowers are usually

conspicuous by their absence in these pleasaunces, although one

sometimes comes across zinnias, asters and marigolds, but to me their

redeeming feature was the _shefang_, and at Khotan the open-air parlour

was a particularly large and handsome one, curtained round with muslin

that ensured some privacy without excluding the air.

The trees surrounding it were the roosting-place of hundreds of small

birds, and about five o’clock every evening they would appear in a

large flock and a fearful squabbling would ensue, caused, I imagined,

by their desire to take possession of one another’s pet twigs. After

half an hour they settled down, and only a few drowsy murmurs would be

heard as one bird or another made a sleepy remark.

At Khotan I was anxious to replenish our butter-jars, but fear that no

one will believe me when I say that the united efforts of five cows

during two days only resulted in a single pound of butter! There is no

grazing in these oases, and the animals are allowed on the fields only

when the crops have been gathered, their usual feed being a bundle of

lucerne, fresh or dried according to the season, a meagre dietary not

conducive to a plentiful supply of milk.

My brother, as in all towns, was busy in receiving and returning

official visits and in settling cases, some of which had been in

abeyance for years. One of these interested me particularly, as I was

brought into touch with it in a way. It was concerned with righting

a widow whose relatives were trying to defraud her of property that

justly belonged to her, and the poor soul waylaid me as I was returning

from a ride and, seizing my hand, kissed it repeatedly, with loud

lamentations that went to my heart. When justice had been done, and

she was reinstated, the old lady came to my brother to express her

gratitude, which she evinced by kissing the hem of his riding-coat, to

his great embarrassment.

I had visitors of my own, as Badrudin’s three wives, accompanied by his

eldest son, wearing a suit of would-be British cut, called upon me.

The chief wife was a handsome Afghan lady, her eyebrows painted with

antimony in order to make them meet across her forehead, and as she

spoke Persian we got on well together. She had plenty of character,

and it was evident that she kept the other wives in due subjection.

Despite the heat the ladies wore rich velvet jackets and had gold or

silver braid on the brims of their velvet hats, and long white shawls

shrouding them from head to foot. They enjoyed sampling the cakes and

biscuits that I provided for tea, and liked seeing the curios that we

had bought in the town, some quaint jade monkeys throwing them all into

convulsions of laughter and most effectually breaking the ice between

my visitors and myself. As a result I felt quite at home with them when

I went next day to return their call, merely passing through a door

in the wall of our garden into theirs, where I found them installed in

a shabby old house very different from the gorgeous edifice in which

we had our quarters, and which I suspected would be entirely reserved

for the men of the household when we departed. Owing to the emigration

of the men, the women, as at Kashgar and Yarkand, are in great

preponderance, and here, as throughout Chinese Turkestan, the cheapness

of marriage encourages frequent divorce and so lowers the status of the

wives.

But, on the other hand, the women mix freely with the men, sell their

wares in the bazars and practically dispense with the face-veil. It may

be that the superior freedom enjoyed by the women of Khotan centuries

ago has been handed down to their descendants. According to Rémusat,

the Chinese writers remark again and again that the women mixed with

the men even when strangers were present, and rode like the men on

horses and camels. It is curious to note that over a thousand years ago

the women wore the long coats and trousers and plaited their hair just

as they do at the present day, the hair of yaks’ tails being used then

as now to thicken and lengthen these tresses, which are adorned with

gold or silver tassels.

Badrudin rode out with us one morning to see Ilchi, as the inhabitants

call their city, and I thought that the people looked as sickly as

those of Yarkand. Goitre was very prevalent, and there were, alas, many

idiots to be seen, both the bodily and the mental afflictions being

probably caused by the limited supply of water, which is kept in tanks,

a sure method in the East of propagating disease.

[Illustration: BEGGARS AT THE GATE. _Page 212._]

Three years before our visit a large part of the principal bazar had

been destroyed by fire, and our host had lost many shops on this

occasion; but the visitation was a blessing in disguise, for neat

wooden stalls with well-made shutters had been built in place of the

former dirty, untidy booths. We were taken to see the principal mosques

and shrines, architecturally beneath notice and all very shabby in

appearance, and beyond the bazar was the dismantled mud brick fort

erected by Yakub Beg. Separated from the old native town was the

modern China-town, walled in and dominated by a fort, and on all sides

stretched the well-watered oasis. Maize, barley, millet, buckwheat,

rice, cotton, hemp, grapes, peaches, melons and mulberries were grown

in abundance, while the numberless irrigation channels were planted

with poplars and willows which serve as fuel.

Khotan is famous for its silks and felts, its cotton cloth, carpets,

paper and jade, but the modern silk carpets with their aniline dyes are

not artistic, and the few old ones to be found command an exorbitant

price. In Rockhill’s _Life of the Buddha_ there is a curious legend

relating to the introduction of the silk industry into the province.

A king of Khotan married a Chinese princess, who wished to benefit

the country of her adoption by teaching its inhabitants how to make

silk. She had brought the eggs of the silkworm with her, concealed

in her hat, as one version has it; but the Chinese ministers, who

were determined that Cathay should retain the monopoly of a lucrative

trade, told the credulous king that the harmless worms would turn into

venomous serpents and ravage the land. The monarch in a panic commanded

the rearing-house to be burnt down; but his wife managed to save some

of the caterpillars, and later on appeared in beautiful garments woven

from their silk. Her husband, realizing that he had been duped by the

Chinese, repented of his foolish act and thenceforth warmly fostered an

industry that greatly contributed to the prosperity of his kingdom.

Silk is said to have been made in China from remote ages, for it is

recorded that to the wife of an emperor who reigned about 21,640 B.C.

(_sic_) belongs the credit of inventing the loom; but the secret was

guarded so jealously that centuries passed before the industry took

root in Khotan and Central Asia. At the commencement of the Christian

era raw silk was literally worth its weight in gold, and we read that

the Emperor Justinian had a monopoly of the costly stuff and set up

weaving-looms in his palace. The story goes that he persuaded two

Persian monks to bring him the precious eggs from Cathay at the risk

of their lives, for death would have been the penalty had the Chinese

discovered the contents of the hollow bamboo staff which they carried

to Byzantium about A.D. 550. Khotan is believed to be the district from

which those eggs and the great silk industry of Europe actually came,

and only at the present day has it been necessary to procure a fresh

supply of the former from the East to renew the original stock brought

across the desert so many centuries ago.

It was interesting to visit the chief silk factory of Khotan, where

thousands of pale yellow cocoons were being boiled in big cauldrons,

in defiance of the command of the Chinese princess, who said that such

a proceeding was a sin against the light, and would be followed by a

silkworm famine during the following year. Beside these vats women

were squatting who deftly picked a thread from each cocoon, unwinding

it until it was ready to be handed on to other women sitting beside

primitive spinning-wheels, who wound the threads off upon a spool.

From small reels the shining silk was wound on to large ones, and

finally it was hung up in thick hanks of delicious creamy colour, ready

for export. The native-woven silk is coarse in texture and dull when

compared with that produced from European looms, but when dyed with

deep vegetable colourings it has an indescribably rich appearance, and

much of it is exported to India.

_Yu_ is the Chinese name for jade or nephrite, and Yu-tien or Khotan

signifies Kingdom of Jade; therefore I was naturally anxious to obtain

all the information I could about this stone, which is valued above all

others in China and is even spoken of as “the quintessence of Heaven

and Earth.” The jade of Khotan has been known to the Chinese for over

two thousand years. Rémusat points out that there are references to

it as far back as 140 B.C., and it was often sent as tribute from the

rulers of the province to the Emperor of China.

One Chinese author compares a wise man to jade, affirming that both

have five of the same good qualities, and another talks of the

different colours of the stone, saying it is red as the comb of a cock,

yellow as a cooked chestnut, and so on. Again, a third writer affirms

that it gives forth light and a perfume, and others speak of its weight

and of the way in which it can be imitated and how easily it can be

dyed.

In popular belief the Jade River was separated into three branches

that carried down the white, black and green varieties respectively

from the mines situated at its source; and in bygone days the King of

Khotan used to inaugurate the “Jade Harvest,” or season of the year

when his subjects began to fish in the streams for the precious stone.

This beautiful mineral is found in veins running through rocks of

schist or gneiss, and is of almost every shade of white, grey, green,

yellow, or black. Until the recent revolution it was worn profusely by

the royalties and their courtiers, and was buried with the dead in the

form of bracelets and amulets, a carved bowl, screen or goblet being

a choice gift for the Emperor to send to a ruling sovereign, in which

connection a jade screen presented to Queen Victoria was valued at

£300,000 by English experts.

Badrudin took us into the town to see the jade workers turning cups

on lathes and polishing them by means of sand. On the ground lay some

small dull green boulders, the stone in its raw state, and I was told

that, had they been white flecked with green, they would have fetched

between two and three hundred pounds apiece. After the white, the

yellow is the most highly prized, and then comes the green and lastly

the black, for which the famous cenotaph of Tamerlane at Samarkand is

renowned. But alas, since the revolution the royal stone is no longer

popular in China, and the export to Peking has practically ceased. To

counterbalance this there is a small demand for it in India, where

it is bought by the British; but so low has the industry fallen that

my brother and I could not procure nearly as many cups as we wished.

The best that we found were a transparent black speckled with moss

green, most beautiful when held up to the light; but only four of

these goblets could be bought, and the rest of our purchases were in

an attractive dull reseda green that reminded me of sea-water in its

translucent delicacy.

One day we rode out to inspect the old jade pits several miles to

the east of the city, Badrudin supplying us with horses, as our own

always enjoyed a well-earned rest whenever we halted. He and his son

escorted us through the Oasis to the broad stone-strewn bed of the

Yurungkash or White Jade River, which we easily forded. We then trotted

and cantered along sandy paths between the high mud walls of countless

gardens. Our goal was a wide tract, formerly a river-bed, now a series

of pits ringed with boulders, the result of digging for jade during the

centuries. The sand-dunes of the great desert had crept to the edge of

the masses of rubble, among which our horses painfully stumbled as we

examined the so-called mines, holes about a dozen feet in depth. It is

at that distance from the surface that the blocks of jade washed down

in bygone days are to be found, the jade obtained from the mines being

soft and inferior in quality. Few finds of value are made nowadays,

and all good pieces are sent direct to Peking, the Khotan craftsmen

being unable to execute the carving for which the Chinese are famous.

The glory of Khotan was its jade, and it was owing to the high esteem

in which the Chinese held this stone that we hear so much about the

province from the early pilgrims and travellers.

When the Chinese travellers Fa-hien and Hiuen Tsiang visited the

province, in the fifth and seventh centuries respectively, there were

many towns in the kingdom which are now buried beneath the desert sand,

and according to the accounts of both pilgrims there were a hundred

Buddhist monasteries in the Oasis. It appears that the Khotanis

were not whole-hearted followers of the Master, for we hear that the

adherents to Buddhism were violently persecuted towards the end of

the ninth century, by those that worshipped spirits; but the religion

lingered on until it was finally extinguished by Islam, which swept

like a great wave through Chinese Turkestan.

On the day that we left Ilchi we made a _détour_ in order to visit the

site of Yotkan, which was the capital of the province a thousand years

ago. Old Badrudin led us a zigzag course round low-walled fields, and

after four or five miles announced that we had reached our goal. We

then dismounted and scrambled down a muddy slope on to a stretch of

cultivated ground at the foot of a low cliff. This latter had been

cut through by a _yar_, or ravine created by the action of the water

which had escaped from an irrigation canal, and this _yar_ revealed

bits of gold and _débris_ of all kinds on its banks. Sir Aurel Stein,

who began his famous excavations with the investigation of this site,

points out that without this fortunate accident the city so often

mentioned in the Chinese annals might never have been discovered.

The inhabitants of the village close by immediately began to dig for

treasure, washing the earth for gold, and by their efforts the fields

had been lowered several feet, because the strata containing the finds

were some thirteen feet beneath the surface. Sir Aurel Stein discovered

no remains of buildings, but was not surprised at this, for mud

bricks crumble away in the course of centuries; and it also occurred

to me that perhaps the peasants may follow the custom of the Persian

cultivator, who uses the _débris_ of ruins as a dressing for his crops.

Moreover, as the fields lying on the site of Yotkan were irrigated,

the action of the water would soon disintegrate any buildings

constructed of sun-dried bricks. The fact that the soil lies to-day

some nine to twenty feet above the old capital is due to the system of

irrigation; for the water let in over the fields carries much silt with

it. The roads throughout all the oases in Turkestan are from this cause

much lower than the fields, while the cemeteries, not being cultivated,

are at about the same level as the roads.

Badrudin told us the current legend that Yotkan had been destroyed by

a great flood which overwhelmed both the city and its inhabitants,

but Sir Aurel Stein shows this theory to be untenable, although he

apparently offers no other to account for the desertion of what was an

important city ten centuries ago.

Our host showed us various interesting objects found on the spot, a

beautiful terra-cotta vase with a Buddha on either side being the

chief, together with tiny terra-cotta figurines and a white jade ring.

I was told that the Chinese archers wear these rings on their little

fingers to keep them from being cut when they twang their bows. Sir

Aurel Stein bought a tiny monkey made of gold, and says that there is

still a small but profitable yield of the precious metal in the form of

gold-leaf, which was used extensively to decorate the Buddhist temples

and statues. Fa-hien mentions the splendour of these shrines and their

attendant monasteries in the fifth century, and Rémusat gives details

of the gorgeous ceremonial worship.

When we left Yotkan we rode to Zawa, where we rested, in anticipation

of the night march across the desert to the serai of Ak Langar. In

spite of our protests, genial old Badrudin insisted on accompanying us

thus far on our homeward way, and it was not till half-past eight that

night that with sincere regret we said good-bye to him. The moon, now

in its third quarter, had not risen, and our late host did us a final

good office by sending his body-servant ahead of our party, carrying a

little native lamp of classic design with two wicks hanging from its

spout. He proved a most useful torch-bearer, for the darkness under the

trees of the oasis seemed impenetrable at first, and he pointed out

the many small bridges and irrigation channels over which our horses

might have come to grief in the all-pervading gloom. Time and again the

feeble light seemed about to be extinguished by the breeze, but it held

out until we were free of the village, and we were then put in charge

of a Chinese runner who was to be our guide across the sand-dunes. The

British Agent’s trusty henchman now dismounted, kissed my brother’s

knee in token of farewell and, to my astonishment, actually _wept_,

though I cynically reflected that this emotion must be due rather to

the amount of his _pourboire_ than to affection for the British Consul.

Half an hour later the moon cast a faint gleam across the desert,

and we walked our horses in the track of the tall, wiry guide who

kept ahead of us all the time, now and then breaking into a run when

he reached the crest of a dune or descending it with great leaps.

Our horses certainly walked at the rate of four miles an hour on an

average, but the _ya-yieh_ did the ten miles to the serai without

turning a hair and arrived in better condition than I did. I had had a

fatiguing day; for there is always much to do when setting off again

after a longish halt, and, counting the distance to and from Yotkan,

I had ridden nearly forty miles. This in itself was nothing, as I

loved being in the saddle; but it was trying to set off on a _second_

march at the hour when I was usually making ready for bed, and I felt

grateful to the pure tonic air of the desert that made me feel as fit

as ever on the morrow.

Having retraced our steps to Yarkand, we made a _détour_ by way of

Merket, my brother being anxious to see that part of the country and

to shoot some of the pheasants named after Shaw. We and our horses

were again punted across the main stream of the river, and then had to

ride warily, following defined tracks in order to escape the dangerous

quicksands, and when we forded branches of the stream we avoided

places where stakes protruding from the water warned us of holes or

treacherous sands. It was rather a relief to clamber out upon the loess

banks of the river, from which we had picturesque glimpses of sandy

islets on which duck and water-birds were feeding, and I remember the

delicious perfume of the melons that were laid out to dry in a field

close to our encampment for the night.

It was mid-October when we reached Merket, and my brother, who had had

many disappointments as to the duck-shooting he had been promised,

felt his hopes revive as the natives spoke of a lake some four miles

off which simply teemed with water-fowl. I suppose it is inbred in

Orientals to say what they think will please a superior; the peasants

at all events were seemingly unconcerned as to whether their statements

were accurate or not. On this occasion, for example, the so-called lake

turned out to be a small marsh, dried up by the summer heats and with

never a sign of bird-life among its withered rushes. This was rather

a blow; but, on making enquiry about game at a prosperous-looking

village that lay outside one of the wide belts of stunted trees through

which the sandy road led, we heard that the jungle was swarming with

pheasants. A party of beaters was improvised on the spot, and my

brother went off full of hope, while I rode slowly on with old Jafar

Bai and the one-legged Hindu trader, having agreed to halt for our

mid-day meal a couple of miles farther on. And now the Hindu began to

play the well-known game of dangling a lure before the European, the

bait in my case being water. He professed that he knew every inch of

the road and that a refreshing stream was close at hand; but, when

we had ridden considerably farther than the stipulated distance, I

revolted, and stopping in the shade of the trees ordered lunch to be

served as soon as Sattur and his _mapa_ arrived. Hardly had I finished

when the sporting party cantered up with the disheartening news that

they had not seen a single pheasant. It was a day of disappointments;

for, as we were riding into camp, a servant rushed up with the news

that wild-duck were in abundance on a lake near which we had passed.

Hope again revived, and off my brother went, but, as usual, after

a _fata Morgana_. This day is a sample of many. During our halt at

Merket my brother shot only two or three of the Shaw pheasants, and

he had no luck when he rode off at five o’clock in the morning to

watch the great hunting eagles bring down gazelle, although they made

successful flights at hares. Probably the scarcity of game is owing to

the fact that the country is comparatively thickly populated and

well-cultivated, and that many of the peasants are sportsmen and have

no scruples as to close seasons.

[Illustration: A DULANI _SHAYKH_. _Page 222._]

Just outside the village my brother was met by an old greybeard who

saluted in military style, and it turned out that he had been formerly

in a Panjabi regiment, and had been sent into Turkestan with letters

for Dalgleish, whose murder resounded through Central Asia a generation

ago.

Merket is interesting as being the home of the Dulanis, supposed

to be Kirghiz who settled on the land a couple of centuries ago

when the Kalmucks ruled the province. These people are remarkable

as being Moslems who mix freely with their women, the latter going

about unveiled, and eating, dancing and singing with the men at

entertainments which often last the whole night long. They have a

great reputation as singers, and one morning we were favoured with a

performance, the songster being a tall greybeard clad in a long red

robe and a sheepskin cap. He beat on a tambourine-like instrument,

throwing his head into the air and emitting tremendously long-drawn

notes and then taking breath in deep gasps, much as the Germans

sing their _Lieder_ in Lutheran churches. His songs seemed full of

repetition, he made fearful grimaces, and as he yelled at the top of

his voice, I was not surprised that after a while he became hoarse.

His companion played a _rubab_, a stringed instrument much like a

mandoline, the plectrum being a bit of wood, and crowds of villagers

gathered to hear the performance, to which they listened in enraptured

silence; for we were told that the singer was renowned throughout the

district.

Iftikhar Ahmad kindly translated for me two of his songs, which run as

follows:

If I say that I am a Mohamedan and do not keep the commands of Allah

How shall I escape punishment when I am laid in the dark grave?

No young girls will dance at my bidding.

They have blackened their eyebrows with _kohl_ and refuse to bow down

before the youths.

The second is the lament of a love-sick maiden:

1

Oh, my beloved, fresh coloured as an apple,

I entrust thee to the keeping of Allah until we meet again.

2

Oh, that I could ride to Aksu on my white horse newly-shod,

Or could see thee, my love, walking beside the river.

3

I am feeble as a rush, I am in the power of a giant;

I cannot sleep at night and am forced to think of thee all day long.

4

Alas, my love has gone from me in anger and how shall I persuade him

to forgive me?

I will place tea[4] before him and by dancing and smiling I will make

my peace with him.

The Merket bazar was one of the poorest and most squalid I had seen in

the course of my travels, and was in curious contrast to the apparent

prosperity of the large oasis. The inhabitants, who hovered about our

camp all day long, were certainly of a lower type than the ordinary

villagers of Chinese Turkestan, but as far as I could judge they did

not merit the scathing condemnation of one writer, who says: “These

people are in the most backward state of human intelligence that it

is possible to imagine human beings to be capable of. In physical

strength and stature they are perhaps the most miserable objects on the

face of the earth, but their social position is still more deplorable

...”

[Illustration: DULANI MUSICIANS. _Page 224._]

When we left Merket we plunged into sand covered with low tamarisk

scrub and the _toghrak_ tree, _populus heterophyllus_, peculiar, I

understand, to Chinese Turkestan, which looks like a cross between the

willow and the poplar. When this tree is quite young all the leaves are

pinnated, like those of the willow; at an older stage the upper part

has the poplar leaf, and when it is full-grown there is no trace of the

narrow willow-like leaf, which has dropped off. It was now mid-October

and the foliage was a brilliant gold, bright as the trees in a Canadian

fall, but without the flaming scarlets of the maple and oak of the

Dominion.

We and our belongings had to cross the Yarkand River again in one of

the clumsy ferry-boats, and the vigorous-looking boatman was obliged to

make such Herculean efforts to pole his unwieldy craft round that I was

not surprised to learn that men of his calling contract heart complaint

from the strain.

The ferryman’s wife, a handsome young woman, charmingly clad in a

rainbow-striped coat and a green velvet gold-embroidered cap, watched

her husband’s progress, and I was told that she was a Dulani. Certainly

she looked a credit to her tribe, as she strolled about unconcernedly

among the men, with many of whom she exchanged greetings. Her bare

feet were thrust into the overshoes that all wear over the long

riding-boots, and her big silver earrings added to the picturesqueness

of her appearance. I was seated on a felt beside a table heaped with

grapes and melons, and smiled at her as she gradually edged up to me

on pretence of flicking the flies off the fruit. She held her pretty

little boy by the hand, the child all too warmly clad in a padded red

coat and fur cap, and a small gift unsealed her lips, putting us on

such friendly terms that she was delighted to be photographed by the

first European woman she had ever seen.

And now we turned our backs on the Yarkand River and were piloted

across sandy tracks and rode through barren spaces dotted with

tamarisk, towards the dunes of a strip of desert, the loose sand of

which made the going heavy for our horses. The sun sank at half-past

five and, as is usual in the East, there was hardly any twilight, but

by the waning moonlight we could see the track as we plodded along, our

horses snorting suspiciously and starting at isolated tamarisk bushes

or stunted _toghrak_ trees. At last we surmounted a dune and saw below

us a deserted mud building and the gleam of a pool of water, indicating

the goal of our march. To me there was something curiously eerie in the

scene; for the moonlight cast strange shadows, and the desert seemed as

if it were listening for I knew not what, reminding me of Meredith’s

lines:

I neighbour the invisible

So close that my consent

Is only asked for spirits masked

To leap from trees and flowers.

The servants and horses had disappeared round the ruined rest-house,

and I had a queer sense that things seldom seen by mortal eyes would

have revealed themselves had I been quite alone. I remember strolling

up to a largish _toghrak_ tree, under which a little tent was to be

pitched for me, and what was perhaps a big rat ran down the bark with

incredible speed and seemed to vanish, and later on, as my brother

and I walked back along the road to listen for the _mapa_ which was

to bring Sattur and our evening meal, some creature, probably a fox,

noiselessly rushed past us like a flash, giving the impression of being

a shadow rather than anything material.

[Illustration: A DULANI WOMAN AND HER SON. _Page 226._]

The water here was brown and bitter and smelt so disagreeably that

neither we nor our animals could quench our thirst. When the waggons

came up they made only a short halt and went on at 2 A.M., and we

ourselves followed soon after, as we were anxious to water our horses,

not to mention our own thirst.

The usual early morning breeze changed to a wind that blew up clouds

of sand; therefore we pushed forward as fast as we could, in case a

real sandstorm should overtake us. This particular tract of desert is

called _Karakum_ or Black Sand, and I imagined that the name must be

some kind of native joke, as the sand was particularly white. We rode

on hour after hour and were thankful finally to reach a serai, before

which stood a trough full of water. My chestnut was so impatient to

quench his thirst that he kicked my ankle as I dismounted, presumably

to hasten my movements. He was always a bad-tempered animal--_Shaitan_

(Satan) the grooms called him--snapping with his ears laid back at any

human being or animal within reach; but in spite of this he was my

favourite on the march, as none of our other horses could rival his

elastic walk and easy canter. I was thankful that he had not started

kicking earlier in our acquaintance; for on every subsequent occasion

that I rode him he lashed out at me as I slipped from the saddle, and

in order to save me from a broken ankle my brother was obliged to hold

up his fore-leg; so perforce I changed to another mount.

There are many advantages in travelling officially, transport and

supply being thus made easy, but never before had roads and bridges

been mended in honour of our arrival, as was the case in the Merket

district. The highway was dotted at intervals with parties of peasants

who were piling earth over the many holes in the bridges, and driving

rows of stakes into the ground along the irrigation channels where

the road had broken away. These stakes would then be padded with

maize-bents, reeds or tamarisk scrub, and plastered over with thick

lumps of wet mud. This method of road-making, which prevails throughout

Chinese Turkestan, is by no means an ideal one, for when the earth and

padding fall away the points of the props stick out in a manner most

dangerous to horses if going at any pace.

The glorious weather we had had on the whole was now changing, and,

after a gale so violent that our tents that night seemed to be in

danger every moment, we became aware of the approach of winter. The sun

had vanished, a grey veil lay over the landscape, and there was black

frost in the air. The villagers had donned their padded red, black or

blue long winter coats, those of the women being often striped in many

colours, and all wore their pork-pie hats of velvet or cloth edged with

fur or sheepskin and looked cold and miserable. Jafar Bai amused us by

pointing out a shady spot where we could eat our mid-day lunch, with

his usual formula, “Here you will find shelter from the sun,” although

he himself had told us that it was now the season of the storms that

herald in the winter.

October 20 was the _id_, or festival to commemorate the sacrifice of

_Ishmael_ by Abraham (so the Koran has it, quite ignoring the Isaac of

the Bible), and our servants were naturally eager to arrive at Kashgar

on the previous evening, the _id_ being an occasion of feasting as well

as of prayer in the mosques.

As usual we suffered from the vague ideas of the natives concerning

distances, and the so-called twenty-mile ride, that was to bring us

within easy reach of Kashgar, dragged out to a thirty-mile march,

which, to me at all events, was peculiarly dreary. It lay along sandy

tracks crossing great stretches of crumbling salt-encrusted soil, with

here and there a reed-covered lake or swamp that alternated with strips

of cultivation. The grey mist hung round us, hiding villages and trees

until we arrived quite close to them, and seeming to enclose us in a

ghostly world with a curiously depressing atmosphere of its own. I felt

as if we were in one of Maeterlinck’s plays, so heavily did a sense of

impending disaster weigh upon me, in spite of vigorous struggles on

the part of my common-sense. No misfortune overtook us save that the

servants were deprived of the eve of their festival; for my brother

decreed that, _id_ or no _id_, we should halt for the night by a broad

canal running parallel with the Kizil Su. It was well that he did so;

for all our horses were tired out, and next day, even with the stimulus

of their homes ahead of them, they could scarcely manage the twenty

miles that lay between our last camp and Kashgar. Delightful as our

tour had been, it was very pleasant to be in a clean, well-built house

once more, and to be welcomed effusively by Bielka and Brownie. I

was thankful to see them both in good condition, as well as the sweet

little desert lark in its round cage.

Khotan, with its silk and jade, the desert, and the Yarkand River,

receded into the background; for in about six weeks’ time we should be

leaving Kashgar for good, and setting our faces towards Europe and home.

Indeed, I was not altogether sorry, for at first after our return

Kashgar, enveloped in a frosty grey mist, was sunless and cold, and

the revel of colour that the Kashgaris had displayed in their garments

during the summer had gone. Fortunately in this part of the world

the winter is short; for the houses are not designed to keep out the

cold, and the people are too poor to heat them. Fuel is so dear that

it is used only for cooking, and during the day the natives usually

sit huddled up in sheltered spots and bask in the sunshine, which

luckily does not fail them for long at a time. From December 22 to the

beginning of February is called the “Forty Days of the Great Cold,” and

it is followed by the “Little Cold,” which lasts about twenty days.

It has sometimes happened, when a wind blew during the “Great Cold,”

that peasants coming in to market on their donkeys have been frozen to

death. In consequence of this the Chinese have passed a law that, if

any one demands shelter at a house during this period and dies because

the door is shut against him, the inhospitable owner of that house is

to be tried for murder.

We had enjoyed the very best of the year, and were fortunate to leave

without seeing Kashgar at its worst, graphically described by Lord

Dunmore, thus: “It is as desolate, dirty and uninteresting looking

a city as can possibly be imagined ... a series of yawning abysses;

roads full of gaping chasms ... tumbledown mud houses, obsolete mud

cemeteries.... [The town is] always either swimming in mud or smothered

in dust, and what offends the eye still more is the one uniform

melancholy tint of dirty drab that pervades the whole picture....”

To me it will always remain a most picturesque and interesting place,

embowered in foliage, surrounded by water and gilded by sunshine, while

its brilliantly clad, pleasant-mannered inhabitants greatly contributed

to its charm.

* * * * *

Sir George Macartney arrived in November and we again started off

through Central Asia and Northern Europe, reaching home about a month

later, when the War, with its urgent claims upon every man and woman,

took possession of our thoughts and energies. But I shall never forget

the wonderful sunsets of Kashgar seen through a haze of gold, or the

glorious dome of Muztagh Ata, the immense sweep of the desert over

which the moon and stars hung like lamps in a sky of sapphire velvet,

and the friendly races, Turki or Kirghiz, who added so greatly to the

pleasure of my last experience of the Open Road.

PART II

CHAPTER XII

THE GEOGRAPHY, GOVERNMENT AND COMMERCE OF CHINESE TURKESTAN

Le Turkestan est pour les Chinois une position stratégique et un

excellent débouché pour l’aristocratie mandarine qui ne trouve

plus assez de places disponibles dans la vieille Chine. C’est tout

simplement une bonne terre de pâture pour engraisser une portion

notable du troupeau administrateur--GRENARD, _La Haute Asie_, ii. 273.

Hsin-Chiang, or “the New Province,” as the Chinese term it, includes

the province now generally known as Chinese Turkestan, together with

Urumchi and other districts situated to the north of the Tian Shan

which lie outside the scope of this work. The province we are dealing

with has had many names, such as Lesser Bokhara, Moghulistan, Tartary,

High Tartary, Eastern Turkestan, the Six Cities and Kashgaria, the last

four names having been in use until quite recently.

The country is a vast plain, measuring about 1000 miles from east to

west and about half that distance from north to south. Its altitude

is some 4000 feet in the west, and decreases steadily as it stretches

eastwards, until at Turfan an area lying below sea-level is found. The

physical boundaries are definite, being formed by some of the loftiest

mountains in the world. To the north runs the Tian Shan; to the west

lies the Kizil Art, holding up the Pamirs, those elevated valleys of

High Asia; on the south are the lofty Kara Koram and Kuen Lun ranges,

the latter being the Kasia Mountains of Ptolemy, bounding Serindia,

as he termed the province. The eastern boundary is the vast _Gobi_

or “Desert,” where Sir Francis Younghusband travelled for nearly one

thousand miles without seeing a house.

The Takla Makan desert, distinct from the Gobi, occupies the centre

of the country. From east to west this paralysing waste stretches for

500 miles, while its greatest breadth from north to south is half

that distance. It is indeed a Land of Death, covered with monstrous

sandhills, which overlie the ruins of great cities and dense forests

and represent the triumph of the wind, combined with desiccation, over

the patient industry of man. There are also smaller deserts, such as

that lying between Merket and Kashgar, which we crossed on our journey.

[Illustration: THE TIAN SHAN OR CELESTIAL MOUNTAINS. (Taken from the

West on the Osh-Kashgar route.) _Page 236._]

Chinese Turkestan may be described as a desert, or series of deserts,

fringed by oases forming a horseshoe, with the toe pointing west. In

Persia, except in the heart of the Lut, there are villages at intervals

all over the country, depending mainly on the underground irrigation

channels termed _kanats_, whereas in Chinese Turkestan, outside a few

large oases, more fertile than any areas in Persia, the desert is of

a more intense type, and rarely supports even a scanty covering of

bushes such as are usually found in Persia. Indeed the desert, with

its waves of sand advancing in regular lines and rising to the height

of perhaps one hundred feet, is the most noticeable feature of the

country, which is full of legends of the destruction through this

agency of many famous cities. The description of Hiuen Tsiang, the

great Chinese traveller, is worth quoting: “These sands extend like a

drifting flood for a great distance, piled up or scattered before the

wind. There is no trace left behind by travellers, and often-times the

way is lost, and so they wander hither and thither, quite bewildered,

without any guide or direction. There is neither water nor herbage to

be found, and hot winds frequently blow. When these winds rise, both

man and beast become confused and forgetful, and there they remain

perfectly disabled. At times, sad and plaintive notes are heard and

piteous cries, so that between the sights and sounds of this desert

men get confused and know not whither they go. Hence there are so many

who perish on the journey. But it is all the work of demons and evil

spirits.”[5]

It has been calculated that the area of the oases is rather less than

1½ per cent of the whole, so that if the deserts were taken away we

should have to deal with a very small stretch of habitable country.

As it is, we see oases, generally separated by miles of desert, all

producing wheat, barley and other essentials within their own limits,

and therefore needing but little communication with their neighbours,

from whom they want nothing and to whom they sell nothing. The result

is a state of general well-being, unprogressive in character and

tending to stagnation. The more one travels the more one realizes

how the progress and prosperity of a country depend upon good

communications and an abundant rainfall.

There is another point of view from which the detached oases have

affected the history of the region. They have never possessed enough

resources to support a powerful army; but, owing to their isolation

and proximity to the mountains, they were doomed to become the prey of

every powerful force which swept down from the undefended frontier and

took the cultivated areas in detail. The inhabitants have at no time

displayed military virtues, and are to-day singularly unwarlike.

Of the rivers of the province, the Yarkand, known in its upper reaches

as the Zarafshan, and lower down as the Tarim, is the most important.

It frequently changes its course, and is perhaps responsible for the

proverb, “A river, like a king, obeys no law.” Its chief tributaries

are the Ak Su from the north and the Khotan River from the south.

The Kizil Su or “Red River,” which flows through Kashgar, was also

in past times a tributary of the Yarkand River, but it now fails to

reach the main stream, for its water falls into the Lalmoi marsh below

Maralbashi. Other rivers do not even approach the Zarafshan, but lose

their waters in the sands.

It is a far cry from Egypt to Chinese Turkestan, but they are alike in

this, that both countries depend absolutely and entirely on rivers for

their life. As in Egypt, so in the basin of Chinese Turkestan, there is

no rainfall which counts; everything therefore depends on a full river.

The snowfall on the ranges affects the volume of water, which on the

whole is decreasing. “The Land of Withering Rivers” is the appropriate

title of a chapter dealing with this question in Huntington’s _The

Pulse of Asia_. Apart from this, a cold summer in the Pamirs, such as

occurred in 1915, may hinder the melting of the snows to such an extent

that very little water reaches Maralbashi, below Kashgar, during the

entire summer; and even in the Kashgar Oasis there was in that year a

distinct deficiency of irrigation water.

The climate of Chinese Turkestan is intensely continental. The province

is surrounded, as we have seen, by some of the highest ranges in the

world; we therefore find extremes of heat and cold. Kashgar, where

alone meteorological observations are taken, lies at an altitude

of 4277 feet, and it might be thought that in consequence of this

altitude, together with a latitude which is that of Central Spain, and

the proximity of snow-covered ranges, the summer would be short and

cool. Yet, mainly owing to the almost total absence of rainfall, the

three summer months have a mean maximum of 90° with a mean minimum of

62°. On the other hand, the three winter months have a mean maximum of

38° with a mean minimum of 17°, but it is to be noted that, owing to

the dryness, the cold is not severely felt. The scanty rainfall of only

3·34 inches is distributed over the whole year and is irregular. During

the spring and summer of 1915 no rain fell in Kashgar beyond a few

showers which were too light to record, but in the mountains the falls

of snow and rain were frequent, especially in June.

The Kashgar Oasis certainly merits the epithet of “windy” during the

spring. The storms blowing mainly from the west, or from the Takla

Makan, are generally accompanied by clouds of dust which envelop the

Oasis in a haze, and so prevalent is this condition that there are,

as already mentioned, only one hundred clear days in the year. This

disagreeable phenomenon was noted by _Mirza_ Haidar, who, in the early

part of the sixteenth century, wrote: “But Kashgar has also many

defects. For example, although the climate is very healthy, there are

continual storms of dust and sand, and violent winds charged with black

dust.”[6]

The population of Chinese Turkestan is estimated at about one million

and a half. It is almost entirely confined to the oases, chief of

which are Kashgar with 300,000, Yangi Shahr with 200,000, Yarkand

with 200,000, and Aksu and Khotan each with 190,000 inhabitants. The

population may also be grouped into two main classes as “settled” and

“nomadic,” with a small semi-nomadic division. The nomads, together

with the semi-nomads, do not aggregate more than 125,000 in all.

They inhabit the cold highlands, moving about in summer and winter

alike as their flocks exhaust the grazing, which is rich in summer

and scanty at other seasons. The Kirghiz, who are the leading nomads,

estimated to number 50,000, implicitly believe that their ancestor was

a Kazak Prince, Saghyon Khan by name. According to the legend, his

forty daughters were walking by a river one day when they remarked

foam covering its surface. From curiosity they all dipped their

fingers into the water, and thereby became pregnant, and the Kirghiz

claim to be the descendants of these “Forty Maidens” or _Kirk Kiz_.

This tradition evidently rests on a poor pun, but it proves that the

Kirghiz regard themselves as a branch of the Kazaks, or “Cossacks,”

as we write the word. They furthermore believe that the same Prince

had thirty sons, _Utuz Ughul_, whose descendants inhabit the Alai and

the country between it and the Ili province. In Chinese Turkestan the

principal Kirghiz tribes inhabiting the uplands between Kashgar and the

Taghdumbash Pamir are the Naiman, the Kapchak and the Tait. The Kirghiz

are all Moslems of the Sunni sect.

The Dulanis, whom we met in the Merket Oasis below Yarkand, are

another tribe of importance in the province. Their origin is called in

question, but they are akin to the Kirghiz, although they differ in

appearance owing to their sedentary life in a forest-covered country.

Their name is said to have been given them by a _Khoja_ monarch, who

termed them his _dulan_ or “two shoulders.” They live in miserable

shanties made of wood and are poor cultivators, relying more on their

flocks than on the produce of their land.

The semi-nomads include the Taghliks or “Highlanders,” who herd the

flocks belonging to the sedentary population. They spend the summer

in the mountains, but occupy huts or caves in the foot-hills during

the winter; these “Highlanders” are all Sunni Moslems. On the other

hand, the Mongols of Karashahr, who in numbers are about equal to the

Kirghiz, are all Buddhists.

In addition to the tribes already mentioned, there is a strong colony

of five thousand families of Tunganis, mainly immigrants from Central

China, Kansu and Shensi. As Sunni Mohamedans converted in the early

days of Islam they were hostile to the Chinese, and have rebelled

more than once; but during the recent Revolution they changed their

policy and supported the local authorities. In consequence they are now

being given posts in the government, and at the time of my visit the

commander of the troops at Khotan was a Tungani.

To conclude this enumeration, the Tajiks, who are Aryans from Farghana,

numbering 13,000, the Chinese 6000, the Indians 5000 and the Abdalis

1000, make up the population of Chinese Turkestan. The Abdalis claim

kinship with the Abdalis of Khorasan or Herat, now the Durranis. They

are locally believed to be the descendants of Yezid, the slayer of the

_Imam_ Husayn at Kerbela, and until the time of Yakub Beg’s rule are

said to have acted a play in which the Shias are reviled. Grenard,[7]

who studied this mysterious people, came to the conclusion that they

were the descendants of a Persian Shia colony, but Stein, whose

authority is superior, believes that they are Gipsies.

The province of Hsin-Chiang is ruled by a _Chiang Chun_[8] or

Provincial Governor, who resides at Urumchi. Under him are _Taoyin_,

or Governors, of Urumchi, Tarbagtai, Ili, Aksu and Kashgar. The

situation is complicated by the fact that the commander of the troops

in the districts south of the Tian Shan is independent of the Governor

of Urumchi, taking orders direct from Peking. Under the _Taoyin_ of

Kashgar, with which we are especially concerned, are _Hsien Yin_, or

Sub-Governors, of Khotan, Yarkand and other districts; there are also

officials appointed to deal with foreign affairs. The term _Amban_ is

applicable to all Chinese officials, and is used especially as a mark

of respect. The above-mentioned officials, constituting the superior

civil service, are all Chinese, but their subordinates, known as

_Begs_, _Ming Bashis_ and _Yuz Bashis_, are usually Moslems. The

_Begs_ are the local landowners and are generally men of considerable

influence, and to them is entrusted the collection of the taxes, the

administration of justice so far as minor cases are concerned, and the

arrangements for forced labour. The irrigation system is also in the

hands of the _Begs_, whose subordinates are elected by the cultivators

of the district.

[Illustration: THE TUNGANI COMMANDER OF THE TROOPS AT KHOTAN. _Page

242._]

The nomads are administered quite independently of the provincial

governors, by an official generally known as the Ili Tartar General,

who is the acknowledged head of the various tribal organisations.

Their taxes are one-fifteenth of the crop in the case of those who are

engaged in agriculture, and about the equivalent of three shillings per

100 sheep, or 10 horses, or 5 camels; cattle are not taxed.

The system sketched above, by which there are three independent

authorities in the province, is bad enough; but it is made infinitely

worse by the corruption which prevails, especially in the collection of

the revenue. On the other hand, the taxes are generally light, and the

condition of the people is one of acquiescence in Chinese domination.

The chief tax levied from the “settled” population is on land, which

for this purpose is divided into “well-irrigated” and “white” land.

The survey on which the revenue is raised was that fixed after the

final expulsion of the Khokandis and Andijanis, when less than one-half

of the land now cultivated was occupied. The tax is light, amounting

to one-tenth for the good land and one-fortieth for the bad land.

It is payable in grain; but, as the Chinese officials demand money,

the _Begs_ fix the rate high and share the difference with their

superiors. By this and other means the land tax is now increased to

about one-fifth of the crop; but prices have risen considerably of late

years, and when prices rule high the farmer makes money. Apart from

the land tax revenue is raised from registration of sales of land,

from _likin_ or internal customs, and from taxes on wine, salt, mills,

etc. Labour has also to be provided for public works and transport

for the use of troops. For the assessment of this impost the unit of

fifteen houses termed a _choka_ is taken, and each _choka_ provides a

labourer and a cart; building material, if required, is partly paid

for. Artisans, who are organized into guilds, are obliged, if required,

to work for Government on five days in each month, and receive the

equivalent of fourpence a day. In 1913 the revenue levied by the

_Taoyin_ of Kashgar was as follows:

Taels.

Land Tax 570,000

Tax on registration of land sales 200,000

Tax on sale of live stock 250,000

_Likin_ 180,000

Miscellaneous taxes on wine, salt, flour mills 100,000

---------

Taels 1,400,000

This sum, with the tael reckoned at 2s. 8d., is equivalent to £186,666.

The revenue is all ear-marked for local expenditure, 800,000 taels, or

rather more than one-half of the entire amount, being absorbed by the

inefficient army, which exists mainly on paper.

The administration of justice is fairly good, although bribery is not

uncommon. As a rule, civil cases are tried by the _Kazis_ and criminal

cases by the _Begs_. The Chinese authorities merely supervise, and

prefer that all cases, whether criminal or civil, should be settled

out of court. By Chinese law no punishment can be inflicted without

confession of guilt, and torture is freely administered to secure this

confession. Punishments include beating on the back of the thighs above

the knees, and the _cangue_, a board two feet square and weighing

thirty pounds, which is worn round the neck; and also imprisonment.

Death sentences (which have to be confirmed at Urumchi) are carried out

by hanging, strangling or beheading.

In this system as a whole, as in the administration of justice, the

Chinese work as far as possible through the leading inhabitants, while

retaining a general supervision. They are very greedy for money, but

are acute enough to avoid causing too much discontent, and they remove

any official who becomes unpopular. In short, although their system

may be inefficient and aims at no improvements in administration or

communications, it is believed that the natives, with their memory of

Yakub Beg’s tyranny, would not care to exchange their Chinese rulers

for Moslems.

We come now to the trade of the province, concerning which my remarks

refer mainly to the three cities of Kashgar, Yarkand and Khotan.

Kashgar, the residence of the Governor, is not only the chief town, but

the centre of Russian trade. Owing to its favoured position with regard

to the railway at Andijan and the wealth of its rich oasis, the city

is increasing in population, which is now estimated at 80,000. Land

is rising in price and there is hardly a vacant house. Yarkand, with

70,000 inhabitants, is also rich and prosperous, but in a less marked

degree, and is the chief centre of the trade with India. Khotan, with

a population of 50,000, is the centre of the manufacturing activity of

the province, being celebrated for its jade, silk and carpets.

The mainstay of the export trade with India is the drug known as

_charas_ in India, prepared from the hemp which is planted round the

fields of maize; raw silk is the next most valuable export. The chief

articles of import from India are muslins, longcloths, and red cotton

prints; while spices from Southern India are in great and increasing

demand, and penetrate even to the western provinces of China. Surat

brocades are imported for covering caps and for women’s cloaks, and I

have seen some good specimens of the beautiful cloth of gold.

In no part of Asia are communications more difficult. The route to

India, _via_ Leh, perhaps the highest and roughest trade route in

the world, runs across range after range of stupendous mountains,

culminating in the Kara Koram, which is crossed by a pass at the

immense height of 18,550 feet. This track is open for not more than

six months in the year, and the difficulties from storms, avalanches

and flooded rivers are increased by the scantiness of the grazing, and

for some six stages by the entire absence of villages. This trade with

India _via_ Leh is of small amount, showing a total value of about

£200,000 for 1913.

By treaty Russo-Chinese trade _via_ Irkeshtam or Narin is free of

customs dues. Its value in 1913 was two and a half million roubles, or

rather more than the British total at the pre-war rate of exchange,

cotton tissues being the most important article. The Russian flowered

prints with which the natives are chiefly clothed--only the poorer

classes wearing the dingy white native calico--are artistic, and make

the crowds in the bazar delightfully picturesque. As may be supposed,

the chief articles of export are raw materials, such as cotton,

sheepskins, silk and wool; but there is also a considerable trade in

the local white cloth, which is worn on both sides of the frontier, and

in carpets.

The trade with Afghanistan is local and is mainly with the province

of Badakshan, the imports being almonds, pistachio and gall-nuts, and

the horses which were famous even in Marco Polo’s day. Opium, too,

is smuggled in considerable quantities; the _lapis lazuli_ mines are

not worked regularly, but occasional blocks are brought for sale. The

Badakshani traders carry back Russian piece goods, carpets and the

local white cloth. The route, which runs across the Wakhijir pass, is

open during the summer only, and the pedlars--for those who use it are

little more--must be a hardy race to withstand its rigours.

CHAPTER XIII

AN HISTORICAL SKETCH OF CHINESE TURKESTAN: THE EARLY PERIOD

L’histoire des Turos occidentaux est comme la clef de voûte oû

convergent et se rencontrent pendant quelques années les histoires

particulières de grandes nations qu’on regarde trop souvent comme

isolées les unes des autres; elle nous rappelle que la continuité

est la loi de l’univers et qu’il n’est pas d’anneau qu’on puisse

ignorer dans la chaine infinie dont toutes les parties sont

solidaires.--CHAVANNES, _Documents sur les Turcs Occidentaux_.

The history of Chinese Turkestan presents the difficulty that until

mediaeval times it filled but a small part on the stage of Asia. On

the other hand, it lay on the highway of the nations, and migrations

from the Far East to the West, which have so deeply influenced the

history of mankind, generally traversed the Tarim basin, the country

to the south being almost impracticable, and the country to the north

presenting a longer and a more difficult line of advance. Holding

firmly to the belief that history should be studied as a whole rather

than in watertight compartments, I have attempted in this sketch to

give some account, not only of events affecting Chinese Turkestan but

also of their connection with, and reaction upon, neighbouring states

of Asia.

The earliest recorded connection of China with what is now the province

of Chinese Turkestan is the progress of Mon Wang, one of the emperors

of the Chow Dynasty, to a province in the vicinity of the Kuen Lun

mountains which may be identified with Khotan. This tour is alleged to

have taken place about 1000 B.C., but is possibly legendary, and we

reach firmer ground at the beginning of the third century B.C., when

China, under the Han dynasty, became a world power. At this period

the chief concern of the ruler was the powerful tribe of the Hiong-Nu

or Huns, which occupied Mongolia. These ambitious nomads attacked

the Yue-chi (known later as the Lido-Scythians) then inhabiting the

north-west parts of Kansu, Kokonor and the southern half of the Gobi,

and not only defeated but expelled their enemy, thereby setting in

motion a series of human avalanches, with far-reaching consequences.

The dispossessed Yue-chi crossed the desert to Kucha and, advancing to

the Ili river, subsequently broke up into two divisions, the Little

Yue-chi who moved into Tibet, and the Great Yue-chi who occupied the

Ili valley and drove the Sakas from Kashgar in 163 B.C. But the Huns,

some fifteen or twenty years later, followed up and again defeated the

Yue-chi, and the latter, fleeing westwards and driving the Sakas before

them, invaded Bactria and, in 120 B.C., destroyed its Greek dynasty.

They then crossed the Hindu Kush and carved out an empire in India with

Peshawar as their capital.

The wide outlook of the Han dynasty is demonstrated by the fact that,

between 120 B.C. and 88 B.C., missions were despatched across Chinese

Turkestan to distant Parthia, known in China as An-Sih, from the

Chinese form of the name of the royal house of Arsaces. It is worthy of

mention that Mithradates II. of Parthia, who received the earliest of

these missions, and thereby initiated an intercourse with China which

was invariably peaceful, was also the first Parthian monarch to receive

an embassy from Rome.

Wars with the Huns were a constant preoccupation of the Chinese until,

in the first century B.C., they began to take most vigorous action

in Chinese Turkestan. By 59 B.C. the entire province was conquered

and a strong government was established. In 51 B.C. the nomads of

Central Asia, exhausted by internecine strife, appealed to China,

whose supremacy--so Chinese historians declare--was acknowledged in

some form, however slight, from the province of Shensi to the Caspian

Sea. Owing to the wide range of nomadic tribes the statement is not as

fantastic as at first sight it would seem to be.

This vague authority was consolidated in the first century of our

era by the famous warrior Pan Chao, who in the course of his earlier

campaigns steadily annexed provinces and districts lying to the west of

China. In A.D. 70 he defeated the ruler of Khotan, and six years later

he conquered the entire province with which we are dealing. According

to a local legend, on one occasion Pan Chao was besieged in Kashgar

and access to the river was cut off, but the great general rose to the

occasion and stamped on the ground, whereupon springs, still known as

“the Springs of Pan Chao,” gushed out and the army was saved.

In 88 the Yue-chi, who had assisted Pan Chao in a campaign against

Turfan, sent a tribute of jewels and lions to China, and demanded a

princess of the Han dynasty as a consort for their ruler; but this

proceeding was viewed with disfavour by Pan Chao, and he arrested

the ambassador. The Yue-chi, to avenge the insult, despatched an army

estimated at 70,000 men across the Pamirs. Broken down by hardships, it

was defeated with ease, and as the outcome of further negotiations the

Yue-chi continued to pay tribute to China.

In 91 Pan Chao was appointed General-Protector, and according to the

Chinese historian not only crossed the Pamirs, but conquered fifteen

kingdoms lying between Kashgar and the Caspian Sea. Probably what

occurred was that he received envoys from the various nomadic tribes,

who agreed to recognize Chinese suzerainty; for it is unlikely that a

Chinese army actually marched to the Caspian Sea.

In 97 Pan Chao despatched a certain Kan Ying on an embassy to visit

Parthia and Rome; but the envoy, after safely reaching Ctesiphon,

was deterred from the long voyage down the Persian Gulf, across the

Indian Ocean, and up the Red Sea and the Gulf of Akaba to Aelana, by

exaggerated reports that on the return journey, if the winds were

adverse, the ocean might take two years to cross! According to the

local belief, Pan Chao is buried inside the present city of Kashgar, on

a high mound which is surmounted by an artistic temple and overlooks

the springs already mentioned.

In time the power of the Celestials waned in Chinese Turkestan, and we

learn from the annals of the later Hans that at the beginning of the

second century A.D. the ruler of Su-le (as Kashgar was then termed) was

forced to send as a hostage to the king of the Yue-chi at Peshawar one

of his relatives, who was subsequently placed on the throne of Kashgar.

This piece of history is corroborated by Hiuen Tsiang. Under Kanishka,

the most celebrated ruler of the Yue-chi, the tribe regained Kashgar

about A.D. 125,[9] more than two centuries after their first seizure of

the province--truly a remarkable cycle of conquest.

The Huns had recovered their strength at this period, and in 138, the

Chinese Emperor sent a certain Chang Kien, with a suite numbering one

hundred persons, to open up relations with the Yue-chi, whom he wished

to enlist as allies. Chang Kien was unfortunately captured by the Huns

and kept prisoner for ten years, after which he escaped with some of

his followers and reached Farghana, where he was well treated. The

Yue-chi had recently conquered Tokharistan, situated in the great bend

of the Oxus, where the undaunted Chang Kien at last gained touch with

them. As was to be expected, he found them unwilling to quit their new

conquest in order to undertake a campaign in the interests of China.

Chang Kien finally returned home with the two surviving members of his

mission and drew up a valuable geographical and ethnographical memoir;

he also introduced the vine into China. He will ever be famous in the

annals of his country as the first Chinaman who “pierced the void.”

The Yue-chi introduced Buddhism into China after the conversion of

Kanishka to that faith; they also undoubtedly brought to India a

knowledge of Chinese civilization, together with the peach and the pear

tree. Moreover, they had intercourse with Rome both from India and from

Central Asia, and in various ways played a distinguished rôle until

they finally succumbed before the onslaught of the White Huns.

About the same time that the Prince of Kashgar recognized the

paramountcy of the Yue-chi the Uighur tribes in the Turfan and Hami

districts revolted from China, and for five centuries Chinese control

over the entire province was lost.

Buddhism reached Khotan and Kashgar from India and thence spread to

China. In 399 the Chinese monk Fa-hien, “deploring the mutilated and

imperfect state of the collection of the Books of Discipline,” set off

on a long and successful journey to India, and to him we owe the first

detailed account of the province of Khotan, which was at this period an

important centre of Buddhism.

In the middle of the fifth century, not long after the journey

of Fa-hien, the reigning member of the Toba Wei dynasty of China

despatched an envoy to Po-sz, as Persia was then termed. The Persian

monarch sent a return mission with a gift of trained elephants, which

the independent Prince of Khotan detained, but in the end released. In

all, ten missions are recorded as passing between Northern China and

Persia between 455 and 513; and reading between the lines we find clear

indications that at this period there was considerable intercourse

between China and Persia _via_ Khotan.

In 509, envoys from Khotan presented themselves at the Chinese Court

bearing tribute. In the annals they are described as follows: “The

people are Buddhists, and their women are in society as amongst other

nations. They braid the hair into long plaits, and wear pelisses

and loose trousers. The people are very ceremonious and polite,

and curtsey on meeting, by bending one knee to the ground.” Except

that Buddhism has given place to Islam, this description, generally

speaking, stands good at the present time.

The next great wave of invasion was that of the Juan Juan, a tribe

newly appearing on the stage of Manchuria. Gathering Turks and Mongols

to their banners, the Juan Juan destroyed the Hiong-Nu, who were

probably weakened by emigrations westward, and about 460 swept across

Chinese Turkestan like a devastating tornado, without making any

attempt at permanent conquest. The Hoa or White Huns, a vassal tribe,

subsequently threw off their allegiance to the Juan Juan and founded an

empire on the ruins of that of the Yue-Chi, embracing most of Chinese

Turkestan to the east, but having its centre in the middle Oxus, whence

for many generations it seriously threatened the existence of the

Persian Empire.

In the middle of the sixth century the empire of the “White Huns” in

its turn succumbed to the attack of the Western Turks, the Tu-chueh of

the Chinese, who were organized in a confederacy of ten tribes. From

the centre of this new power, which lay in the rich valleys to the

north of the Tian Shan, the Paramount Chiefs ruled over a vast empire,

leaving the states subject to their sway to be governed by their

hereditary rulers, under the control of Turkish collectors of tribute.

Such was the state of the province we are dealing with when the great

traveller Hiuen Tsiang passed through the empire of the Western Turks

in 630. His meeting with the Paramount Chief is described by his

biographer. In that very year this chief was assassinated. His death

was a signal for the breakup of the confederacy of the ten tribes, and

for Chinese Turkestan it was the end of a well-defined period.

A new epoch opened with the establishment of the Tang dynasty in China

early in the seventh century, and during the reign of its founder the

invasions of the Northern Turks made him in the first instance seek the

help of the Western Turks. The Chinese dynasty, however, rapidly became

strong, and the year 630 not only marked the downfall of the Western

but also the subjugation of the Northern Turks, and China once again

found herself in a position to recover her lost western provinces. With

this end in view a Chinese army crossed the great desert in 640 and

occupied Turfan, and later on Karashahr and Kucha. The King of Khotan,

presumably alarmed by these successes, returned to his allegiance, the

tradition of which had probably not been forgotten, and the annexation

of the entire province to China was secured in 658 by a victory won on

the banks of the Ili over the revolted Paramount Chief. By this final

triumph the existence of the Western Turks as a power came to an end,

and China succeeded to their vast empire, which extended southwards

across the Hindu Kush to Kabul and westwards to the borders of Persia.

At this period Chinese Turkestan was known as the “Four Garrisons,” the

reference being to the forces stationed at Kucha, Khotan, Karashahr and

Kashgar, because Chinese power was based on this quadrilateral. Not

that it remained unchallenged; for the Tibetans seized the province

in 670 and retained possession of it until 692, when the Chinese

reoccupied it in force.

The consolidation of Chinese dominion in the west opened the way for

the almost simultaneous introduction of Christianity and Zoroastrianism

into China and Chinese Turkestan. The first Nestorian missionary

reached China with sacred books and images in 635; and Yule[10] shows

how the Nestorian sees of China formed part of a wide-spreading

ecclesiastical system controlled by the Patriarchal see in Persia.

The recent discovery of Nestorian cemeteries west of the Issik Kul,

with dates ranging from 858 to 1339, throws interesting light on the

fact that Kashgar is shown as a Nestorian see in the middle of the

thirteenth century. In 621, a few years before the introduction of

Christianity, the first Fire Temple was erected in China, and we learn

from Chavannes that the Zoroastrian cult existed at Kashgar, Khotan and

Samarcand.

A new and bewildering factor had now to be reckoned with in the rise

of Islam; for its conquering spirit, which so profoundly affected the

Near and Middle East and Northern Africa, even approached the confines

of the distant Chinese empire. Yezdigird III., the last Persian monarch

of the Sasanian dynasty, implored China for aid against the invading

Arabs, but received the reply that Persia was too distant for help to

be sent. Subsequently a son of the hapless Sasanian took refuge with

the Chinese, but his attempt to win back the throne of his ancestors

failed utterly. In 655, three years after the murder of Yezdigird

at Merv, the Arabs despatched an embassy to China and thus opened

up direct communication with the Celestial Empire, whose frontier

officials must have watched their advance with apprehension.

The great Arab conqueror of Central Asia was Kutayba ibn Muslim, who

made his headquarters at Merv, and, in a series of campaigns waged

for a decade, subdued Bokhara, Samarcand and Farghana. About 715 he

actually raided as far as Kashgar, described by the Arab historian as

“a city near the Chinese frontier.” A curious legend of this campaign

has been preserved, according to which Kutayba swore to take possession

of the soil of China, and the ruler enabled him to fulfil his oath by

the gift of a load of soil to trample on, a bag of Chinese money to

symbolize tribute, and four youths to be stamped with his seal. Two

years later the Arabs and Tibetans, taking advantage of the rebellion

of the Western Turks, again penetrated into the “Four Garrisons.” This

was the farthest east reached by the Arab armies, and the exploit is a

signal proof of their marvellous initiative and warlike prowess.

Based on their garrison in Chinese Turkestan, the Chinese mainly

devoted their energies to preventing the Tibetans from stretching out

their hands to the Arabs through Gilgit and Yasin, in which districts

the Celestials built forts; and we read of more than one campaign

successfully conducted in these ice-bound highlands in pursuance of

this policy. But the power of China in this distant province was

short-lived. One of her generals, who had successfully conducted two

campaigns to the south of the Hindu Kush, treacherously seized and put

to death the tributary King of Tashkent. Under this king’s son the

country rose, the Arabs were called in, and the Chinese, owing to

the defection of their native allies, were annihilated. A few years

later internal troubles broke out in China, and the Tibetans, taking

full advantage of them, overran the province of Kansu and interrupted

communications with the heart of the Empire. About this time, too, in

751, a Chinese army 30,000 strong was annihilated in the _Gobi_.

The deserted officials with consummate skill maintained Chinese

authority for a whole generation after being thus cut off from China,

as the Chinese traveller Wu Kung testifies. Returning home by way

of the “Four Garrisons” after a long residence in India, he reached

Kashgar in 786; and, remaining in the province for a considerable

period, noted that everywhere he found Chinese governors. By 791,

however, the Tibetans had destroyed this paper government, and their

own, which took its place, and at one time even threatened their old

allies the Arabs, lasted until, in turn, it was broken by the Uighurs.

The complete disappearance of China from the scene marks the end of

another period in the history of the province.

The Uighurs, whose ancestors claimed descent from the Huns, originally

lived in north-west Mongolia and, when they were expelled by the Hakas

from their homeland, two of their sections founded states in the

eastern Tian Shan. A third section, with which we are more especially

concerned, broke the power of the Tibetans about 860 and became the

masters of Kashgar, although Khotan remained independent for some

years. The rulers of this section of the Uighurs--known also as the

Karluks or Karakhani--were termed the Ilak Khans, and the part they

played on the stage of Central Asia was important. The career of

these Uighurs was chequered, as in 840 Karakoram, their capital, was

captured by the Kirghiz and their Paramount Chief was killed. This led

to the dispersal of the tribe but not to its downfall, as Bishbaligh,

the modern Urumchi, was occupied about this period and remained one

of their chief centres for many centuries. They held sway under the

designation of the _Arslan_ or “Lion” Khans for many generations, and

in the notices of the various embassies exchanged with China there is

evidence that a comparatively high stage of civilization was reached

in the country. Indeed their culture influenced Central Asia more than

that of any other race, the script of the Mongols being adopted from

the Uighurs, who in their turn had learnt it from the Manichaeans, or

perhaps from the Nestorians.

The remarkable growth of the Persian creed of Manichaeism in Central

Asia is closely connected with the Uighurs, whose chief became a

convert to this faith in the eighth century. Among the manuscripts

discovered by Sir Aurel Stein in the course of his excavations is a

book of their omens, which makes curious reading: “A gambler staked

his son and his servants. He went away after having won the hazardous

game. Without losing his son and his servants, he won again ninety

stray sheep. His son and his attendants all rejoice. Know ye this.

This is good.” And again: “An old ox was being eaten by ants, by their

gnawing around its body. It stands without being able to move. Know ye

this. This is bad.” Manichaeans took part in the Uighur embassy sent to

China in 806 and their religion existed in Chinese Turkestan until the

thirteenth century.

The movement in favour of conversion to Islam began in Chinese

Turkestan in the middle of the tenth century of our era, Boghra[11]

Khan, a scion of the Karluk stock, being the first convert. The

legend, as given in the fantastic hagiology known as the _Tazkirat_ or

“Chronicles of Boghra,” runs that the young Satok Boghra Khan, at the

age of twelve, was secretly converted by a certain Abu Nasr, Samani.

His stepfather, who was the reigning monarch, suspected this, and, in

order to test his fidelity to the old religion, invited him to help

in laying the foundation-stone of a new idol-temple. In despair the

young prince sought the advice of Abu Nasr, who replied that, if he

worked with the intention of building a mosque, he would obtain merit

in the presence of Allah and be delivered from the evil designs of the

infidels. Having escaped this danger, the young convert decided to make

an end of his stepfather, and breaking into his apartment by night, he

awoke him, being unwilling to kill a sleeping man. The monarch refused

to accept Islam at the point of his nephew’s sword, but upon the prayer

of Satok the earth opened and swallowed up the infidel, whose fate

resembled that of Korah. As the chronicle runs: “The earth devoured

Harun Boghra Khan, and he was not.”

Satok Boghra Khan enjoyed considerable power and captured Bokhara. His

last campaign was undertaken against Turfan, where in 993 he fell ill

and whence he was carried back, a dying man, to Kashgar. His son and

successor, Hasan, is known to history as having ended the Samanid

dynasty by the capture of Abdul Malik. In Chinese Turkestan he is still

better known for having waged a desperate campaign with the “infidel”

Prince of Khotan, whom he defeated; not, however, without first

suffering a disaster, in which Ali Arslan, his nephew and the Kashgar

champion, was killed. The body of the latter is buried on the field of

battle at Ordam Padshah, to the east of Yangi Hissar, but his head is

preserved at a shrine, in the Dolat Bagh, near Kashgar. A few years

later both Hasan and his brother were killed by the Princes of Khotan,

but this province, after a series of campaigns lasting twenty-four

years, was ultimately annexed to Kashgar. From this period what we now

call Chinese Turkestan was definitely occupied by the Turks. _Turki_

became the universal language; and Grenard aptly draws attention to the

fact that the oldest Kashgar book which has reached us, and which dates

from 1068, is written in a pure Turki dialect.

In 1125 a new dynasty made its appearance in the Tarim basin. Yelui

Tashi, a near relation of the head of the Kara Khitai or Leao dynasty

of China, realizing that his position in the homeland was hopeless

in view of the military superiority of the Nuchens, who subsequently

founded the Kin dynasty, decided in that year to seek his fortune

elsewhere. Collecting a force in Shensi, he marched into the valley

of the Tarim and annexed it, thereby ending the dynasty of the Ilak

Khans. He next invaded Western Turkestan, upon which he imposed an

annual tribute of 20,000 pieces of gold, and later he assumed the title

of _Gur Khan_ or “Universal Lord.” He died in 1136. His successor, in

alliance with Atsiz of Khwarazm or Khiva, inflicted a crushing defeat

on the great Seljuk, Sultan San jar, in 1141. The Seljuk losses were

estimated at one hundred thousand, and the Kara Khitai temporarily

occupied Merv and Nishapur.

It is of special interest, as illustrating the wide range of Sadi’s

travels, to note that the great Persian poet visited Kashgar at this

period. He commences one of his stories as follows: “In a certain year

Mohamed Khwarazm Shah, for some good reason, chose to make peace with

Cathay. I entered the chief mosque of Kashgar and saw a boy with beauty

of the most perfect symmetry,” etc.

In 1200 the tables were turned on the _Gur Khan_ by Mohamed of

Khwarazm, who was joined by Guchluk son of the Naiman chief whose

defeat by Chengiz is recounted in the next chapter. Escaping from

the field, he arrived, after great privations, at the court of the

_Gur Khan_, where he was treated kindly, received a daughter of the

monarch in marriage, and was converted to Buddhism. But, with base

ingratitude, he gradually collected a force of his tribesmen, and with

Mohamed of Khwarazm and the Prince of Samarcand formed a plot against

his benefactor. The nefarious scheme was successful, and by 1212 the

_Gur Khan_ was a prisoner, and the usurper ruled over the Tarim basin.

During the few years of his power he persecuted the followers of

Islam and massacred the _mullas_ at Khotan, hanging their leader head

downwards from a tree in front of the chief mosque. But the reign of

this detestable traitor was short, and the avenger of the _Gur Khan_

was at hand.

CHAPTER XIV

AN HISTORICAL SKETCH OF CHINESE TURKESTAN: THE MEDIAEVAL AND LATER

PERIOD

Cascar constituted a Kingdom in former days, but now is subject to the

Great Kaan. The people worship Mohamed. There are a good number of

towns and villages, but the greatest and finest is Cascar itself. The

inhabitants live by trade and handicrafts; they have beautiful gardens

and vineyards, and fine estates, and grow a great deal of cotton....

There are in this country many Nestorian Christians, who have churches

of their own.--MARCO POLO.

The rise of the Mongols from the position of despised tributaries of

the Kin dynasty to that of lords of Asia and Eastern Europe is among

the greatest events in history. Chengiz Khan, the organizing genius who

welded tribes, with their constant feuds, raids and petty wars, into a

single vast, obedient army, was born in 1162. When a boy of thirteen he

succeeded to the confederacy built up by his father Yissugay, and for

many years he suffered the vicissitudes of fortune that were usual in

those times and circumstances; among them being capture by his enemies.

After these early difficulties, we hear of the youthful chieftain

serving the Kin Emperor and attacking with success the Buyr Nur Tartars

who had killed his father.

Among his allies were the Keraits, a Nestorian Christian tribe whose

chief, Toghril, better known as the Wang Khan, was probably the

original subject of the stories associated with Prester John, the

fabulous monarch renowned in mediaeval Europe. In 1199 the two chiefs

attacked the powerful Naiman tribe of Christians which occupied

the country to the north of the Tian Shan, but the campaign was

unsuccessful owing to the treachery of the Kerait leader, who drew off

his troops at a critical moment. Three years later Wang Khan actually

attacked and worsted the Mongols, but this defeat was avenged by

Chengiz, who surprised him by a night attack. Wang Khan fled to the

Naiman, by whom he was put to death. The results of this encounter were

important, since it gave Chengiz control of the southern part of the

present province of Mongolia.

His next campaign was directed against the Naiman. The two forces met

to the north of the Tian Shan, and the result was a decisive victory

for Chengiz, who thereby subjugated the Naimans and their allies. The

Naiman king was carried out of the battle mortally wounded, but his

son Guchluk escaped to Chinese Turkestan and took refuge with the _Gur

Khan_, whose hospitality he abused as mentioned in the previous chapter.

In 1218 Chengiz invaded Chinese Turkestan and detached a force of

20,000 men from the main body to attack Guchluk. The latter fled

without attempting to fight for his throne, but was overtaken in the

wilds of Badakshan and put to death. The Mongol general proclaimed

freedom of worship, which was one of the few benefits conferred by

these nomad rulers. Through their influence, too, the position of

Moslem women was considerably raised in Central Asia, where it is

still relatively high. Later on commerce prospered, owing to the

removal of the boundaries of states, and during the second half of the

thirteenth century the illustrious Venetian, Marco Polo, traversed the

province from the Pamirs to Kashgar, from that city to Yarkand and

Khotan, and thence to China.

Chengiz Khan divided his dominions among his four sons. To Chagatai,

his second son, was assigned Transoxiana as a centre, with appanages

in every direction; Eastern Turkestan, Ili, Tibet, Ladak, Badakshan,

Afghanistan, Kashmir and Bokhara being all included in his

wide-spreading kingdom. Chagatai was a follower of Buddha, and his

rule was both vigorous and tolerant. His capital was at Almaligh,

near the modern Kulja, where he led a nomad’s life remote from the

great cities of Samarcand and Bokhara. He bestowed Eastern Turkestan

on the Dughlat family, and its chiefs became hereditary rulers of the

province. Early in the fourteenth century a permanent division was

made, Moghulistan[12] being separated from Transoxiana. For the former

kingdom a Mongol prince, Isan Bugha, was elected and set on the throne,

which he occupied until his death in 1330. His successor, after an

interval of anarchy, was his son Tughluk Timur, whose mother, while

pregnant with him, had, on account of the jealousy of the head wife,

been married to a nobleman and sent away from the Court. Owing to this

it was not even known whether a son or a daughter had been born to the

_Khan_ until the head of the Dughlat tribe despatched a confidential

servant, who ascertained the facts and brought back the youth, then

sixteen years of age.

The Tarikh-i-Rashidi, the sole important literary work produced in

Eastern Turkestan,[13] opens with the following sentence, which merits

quotation: “One day, when Tughluk Timur Khan was feeding his dogs with

swine’s flesh, _Shaykh_ Jamal-u-Din was brought into his presence. The

_Khan_ said to the _Shaykh_, ‘Are you better than this dog or is the

dog better than you?’ The Shaykh replied, ‘If I have faith I am the

better of the two, but if I have no faith, this dog is better than I

am.’ The _Khan_ was much impressed by these words, and a great love for

Islam took possession of his heart.” His conversion did not take place

during the _Shaykh’s_ lifetime, but was accomplished by a _Maulana_ or

“Master,” a small, weak man in appearance, who, when challenged, smote

the Champion of the Infidels senseless. This seemingly miraculous blow

resulted in 160,000 persons becoming Moslems, and by the end of the

fourteenth century Islam had supplanted Buddhism generally throughout

Eastern Turkestan.

Tughluk Timur’s first capital was Aksu, but later he selected Kashgar,

and his chief claim to distinction is his connection with the great

Tamerlane. At this period the western division of Chagatai’s kingdom,

which was ruled by puppet _Khans_, had fallen into a state of anarchy.

Tughluk Timur accordingly determined to annex it, and in 1360 crossed

the frontier at the head of an army. The chief of the Barlas tribe was

defeated and fled to Khorasan, but his nephew Timur, destined to become

famous as Tamerlane, saved the situation by timely submission, and was

received into favour.

On the death of Tughluk Timur in 1363 Tamerlane drove out his son, who

died shortly afterwards, and the throne of Kashgar was usurped by Amir

Kamar-u-Din, of the Dughlat tribe.

In 1375, hearing that Moghulistan was weakened by disorders, Tamerlane

decided to invade it. In the chronicle known as the _Zafar Nama_ an

interesting account is given of this campaign. At the outset the

weather was terribly severe: “No one ever yet saw so much snow; the

world looked like a morsel in the snow’s mouth.” But Jahangir, the

invader’s eldest son, defeated the enemy, who had taken refuge in

deep ravines. Kamar-u-Din escaped, but his wife and daughter were

captured, and Tamerlane married the latter and ended the campaign

with festivities. He invaded Moghulistan altogether five times, the

valley of the Yulduz being the meeting-place of his armies, and Eastern

Turkestan suffered terribly from these raids, in the course of which

the country was laid waste.

In 1392 Kamar-u-Din died, and a son of Tughluk Timur, who had been

leading a wandering life, hidden by his attendants, at first in the

Pamirs, then in the Kuen Lun, and finally in the wild Lob Nor region,

was set on the throne, and concluded a peace with Tamerlane.

Tamerlane’s last projected campaign against China would have led across

Moghulistan, and the _Khan_ was much perturbed by orders to sow large

tracts of land with corn and to collect thousands of head of cattle

for the use of the army. But one day “they saw advancing rapidly a man

mounted on a black horse and clothed in white robes. The chamberlains

ran up from every side to try to stop him in his course, but he did not

slacken his speed till he came up to where the _Khan_ was standing.

Then he called out in a loud voice, ‘Amir Timur is no more; he has died

at Otrar!’ Many horsemen were sent after him, but none could overtake

him.” The news announced in this dramatic fashion was confirmed

forty-five days later. The “Scourge of God” had died on February 4,

1405, and the country was thereby saved from being eaten up by the vast

armies which he would have led on this distant campaign.

It is interesting to note that in 1420 Amir Khudadad, the then ruler,

entertained the embassy despatched by Shah Rukh, the celebrated

successor of Tamerlane, to the Emperor of China. The outward route of

the ambassadors ran by Samarcand and Tashkent and thence to the north

of the Tian Shan by Yulduz to Turfan, the return route passing through

Khotan and Kashgar. The autograph letters of Shah Rukh are still

extant, and the description of the journey given by one of the envoys

is delightfully vivid.

We learn a good deal about Eastern Turkestan during the early part

of the sixteenth century through _Mirza_ Haidar’s description of the

career of Sultan Said, whose service he entered. This ruler, unable

to face the Uzbegs, whose power had become formidable, decided in

1514 to forsake Andijan and to attack Aba Bakr, of the Dughlat tribe,

who ruled at Kashgar and Yarkand. The expedition was a complete

success and re-established the Moghul dynasty, Aba Bakr being murdered

while fleeing to Ladak. Sultan Said invaded Badakshan, Ladak and

Kashmir during the next two decades, and died from the effects of

the rarefication of the atmosphere on his way back from Ladak, near

the celebrated Karakoram Pass. Rashid Khan, who gave his name to the

history, succeeded to the throne and ruled for some years with much

cruelty. After his death his sons divided their heritage, and the

country relapsed into anarchy.

[Illustration: TAMERLANE. _Page 268._]

Under the later Chagatai Khans, Islam recovered from the set-back it

had received from the invasions of Chengiz Khan and his immediate

successors, thanks mainly to the influence of Bokhara and Samarcand,

which had become important centres of Moslem learning. During the

reign of Rashid Khan, the celebrated saint _Sayyid Khoja_ Hasan, more

generally known as _Makhdum-i-Azam_ or “The Great Master,” visited

Kashgar from Samarcand and was received with extraordinary honours. The

saint’s sons settled at Kashgar, where their father had married a wife

and had received rich estates, and gradually established a theocracy,

laying upon the necks of the submissive, apathetic people a heavy

yoke which they still bear. In course of time two parties were formed

whose influence on the subsequent history of the country has been

profound. The supporters of the elder son were termed _Ak Taulin_ or

“White Mountaineers,” from the name of the range behind Artush, their

headquarters, whereas the supporters of the younger were known as _Kara

Taulin_ or “Black Mountaineers,” from the hills near Khan Arik. Both

parties of _Khojas_, as they were termed, aimed at political supremacy

and intrigued with any external power that appeared likely to favour

their ambitions.

In 1603 the famous Portuguese monk Benedict Goez reached Yarkand and

was honourably received by its ruler, to whose mother he had lent money

at Kabul. The Prince repaid the debt in jade, which the traveller sold

to great advantage during his onward journey.

We now come to the rise of the Zungars or Kalmuks, a Mongol race which

then dwelt in Ili and the surrounding districts. Under Khan Haldan

Bokosha, one of the outstanding figures of the period, their power

stretched northwards to Siberia and southwards to Kucha, Karashahr

and Kunya-Turfan; but Haldan rebelled against the Chinese and was

decisively beaten.

His nephew and successor, Tse Wang Rabdan, ruled from Hami on the east

to Khokand on the west, and, until his murder in 1727, was the most

powerful of Zungarian rulers. The Torgut Mongols from fear of him fled

to the banks of the Volga. Sir Henry Howorth gives an interesting

account of the relations between Tse Wang and the Russians, from which

it appears that Peter the Great, attracted by rumours of gold in

Eastern Turkestan, despatched a body of 3000 men up the Irtish with

Yarkand as their objective; but the Zungars assailed the column and

forced it to retire.

To return to the _Khoja_ family, its most celebrated member was Hidayat

Ulla, known as _Hazrat Apak_ or “His Highness the Presence,” head of

the _Ak Taulins_, who was regarded as a Prophet second only to Mohamed.

Expelled from Kashgar he took refuge at Lhassa, where the Dalai Lama

befriended him and advised him to seek the aid of the Zungars. In 1678

the latter seized Kashgar, which remained in their power for many

years, and _Hazrat Apak_ ruled as the deputy of the _Khan_, paying

tribute equivalent to £62,000 per annum. In his old age the saint

retired from the world to end his days among his disciples.

Some years later internal disorders enabled Amursana, one of the Zungar

chiefs, to declare himself and his tribe Chinese subjects, and to

persuade other tribes to follow his example; he also induced Kashgar

to tender allegiance to the Chinese. It was the policy of the Emperor

Keen Lung to reconquer Ili and Eastern Turkestan for the Celestial

Empire; and in 1755 he despatched an army 150,000 strong, which met

with little resistance and enabled him to consolidate the allegiance

tendered through Amursana, who was appointed Paramount Chief. The

Zungar soon tired of Chinese rule and massacred a detachment of the

Celestial forces; but the Chinese reoccupied Zungaria in 1757, and in

the following year crushed the tribe. Kulja was founded on the site of

the Zungarian capital, and the modern name of Hsin-Chiang or the “New

Province” was formally bestowed on the reconquered countries.

The Chinese, realizing their numerical weakness, settled soldiers

and landless men in the fertile districts of the “New Province,” to

which they also deported criminals and political prisoners, among the

latter being Tunganis deported from Kansu and Shensi. Chinese rule was

evidently less harsh than Russian; for in 1771 the Torgut Mongols to

the number of 100,000 families fled back to the Ili valley from the

banks of the Volga, as narrated in dramatic fashion by De Quincey.

The prestige of China after her splendid successes was naturally very

high and led to further acquisitions. First the Middle and then the

Little Horde of Kirghiz, in spite of their connection with Russia,

offered their submission; it was accepted, and the rulers of Khokand,

Baltistan, and Badakshan followed suit.

The _Khans_ of Central Asia were alarmed by this display of Chinese

power, and formed a confederacy, headed by Ahmad Khan, the Amir

of Afghanistan, who despatched an embassy to Peking to demand the

surrender of Chinese Turkestan on the ground that it was inhabited by

Moslems. Receiving an unsatisfactory reply, the Afghan Amir was careful

not to attack the Chinese, but contented himself with holding Badakshan

in force; and soon afterwards the confederacy broke up.

Chinese exactions both in taxation and in forced labour for the

erection of cantonments now became very heavy, and many of the

oppressed peasants fled to Andijan, where they formed a party of

malcontents, who awaited their opportunity.

The first attempt to expel the Chinese was made in 1822 by Jahangir,

the _Khoja_, who, supported by the Kirghiz, raided Kashgar, but was

repulsed, and retreated to the country south of Issik Kul, where he

defeated a Chinese expedition. In 1826 he again tried to win Kashgar,

and this time with success. Enormous forces were organized for its

recovery, and after a trial by champions, in which a Kalmuk archer

defeated a Khokandian armed with a musket, the Chinese won the day, and

Jahangir was captured and put to death. Confiscations and executions

followed, and 12,000 Moslem families were deported to Ili and settled

as serfs under the name of Tarantchis. Forts, too, were built at all

important centres and Chinese authority seemed to be stronger than

ever. As a further precaution a blockade was declared against Khokand.

The _Khan_, resenting this policy and using Yusuf, the brother of

Jahangir, as a puppet, invaded the province in 1830, but was forced to

return to defend his own country against an invasion from Bokhara.

In the following year the Chinese made peace with Khokand, bestowing

valuable privileges on the _Khan_, including a yearly subsidy of £3600,

in return for which he was pledged to prevent hostile expeditions;

he was also granted entire control of his subjects in Chinese

Turkestan, to be exercised through _Aksakals_ or “Elders” of their

own nationality. The term _Alti Shahr_, or “Six Cities,” now began to

be applied to the western part of the province, which was specially

affected by the treaty.

In 1846, the result of the British operations against China and the

weakness of that empire becoming known, the sons of Jahangir attempted

another expedition, headed by Ishan Khan _Khoja_, known as _Katta

Tura_, or “Great Lord,” who was the moving spirit among the brothers.

Kashgar was captured by treachery; but the tyranny of the victors

alienated the province, and the Chinese garrison at Yarkand was

strong enough to expel the motley gathering of Kirghiz and Khokandi

adventurers, in whose wake some 20,000 families left their homes and

crossed the Terek Dawan in mid-winter.

A decade later another attempt was made by Wali Khan _Khoja_, who

occupied Kashgar in 1857 and massacred the Chinese. Surrounding

himself with fanatical Khokandis, he ill-treated and oppressed the

population, enforcing five daily attendances at the mosques, by means

of cruel punishments, and forbidding the time-honoured custom of

plaiting the hair; he also barbarously murdered the German traveller

Adolph Schlagintweit. Thanks to his unpopularity the Chinese army which

attacked the usurper met with no resistance, and the Khoja fled back to

Andijan, followed, it is said, by some fifteen thousand families. But

probably all these numbers are exaggerated.

A new figure was now about to appear on the stage, through whose action

Chinese Turkestan was opened up to Great Britain and Russia. We may

therefore fitly end the second section of this historical sketch before

describing the kingdom founded by Yakub Beg.

[Illustration: Supplementary Sketch Map showing COUNTRY TO THE EAST OF

ROUTE MAP]

CHAPTER XV

AN HISTORICAL SKETCH OF CHINESE TURKESTAN: THE MODERN PERIOD

The soldiers of the _Atalik_ in the Six Cities were many;

gold-embroidered turbans and silk cloaks were the instruments of death

for these dainty warriors.--FROM A KASHGAR BALLAD.

By way of introduction to this chapter some reference to the Khanates

of Central Asia is called for. Half a century ago little or no accurate

information on the subject was obtainable in England; for, although a

brilliant band of British officers had penetrated to remote Bokhara and

Khiva before the middle of the nineteenth century, the Khanates of the

Sir Daria were beyond their ken.

With Russia it was otherwise. She was drawn forward mainly, perhaps,

by the ambitions of her frontier officers but also by the desirability

of controlling the raiders of the steppe. The Russian columns met with

little serious opposition, being materially aided in their advance

southwards by the Sir Daria, which not only provided drinking water,

but to a certain extent helped to solve the difficult problems of

supply and transport.

Russia reached the Sea of Aral and the mouth of the Sir Daria in 1847

and erected two forts, one in a harbour of that sea and the other at

the mouth of the river. This forward step brought her into hostile

contact with the state of Khokand, whose rulers bitterly resented the

appearance of the Northern Power in an area where they had hitherto

been unchallenged. But Russia was not to be denied. In 1849 the advance

up the great river was begun, the first outpost of Khokand being

captured in that year; and four years later Ak Masjid, situated 220

miles up the Sir Daria, was taken. The Crimean War paralysed Russian

activity for some years, but in 1865 Tashkent was captured and the

territory lying between the Sea of Aral and the Issik Kul was formed

into the frontier province of Turkestan.

Having very briefly traced the advance of Russia to this point, we turn

to Khokand, where a movement originated which profoundly influenced

Chinese Turkestan and the adjacent countries. At this point some

account must be given of Yakub Beg, an adventurer destined to play a

leading part on the stage of Chinese Turkestan. The future Amir was

born near Tashkent in 1820, his father, who claimed to be descended

from Tamerlane, being a _kazi_ or judge. At the age of twenty-five

we find Yakub Beg a chamberlain in the service of the youthful

Khudayar Khan, who was placed on the throne of Khokand by the Kapchak

chief, Mussalman Kuli. Yakub’s sister married the Kapchak governor

of Tashkent, and Yakub, mainly through his influence, was appointed

Governor of Ak Masjid, which fort he stubbornly but unsuccessfully

defended against the Russians. In 1858 Mussalman Kuli was barbarously

executed by his ungrateful master, and the Kapchak and Kirghiz united

to expel Khudayar in favour of his eldest brother, whom they set on

the throne. Yakub tendered his services to the new _Khan_, who was

assassinated two years later, whereupon Khudayar returned to the throne

and took Yakub into favour once again. But that treacherous official

soon deserted Khudayar in favour of Shah Murad Khan, another claimant

to the throne. He was ordered by his new master to hold Khojand, but

being threatened by a Bokharan force he surrendered his charge and

joined the invaders. Later, Yakub Beg fought the Russians before

Tashkent in 1864, when General Chernaieff, after the fall of Chimkent,

failed in his attempt to capture the city by a _coup de main_.

At this juncture the envoys of Sadik Beg, a Kirghiz chief, brought

news of an anti-Chinese revolt in Kashgar and asked for a scion of the

_Khoja_ family to lead it. Buzurg Khan, last surviving son of Jahangir,

who lived in Khokand, was accordingly approached. He readily embraced

the opportunity and appointed Yakub Beg to command the tiny body of

sixty followers which constituted his entire military force, the _Khan_

of Khokand being naturally averse from parting with his soldiers in

face of the imminent Russian menace.

The little party of adventurers crossed the Tian Shan in mid-winter

without encountering any opposition, and in January 1865 reached

the neighbourhood of Kashgar. Meanwhile Sadik Beg had repented of

the invitation given to the _Khoja_ prince, and pointed out that

the Chinese were sure to reconquer Kashgar, where they would exact

stern retribution. But Yakub Beg, moulded in the school of adversity,

disregarded the warning and insisted on entering Kashgar, where

Buzurg Khan was received with enthusiasm and proclaimed _Khan_. The

new ruler, who was cowardly, idle and dissolute, immediately became

immersed in sensual pleasures, and Yakub Beg was left to deal with the

difficulties of the situation, which were almost overwhelming.

In the first place Sadik Beg soon changed his attitude and, from being

an ally, became an open enemy. Hostilities therefore commenced, which,

mainly through the personal exertions of Yakub Beg, ended in the defeat

of the Kirghiz chief, who fled to Tashkent.

Kashgar having been made fairly safe by this action, albeit the Chinese

held the cantonment with a force 7000 strong, Yakub Beg decided to

attack Yangi Hissar and Yarkand. He reached the latter city with a

small force, leaving troops to invest Yangi Hissar; but the dominant

_Khojas_ were hostile to his pretensions and were strong enough to

drive him back to Yangi Hissar. Nothing daunted, the indomitable

adventurer, with the aid of reinforcements from Kashgar, pressed the

siege of the Chinese cantonment at Yangi Hissar and finally captured

and put to death its garrison of 2000 men. He followed up this success

by enlisting the services of Sadik Beg, who had again appeared on the

scene, and also of a force from Badakshan.

But his new allies were only half-hearted, and when he was attacked by

a large force of Tunganis from Maralbashi he could only rely on his

own followers. The action, which was fought outside Yangi Hissar, was

nearly lost owing to the defection of the Kirghiz and Badakshanis, but

Yakub Beg stood his ground firmly and won a well-earned victory, the

immediate fruits of which included the submission of Yarkand.

The scene now shifts back to Kashgar, where the Chinese garrison

surrendered and was enrolled in the army of Yakub Beg as “New

Mussulman”; but the Amban, imitating the fine example of his colleague

at Yarkand, blew up himself and his followers in the fort. Yakub Beg

married the beautiful daughter of the Chinese general, and was much

influenced by this wife, who bore him many children.

For a short time it seemed as if all would go well, but the Tunganis

who had surrendered decided on a final bid for power at Yarkand and

treacherously attacked Yakub Beg. Buzurg Khan, too, at this juncture

deserted his general, whose position appeared desperate; but again

Yakub Beg’s remarkable courage saved the situation. He imposed his will

on the Tunganis by attacking and capturing Yarkand; then, marching on

Kashgar, he defeated Buzurg Khan, who had declared him a rebel. As a

sequel to this victory Buzurg Khan was deposed and finally expelled,

and Yakub Beg assumed the powers of his master. His position was

recognized by the Amir of Bokhara, who in 1866 conferred upon him the

title of _Atalik Ghazi_ or the “Champion Father”; but, on the other

hand, he had to reckon with the constant jealousy and hostility of

neighbouring Khokand, which was continually inflamed by Russia. The

capture of Khotan, which followed in 1867, ended his first successful

period of action, during which, in spite of inadequate means, he had

accomplished much.

While Yakub Beg was establishing his power in Kashgar, Yarkand and

Khotan, his chances of success were being increased by events in the

districts to the north of the range. The Taiping rebellion, which

raged from 1850 to 1864, had laid waste the richest provinces of China.

In 1855, apart from this convulsion, a fierce Moslem insurrection broke

out in Yunnan; and in 1862 there was a rebellion among the Moslems of

Shensi and Kansu, which gradually spread across the desert to the Ili

province, where the Tarantchis combined with the Tunganis against the

Chinese authorities. This rebellion was successful, and Ili was seized

in January 1866, when a Tungani-Tarantchi Government was formed, which

remained in power until the occupation of the province by Russia in

1871.

We now turn to Yakub Beg’s campaigns to the east of Kashgar. The

Tunganis and _Khojas_ of Aksu were not supported to any material

extent from Ili, and he therefore had mainly to deal with an already

defeated force when he commenced operations in 1867. Aksu, although

naturally a strong position, offered but slight resistance, and the

_Atalik_ marched on to Kucha, which he also captured. After receiving

the submission of Karashahr, Turfan, Hami, and Urumchi he returned in

triumph to Kashgar. He subsequently annexed the upland district of

Sarikol, carrying off its inhabitants and filling their place with

Yarkandis and Kirghiz.

It is probable that Yakub Beg was induced to resume operations against

the Tunganis as much by the difficulty of feeding and paying his army

as by ambition. In the autumn of 1869 he passed farther east to Korla,

which fell, and the series of campaigns was continued, generally with

success, until 1873, the Kashgar troops penetrating as far east as

Chightam, a small town to the east of Turfan. Little regard was paid

to the wretched inhabitants, who were plundered without mercy and

sometimes massacred, in accordance with the usual practice in Central

Asia. The _Atalik_ thus achieved military success, but he failed to

organize his conquests against the day when the slow-moving Chinese

Government should attempt to regain its lost provinces. On the other

hand, he probably could not control his troops, who would have deserted

had looting been forbidden. In any case his constant military successes

produced a great impression in the neighbouring states and spread his

fame far and wide.

Yakub Beg’s power was based on a mercenary force which was remarkable

for its heterogeneous composition. Just as his palace, which was

built and organized on the lines of barracks, was full of cannon of

every description, ranging from ancient Chinese pieces to modern

artillery, so his army included men from every neighbouring province.

The most trustworthy and efficient soldiers were Khokandis, who,

being strangers in the land, would naturally be loyal to their chief

and fellow-countryman, whereas the local peasantry made indifferent

fighters. An element numerically important, but for the most part of

untrustworthy quality, was the Tunganis, who served mainly from fear.

There were also a number of Indian and Afghan adventurers, some of the

former being deserters from the Indian army. The Chinese troops were

never used for distant campaigns.

The men above mentioned, who constituted the regular troops, were

divided into mounted infantry, artillery and infantry, the force

being increased by levies of Kirghiz, Dulanis and other irregulars of

doubtful military value. It is now believed that Yakub Beg had never

more than 20,000 trustworthy men in his service, although exaggerated

accounts of his strength were generally credited. His troops, owing

to his somewhat remarkable personality and many victories, were of

better fighting value than those of Khokand and Bokhara; but, as the

event proved, they were unable to cope with Chinese troops trained on

European lines, nor would they have withstood equal numbers of Russian

troops.

His government was based on the Moslem law, and was very onerous. It

must be recollected that he maintained a court and a large army, mainly

at the expense of perhaps a million poverty-stricken peasants, who,

in addition to paying the heavy taxes of nominally one-tenth of all

produce, were ground down by the unjust tax-collectors until their

condition was pitiable. Moreover, he kept a huge body of town police

and also a large force of secret police, whose united activities must

have added considerably to the general misery. The fact that he was a

strong ruler implied the imposition of heavier burdens on his unhappy

subjects. Moreover, during the period of his rule, trade with China

entirely ceased, to the great loss of the merchants, who had but little

commercial intercourse with Russia or India.

The relations of Yakub Beg with Russia were of primary importance to

him until the Celestial army re-entered Chinese Turkestan, and it

is consequently desirable to summarize them briefly. The _Atalik’s_

defence of Ak Masjid and his action before Tashkent have already

been mentioned and were not forgotten by the Russians, who in 1866

dismembered Khokand and defeated Bokhara. The establishment of his

power at Kashgar caused the Russians much anxiety, and their frontier

officials were at first instructed not to recognize Yakub Beg, but, at

the same time, to be conciliatory, in the illusive hope that this line

of action would induce the _Atalik_ to make overtures.

In pursuance of this fatuous policy the Russians requested sanction

to bridge the river Narin and to construct a road to Kashgar; but,

needless to say, these concessions were categorically refused. By way

of marking their displeasure the Muscovites began to construct a strong

fort at Narin; but their hands were tied by attempts on the part of the

Central Asian _Khanates_ to throw off their hated domination. Yakub

Beg, openly at any rate, preserved neutrality, and for five years the

struggle continued, with the result that the Russian yoke was riveted

more firmly than before on Khokand and Bokhara. To these preoccupations

the _Atalik_ probably owed his safety for the time being, as the

construction of Fort Narin was avowedly intended as a preliminary to

an attack on Kashgar, and it appears that an expedition destined for

that task in 1870 was at the last hour diverted against Khokand, which

unexpectedly revolted.

Later on the Russian authorities exchanged their somewhat menacing

policy for one of peaceful penetration and attempted to gain an

entry into Chinese Turkestan through their merchants. They also

sent a young officer to discuss various questions with Yakub Beg,

who in turn despatched one of his nephews to Russia. As, however,

his envoy was accorded no official recognition, little progress was

made in developing relations, and the _Atalik_ maintained towards

his formidable rival an uncompromising attitude, which convinced the

Russians that his power was much greater than was actually the case.

Accordingly, in 1872, although military preparations were continued, an

accredited envoy, Baron Kaulbars, was entrusted with the difficult task

of opening up official relations with the _Atalik_. He was received

by the gratified ruler with the extravagant expression of Oriental

hyperbole: “Sit on my knees, on my bosom, or where you like, for you

are guests sent to me from heaven.” For the first time complete freedom

was accorded to the envoy, and two Russian merchants who accompanied

the mission were granted every facility for visiting Yarkand and

Khotan. Baron Kaulbars was so fully impressed with a sense of the power

of his host that he regarded him as a potentate ranking with the Amir

of Afghanistan; and, owing to these impressions, a treaty of commerce,

satisfactory to both parties, was drawn up, Russian goods being

subjected to a maximum charge of 2½ per cent _ad valorem_. The envoy,

who had learnt a good deal about the country and had certainly scored a

great personal success, returned to Tashkent with glowing accounts of

the _Atalik_ and his dominions.

Another nephew of Yakub Beg’s, _Haji_ Tora by name, who had travelled

widely, was next despatched to Russia, where he was received with

much honour and entertained by the Tsar. From the court of the

Northern Power he went on to visit Constantinople, where he conducted

negotiations by which Yakub Beg, in return for an acknowledgment of his

independence, accepted the suzerainty of the Sultan and issued coins

bearing his effigy. Furthermore, as a mark of high favour, the _Atalik_

was gazetted an _Amir_, with the title of _Amin-ul-Muminin_ or “The

Trusted One of the Believers.”

The Russian authorities in Central Asia naturally took umbrage at an

alliance which united a leading Moslem power with their hereditary foe.

Moreover, relations with Yakub Beg were not developing smoothly; for,

realizing that his state would be overrun by Russian merchants, the

Amir decided to go back on the spirit of the treaty of commerce and to

discourage all Russian intruders. In the case of the first important

caravan to reach Kashgar, he kept the owners under surveillance

although he purchased their goods at a fair rate through one of his

agents. But, as the payment was made in debased coinage the merchant

stood to lose, and finally did lose, in spite of strenuous official

Russian support. A year later Yakub again changed his mind and

invited another Russian merchant to visit Kashgar. He received better

treatment, with the result that trade gradually increased. The chief

aim of Russia was to be permitted to appoint an Agent at Kashgar,

whereas Yakub Beg would only allow a _Caravanbashi_ or Superintendent

of caravans (a man of little standing or education) to reside at the

capital. In 1874 a Russian official was sent to arrange this question,

but Yakub Beg, relying on the support of Great Britain, was entirely

unyielding on the subject; indeed, his attitude towards Russia became

almost menacing. So much was this the case that in the autumn of the

same year the Russian authorities decided to break his power. They

had massed twenty thousand troops on the frontiers, when a revolt in

Khokand forced General Kaufmann to divert his forces. Had Yakub Beg

been a great man he would have seized the opportunity to aid Khokand,

and would thereby, in all probability, have given a serious set-back to

the Power which had resolved on his destruction. His inaction on this

occasion stamps him as an Oriental adventurer who kept the kingdom he

had won rather by good fortune than by signal capacity.

The relations of Yakub Beg with the Indian Empire were of little

permanent importance from the political point of view, but are of

considerable interest to the geographer and to the student of politics

and commerce. In the middle of the nineteenth century the British

representative in Ladak heard vague accounts of affairs in Chinese

Tartary, as it was then termed, from merchants, but gained little or

no accurate information, although the veil was lifted somewhat in 1857

by Adolph Schlagintweit, the first European to travel from India to

Yarkand and Kashgar. Unfortunately for him, Wali Khan was besieging

the Chinese cantonment of Kashgar at that time, and by his orders the

German explorer was murdered. Eight years later, in 1865, Johnson,[14]

an English surveyor, crossed the Kuen Lun to Khotan, where he was

received with much hospitality by its chief; but to Robert Shaw belongs

the credit of being the first Englishman to explore this unknown land

and open up relations with its ruler and people.

While he was living at Ladak an agent of Yakub Beg passed through,

bound for the Punjab, under orders from his master to report on the

neighbouring land. Shaw mentioned to this agent his intense desire to

visit Yarkand and Kashgar for the purpose of paying his respects to its

celebrated ruler. This proposal was almost immediately agreed to, and

late in 1868 Shaw crossed the Kara Koram and reached Yarkand safely.

His courage and resolution were evidently combined with considerable

tact, as throughout his journey he created an excellent impression both

on Yakub Beg and on his officials. The inopportune arrival of another

Englishman, Hayward, who was an explorer and also a trader, aroused

suspicions in the mind of the Oriental, and both men were treated for a

while as honoured state prisoners; but in the end they were sent back

to Ladak, thoroughly pleased with their reception.

Shaw’s reports excited intense interest, and created exaggerated

ideas both as to the power of Yakub Beg and as to the richness of the

prospective market. He had suggested to the _Atalik_ the appointment of

an agent for Chinese Turkestan at Lahore. This suggestion was accepted,

and the agent was the bearer of a cordial invitation to the Government

of India to despatch an official for the purpose of establishing

friendly relations and opening up trade.

Forsyth, a capable Indian civilian, was appointed to carry out this

mission, and, accompanied by Shaw, he reached Yarkand in 1870; but

unfortunately the _Atalik_ had just started off to his distant eastern

frontier, and Forsyth returned to India without accomplishing his

object.

Yakub Beg was as much disappointed as the British envoy at this

fiasco, and through the insistence of his agent Forsyth was again

appointed in 1873 to head a mission, which was of greater size than its

predecessor. Under him were Lieut.-Colonel Gordon, Captain Chapman and

Captain Trotter, who have all had distinguished careers. The caravan,

consisting of 400 animals, required elaborate supply preparations,

and great difficulty was experienced in crossing one of the passes,

the last hundred feet of which was a wall of ice. But in due course

Kargalik was reached, and thenceforward the mission was treated with

friendliness and sumptuous hospitality. In December 1873 the party

reached Kashgar, and Forsyth describes his reception as follows:

“According to etiquette we dismounted at about forty paces from the

gateway, and walked slowly along with the Head Chamberlain going

ahead. In the outer gateway soldiers were seated on a daïs with their

firearms laid on the ground before them, their arms folded and their

eyes on the ground. We then passed through a second gateway filled with

soldiers, and crossed another court, on all sides of which soldiers

in gay costumes were ranged seated. From this court we passed into

the penetralia, a small court in which not a soul was visible, and

everywhere a deathlike silence prevailed. At the further end of this

court was a long hall, with several window-doors. The Chamberlain then

led us in single file, with measured tread, to some steps at the side

of the hall, and entering almost on tiptoe looked in, and returning,

beckoned with his hand to me to advance alone. As I approached the

door he made a sign for me to enter, and immediately withdrew. I

found myself standing at the threshold of a very common-looking room;

looking about I saw enter at a doorway on the opposite side a tall

stout man, plainly dressed. He beckoned with his hand, and I advanced,

thinking it must be a chamberlain who was to conduct me to ‘The

Presence.’ Instinctively, however, I made a bow as I advanced, and soon

found myself taken by both hands and saluted with the usual form of

politeness, and I knew that I was standing before the far-famed ruler

of Eastern Turkestan.”

This interesting description shows that Forsyth took Yakub Beg very

much at his own valuation, and the fact that the British envoy agreed

to dismount at a distance from the gateway must, at any rate, have

raised the _Atalik_ in the eyes of his subjects.

At the formal interview a few days later the gifts, consisting mainly

of munitions, were presented, but Yakub Beg was chiefly pleased

with the autograph letter from Her Majesty, which was enclosed in a

magnificent casket. After exclaiming “Praise to Allah!” several times

he proceeded to declare his friendship for the British, referring

to the Queen as the sun “in whose genial rays such poor people as I

flourish.”

The mission remained four months at Kashgar, its labours culminating in

a treaty of commerce which was concluded in February 1874. By its terms

a 2½ per cent _ad valorem_ tax was to be levied on goods imported from

India, British trade thus being placed on the same favourable footing

as Russian.[15]

In addition to important surveys made along the main road, Gordon led

a party to the Pamirs, which were explored to some extent. Indeed the

Forsyth mission was a distinct success, if only because these surveys

proved beyond doubt that India could not be seriously invaded from the

Pamirs or from Chinese Turkestan. Moreover, it enlarged the horizon

of the authorities in India, and by the establishment of friendly

relations with Chinese Turkestan inaugurated a small but profitable

trade.

Yakub Beg, however, regarded the mission far otherwise, as to him it

signified an alliance, granting British protection against Russian

hostility, and, had he retained his power, constant appeals for aid

would have been received at Calcutta. As matters turned out, both Yakub

Beg and his family were destined to disappear from the stage of Central

Asia, and that speedily.

While the _Atalik_ was entertaining the Forsyth mission the Chinese

Government, having restored order at home, was preparing a formidable

force for the reconquest of its lost possessions beyond the Gobi. The

task was very difficult, owing to the width of the desert, estimated

at about 1200 miles, but the Chinese army was well disciplined,

well equipped, and well led, the difficulty as to supplies being

successfully overcome in a very simple manner. The advanced guard

sowed crops in one of the rare oases, and an abundant harvest was thus

provided in the following autumn.

As soon as this was gathered in, an army 50,000 strong advanced

without encountering any serious opposition, until in the spring of

1876 it reached the neighbourhood of Urumchi. The capture of this town

in August, followed by that of Manas, fully re-established Chinese

authority to the north of the Tian Shan.

The Celestials were now free to deal with Yakub Beg, whose position had

become unenviable. His refusal to aid Khokand in her last desperate

struggle with Russia must have lowered his prestige, while his

hostility to that power must have weakened his position; it was clear,

too, that Great Britain had no intention of supporting him with troops

or money. Apart from this, his heterogeneous force was no match for

the veteran Chinese army, to which, moreover, it was far inferior in

numbers and equipment.

In the spring of 1877 the Chinese main force marched on Turfan,

crossing the Tian Shan by the Devanchi Pass; while a second force,

10,000 strong, moved west from Hami in co-operation. Yakub Beg had

placed his main body for the defence of the Devanchi Pass, but while it

was holding this position news was received of the capture of Turfan

by the Hami column. A panic ensued, and, although the _Atalik_ fought

a rearguard action to the west of Turfan, he was obliged to retreat

to Karashahr, and later to Korla. Before this defeat Yakub Beg had

sought aid from Russia, but in vain, partly because Kuropatkin (then

a captain) had visited his camp and reported most unfavourably on his

position.

For some unexplained reason, probably from lack of supplies, the

Chinese army remained immobile for several months, while events were

moving fast in the enemy camp, where the star of Yakub Beg was setting

in gloom. After losing the eastern part of his territory the _Atalik_

became morose and a danger to his courtiers. According to trustworthy

information gained by me in Kashgar, the actual cause that led up to

his death was a savage flogging, inflicted without any adequate reason,

on one of his officials. This alarmed Niaz Hakim Beg, one of his

principal followers, who poisoned him.

Thus died Yakub Beg, who for a period of twelve years had played a

leading rôle on the stage of Central Asia. He was fortunate, as one

of his titles of _Bedolat_ signified, inasmuch as he quitted Khokand

just before its fall and successfully founded a state only a few

marches off. He was fortunate in his dealings with Russia, which

would have crushed him, but for more serious tasks which stayed her

hand, and finally he was fortunate in being killed just as his kingdom

was falling from his grasp. Among the chiefs of Central Asia he was a

man of capacity, and he was undoubtedly brave and resolute; but his

outlook was narrow, as was inevitable from his environment. He remained

alert and virile to the end, and was not addicted to the vice or

self-indulgence that ruins many members of the upper classes in Central

Asia. Although the stage he trod was circumscribed, Yakub Beg is the

only Moslem of the nineteenth century in Central Asia whose name will

live.

The death of the _Atalik_ was followed by a period of confusion. One of

his sons escorted his father’s corpse to Kashgar. There he was murdered

by his elder brother Beg Kuli Beg, who succeeded to the throne, but not

unchallenged, as a certain Hakim Khan Torah was able to seize Karashahr

and Korla, and there were also outbreaks at Khotan. The new ruler in

the end overcame his rivals, but in the effort exhausted his resources

to a dangerous extent and made the way still easier for the Chinese.

The final operations for the recovery of Kashgar and Yarkand were

conducted on somewhat the same lines as the first. The main force

assembled to the north of the Tian Shan and, using a little-known pass,

descended in overwhelming strength on Aksu, while a second column drove

the Moslems before it to Karashahr and on to Kucha, where a hard-fought

battle was won by the Chinese; and in December 1877 the campaign was

brought to a successful conclusion by the capture of Kashgar.

The Celestials showed moderation in the hour of victory. They deprived

the population of their horses, to prevent a fresh rising, but they

appointed Moslem headmen and also recognized the religious law of

Islam. Their strong position was acknowledged by Russia in 1881, when,

by the Treaty of St. Petersburg, that Power restored Kulja to the

Chinese, receiving in return the post of Irkeshtam, two stages on the

eastern side of the Tian Shan. By the same treaty freedom of trade was

secured, and this agreement is still in force.

In the last two decades of the nineteenth century great forward strides

were made in the direction of Chinese Turkestan both by Great Britain

and by Russia. The former Power, thanks to the energy and activity of

Younghusband (a nephew of Robert Shaw) and other travellers, realized

the importance of exploring the passes through which India could be

threatened, if not invaded, from Russian Turkestan. A second aim was

the control of the No Man’s Land which lay between the fertile valley

of Kashmir and the plain of Chinese Turkestan. To this end British

Political officers were stationed at Gilgit and Chitral, supported by

the Imperial Service troops of the Maharaja of Kashmir.

During this period Russia also displayed considerable activity in the

exploration and occupation of the No Man’s Land bordering on Russian

Turkestan. One of her most active agents, Captain Grombchevsky, visited

the hill state of Hunza in 1888, meeting Younghusband in the following

year on the upper reaches of the Yarkand River. In 1891 Younghusband

travelled in Wakhan, and at the stage of Bozai Gumbaz met Colonel

Yonoff, who had issued a proclamation that the Pamirs (with the sole

exception of the Taghdumbash Pamir) were Russian territory. That

officer subsequently received instructions to escort Younghusband back

to Chinese territory. He showed good feeling about his disagreeable

task, and as Younghusband agreed, under protest, to proceed to Chinese

Turkestan, he waived the instructions relating to escort. Upon this

incident being reported, the Russian Government apologized for Yonoff’s

act, and the two Powers finally decided to despatch a commission to

settle their respective claims in a country visited hitherto merely by

a few travellers. In 1895 the commission met, and by its findings the

narrow strip of Wakhan was awarded to the Amir of Afghanistan, with

the result that the boundary of the British Empire was drawn in this

section some thirty miles to the north of the crest line of the Hindu

Kush.

The great revolution which had broken out in China in 1911 began to

make itself felt in its remote western provinces in the following

spring. The first outbreak occurred in the district of Ili, where a

young officer entered into a conspiracy against the Tartar general,

with whom he had a private quarrel. The conspiracy was entirely

successful, and resulted not only in the murder of the general, but

in the capture of the machinery of government. As the revolution

progressed in China, the republic was proclaimed in Ili, and after

the defeat of a force despatched from Urumchi the Ili rebels became

undisputed rulers of the surrounding country.

The unrest soon affected Urumchi itself, where Chinese rowdies, members

of a secret society which existed for the sake of loot and blackmail,

began to demonstrate in favour of the republican cause and to show

their sympathy by acts of robbery and incendiarism. The governor,

however, was no weakling, and realizing that the loyalty of the regular

troops was very doubtful, he enlisted Tunganis in considerable numbers,

through whose instrumentality he was able to control the situation for

a time. Subsequently he dealt so mercilessly with every one suspected

of being a member of the secret society, slowly slicing to death

innocent and guilty alike, that the Chinese population rose and drove

him out of Urumchi.

In April of this year the outward calm hitherto maintained in Kashgar

was rudely disturbed by the murder of the _Taotai_ and the Prefect

of Aksu. Upon the arrival of the telegram announcing this deed,

the Kashgar _Taotai_ immediately cut off his queue and issued a

proclamation advising the Chinese to follow his example. Moreover, he

had a scroll prepared with the inscription, “Long live the Chinese

Republic!” which he hung up in his yamen. After some hesitation the

leading Chinese officials followed the example of the governor, the

commander-in-chief of the province not only cutting off his queue and

flying the flag of the Republic, but donning a nondescript European

cap. The united officials then solemnly changed their chronological

system from the fourth year of Hsuang-tang, the boy-emperor, to the

first year of the Chinese Republic, an act which possessed tremendous

significance in their eyes. The soldiers were by no means ready to

follow the lead of their superior officers, but maintained a sullen

and resentful attitude, which boded ill for the safety of the higher

officials, military and civil alike.

Meanwhile Yuan-Shih-Kai had been informed by telegram of the adherence

of the New Dominion to the Republic and had appointed the governor of

Kashgar to Urumchi, hoping by this means to end the state of hostility

which still existed between Ili and Urumchi. The governor of Kashgar at

first refused the appointment, pleading his age and weak health, but

in the end accepted it. The actual position, therefore, was that the

Republic had been acknowledged throughout the province, and that the

Chinese officials were all obeying the instructions of Yuan-Shih-Kai.

It might have been supposed that the crisis had passed without

bloodshed, but this was not so. At night a band of fifty Chinese,

members of a secret society, forced their way into the yamens of the

governor and of the city magistrate. The governor, who was awake, was

greeted with the ironical exclamation,“Greetings to Your Excellency,”

and both he and his wife were cut to pieces. The magistrate was also

killed and the republican flags in the two yamens were cut down and

destroyed.