One word remains to be said upon the _personal_ interests concerned in

this great drama. The catastrophe in this respect was remarkable and

complete. Oubacha, with all his goodness and incapacity of suspecting,

had, since the mysterious affair on the banks of the Torgau, felt his

mind alienated from his cousin. He revolted from the man that would have

murdered him; and he had displayed his caution so visibly as to provoke

a reaction in the bearing of Zebek-Dorchi and a displeasure which all

his dissimulation could not hide. This had produced a feud, which, by

keeping them aloof, had probably saved the life of Oubacha; for the

friendship of Zebek-Dorchi was more fatal than his open enmity. After

the settlement on the Ily this feud continued to advance, until it came

under the notice of the emperor on occasion of a visit which all the

Tartar chieftains made to his majesty at his hunting-lodge in 1772. The

emperor informed himself accurately of all the particulars connected

with the transaction, of all the rights and claims put forward, and of

the way in which they would severally affect the interests of the

Kalmuck people. The consequence was, that he adopted the cause of

Oubacha, and repressed the pretensions of Zebek-Dorchi, who, on his

part, so deeply resented this discountenance to his ambitious projects,

that, in conjunction with other chiefs, he had the presumption even to

weave nets of treason against the emperor himself. Plots were laid, were

detected, were baffled; counterplots were constructed upon the same

basis, and with the benefit of the opportunities thus offered.

Finally Zebek-Dorchi was invited to the imperial lodge, together with

all his accomplices; and, under the skilful management of the Chinese

nobles in the emperor's establishment, the murderous artifices of these

Tartar chieftains were made to recoil upon themselves; and the whole of

them perished by assassination at a great imperial banquet; for the

Chinese morality is exactly of that kind which approves in everything

the _lex talionis_:--

"....lex nec justior ulla est (as _they_ think)

Quam necis artifices arte perire sua."

So perished Zebek-Dorchi, the author and originator of the great Tartar

_exodus_. Oubacha, meantime, and his people were gradually recovering

from the effects of their misery and repairing their losses. Peace and

prosperity, under the gentle rule of a fatherly lord paramount, redawned

upon the tribes; their household _lares_, after so harsh a translation

to distant climates, found again a happy reinstatement in what had, in

fact, been their primitive abodes; they found themselves settled in

quiet sylvan scenes, rich in all the luxuries of life, and endowed with

the perfect loveliness of Arcadian beauty. But from the hills of this

favored land, and even from the level grounds, as they approach its

western border, they still look out upon that fearful wilderness which

once beheld a nation in agony,--the utter extirpation of nearly half a

million from amongst its numbers, and for the remainder a storm of

misery so fierce that in the end (as happened also at Athens during the

Peloponnesian war from a different form of misery) very many lost their

memory; all records of their past life were wiped out as with a

sponge,--utterly erased and cancelled; and many others lost their

reason, some in a gentle form of pensive melancholy, some in a more

restless form of feverish delirium and nervous agitation, and others in

the fixed forms of tempestuous mania, raving frenzy, or moping idiocy.

Two great commemorative monuments arose in after years to mark the depth

and permanence of the awe, the sacred and reverential grief, with which

all persons looked back upon the dread calamities attached to the year

of the tiger,--all who had either personally shared in those calamities

and had themselves drunk from that cup of sorrow, or who had effectually

been made witnesses to their results and associated with their relief.

Two great monuments, we say; first of all, one in the religious

solemnity, enjoined by the Dalai lama, called in the Tartar language a

_Romanang_, that is, a national commemoration, with music the most rich

and solemn, of all the souls who departed to the rest of paradise from

the afflictions of the desert. This took place about six years after the

arrival in China. Secondly, another, more durable, and more commensurate

to the scale of the calamity and to the grandeur of this national

exodus, in the mighty columns of granite and brass erected by the

emperor, Kien Long, near the banks of the Ily. These columns stand upon

the very margin of the _steppes_, and they bear a short but emphatic

inscription to the following effect:--

By the will of God,

Here, upon the brink of these deserts,

Which from this point begin and stretch away,

Pathless, treeless, waterless,

For thousands of miles, and along the margins of many mighty

nations,

Rested from their labors and from great afflictions,

Under the shadow of the Chinese Wall,

And by the favor of KIEN LONG, God's Lieutenant upon Earth,

The ancient Children of the Wilderness,--the Torgote Tartars,--

Flying before the wrath of the Grecian czar;

Wandering sheep who had strayed away from the Celestial Empire

in the year 1616,

But are now mercifully gathered again, after infinite sorrow,

Into the fold of their forgiving shepherd.

Hallowed be the spot forever,

and

Hallowed be the day--September 8, 1771!

Amen.

* * * * *

Transcriber's note:

Obvious punctuation errors and printer's errors were corrected.

Inconsistent hyphenation and capitalization were retained.

Stories of Exile · 第 13 / 13 段