mediæval days were undoubtedly near Panjdeh, at the confluence of the
Kushk and Murghab rivers, and at Merv-el-Rud, or Maruchak. Two or
three obvious routes lead from the passes above Kaman-i-Bihist, or
above Herat, to Panjdeh and Maruchak. One is indicated by the drainage
of the Kushk River, and the other by that of the Kashan, which is more
or less parallel to the Kushk to the east of it, with desolate Chol
country in between. From Herat the most direct route to Panjdeh and
Merv is by the Babar Pass, or by Korokh, the Zirmast Pass, and Naratu.
Korokh (Karuj) is mentioned both by Ibn Haukel and Idrisi as being
situated three marches from Herat, surrounded by entrenchments, and in
the "gorge of mountains," with gardens and orchards and vines. The
Korokh of to-day is between the mountains, but only some twenty-five
miles from Herat. This modern Korokh has, however, many evidences of
great antiquity, and it is on the high-road to an important group of
passes leading past Naratu to Bala Murghab and Maruchak. The most
remarkable feature about Korokh is a grove of pine trees closely
resembling the "stone" pine of Italy, which mass themselves into a
dark blotch on the landscape and mark Korokh in this treeless country
most conspicuously. There are no other trees of the same sort to be
found now in this part of Asia, but I was told that they once were
abundant in the Herat valley, which renders it possible that the
"arar" trees, mentioned by Ibn Haukel as a peculiar source of revenue
to Bousik, may have been of this species. Naratu, again, is very
ancient, and its position among the hills (for it is a hill-fortress)
seems to identify it with Dahertan. Undoubtedly this was one of the
most important of the old routes northward, and it is a route of which
account should be taken to-day.
In the Kuskh River more than one ancient site was observed, Kila Maur
being obviously one of the most important, whilst in the Kashan stream
there were evidences of former occupation at Torashekh and at
Robat-i-Kashan. Whilst there is a general vague resemblance between
the names of certain old Arab towns and places yet to be found in the
Herat valley and Badghis, it is only here and there that it has been
possible to identify the precise position of a mediæval site. The
dependencies of Badghis, enumerated by Idrisi, require the patient and
careful researches of a Stein to place them accurately on the basis
of such vague definitions as are given. We are merely told that
Kanowar and Kalawun are situated at a distance of three miles one from
the other, and that between them there is neither running water nor
gardens. "The people drink from wells and from rain-water. They
possess cultivated fields, sheep, and cattle." Such a description
would apply excellently well to any two contiguous villages in the
Chol country anywhere between the Kushk and the Kashan. Those rolling,
wave-like hills, with their marvellous spread of grass and flowers in
summer, and their dreary, wind-scoured bareness in winter, are
excellent for sheep and cattle at certain seasons of the year; but
water is only to be found at intervals, and there are much wider
distances than three miles where not even wells are to be found.
Writing again of Herat, Idrisi says that, starting towards the east in
the direction of Balkh, one encounters three towns in the district of
Kenef: Tir, Kenef, and Lakshur; and that they are all about equally
distant, it being one day's journey to Tir, one more to Kenef, and
another to Lakshur (Lacschour). Tir is a rich town where the "prince
of the country" resides, larger than Bousik, full of commerce and
people, with brick-built houses, etc. Kenef is as large, but more
visited by foreigners; and Lakshur is equal to either. They are all of
them big towns of commercial importance, Lakshur being bounded on the
west by the Merv-el-Rud province, of which the capital is
Merv-el-Rud.
Assuming for the present that Maruchak, on the Murghab, represents
Merv-el-Rud (Merv of the River), where are we to place these three
important sites, so that the last shall be east of the Maruchak
province and only three days' journey from Herat? The distance from
Herat to Maruchak is not less than 150 miles, and it is called by
Idrisi a six days' journey. Starting towards the east can only refer
to the Balkh route already referred to, _i.e._ _via_ Korokh and the
Zirmast Pass. It cannot mean the Hari Rud valley, for that leads to
Bamian rather than Balkh. By the Korokh route, however, it is possible
to follow a more direct line to Balkh than any which would pass by
Maruchak or Bamian. There is on this route, east of Naratu and
south-east of Maruchak, a place called Langar which might possibly
correspond to Lakshur, and it is not more than 70 to 80 miles from
Herat. From Langar there is an easy pass leading over the
Band-i-Turkistan more or less directly to Maimana and Balkh, and it
seems probable that this was a recognized khafila route. Tir is an
oft-repeated name in the Herat district. The river itself was called
Tir west of Herat, and there is the bridge of Tir (Tir-pul) just above
Kuhsan. The mountains, again, to the north-east are known as Tir
Band-i-Turkistan, and the Tir mentioned as on the road to Balkh must
certainly have been east of Herat. Of Kenef I can trace no evidence.
It must have been close to Korokh.
That this route, through the Korokh valley and across the
water-parting by the Zirmast Pass to Naratu, was the high road between
Herat and Balkh I have very little doubt. It was the route selected
for mail service during the winter when the Afghan Boundary Commission
camp was at Bala Murghab, on the Murghab River, and it was seldom
closed by snow, although the Zirmast heights rise to over 7000 feet,
and the Tir Band-i-Turkistan (which represents the northern _rebord_
or revetment of the uplands which contain the Murghab drainage) cannot
be much less. The intense bitterness of a Northern Afghan winter is
more or less spasmodic. It is only the dreaded shamshir (the
"scimitar" of the north-west) which is dangerous, and travelling is
possible at almost every season of the year. The condition of the
mountain ways and passes immediately above Bala Murghab is not that of
steep and difficult tracks across a rugged and rocky divide. In most
cases it is possible to ride over them, or, indeed, off them, in
almost any direction; but as these mountains extend eastward they
alter the character of their crests. From Herat to Maruchak this is
not, however, the direct road; the Kushk River, or the Kashan,
offering a much easier line of approach.
All our investigations in 1884 tended to prove beyond dispute that
Maruchak represents the famous old city of Merv-el-Rud, the "Merv of
the River," to which every Arab geographer refers. Sir Henry Rawlinson
sums up the position in the Royal Geographical Society's _Proceedings_
(vol. viii.), when he points out that there were two Mervs known to
the ancient geographer. One is the well-known Russian capital in
trans-Caspia, the "Merv of the Oasis," a city which, in conjunction
with Herat and Balkh, formed the tripolis of primitive Aryan
civilization. It was to this place that Orodis, the Parthian king,
transported the Roman soldiers whom he had taken prisoners in his
victory over Crassus, and here they seemed to have formed a
flourishing colony.
Merv was in early ages a Christian city, and Christian congregations,
both Jacobite and Nestorian, flourished at Merv from about A.D. 200
till the conquest of Persia by the Mahomedans. Merv the greater has as
stirring a history as any in Asia, but Merv-el-Rud, which was 140
miles south of the older Merv, is altogether of later date. This city
is said to have been built by architects from Babylonia in the fifth
century A.D., and was flourishing at the time of the Arab invasion.
All this Oxus region (Tokharistan) was then held by a race of
Skytho-Aryans (white Huns) called Tokhari or Kushan, and their
capital, Talikhan, was not far from Maruchak. Now, Merv-el-Rud is the
only great city named in history on the Upper Murghab, above Panjdeh,
before the end of the fourteenth century A.D. After that date, in the
time of Shah Rokh (Timur's son), the name Merv-el-Rud disappears, and
Maruchak takes its place in all geographical works, the inference
being that, Merv-el-Rud being destroyed in Timur's wars, Maruchak was
built in its immediate neighbourhood. This surmise of Rawlinson's is
confirmed by the appearance of Maruchak, which is but an insignificant
collection of inferior buildings surrounded by a mud wall, with a
labyrinth of deep canal cuttings in front of it and a rough irregular
stretch of untilled country around. Merv-el-Rud must have been a much
greater place.
There are, however, abundant evidences of grass-covered ruins, both
near Maruchak and at the junction of the Chaharshamba River with the
Murghab some 10 miles above Maruchak. Sir Henry Rawlinson points out
the strategic value of this point, as the Chaharshamba route leads
nearly straight into the Oxus plains and to Balkh. At the point of the
junction of the two rivers the valley of the Murghab hardly affords
room enough for a town of such importance as we are led to believe
Merv-el-Rud to have been, even after making all due allowance for
Oriental exaggeration. It is only about Maruchak that the valley
widens out sufficiently to admit of a large town. It seems probable,
therefore, that the site of Maruchak must be near the site of
Merv-el-Rud, although it does not actually command the entrance to
the Chaharshamba valley and the road to Afghan Turkistan.
On this road, some 30 miles from the junction of the rivers, there is
to be seen on the slopes which flank the southern hills, the jagged
tooth-edged remains of a very old town (long deserted) which goes by
the name of Kila Wali. It is here, or close by, that the Tochari
planted their capital Talikan, at one time the seat of government of a
vast area of the Oxus basin. There is, however, another Talikan[7] in
Badakshan to the east of Balkh, and there are symptoms that some
confusion existed between the two in the minds of our mediæval
geographers. Ibn Haukel writes of Talikan as possessing more wholesome
air than Merv-el-Rud, and he refers to the river running between the
two. This is evidently in reference to the capital of Tocharistan at
Kila Wali. Again when he writes of Talikan as the largest city in
Tocharistan, "situated on a plain, near mountains," he is correct
enough as applied to Kila Wali, but this has nothing to do with
Andarab and Badakshan with which we find it directly associated in the
context.
On the other hand the Talikan in Badakshan was one of a group of
important cities whose connection with India lay through Andarab and
the northern passes of the Hindu Kush. Between Maruchak and Panjdeh,
along the banks of the Murghab, are ruins innumerable, the sites of
other towns which it is impossible to identify with precision. There
can be little doubt, however, that the remains of the bridge which
once spanned the river at a point between Maruchak and Panjdeh marked
the site of Dizek (or Derak, according to Idrisi), which we know to
have been built on both sides of the river, and that Khuzan existed
near where Aktapa now is (_i.e._ near Panjdeh). The name Dizek is
still to be recognized, but it is applied to a curious sequence of
ancient Buddhist caves which have been carved out of the cliffs at
Panjdeh, and not to any site on the river banks.
The confusion which occasionally exists between places bearing the
same name in mediæval geographical annals is very obvious in Idrisi's
description of Merv. The greater Merv (the Russian provincial capital)
is clearly mixed up in his mind with the lesser Merv when, in
describing the latter, he says that Merv-el-Rud is situated in a plain
at a great distance from mountains, and that its territory is fertile
but sandy; three grand mosques and a citadel adorn an eminence and
water is brought to it by innumerable canals, all of which is
applicable to Merv but not to Merv-el-Rud. He then continues with a
description of the greater Merv, which is quite apropos to that
locality, and makes it clear incidentally that Khiva (not Merv)
represents the ancient Khwarezm. Again, he enumerates towns and places
of Mahomedan origin which are "dependent" on "Merv." Amongst them we
find Mesiha, a pretty, well-cultivated place one day's journey to the
west of Merv; Jirena (Behvana), a market-town 9 miles from Merv, and 3
from Dorak (? Dizek), a place situated on the banks of the river; then
Dendalkan, an important town two days from Merv on the road to
Sarakhs; Sarmakan, a large town to the left of Dorak and 3 miles
farther, Dorak being situated on the banks of the river at 12 miles
from Merv in the direction of Sarakhs; Kasr Akhif (or Ahnef), a little
town at one day's distance from Merv on the road to Balkh; Derah, a
small town 12 miles from Kasr Ahnef where grapes were abundant. Here,
says Idrisi, the river divides the town in two parts which are
connected by a bridge. It is quite impossible to straighten out this
geographical enumeration, unless we assume that it refers to
Merv-el-Rud and not to Merv. Then Mesiha becomes a possibility, and
might be looked for among the ruined sites on the Kushk
River--possibly at Kila Maur. Dorak, at 12 miles from Merv in the
direction of Sarakhs, and Dendalkan at two days' journey in the same
direction, would still be on the river banks. Kasr Ahnef we know to
have been built after the Arab invasion in the valley of the Murghab,
about 12 miles from Khuzan (identified by Rawlinson with Ak Tepe) and
15 from Merv-el-Rud, and must have been situated near the
Band-i-Nadir, where the desert road to Balkh enters the hills. Ak Tepe
must once have been a place of great importance, both strategically
(as it commands the position of the two important highways southward
to Herat, the Kushk and the Murghab valleys) and commercially. But
apparently its importance did not survive to Arab times. Dendalkan was
certainly near Ak Tepe.
In making our surveys of this historic district it was exceedingly
difficult to associate the drab and dreary landscape of this Chol
(loess) country and its intersecting rivers with such a scene of busy
commercial life as the valleys must have presented in Arab times. The
Kushk is at best a "dry" river, as its name betokens, an
unsatisfactory driblet in a world of sandy desolation. Reeds and
thickets hide its narrow ways, and it is only where its low banks
recede on either hand as it emerges into the flat plains above Panjdeh
that there is room for anything that could by courtesy be called a
town. The Murghab River shows better promise.
Below Maruchak, where towns once crowded, it widens into green spaces,
and the multiplicity and depth of the astonishing system of canals
which distribute the waters of the river on its left bank leave no
room to doubt the strength of the former population that constructed
them. Where the pheasants breed now in myriads, in reedy swamps and
scrubby thickets, there may lie hidden the foundations of many an old
town with its caravanserais, its mosques, and its baths. The economic
value of the Murghab River is still great in Northern Afghanistan. No
one watching the sullen flood pouring past Bala Murghab in the winter
time and looking up to the dark doors of the mountains from whence it
seems to emerge, could have any idea of the wealth and fertility and
the spread of its usefulness which is to be found on the far side of
those doors. From its many cradles in the Firozkohi uplands to its
many streamlets reaching out round Merv and turning the desert into a
glorious field of fertility, the Murghab does its duty bravely in the
world of rivers, and well deserves all that has ever been written in
its praise by past generations of geographers.
Amongst the many high-roads of Northern Afghanistan which are
mentioned by the Arab writers, none is more frequently referred to
than the road from Herat to Balkh, _i.e._ to Afghan Turkistan.
Intervening between Herat and Afghan Turkistan there is immediately
north the easy round-backed range called by various names which have
been lumped under the term Paropamisus, down the northern slopes of
which the Kushk and Kashan made a fairly straight way through the sea
of rounded slopes and smooth steep-sided hills which constitute the
Chol. But this range is but an extension of the southern rampart of
the Firozkohi upland, which forms the upper basin of the Murghab and
overlooks the narrow valley of the Hari Rud.
The northern rampart or buttress of that upland is the Tir
Band-i-Turkistan, the western flank of which is turned by the Murghab
River as it makes its way northward. So that there are several ways by
which Afghan Turkistan may be reached from Herat. Setting aside the
Hari Rud route to Bamian or Kabul, which would be a difficult and
lengthy detour for the purpose of reaching Balkh, there is the route
we have already mentioned _via_ Korokh, Naratu, and Langar, and thence
over the Band-i-Turkistan, or down the Murghab. But there is another
and probably the most trodden way, _via_ the Kashan to the Murghab
valley at the junction of the Chaharshamba River, and up that river to
the divide at its head, passing over into the Kaisar drainage, and so,
either to Andkhui and the Oxus, or to Maimana and Balkh. This was the
route made use of generally by the Russo-Afghan Boundary Commission,
and the existence of ancient tanks (called "Haoz") and of "robats" (or
halting-places) at regular intervals in the Kashan valley, testifies
to its use at no very ancient date.
The entrance to the Chaharshamba valley is very narrow, so narrow as
to preclude the possibility of any large town ever having occupied
this position; but it opens out as one passes the old Kila Wali ruins
where there is ample space for the old capital of Tocharistan to have
existed. On the north, trailing streams descend from the Kara Bel
plateau (a magnificent grass country in summer and a cold scene of
windy desolation in winter), and their descent is frequently through
treacherous marshes and shining salt pitfalls, making it exceedingly
difficult to follow them to the plateau edge. To the south are the
harder features of the Band-i-Turkistan foothills, the crest of the
long black ridge of this Band being featureless and flat, as is
generally the case with the boundary ridges and revetments of a
plateau country. Over the Chaharshamba divide (at about 2800 feet) and
into the Kaisar drainage is an introduction to a country that is
beautiful with the varied beauty of low hill-tops and gentle slopes,
until one either by turning north, debouches into the flat desert
plains of the Oxus at Daolatabad, or continuing more easterly, arrives
at Maimana, the capital of the little province of Almar, the centre of
a small world of highly cultivated and populous country, and a town
which must from its position represent one or other of the ancient
trade centres mentioned by Idrisi. Here we leave behind the long lines
of Turkman kibitkas looking like rows of black bee-hives in the
snow-spread distance, and find the flat-roofed substantial houses of a
settled Uzbek population, with flourishing bazaars and a general
appearance of well-being inside the mud walls of the town.
Idrisi writes that Talikan is built at the foot of a mountain which is
part of the Jurkan range (Band-i-Turkistan), and that it is on the
"paved" route between Merv and Balkh. This at once indicates that
route as an important one compared with other routes (there being a
desert route across the Karabel plateau from near Panjdeh in addition
to those already mentioned), although there is no sign of any serious
road-making to be detected at present. Sixty miles from Talikan, on
the road to Balkh, Idrisi places Karbat, a town not so large as
Talikan but more flourishing and better populated. The distance
reckoned along the one possible route here points to Maimana, which is
just 60 miles from Talikan, but there is no other indication of
identity. Karbat was a dependency of the province of Juzjan (or
Jurkan, probably Guzwan), and 54 miles to the east of it was the town
of Aspurkan, a small town, itself 54 miles from Balkh. Now Balkh, by
any possible route, is at least 130 to 140 miles from Maimana, but if
we assume Aspurkan to have been just half-way (as Idrisi makes it)
between Maimana and Balkh, we find Sar-i-pul (a small place
indifferently supplied with water, and thus answering Idrisi's
description of Aspurkan) almost exactly in that position. In support
of this identification of Aspurkan with Sar-i-pul there is the name
Aspardeh close to Sar-i-pul. Other places are mentioned by Idrisi as
flourishing centres of trade and industry in this singularly favoured
part of Afghanistan, where the low spurs and offshoots of the
Band-i-Turkistan break gently into the Oxus plains. He says that
Anbar, one day's march to the south-west of Aspurkan, was a larger
place than Merv-el-Rud, with vineyards and gardens surrounding it and
a fair trade in cloth. There, both in summer and winter, the chief of
the country resided. Two days from Aspurkan, and one from Karbat, was
the Jewish colony of Yahudia, a walled town with a good commercial
business. This colony is also mentioned by Ibn Haukel as situated in
the district of Jurkan. From Yahudia to Shar (a small town in the
hills) was one day's march. The main road south-west from Sar-i-pul
has probably remained unchanged through the centuries. It runs to
Balangur (? Bala Angur) and Kurchi, the former being 10 miles and the
latter 30 from Sar-i-pul. Either might represent the site of Anbar.
Twenty miles from Kurchi is Belchirag, and Belchirag is about 25 from
Maimana. It would thus represent the site of the ancient Yahudia
fairly well, whilst 25 to 30 miles from Belchirag we find Kala Shahar,
a small town in the mountains, still existing. Jurkan is described as
a town by Idrisi (and as a district by Ibn Haukel), built between two
mountains, three short marches from Aspurkan, and Zakar is another
commercial town two marches to the south-east. I should identify
Jirghan of our maps with Jurkan, and Takzar with Zakar.
All this part of Afghan Turkistan is rich in agricultural
possibilities. The Uzbek population of the towns and the Ersari
Turkmans of the deserts beyond Shibarghan are all agriculturists, and
the land is great in fruit. They are a peaceful people, hating the
Afghan rule and praying for British or any other alternative.
Shibarghan is an insignificant walled town with a small garrison of
Afghan Kasidars; always in straits for water in the dry season. The
road between Shibarghan and Sar-i-pul is flat, skirting the edge of
the rolling Chol to the east of it. Sar-i-pul itself is but a small
walled town in rotten repair, sheltering a few Kasidars and two guns,
but no regular Afghan troops. There are a few Jews there who make and
sell wine, and a few Peshawur bunniahs (shopkeepers).
From Sar-i-pul a direct road runs to Bamian and Kabul _via_ Takzar to
the south-east, and strikes the hill country almost at once after
leaving Sar-i-pul. It surmounts a high divide (about 11,000 feet), and
crosses the Balkh Ab valley to reach Bamian. There is another route up
the Astarab stream leading to Chiras at the head of the Murghab River
and into the Hazara highlands; but these were never trade routes
except for local purposes. The Hazaras send down to the plain their
camel hair-cloth and receive many of the necessities of life in
exchange, but there is no through traffic.
The characteristics of the Astarab road are typical of this part of
Afghanistan. After passing Jirghan the valley is shut in by
magnificent cliffs from 700 to 1000 feet high. The vista is closed by
snow peaks to the south, which, with the brilliancy of up-springing
crops on the banks of the river, form a picture of almost Alpine
beauty. There is, curiously enough, an entire absence of forest in
the valley, but blocks of a soft white clay mixed with mica lend a
weird whiteness to its walls, dazzling the eye, and making patchwork
of Nature's colouring. Snakes abound in great numbers, mostly
harmless, but the deadly "asp-i-mar" is amongst them. There is a
yellow variety which is freely handled by the Uzbeks, who call this
snake Kamchin-i-Shah-i-Murdan. About eight miles beyond Jirghan the
Uzbek population ceases. From this point there are only Firozkohis and
some few Taimanis who have been ejected from the Hari Rud valley for
their misdeeds. They are all robbers by profession, supporting
existence by slave trading. They kidnap girls and boys from the Hazara
villages of the highlands and trade them to the Uzbeks in exchange for
guns, ammunition, and horses. These Taimani robbers are by no means
the only slave dealers. Nearly every well-to-do establishment in
Afghan Turkistan has one or two Hazara slaves. The prices paid, of
course, vary, but 300 krans each was paid for two girls bought in
1883. Expert native authorities have a very high opinion of the
handiness of Hazara slave girls. They are good at needlework, turning
out most exquisite embroidery, and they are never idle.
The narrowness of the Astarab gorge renders it impossible to follow
the river along the whole of its course. The road finally leaves the
valley and strikes up to the plateau on its left bank. One remarkably
persistent feature in these valley formations is the existence of two
plateau levels, or terraces; that immediately overlooking the valley
being sometimes 100 feet lower than the second platform which is
thrown back for a considerable distance, leaving a broad terrace
formation between the line of its cliff edge and that bordering the
stream. Occasionally there is more than one such terrace indicating
former geologic floors of the valley.
On gaining the plateau level a very remarkable scene opens out--a
broad green dasht, or plain, slopes away to a sharp line westwards
bordered by glittering cliffs and intersected by the white line of the
road. In the midst of this setting of white and green are the remains
of what must once have been a town of considerable importance, which
goes by the name locally of the Shahar-i-Wairan, or ancient city. Such
buildings as remain are of sun-dried brick; there appears to be no
indication of the usual wall or moat surrounding this city, and
nothing suggestive of a canal or "karez"; nothing, in short, but
scattered ruins covering about one and a half square miles. The
kabristan (or graveyard) was easily recognizable, and its vast size
furnished some clue to the size of the city. All history, all
tradition even, about this remarkable place seems lost in oblivion;
but a city of such pretensions must have had a fair place in geography
from very early times. It seems improbable, however, that it could
have been more than a summer residence in its palmy days, for winter
at this elevation (nearly 7000 feet) and in such an exposed locality
would be very severe indeed. The only indication which can be derived
from Idrisi's writings is the reference to the small town in the
mountains called Shah (Shahar) one day's march from the Jewish colony
of Yahudia. As already explained there is a Kila Shahar some 25 to 30
miles from Yahudia (if we accept the position of Belchirag as more or
less representing that place), but the Shahar-i-Wairan is nearer by
some 10 miles, and fits better into the geographical scheme. I should
be inclined to identify the Shahar-i-Wairan with the ancient Shahar
(or Shah) and the Kila Shahar as a later development of the same
place. The point, however, to be specially noted about this
geographical theory is that there is no route by which camels can pass
either over the Band-i-Turkistan or the mountains enclosing the Balkh
Ab from the district of Sangcharak southward. The province of
Sangcharak, which corresponds roughly to the ancient district of
Jurkan (or Gurkan), is rich throughout, with highly cultivated valleys
and a dense population, but it is a sort of geographical cul-de-sac.
Communication with the plains of the Oxus and with Balkh (by the lower
reaches of the Balkh Ab) is easy and frequent, but there never could
have been a khafila road over the rugged plateau land and mountains
which divide it from the basin of the Helmund.
From time immemorial efforts have been made to reach Kabul by the
direct route from Herat which is indicated by the remarkable lie of
the Hari Rud valley. It was never recognized as a trade route,
although military expeditions have passed that way; and it has always
presented a geographical problem of great interest. From Herat
eastwards, past Obeh as far as Daolatyar, there is no great difficulty
to be overcome by the traveller, although the route diverges from the
main valley for a space. Between Daolatyar and the head of
Sar-i-jangal stream (which is the source and easternmost affluent of
the Hari Rud) the valley is well populated and well cultivated, with
abundant pasturage on the hills. But the winter here is severe. From
the middle of November to the middle of February snow closes all the
roads, and even after its disappearance the deep clayey tracks are
impassable even for foot travellers. In the neighbourhood of a small
fort called Kila Sofarak, about 40 miles from Daolatyar, there is a
parting of the ways. Over the water-parting at the head of the stream
by the Bakkak Pass a route leads into the Yakulang valley, a
continuation of the Band-i-Amir, or river of Balkh, which, in the
course of its passage through the gorges of the mountains, here forms
a series of natural aqueducts uniting seven narrow and deep lakes.
Inexpressibly wild and impressive is the character of the scenery
surrounding those deep-set lakes in the depths of the Afghan hills.
Near the lakes are the ruins of two important towns or fortresses,
Chahilburj, and Khana Yahudi. On a high rock between them are the
ruins of Shahr-i-Babar the capital of kings who ruled over a country
most of which must have been included in the Hazara highlands, and was
probably more or less conterminous with the Bamian of Idrisi. Between
the Yakulang and the Bamian valley is a high flat watershed. Looking
north-west a vast broken plateau, wrinkled and corrugated by minor
ranges, and scored by deep valleys and ravines, fills up the whole
space from the mountains standing about the source of the Murghab and
Hari Rud to the Kunduz River of Badakshan.
So little is this part of modern Afghanistan known, that it may be as
well to give a short description of the existing lines of
communication connecting the Oxus plains and Herat with Bamian and
Kabul, before attempting to follow out their mediæval adaptation to
commercial intercourse.
From Balkh, or Mazar-i-Sharif, or from Deh Dadi (the new fortified
position near Mazar) the most direct routes southward either follow
the Balkh Ab valley to Kupruk and the Zari affluent, and then crossing
the Alakah ridge pass into the river valley again, and so reach the
Band-i-Amir and the head of the river at Yakulang; or passing by the
Darra Yusuf (a most important affluent of the Balkh River) attain more
directly to Bamian. Balkh and Mazar lie close together on the open
plain, and about 10 miles to the south of them rises the northern wall
of the plateau called Elburz, through which the Balkh River, and other
drainage of the plateau, forces its passage. Thus the whole course of
the Balkh River, from its head to within a mile or two of Balkh, lies
within a deep and narrow ditch cut out from the plateau which fills up
the space from the Elburz to the great divide of Central Afghanistan.
East and west of the Balkh River the plateau increases in elevation as
it reaches southward, culminating in knolls or peaks 12,000 and 13,000
feet high about the latitude 35° 30', and falling gently where it
encloses the actual sources of the river. It is this plateau, or
uplift, which forms the dominant topographical feature of Northern
Afghanistan.
West of the Balkh Ab it is represented by the Firozkohi uplands, which
contain the head valleys of the Murghab, bordered on the north by the
Tirband-i-Turkistan from the foot of which stretch away towards the
Oxus the endless sand-waves of the Chol, and by the highlands of
Maimana and Sangcharak, and which trend northward to within a few
miles of Balkh. At Balkh its northern edge is well defined by the
Elburz, but between Balkh and Maimana it is more or less merged into
the great loess sand sea, and its limitations become indefinite. East
of the longitude of Balkh it is lost in a distance whither our
surveyors have not traced its outlines, but where without doubt it
fills a wide area north of the Hindu Kush, determining the nature of
the Badakshan River sources and shaping itself into a vast upland
region of mountain and deep sunk gully, and generally preserving the
same characteristics throughout, till it overlooks the valley of the
Oxus. That part of it which embraces the affluents of the Balkh Ab and
the Kunduz is described as intensely wild and dreary, traversed by
irregular folds and ridges which rise in more or less rounded slopes
to great altitudes, hiding amongst them deep-seated valleys and
gulches, wherein is to be found all that there is of cultivation and
beauty. From above it presents the aspect of a huge drab-coloured,
hill-encumbered desert where man's habitation is not, and Nature has
sunk her brightest efforts out of sight. These efforts are to be found
in the valleys, which are excavated by ages of erosion, steep sided,
with precipitous cliffs overhanging, and a narrow green ribbon of
fertility winding through the flat floor of them.
Across those dreary uplands, or else wandering blindfold along the
bottom of the river troughs, run the roads and tracks of the country;
some of them being the roads of centuries of busy traffic. A little
apart from the obvious route supplied by the lower course of the Balkh
Ab, and more important as leading more directly to the crest of the
main divide, is the road from Mazar to the Band-i-Amir district which
is practically the best road to Kabul. This strikes on to the plateau
and crosses several minor passes over spurs dividing the heads of
certain eastern affluents of the Balkh Ab before it drops into the
trough of the Darra Yusuf. Following the course of this river, and
skirting the towns of Kala Sarkari and Sadmurda, it strikes off from
its head over a pass called Dandan Shikan (the "tooth-breaker") into
the Kamard valley which runs eastwards into the big river of
Badakshan--the Kunduz. From Kamard over three passes into the
Saigan--another valley draining deeply eastwards into the Kunduz. From
this again, two parallel routes and passes southward connect Saigan
with the Bamian depression. Here the river of Bamian also runs east,
parallel to Saigan and Kamard (the three forming three parallel
depressions in the general plateau land), but meeting an affluent
draining from the east, the two join and curve northward into the
Kunduz.
This new affluent from the east is important, for it leads over the
easy Shibar Pass into the head of the Ghorband valley and to Charikar.
Finally, there is the well-travelled route from Bamian, leading
southward over the Hajigak Pass into the Helmund valley at
Gardandiwal, where it crosses the river and then proceeds _via_ the
Unai Pass and Maidan to Kabul. Such is the general system of the Balkh
communications with Kabul.
From Tashkurghan, east of Mazar, there are other routes equally
important. There is a direct road southward, which starts through an
extraordinary defile, where perpendicular walls of slippery rock
enclose a narrow cleft which hardly admits the passing of a loaded
mule to Ghaznigak and Haibak. From Haibak you may follow up the
Tashkurgan River to its head and then drop over the Kara Pass into
Kamard at Bajgah, and so to Bamian again; or you may avoid Bamian
altogether and striking off south-east from Haibak over the plateau,
slip down into the Kunduz drainage at Baghlan, and then follow it to
its junction with the Andarab at Dosh. This position at Dosh gives
practical command of all the passes over the Hindu Kush into the Kabul
basin, for the Andarab drains along the northern foot of the Hindu
Kush, and commands the back doors of all passes between the Chapdara
(or Chahardar) and the Khawak.
The most trodden route to-day is that which is the most direct between
Kabul and Mazar, _i.e._ the route _via_ Bamian and the Darra Yusuf.
This is the route taken by the late Amir when he met his cousin Ishak
Khan in the field of Afghan Turkistan and defeated him. It is not the
route taken by the Afghan Boundary Commission in returning from the
same field in 1885. They returned by Haibak and Dosh and deploying
along the northern foot of the Hindu Kush, crossed by nearly every
available pass either into the Ghorband valley or that of the
Panjshir.
It would almost appear from mediæval geographical record that there
was no way between Herat and Kabul that did not lead to the Bamian
valley. This is very far from accurately representing the actual
position, for Bamian lies obviously to the north of the direct line of
communication. Bamian was undoubtedly a place of great significance,
probably more important as a Buddhist centre than Kabul, more valuable
as a centre trade-market subsequently than the Indian city, as Kabul
was called. But its significance has disappeared, and it is now far
more important for us to know how to reach Kabul directly from the
west than how to pass through Bamian. The route to Bamian and Kabul
from Herat diverges at the small deserted fort of Sofarak, and follows
the Lal and the Kerman valleys at the head of the Hari Rud. Crossing
the Ak Zarat Pass southward there is little difficulty in traversing
the Besud route to the Helmund, from whence the road to Kabul over the
Unai Pass is open. The Bakkak Pass northward is the only real
difficulty between Herat and Bamian; much worse, indeed, than anything
on the route between Herat and Kabul direct; so that we have
determined the existence of a fairly easy route by the Hari Rud from
Herat to Kabul, and another route, with but one severe pass, between
Herat and Bamian. We must, however, remember that we are dealing with
Alpine altitudes. Overlooking the Yakulang head of the Balkh River are
magnificent peaks of 13,000 and 14,000 feet, and the passes are but a
few thousand feet lower. The valley of the Bamian, deep sunk in the
great plateau level, is between 8000 and 9000 feet above sea-level,
and the passes leading out of it are over 10,000 feet. To the south is
the magnificent snow-capped array of the Koh-i-Baba (or probably
Babar, from the name of the ancient people who occupied Bamian), the
culminating group of the central water-parting of Afghanistan running
to 16,000 and 17,000 feet. It is altitude, nothing but sheer altitude,
which is the effectual barrier to approach through the mountains which
divide the Oxus and Kabul basins. Rocky and "tooth-breaking" as may be
the passes of these northern hills they are all practicable at certain
times and seasons, but for months they are closed by the depth of
winter snows and the fierce terror of the Asiatic blizzard. The deep
valleys traversing the storm-ridden plateau are often beautiful
exceedingly, and form a strange contrast to the dull grey expanse of
rocky ridge and treeless plain of the weird plateau land; but in order
to reach them, or to pass from one to the other, high altitudes and
rugged pathways must always be negotiated.
In the days before the Mahomedan conquest, the pilgrim days of devout
Chinese searchers after truth, the footsteps of the Buddhist devotees
can be very plainly traced. Balkh was a specially sacred centre; and
the magnificence of the Bamian relics are also celebrated. We should
not have known precisely the route followed by the pilgrims had they
not left their traces half-way between Balkh and Bamian at Haibak.
Here in the heart of this stony and rugged wilderness is an open
cultivated plain, green with summer crops and streaked with the dark
lines of orchard foliage. Little white houses peep out from amongst
the greenery, and there is a kind of Swiss summer holiday air
encompassing this mountain oasis which must have enchanted the
votaries of Buddha in their time. The Buddhist architects of old were
unsurpassed, even by the Roman Catholic Monks of later ages in the
selection of sites for their monasteries and temples. The sweet
seductions which Nature has to offer in her mountain retreats were as
a thanksgiving to the pilgrim, weary footed and sore with the terrible
experiences of travel which was far rougher than anything which even
the most devoted Hajji can place to the credit of his account with the
recording angel of the present day, and they were appreciated
accordingly. Haibak, although not quite on the straight line to
Bamian, was not to be overlooked as a resting-place, and here one of
the quaintest of all these northern religious relics was literally
unearthed by Captain Talbot[8] during the progress of the Russo-Afghan
surveys. A small circular stupa was discovered cut out of solid rock
below the ground level. It was surrounded by a ditch, and crowned by a
small square-built chamber which was also cut out of the rock _in
situ_. There was nothing to indicate the origin or meaning of a stupa
in such a position, and time was wanting for anything more than a
superficial examination; but here we had the evidence of Buddhist
occupation and Buddhist worship forming a distinct link between Balkh
and Bamian, and marking one resting-place for the weary pilgrim. As
for caves, the country round Haibak appears to be studded with them.
So long must this strange region of ditch-like valleys, carved out of
the wrinkled central highlands of Afghanistan, have existed as the
focus of devout pilgrimage, if not of commercial activity, under the
Bamian kings, that the absence of any record descriptive of the routes
across it is rather surprising. Above the surface of the plateau the
long grey folds of the hills follow each other in monotonous
succession, with little relief from vegetation and unmarked by forest
growth. It is generally a scene of weary, stony desolation through
which narrow, white worn tracks thread their way. In the valleys it is
different. Cut squarely out of the plateau these intersecting valleys,
cliff bound on either side with reddish walls such as border the
valley of Bamian, offer fair opportunity for colonization. Where the
valleys open out there is space enough for cultivation, which in early
summer makes pretty contrast with the ruddy hills that hedge it. Where
it spreads out from the mouth of the gorges nourished by hundreds of
small channels which carry the water far afield, it is in most
charming contrast to the gaunt ruggedness of the hills from whence it
emerges. Such is the general outlook from the Firozkohi plateau,
looking northward into the Oxus plains when the yellow dust haze,
driven southward by the north-western winds, lifts sufficiently from
athwart the plains to render it possible to see towards Maimana or
into the valley of Astarab.
The valley of Bamian stands at a level of about 8500 feet; the passes
out of it northward to Balkh or southward to Kabul rise to 11,000 and
12,000 feet. It is the mystery of its unrecorded history and the local
evidences of the departed glory of Buddhism, which render Bamian the
most interesting valley in Afghanistan. Massive ruins still look down
from the bordering cliffs, and for six or seven miles these cliffs are
pierced by an infinity of cave dwellings. Little is left of the
ancient city but its acropolis (known as Ghulghula), which crowns an
isolated rock in the middle of the valley. Enormous figures (170 and
120 feet high) are carved out of the conglomerate rock on the sides of
the Bamian gorge. Once coated with cement, and possibly coloured, or
gilt, these images must have appealed strongly to the imagination of
the weary pilgrim who prostrated himself at their feet. "Their golden
lines sparkle on every side," says Huen Tsang, who saw them in the
year A.D. 630, when he counted ten convents and 1000 monks of the
"Little Vehicle" in the valley of Bamian.
Twelve hundred and fifty years later the great idols were measured by
theodolite and tape, and duly catalogued as curiosities of the world's
museum. We know very little of the later history of Bamian. The city
was swept off the face of the valley by Chengiz Khan; and Nadir Shah,
in later times, left the marks of his artillery on the face of cliffs
and images. Moslem destroyers and iconoclasts have worked their wicked
will on these ancient monuments, but they witness to the strength and
tenacity of a faith that still survives to sway a third of the human
race.
Chahilburj and Shahr-i-Babar (31 miles above Chahilburj at the
junction of the Sarikoh stream with the Band-i-Amir) with the ruined
fortresses of Gawargar and Zohak, wonderful for the multiplicity of
its lines of defence, all attest to the former position of Bamian in
Afghan history and explain its prominence in mediæval annals. And yet
there is not much said about the road thither from Balkh, or onward to
the "Indian city" of Kabul.
Idrisi just mentions the road connecting Balkh with Bamian, which he
describes as follows: "From Balkh to Meder (a small town in a plain
not far from mountains) three days' journey. From Meder to Kah
(well-populated town with bazaar and mosque) one day's journey. From
Kah to Bamian three days." Bamian he describes as of about the same
extent as Balkh, built on the summit of a mountain called Bamian, from
which issue several rivers which join the Andarab, possessing a
palace, a grand mosque, and a vast "faubourg"; and he enumerates
Kabul, Ghazni, and Karwan (which we find elsewhere to be near
Charikar) amongst others as dependencies of Bamian.
It is not easy to identify Meder and Kah. The total distance from
Balkh to Bamian is at least 200 miles by the most direct route _via_
the Darra Yusuf. Forty miles a day through such a country must be
regarded as a fine performance, even for Arab travellers who would
think little of 50 or 60 miles over the flats of Turkistan. However,
we must take the record as we find it, and assume that the camels of
those days (for the Arabs never rode horses on their journeys) were
better adapted for work in the hills than they are at present.
The inference, however, is strong that not very much was really known
about this mountain region south of the Balkh plain. To the pilgrim it
offered no terrors; but to the merchant, with his heavily laden
caravan, it is difficult to conceive that 800 or 900 years ago it
could have been much easier to negotiate than it is to the Bokhara
merchants of to-day, who take a much longer route between the Oxus and
Kabul than that which carries them past Bamian.
The province of Badakshan to the east (the ancient Baktria) is still
but indifferently explored. It is true that certain native explorers
of the Indian Survey have made tracks through the country, passing
from the Pamir region to the Oxus plains; but no English traveller has
recently done more than touch the fringe of that section of the Hindu
Kush system which includes Kafiristan and its extension northwards,
encircled by the great bend of the Oxus River. Kafiristan has ever
been an unexplored region--a mountain wilderness into which no call of
Buddhism ever lured the pilgrim, no Moslem conqueror (excepting
perhaps Timur) ever set his foot, until the late Amir Abdurrahmon
essayed to reduce that region and make it part of civilized
Afghanistan. Even he was content to leave it alone after a year or two
of vain hammering at its southern gates. Kafiristan formed part of the
mediæval province, or kingdom, of Bolor; but it is always written of
as the home of an uncouth and savage race of people, with whom it was
difficult to establish intercourse. Kafiristan is, however, in these
modern days very much curtailed as the home of the Kafir. Undoubtedly
many of the border tribes fringing the country (Dehgans, Nimchas,
etc.), who are now to be numbered amongst the most fanatical of Moslem
clans, are comparatively new recruits to the faith, and therefore
handle the new broom with traditional ardour; but they were not so
long ago members of the great mixed community of Kafirs who, driven
from many directions into the most inaccessible fastnesses of the
hills by the advance of stronger races north and south, have occupied
remote valleys, preserving their own dialects, mixing up in strange
confusion Brahman, Zoroastian, and Buddhist tenets with classical
mythology, each valley with apparently a law and a language of its
own, until it is impossible to unravel the threads of their
complicated relationship. Here we should expect to find (and we do
find) the last relics of the Greek occupation of Baktria, and here are
certainly remnants of a yet more ancient Persian stock, with all the
flotsam and jetsam of High Asia intermingled. They are, from the point
of view of the Kabul Court, all lumped together as Kafirs under two
denominations, Siahposh and Lalposh; and not till scientific
investigation, such as has not yet reached Afghanistan, can touch them
shall we know more than we do now. No commercial road ever ran through
the heart of Kafiristan, but there were two routes touching its
eastern and western limits, viz. that on the east passing by Jirm, and
that on the west by Anjuman, both joining the Kokcha River, which are
vaguely referred to by our Arab authorities. That by Jirm is certainly
impracticable for any but travellers on foot.
Badakshan (_i.e._ the province) was apparently full of well-populated
and flourishing towns 1000 years ago. The names of many of them are
given by Idrisi, but it is not possible to identify more than a few.
The ancient Khulm (50 miles east of Balkh) was included in Badakshan.
In Idrisi's day it was a place "of which the productions and
resources were very abundant: there is running water, cultivated
fields, and all sorts of vegetable productions." From thence to
Semenjan "a pretty town, in every way comparable to Khulm, commercial,
populated, and encircled with mud walls," two days' journey. Then we
have "from Balkh to Warwalin" (a town agreeable and commercial with
others dependent on it), two days. From Warwalin to Talekan, two days.
Talekan is described as only one-fourth the size of Balkh, on the
banks of a big river in a plain where there are vineyards. And then,
strangely enough, we find "from Balkh to Khulm west of Warwalin is a
two-days' journey. From Semenjan to Talekan, two days."
This is a puzzle which requires some adjustment. From Balkh to Khulm
is about 50 miles and may well pass as two days' journey. But from
Balkh to Warwalin is also said to be a two-days' journey, and from
Warwalin to Talekan two days, whilst Khulm is two days _west_ of
Warwalin. The difficulty lies in the fact that all these places must
be on a line running almost due _east_ from Balkh. It was and is the
great high-road of Badakshan in the Oxus plains. Moreover, Talekan has
been fixed by native surveyors at a point about 150 miles east of
Balkh which fully corresponds in its physical features to the
description given of that place above. If, however, we assume 150
miles to represent six days' journey instead of four, the difficulty
vanishes. We then have Balkh to Khulm, two days; Khulm to Warwalin,
two days; and Warwalin to Talekan, two days. This would place Warwalin
somewhere about Kunduz, which is, indeed, a very probable position for
it.
Semenjan is important. Two days from Talekan; two days from Khulm;
five days from Andarab.
Andarab is fortunately a fixed position. The description given of it
by Idrisi places it at the junction of the Kaisan (or Kasan) stream
with the Andarab, both of which retain their ancient names. Andarab is
a very old and a very important position in all itineraries, from
Greek times till now, and it may be important again. But seeing that
Khulm is separated from Talekan by four days, it is difficult to
distinguish between Semenjan and Warwalin which is also two days from
each of those places. This illustrates the problems which beset the
unravelling of Arab itineraries. Seeing, however, that Talekan and
Warwalin have already been confused once, it is, I think, justifiable
to assume that the same mistake has occurred again. Such an assumption
would place Semenjan about where Haibak is, and where some central
town of importance must have always been, judging from its important
geographical position. Haibak is rather more than a hundred miles from
Andarab by the only practicable khafila route, which is a very fair
five-days' journey. This would indicate that the route followed by the
English Commission for the settlement of the Russo-Afghan frontier
from Balkh to Kabul was one of those recognized as trade routes in
the tenth and eleventh centuries. The location of one other town in
Badakshan is of interest, and that is a town called by Idrisi
"Badakshan," which gave its name to the province. The first assumption
to make is that the modern capital Faizabad is on or near the site of
the ancient one. Let us see how it fits Idrisi's itinerary. The
information is most meagre. From Talekan to Badakshan, seven days.
From Andarab to the same town (going east), four days. Badakshan is
described as a town "not very large but possessing many dependencies
and a most fertile soil. The vine and other trees grow freely, and the
country is watered by running streams. The town is defended by strong
walls, and it possesses markets, caravanserais, and baths. It is a
commercial centre. It is built on the west bank of the Khariab, the
largest river of those which flow to the Oxus." It is elsewhere stated
that the Khariab is another name for the Oxus or Jihun. It is added
that horses are bred there and mules; and rubies and lapis lazuli
found in the neighbourhood and distributed through the world. Musk
from Wakhan is brought to Badakshan. Also Badakshan adjoins Canouj, a
dependency of India. The two provinces which are found immediately
beyond the Oxus (under one government) are Djil and Waksh, which lie
between the Khariab (? Oxus) and Wakshab rivers, of which the first
bathes the eastern part of Djil and the other the country of Waksh.
The Waksh joins the Oxus from the north near the junction of the
latter with the Kunduz. Then follow the names of places dependent on
Waksh, of which Helawerd and Menk seem to be the chief.
Now Faizabad is about 70 miles from Talekan, and about 160 at least
from Andarab. From Andarab the route strikes east at first, but after
crossing the Nawak Pass, over a spur of the Hindu Kush (which is
itself crossed near this point by the Khawak), it turns and passes
down the valley of Anjuman to Jirm and Faizabad. Jirm is on the left
bank of the Kokcha or Khariab--Faizabad being on the right,--and its
altitude (4800 feet) would certainly admit of vine-growing and may be
suitable for horse-breeding; but it must be admitted that in both
these particulars Faizabad has the advantage, although Jirm is the
centre of the mining industry in lapis lazuli, if not in rubies. Jirm
is about 130 miles from Andarab, and 80 (with a well-marked road
between) to Talekan. To fit Idrisi's itinerary we should have to
select a spot in the Anjuman valley some sixty miles south of Jirm.
This would involve an impossible altitude for either wine or horses
(in that latitude), so we are forced to conclude that the itinerary is
wrong. If it were exactly reversed and made seven days from Andarab
and four from Talekan, Jirm would represent the site of the ancient
capital exactly. Some such adjustment as this is necessary in order to
meet the requirements, and Idrisi's indications of the climate. On
the whole, I am inclined to believe that Jirm represents the ancient
capital. However that may be, it is important to note that the Anjuman
route from the pass at the head of the Panjshir valley was a
recognized route in the Middle Ages, and emphasizes the importance of
the Andarab position in Afghanistan. We have seen that from the very
earliest times, prior to the Greek invasion of India, this was
probably the region of western settlements in Baktria. It is about
here that we find the greatest number of indications (if place-names
are to be trusted) of Greek colonization. It is one of the districts
which are to be recognized as distinctly the theatres of Alexander's
military movements during his famous expedition. It commands four, if
not five, of the most important passes across the Hindu Kush. The
surveyor who carried his traverse up to the head of the Andarab and
over the Khawak Pass into the Panjshir found a depression in the Hindu
Kush range which admitted of two crossings (the Til and Khawak) at an
elevation of about 11,650 feet, neither of which presented any great
physical difficulty apart from that of altitude, both leading by
comparatively easy grades into the upper Panjshir valley.
It is reported that since the Russo-Afghan Commission surveyors passed
that way, the late Amir has constructed a passable road for commercial
purposes, which can be kept open by the employment of coolie labour in
removing the snow, and that khafilas pass freely between Kabul and
Badakshan all the year round. In the tenth century there is ample
evidence that it was a well-trodden route, for we find it stated that
from Andarab to Hariana (travelling southward) is three days' journey.
"Hariana is a small town built at the foot of a mountain and on the
banks of a river, which, taking its source near Panjshir (Banjohir)
traverses that town without being utilized for irrigation until,
reaching Karwan, it enters into the territory of India and joins its
waters to the Nahrwara (Kabul) River. The inhabitants of Hariana
possess neither trees nor orchards. They only cultivate vegetables,
but they live by mining. It is impossible to see anything more perfect
than the metal which is extracted from the mines of Panjshir, a small
town built on a hill at one day's distance from Hariana and of which
the inhabitants are remarkable for violence and wickedness
(mechanceté) of their character. The river, which issues from
Panjshir, runs to Hariana as we have said." ... "From there (?
Hariana) to Karwan, southward, two days' journey." "The town of Karwan
is small but pretty, its environs are agreeable, bazaars frequent,
inhabitants well-off. The houses are built of mud and bricks. Situated
on the banks of a river which comes from Panjshir, this town is one of
the principal markets of India."
From this account it is clear that the village of Panjshir must have
been somewhere near the modern Khawak, and Hariana about 20 miles
lower down the stream. But the site is not identified. Karwan was
obviously near the site of the modern Charikar, and might possibly be
Parwan, a very ancient site. It is worthy of note that in the tenth
century all the Kabul province was "India." Of all the passes
traversing the Hindu Kush we have mention only of this, the Khawak,
and (indirectly) of the group which connect Kabul with Bamian; and it
may be doubted whether in the Middle Ages any use was made of the
Shibar, Chapdara, or others that lie between the Kaoshan and Irak for
commercial purposes.
There is, however, strong inference that the Greeks made use of the
Kaoshan, or Parwan, which is also commanded from Andarab. The
excellent military road constructed by the late Amir from Charikar, up
the Ghorband valley and over the Chapdara Pass, is a modern
development.
Here, however, we must take leave of the routes to India, which are
sufficiently dealt with elsewhere, and returning to Badakshan see if
we can unravel some of the mediæval geography of the region which
stretches eastward to the Oxus affluents and the Pamirs. We know that
between Khotan and Balkh there was a very well-trodden pilgrim route
in the earlier days of our era (from the first century to the tenth),
when both these places were full of the high-priests of Buddhism. Was
it also a commercial route? The shortest way to determine its
position is to examine the map and see which way it must have run at a
time when (if we are to believe Mr. Ellsworthy Huntington's theories
of periodic fluctuations of climate in High Asia) all that vastly
elevated region was colder, less desiccated, and possibly more fertile
than now, whilst its glaciers and lakes were larger and more
extensive.
Before turning eastward into the highlands and plateau of Asia it is
interesting to note that north of the Oxus the districts of Jil (which
was the region of mountains) and Waksh were both well known, and
boasted many important commercial centres. The two districts (under
one government) lay between the Wakshab which joins the Oxus from the
north to the north-east of Khulm, and the Khariab, which is clearly
another river than the Khariab (now the Kokcha) of Badakshan, and
which is probably the Oxus itself (see preceding note). These
trans-Oxus regions take us afield into the Khanates of Central Asia
beyond Afghanistan, and we can only note in passing that 1000 years
ago Termez was the most important town on the Oxus, commanding as it
did the main river crossing from Bokhara to Khulm and Balkh; Kabadian
also being very ancient. Termez may yet again become significant in
history.
References to the Pamir region are very scanty, and indicate that not
much was known about them. The most direct road from Khotan in Chinese
Turkistan to Balkh, a well-worn pilgrim route of the early centuries
of our era, is that which first strikes north-west to Yarkand, and
then passing by the stone fort of Tashkurghan (one of the ancient
landmarks of Central Asian travel) follows the Tashkurghan River to
its head, passes over the Wakhjir Pass from the Tagdumbash Pamir into
the valley of the Wakhab (or Panja) River and follows that river to
Zebak in Badakshan. So far it is a long, difficult, and toilsome route
rising to an altitude of 15,000 to 16,000 feet, but after passing
Zebak to Faizabad and so on through Badakshan to Balkh, it is a
delightful road, full of picturesque beauty and incident. At certain
seasons of the year no part of it would appear formidable to such
earnest and determined devotees as the Chinese Buddhist pilgrims. From
Huen Tsang's account, however, it would seem that a still more
northerly route was usually preferred, one which involved crossing the
Oxus at Termez or Kilif. It is a curious feature in connection with
Buddhist records of travel (even the Arab records) that no account
whatever seems to be taken of abstract altitude, _i.e._ the altitude
of the plains. So long as the mountains towered above the pilgrims'
heads they were content to assume that they were traversing lowlands.
Never does it seem to have occurred to them that on the flat plains
they might be at a higher elevation than on the summits of the Chinese
or Arabian hills. The explanation undoubtedly lies in the fact that
they had no means of determining elevation. Hypsometers and aneroids
were not for them. The gradual ascents leading to the Pamir valleys
did not impress them, and so long as they ascended one side of a range
to descend on the other, the fact that the descent did not balance the
ascent was more or less unobserved. Wandering over the varied face of
the earth they were content to accept it as God made it, and ask no
questions. Recent investigations would lead us to suppose that in the
palmy days of Buddhist occupation of Chinese Turkistan, when Lop Nor
spread out its wide lake expanse to reflect a vista of towns and
villages on its banks, refreshing the earth by a thousand rivulets not
then impregnated with noxious salts; when high-roads traversed that
which is now but a moving procession of sand-waves following each
other in silent order at the bidding of the eternal wind; when men
made their arrangements for posting from point to point, and forgot to
pay their bills made out in the Karosthi language, the climate was
very different from what it is now.
It was colder, moister, and the zones of cultivation far more
extensive, but it may also be that these regions were not so highly
elevated; indeed, there is good reason for believing that the eternal
processes of expansion and contraction of the earth's crust, never
altogether quiescent, is more marked in Central Asia than elsewhere,
and that the gradual elevation, which is undoubtedly in operation now,
may have also affected the levels of river-beds and intervening
divides, and thrown out of gear much of the original natural
possibilities for irrigation. However that may be, it is fairly
certain that no great amount of trade ever crossed the Pamirs. Marco
Polo crossed them, passing by Tashkurghan and making his way eastwards
to Cathay, and has very little to say about them except in admiration
of the magnificent pasturage which is just as abundant and as
nutritious now as it was in his time. Idrisi's information beyond the
regions of the Central Asian Khanates and the Oxus was very vague. He
says that on the borders of Waksh and of Jil are Wakhan and Sacnia,
dependencies of the country of the Turks. From Wakhan to Tibet is
eighteen journeys. "Wakhan possesses silver mines, and gold is taken
from the rivers. Musk and slaves are also taken from this country.
Sacnia town, which belongs to the Khizilji Turks, is five days from
Wakhan, and its territory adjoins China." Wakhan probably included the
province of the same name that now forms the extreme north-eastern
extension of Afghanistan, but the Tibet, which was eighteen days'
journey distant, in nowise corresponds with the modern Tibet. Assuming
that it was "Little Tibet" (or Ladakh), which might perhaps correspond
in the matter of distance, we should still have some difficulty in
reconciling Idrisi's description of the "Ville de Tibet" with any
place in Ladakh. He says "the town of Tibet is large, and the country
of which it is the capital carries the name." This country belongs to
the "Turks Tibetians." Its inhabitants entertain relations with
Ferghana, Botm,[9] and with the subjects of the Wakhan; they travel
over most of these countries, and they take from them their iron,
silver, precious stones, leopard skins, and Tibetan musk. This town is
built on a hill, at the foot of which runs a river which discharges
into the lake Berwan, situated towards the east. It is surrounded with
walls, and serves as the residence of a prince, who has many troops
and much cavalry, who wear coats of mail and are armed _de pied en
cap_. They make many things there, and export robes and stuff of which
the tissue is thick, rough, and durable. These robes cost much, and
one gets slaves and musk destined for Ferghana and India. There does
not exist in the world creatures endowed with more beautiful
complexions, with more charming figures, more perfect features, and
more agreeable shape than these Turk slaves. They are disrobed and
sold to merchants, and it is this class of girl who fetches 300
dinars. The country of Bagnarghar lies between Tibet and China,
bounded on the north by the country of the Kirkhirs (Kiziljis in
another MS.), possibly Kirghiz.
The course of the river on which the town is built, no less than the
name of the lake into which that river falls and the description of
the Turk slave girls (as of the cavalry), is quite inapplicable to
anything to be found in modern Tibet. I have little doubt that the
Tibet of Idrisi was a town on the high-road to China, which followed
the Tarim River eastward to its bourne in Lake Burhan. Lake Burhan is
now a swamp distinct from Lob, but 1000 years ago it may have been a
part of the Lob system, and Bagnarghar a part of Mongolia. The
description of the slave girls would apply equally well to the Turkman
women or to the Kirghiz, but certainly not to the flat-featured,
squat-shaped Tibetan, although there are not wanting good looks
amongst them. Then follows, in Idrisi's account, a list of the
dependencies of Tibet and some travellers' tales about the musk-deer.
It is impossible to place the ancient town of Tibet accurately. There
are ruined sites in numbers on the Tarim banks, and amongst them a
place called Tippak, but it would be dangerous to assume a connection
between Tibet and Tippak. This is interesting (and the interest must
be the excuse for the digression from Afghanistan), because it
indicates that modern Chinese Turkistan was included in Tibet a
thousand years ago, and it further throws a certain amount of light on
the origin of the remarkable concentration of Buddhist centres in the
Takla Makan.
FOOTNOTES:
[5] Joubert's translation.
[6] Adraskand is mentioned as "a little place with cultivation,
gardens, and plenty of sweet water," and as one of the four towns
under the domination of Asfaran. This corresponds fairly well with the
modern town of Kila Adraskand of the same name. On the same southern
route from Herat, undoubtedly, was "Malin Herat, at one day's journey,
a town surrounded by gardens." The picturesque ruins of the bridge
called the Pul-i-Malun, across the Hari Rud, on the Kandahar road, is
evidence of the former existence of a town of Malun, of which no trace
remains to-day, but which must have corresponded very closely with
Rozabagh.
[7] Talikhan in modern maps.
[8] Now Colonel the Hon. M. G. Talbot, R.E.
[9] The name or term Bot is locally applied now to certain Himalayan
districts as well as to Tibet.