Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Text enclosed by + symbols is transliterated Greek (+parasangês+).
Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.
* * * * *
SKETCHES OF CENTRAL ASIA.
SKETCHES
OF
CENTRAL ASIA.
ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS
ON
MY TRAVELS, ADVENTURES,
AND ON THE
ETHNOLOGY OF CENTRAL ASIA.
BY
ARMINIUS VÁMBÉRY,
PROFESSOR OF ORIENTAL LANGUAGES IN THE
UNIVERSITY OF PESTH
PHILADELPHIA:
J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.
WM. H. ALLEN & CO., 13, WATERLOO PLACE,
PALL MALL, LONDON.
1868.
[_All rights reserved._]
Lewis and Son, Printers, Swan Buildings, Moorgate Street.
PREFACE.
In the reviews of my "Travels in "Central Asia," which have
issued from the European and American press, I have generally
been reproached with scantiness of details and scrappiness of
treatment;--in a word, with having said much less than I could have
said about my journey from the Bosphorus to Samarkand,--so rich in
varied adventures and experiences.
Now, I will not deny that such a charge has not been quite unfairly
levelled against me.
While I was writing my memoirs, during the first three months of
my stay in London, after my year-long wanderings in Asia, I had
very great trouble in accustoming myself to the idea of being
firmly settled down. I always kept fancying myself bound on the
morrow to pack up and extend my travels with the caravan: hence my
irresolution and hasty procedure. Moreover, I was quite a stranger
in the domain of travelling, and deemed it my duty now to keep
something back for mere decency; anon to leave out something else,
as of inferior interest. Hence many an episode was left untouched,
many a picture remained but a feeble sketch.
To make up for this defect--if sparingness in words be really a
defect--I have written the following pages. They contain only
supplementary papers, partly about my own adventures, partly on the
manners and rare characteristics of the Central Asiatic peoples,
linked together in no particular connection. It would naturally have
been better to offer these pages in the place of the former volume;
and yet the slightest notice of a country so little known to us as
Turkestan, which political questions will soon bring into the front
of passing questions, will always have its uses; and "meglio tardi
che mai."
A. V.
PESTH,
_2nd December, 1867_.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
Dervishes and Hadjis 1
CHAPTER II.
Recollections of my Dervish Life 22
CHAPTER III.
Amongst the Turkomans 44
CHAPTER IV.
The Caravan in the Desert 62
CHAPTER V.
The Tent and its Inhabitants 75
CHAPTER VI.
The Court of Khiva 87
CHAPTER VII.
Joy and Sorrow 98
CHAPTER VIII.
House, Food, and Dress 114
CHAPTER IX.
From Khiva to Kungrat and back 127
CHAPTER X.
My Tartar 150
CHAPTER XI.
The Round of Life in Bokhara 166
CHAPTER XII.
Bokhara, the Head Quarters of Mohamedanism 186
CHAPTER XIII.
The Slave Trade and Slave Life in Central Asia 205
CHAPTER XIV.
Productive Power of the Three Oasis-Countries of Turkestan 231
CHAPTER XV.
On the Ancient History of Bokhara 257
CHAPTER XVI.
Ethnographical Sketch of the Turanian and Iranian Races
of Central Asia 282
CHAPTER XVII.
Iranians 313
CHAPTER XVIII.
Literature in Central Asia 339
CHAPTER XIX.
Rivalry between Russia and England in Central Asia 379
SKETCHES OF CENTRAL ASIA.
CHAPTER I.
DERVISHES AND HADJIS.
The dervish is the veritable personification of Eastern life.
Idleness, fanaticism, and slovenliness, are the features which in
him are regarded as virtues, and which everywhere are represented
by him as such. Idleness is excused by allusion to human impotence;
fanaticism explained as enthusiasm in religion; and slovenliness
justified by the uselessness of poor mortals in struggling against
fate. If the superiority of European civilization over that of the
East was not so clearly established, I should almost be tempted to
envy a dervish, who, clad in tatters and conversing in a corner
of some ruined building, shows, by the twinkling in his eye, the
happiness he enjoys. What a serenity is depicted in that face;
what a placidity in all his actions; what a complete contrast
there is between this picture and that presented by our European
civilization! In my disguise as a dervish it was chiefly this
unnatural composure which made me nervous, and in the imitation of
which I made, of course, the greatest mistakes. I shall never forget
one day at Herat, when, after reflecting on the happiness of the
early termination of the painful mask I had been wearing for so many
months, I suddenly jumped up from my seat, and in a somewhat excited
state began to pace up and down the old ruin which gave me shelter.
A few minutes afterwards I perceived that a crowd of passers by
had collected at the door, and that I was the object of general
astonishment. Seeing my mistake, I blushingly resumed my seat. Soon
afterwards several people came up to ask me what was the matter with
me, whether I was well, &c. The good people thought I was deranged;
for, to oriental notions, a man must be out of his senses if,
without necessity or a special object in view, he suddenly leaves
his seat to pace up and down a room.
As the dervish represents the general character, so he does the
different peoples of the East. It is true, Mahomedanism enforces
the dogma: "El Islam milleti wahidun"--all Islamites are _one_
nation; but the origin and home of the different sects are
easily recognised. Bektashi, Mewlewi, and Rufai, are principally
natives of Turkey; because Bektash, the enthusiastic founder of
the Janissaries, Moola Djelaleddin Rumi, the great poet of the
Mesnevi, lived, and are buried in Turkey; the Kadrie and Djelali
are most frequently met with in Arabia; the Oveisy, and Nurbakhshi
Nimetullah in Persia; the Khilali and Zahibi in India; and the
Nakishbendi and Sofi Islam in Central Asia.[1] The members of the
different fraternities are bound together by very close ties;
apprentices (Murid) and assistants (Khalfa) have to yield implicit
obedience to the chief (Pir), who has an unlimited power over
the life and property of his brethren. But these fraternities do
not in the least trouble themselves about secret political or
social objects, as is sometimes asserted in Europe by enthusiastic
travellers, who have even discovered Freemasons amongst the Bedouin
tribes of the Great Desert. The dervishes are the monks of Islamism;
and the spirit which created and sustains them is that of religious
fanaticism, and they differ from each other only by the manner in
which they demonstrate their enthusiasm. For instance; whilst one of
these religious orders commands constant pilgrimages to the tombs of
saints, the other lays down stringent rules for reflection on divine
infinity and the insignificance of our existence. A third compels
his votaries to occupy themselves day and night with repeating the
name of of God (Zikr) and hymns (Telkin); and it cannot surprise us
to learn that the greater number of a company which has continually
been calling out with all its might: "Ja hu! Ja hakk! La illahi
illa hu! are seized with _delirium tremens_. The orthodox call this
condition Medjzub; _i.e._, carried away by divine love, or to be
in ecstacy. A person to whom such a fortunate event happens, for
as such it is regarded, is envied by everybody; and as long as it
lasts, the sick and the maimed, and barren women, try to get in his
immediate presence, taking hold of his dress,--as touching it is
supposed to have healing powers.
[1] Sofi Islam is a sect which originated about thirty years ago.
Its founder, a Tadjik from Belkh, was desirous of opposing the
ever-increasing influence of the Nakishbendi. In this fraternity
prevails the principle of communism and blood relationship. The Sofi
Islamites wear a cap trimmed with fur, and are most frequently met
with this side of the Oxus, as far as Herat, and also amongst the
Turkomans.
What the dervishes are able to do during the ecstacy caused by
_Zikr_, I had once an opportunity of witnessing in Samarkand. In
Dehbid, close to the tomb of the Makhdun Aazam, one of these howling
companies had grouped themselves around the Pir (chief) of that
district. At first they contented themselves with repeating the
formula in a natural tone of voice, and almost in measured time.
The chief was lost in the deepest thought; all eyes and ears were
fixed upon him; and every motion of his hand, and every breath he
drew, was audible, and encouraged his followers to utter wilder and
louder ejaculations. At last he seemed to awake from his sleep-like
reflections, and as soon as he raised his head all the dervishes
jumped up from their seats like possessed beings. The circle was
broken, and the different members began to dance in undulating
motions; but hardly did the chief stand upon his feet than the
enthusiastic dancers became so terribly excited that I, who had
to imitate all their wild antics, became almost frightened. They
were flying about, constantly dancing, right and left, hither and
thither, some leaving the soft meadow and getting upon the rough
stones, constantly dancing, till the blood began to run freely from
their feet. Still they kept on their mad excitement, till most of
them fell fainting to the ground.
In a country like the East, where such social relations exist, and
where we meet with such amusing extremes, the dervish or beggar,
though placed at the very bottom of the social scale, often enjoys
as much consideration as the prince who reigns over millions and
disposes of immense treasures. Man, an unresisting plaything in the
powerful hand of Fate, can, if Destiny wills it, be transported
from one extreme to the other, of which history furnishes us with
numerous instances; and as in fiction we see with pleasure the
two antipodes--the king, Shah-ü Keda, and the beggar, brought
into close propinquity--even so we often find a ragged and dirty
dervish, covered with vermin, sitting on the same carpet with a
magnificently-dressed prince, and engaged with him in familiar
conversation, nay, often drinking with him out of the same cup.
European travellers view such a _tête-à-tête_ with surprise, and
even sometimes with a feeling of amusement; but in the East it is
considered as quite natural. For, says the oriental moralist, the
king must see in the glaring contrast between him and his neighbour
the vanity of earthly splendour, and banish from his mind all
feeling of pride; while the dervish discovers beneath the pompous
dress of the prince a mere mortal man, and mindful of the vanity of
sublunary things, laughs at the farce of life.
Though perfectly conscious of their relative position, these two
extremes exhibit, when they meet, an admirable degree of toleration
and indulgence. The dervish, who, when received in private, behaves
with the freedom and unconstraint of an intimate friend, never
forgets on public occasions that he is the poorest of the poor. The
man of rank suffers from him what to any other person would appear
insupportable. At Kerki, the governor of the province had a dervish
in his palace, who, in conformity with a precept of his order, had
the agreeable office of crying aloud uninterruptedly, from sunset
till break of day: Ya hu! ya hakk! La illa hu![2] and that with the
voice of a Stentor. As soon as darkness prevailed, and the busy hum
of public life had become silent, the melancholy and monotonous
exclamations became more and more audible, not only in the palace
itself, but to a considerable extent around it. That his devotions
disturbed many in their sleep, may be easily imagined. Nevertheless,
the governor, notwithstanding the entreaties of his own family,
did not venture to make any objection to this proceeding, and the
dervish continued his vociferations every night as long as he
sojourned in Kerki. As I lodged in the vicinity of the palace, I
enjoyed my share of this nightly concert; and as the voice of the
enthusiastic bawler became towards the approach of dawn weaker and
weaker, I was enabled to calculate from it the distance of daybreak
without stepping out of the dark cell in which I lay.
[2] Yes, it is he! it is the righteous one! there is no God but he;
are the usual forms of prayer which occur in the Zikr.
We may say, however, that we nowadays very seldom meet with a
dervish in the strict sense of the word; that is, a man who,
renouncing from inward conviction earthly goods and worldly
comforts, is desirous only of obtaining experience of life and
devoting himself to the practice of religious duties: such a man,
in a word, as the poet Saadi is represented to have been. Those who
embrace this vocation are either unprincipled and lazy fellows,
or professed beggars, who, under the cloak of poverty, collect
treasures, and when they are sufficiently enriched often adopt some
lucrative trade. This is particularly the case in Persia. So long
as Fortune is favourable to them they lead a life of ostentatious
magnificence, and forget how transitory all is in this world. But
should he be overtaken by adversity, then he retires to some modest
corner, rails at the vain pursuits of men, and, inflated with pride,
cries out: Men dervish em; I am a dervish.
The dervishes of India, and particularly those of Cashmere, are
throughout the East pre-eminent among their Mahometan brethren for
cunning, secret arts, forms of exorcism, &c. These fellows impose
most impudently on the credulity of the people in Persia and Central
Asia, and even men of wit and understanding sometimes fall into
their snares; for, wherever such a Cashmere dervish appears, gifted
as he generally is with a noble figure, striking features, bright
eloquent eyes, and long dark flowing hair, he is sure of success.
The Mahometans of India and the adjoining eastern countries have
always been celebrated in the Islamite world for their supernatural
gifts. As soon as such a travelling saint arrives in a Mahometan
country, he is entreated to cure dangerous maladies, to exorcise
ghosts, or to point out where hidden treasures are buried; for,
although those arts are forbidden by the Koran, they appear
everywhere as the most zealous Mahometans. Count Gobineau, in his
work, "Trois Ans dans l'Asie," tells us of an excellent trick, which
an alchemist from Cashmere played a gold-seeking prince in Teheran.
A similar trick was played on the brother of the reigning Khan of
Khiva, who, wanting to have all his saddles and bridles converted
into gold, was cheated in a most ridiculous manner. But they are
sometimes so devoid of conscience as to rob the poorest man of his
last penny. In Teheran, a Hadji, lately arrived from Central Asia,
told me, with tears in his eyes, the following story. As, said he,
I had heard much in Meshed of the frequent robberies that occurred
on the road to Teheran, I and my companion were anxious to know
what would be the best way to conceal our little capital, which
was to defray our expenses to the holy grave of the Prophet. This
money was the savings of five hard years, and thou knowest how
difficult it is to travel without money in this land of heretics.
Next to us in the caravanserai at Meshed there lodged a pious Ishan
(sheikh) from Cashmere; to him we communicated our fears, and were
delighted when he offered, by means of a certain form of prayer,
to secure our money against all attacks of robbers. He invited us
to follow him to the mosque of Iman Riza: there he bade us perform
the usual ablutions. We then placed our money in his lap, and after
he had breathed on it several times he put it with his own hands
into our purses, wrapped them up in seven sheets of paper, and
then strictly enjoined us not to open them till, on our arrival at
Teheran, we had performed our devotions three times in the mosque.
It is now six weeks since we left Meshed; and imagine our fright,
when yesterday, after the third prayer, we opened our purses and
found in them, instead of our dear ducats, nothing but heavy reddish
sand. The poor fellows uttered bitter complaints and seemed almost
to have lost their wits. The cunning rogue from Cashmere had, while
pronouncing the blessing, changed the money without being perceived
by the simple Tartars, who continued their journey to Teheran in the
perfect persuasion of the efficacy of the ceremony,--a persuasion
which they now found had cost them dear.
It is the same with dervishism as with all the other oriental
institutions, customs and manners; the more we penetrate towards the
East, the greater is the purity with which they have been preserved.
In Persia the dervishes play a much more important part than in
Turkey; and in Central Asia, isolated as it has been from the rest
of the world for centuries, this fraternity is still in full vigour,
and exercises a great influence upon society. In my "Travels," I
have frequently alluded to the position occupied by the _Ishan_
or secular priests in Central Asia. Their influence may be called
a fortunate one, contrasted with the fearful tyranny existing in
those countries. This is the reason why every one occupies himself
with religion; every one tries to pass himself off as a worker of
miracles (Ehli Keramet); or, if he fails in that, he endeavours
to be recognised as a saint (veli ullah ....) Those who make the
interpretation of the sacred writings their business are great
rivals of the _Ishans_, who, by the mysticism by which they surround
themselves, enjoy a large share of popular esteem. The native of
Central Asia, like the wildest child of Arabia, is more easily
imposed upon by magic formulas and similar hocus-pocus than by
books. He may dispense with the services of a Mollah, but he cannot
do without a _Ishan_, whose blessing (_fatiha_) or breath (_nefes_)
is required when he sets out on one of his predatory expeditions,
and upon which he looks as a talismanic power, when moving about his
herds, his tent, or the wilds of the desert.
After the Ishans, the most interesting class are the mendicant
dervishes (_Kalenter_),[3] which the Kirguese and Turkomans call
Kuddush[4] or Divani (insane). In the whole of the great deserts
which stretch from the eastern boundaries of China to the Caspian
Sea, it is only these people, in their ragged dress, who are able
to move unmolested. They do not take any notice of the differences
of tribe or family, and the mighty words, _Yaghi_ or _Il_ (friend
or enemy) have to them no meaning. In travelling along they join
whomsoever they meet, be it a peaceful caravan or band of _robbers_.
The dervishes who travel through Kirguese or Turkoman steppes are
generally this class of people, who form a strong inclination to
do nothing, follow a trade which throughout the East is considered
respectable, viz., that of a mendicant. All they have to acquire
is a few prayers and a certain power of mimicry, with which the
chiromantic feats are performed; and I have never seen a nomad who
has not been moved when he found himself in the close presence of
one of those long-haired, bare-headed, and bare-footed dervishes,
who, with his fiery eyes, stared hard at the son of the desert, and
whilst shaking his Keshkul[5] howled a wild "_Ja hu!_"
[3] Kalentor is a corruption of the old Persian Kelanter the
greater. In eastern Persia the title is still given to the judges of
villages.
[4] Kuddus is derived from Kud, to become mad. Thus, the Arabs call
the dervishes Medjnun, _i.e._, insane.
[5] Keshkul is a vessel formed of half a cocoa nut,--the _vade
mecum_ of the dervishes,--in which he plunges all the food he has
collected by begging, whether dry or fluid, sweet or sour. Such a
dish of _tutti frutti_ would but ill suit our gastronomers; and yet
how delicious it tasted to me after a long day's march.
The arrival of one of these fakirs in a lonely group of tents
is regarded as a joyful event, or almost a festival; it is of
especial importance in the eyes of the women; and the time of his
arrival is differently interpreted. Early in the morning signifies
the happy birth of a camel or a horse; at noon a quarrel between
husband and wife; and in the evening a good prospect of marriage to
the marriageable daughters. The dervish is generally taken in hand
by the women, and is well supplied with the best things the tent
contains, in hopes that he may be tempted to produce from beneath
his battered dress some glass beads, or other talisman. Alms, which
amongst the nomads seldom consist of money, are rarely denied him;
and he often receives an old carpet, a few handfuls of camel hair or
wool, or an old garment. He may also stop with the family for days,
and move about with it without his presence becoming a burden. If
the dervish possesses musical talent, _i.e._, able to sing a few
songs and accompany himself on the two stringed instrument called
dutara, he is made much of, and has the greatest difficulty in
getting away from the hospitable host.
It is very seldom that dervishes are insulted or ill-treated;
this, however, is said to be the case amongst the Turkomans, whose
rapacity knows no bounds, and prompts them to commit incredible acts
of cruelty. A dervish from Bokhara, of robust figure and dark curly
hair, whom I met at Maymene, told me that a Tekke-Turkoman, prompted
by the thirty ducats which his athletic figure promised to fetch
in the slave market, made him a prisoner to sell him a few days
afterwards. "I pretended," my colleague continued, "to be quite
unconcerned, and repeated the _Zikr_ whilst shaking my iron chains.
The time was fast approaching when I was to be taken to the market,
when suddenly the wife of the robber of my liberty and person was
taken ill, and prevented him from starting. He seemed to see in
this the finger of God, and began to be pensive, when his favourite
horse, refusing to eat his food, showed signs of illness." This was
enough. The robber was so frightened that he removed the chains of
his prisoner, and returned to him the things he had robbed him of,
begging him to leave his tent as soon as possible. Whilst a Turkoman
impatiently awaited the departure of the ominous beggar, the latter
fumbled about his dress, and pretended that he had lost a comb which
his chief had given him as a talisman on the road, and without which
he could not go a single step. The nomad returned in great haste to
the place where the plunder had been kept, and as the comb did not
turn up he became still more frightened, and promised the dervish
the price of twenty combs if he would only take a single step beyond
the boundary of his tent. The cunning bush-rite saw he was master
of the situation; he pretended to be inconsolable about the lost
property, and declared that he now would have to remain for years in
the tent. Imagine the confusion of the deceived and superstitious
robber! Like a madman he ran about asking his neighbour for advice.
Formal negotiations were now commenced with the dervish, to whom,
finally, a horse, a dress, and ten ducats were presented, to make up
for the loss of the comb, and on condition that he should leave a
tent whose proprietor will probably think twice before he ventures
again upon molesting a travelling dervish.
Besides the dervishes who, as physicians, miracle-working saints,
or harmless vagabonds, are wandering about in Central Asia, there
is a class called "_Khanka neshin_," or convent dwellers, who
always wish to appear as the poorest, and are without doubt the
most contemptible fellows in the world. Generally speaking they are
opium eaters, who by their excessive filth, skeleton-like body, and
frightfully distorted features, present a most repulsive appearance.
The worst is that they do not confine themselves to practising this
fearful vice themselves, but with a singular persistency endeavour
to make converts amongst all classes; and, supported by the want of
spirituous drinks, they succeed but too frequently in their wicked
attempts. What surprised me most was that these wretched people were
regarded as eminently religious, of whom it was thought that from
their love to God and the Prophet they had become mad, and stupefied
themselves in order that in their excited state they might be nearer
the Beings whom they loved so well.
Speaking of dervishes we may mention a class of hypocrites who,
under the pretence of carrying out sacred vows, indulge in their
desire to travel, and after their return assume, under the title
of Hadji (Pilgrims) authority and a good social position. The Koran
says, "_Hidji ala beiti min isti Itaatun sebila_"--Wander to my
house (_Kaaba_) if circumstances permit. These "circumstances" are
reduced to the following seven conditions by the commentators. The
pilgrimage must be undertaken, 1st,--With sufficient money for
travelling expenses; 2nd,--In bodily health; 3rd,--In an unmarried
state; 4th,--Without leaving debts behind; 5th,--In times of peace;
6th,--Overland and without danger; and, 7th,--By persons who have
reached the age of puberty. That our good Tartars ill-observe these
conditions will be evident to all who have some idea about the
countries situated between Oxus and Yaxartes. In Persia people go to
Kerbela, Meshed or Mekka, only when sufficient funds enable them to
do it comfortably. In Central Asia, on the contrary, it is always
the poorest class who undertakes pilgrimages. A certain taste for
adventure, coupled with religious enthusiasm, are the two motives
which prompt the inhabitants of Central Asia to start from the
remote east for the tomb of their Prophet. True, they do not suffer
any material losses, for a beggar's bag is a money bag; but they
frequently lose what is most precious to them--their life; as every
year at least one-third of the pilgrims from Turkestan die from
exposure to the climate.
This sacred or profane desire to travel braves all danger; this
vague thought of tearing himself away from his family, and friends,
and countrymen, to see the wide world, surrounds the Hadji with a
certain poetry. I have lived weeks with my companions, and yet it
always interested me to behold them, palm staff in hand, as a sacred
memento of Arabia, vigorously making their way through the deep sand
or mud. They were returning happily to their homes; but how many
did I meet who only commenced their long and tedious journey? and
yet they were equally happy. On my road from Samarkand to Teheran
I had as a companion a native of Chinese Tartary, who, in total
ignorance of the route he had to take, asked me every evening, even
when we were yet at Meshed, whether we should see to-morrow, or at
the farthest after to-morrow, the minarets of Mekka. The poor fellow
had no idea how much he would have to endure before he reached
his destination. However, this should not surprise us when we
remember that during the time of the crusades so many honest Teutons
undertook a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and after two or three
days' journey hoped to behold the walls of Jerusalem.[6]
[6] See Noesselt's "Geschichte für Tochter schulen," who also states
that many pilgrims, ignorant of the road, allowed themselves to be
led by a frightened goose which ran before them.
The routes to Arabia adopted by the pious Tartars are the following,
viz.:--1. Yarkend, Kilian, Tibet, Kashmir.[7] 2. Through Southern
Siberia, Kazan and Constantinople. 3. Through Afghanistan and
India to Djedda. 4. Through Persia, Bagdad, and Damascus. None of
these routes is a comfortable one, and the amount of danger to be
incurred is very much dependent upon the season of the year and
the political state of the countries through which they pass. The
travellers form themselves in larger or smaller companies, and
elect a chief (_Tchaush_) from amongst themselves, who also fills
amongst them the office of _Imam_, (the person who first says the
prayers to be repeated by the rest,) and who enjoys a considerable
superiority over his companions. A visit to the Kaaba and the tomb
of the Prophet (which may be paid at any season) is not so much the
culminating point of the whole pilgrimage as the ascent of Mount
Arafat. This can be made only once a year, viz., on the Kurban
festival, (10th Zil Hidje,) which is nothing more or less than
the sacrifice of Abraham and Isaac dramatized. All those who have
taken part in this festival and have joined in the cry, "Lebeïk
Allah!"--Command, Oh God," (in allusion to Abraham's implicit
obedience,) are regarded as genuine Hadjis. This cry of "Lebeïk!
Lebeïk!" uttered at the most solemn moment of the whole pilgrimage,
seems also to have the deepest impression upon the pilgrim himself.
My travelling companions, whenever they became excited or were in
a happy mood of mind, always alluded to it; and the stillness of
the Tartar deserts was often broken by this _memento_ of the stony
districts of Arabia.
[7] From Yarkend to Kilian on the boundary line are three days'
journey, from there, by way of Tagarma and Kadun, to Tibet, twenty
days, and thence to Kashmir fifteen days.
However painful and heartrending separation from home may be when
so long and dangerous a journey has to be undertaken, the joy which
the Hadjis experienced on their return fully counterbalances it.
Friends and relations, informed of his near arrival, go out to meet
them several days in advance. Hymns are sung, and tears of joy are
shed when the Hadji makes his entry into his native place. Every
one wants to embrace him, to touch him, for the atmosphere of holy
places still surrounds him, the dust of Mekka and Medina still
covers his garments. In Central Asia the Hadji is held in much
greater esteem than in any other Mohammedan country. It has cost
him much to obtain his dignity, but he is amply repaid. Respected
and supported by his fellow citizens he is better protected against
the tyranny of the Government than any other citizen. The title of
a "Hadji" is a patent of nobility, which, during his lifetime, he
parades on his seal, after death on his tombstone.
The Hadjis, of course such as are not mere beggars, often transact,
during their pious pilgrimage, a little commercial business. "_Hem
tidjared hem ziaret._"--"Commerce and pilgrimage together" are not
allowed by their religion; but nobody seems to suffer any pricks of
conscience in taking to his co-religionist in Arabia a few articles
from distant Turkomania. The products of Bokhara and other holy
places of Central Asia are in high esteem amongst the people of
Arabia; besides, every one wishes to show a Hadji some favour, and
is easily induced to pay double the value for any article offered.
This small trade is carried on between the easternmost point of
Islamitic Asia to the Galata bridge of Constantinople. Amongst the
crowd of that famous capital one often sees a Tartar, whose features
contrast as strangely with the rest of the population as the
colours of the thin silk kerchief differ from those of our European
manufacture. Fine ladies seldom become purchasers of such articles,
but old matrons are frequently seen, inspired by feelings of piety,
paying a good price for them, pressing them repeatedly to their
faces and forehead while repeating a loud "_Allahum u Sella_," and
continuing their walk.
That the successful sale of the exported articles leads to the
importation of similar merchandize needs no confirmation. No Hadji
leaves the holy places without making some purchases. At Mekka
he lays in a stock of scents, dates, rosaries and combs, but
especially water from the sacred well called Zemzem.[8] In Jamba
and Djedda are bought European goods; these go by the name of
Mali Istambul--"Stamboul Goods;" as the unbelieving Franks must
not obtain credit for anything, and they consist of penknives,
scissors, needles, thimbles, &c. Aleppo and Damascus enjoy the
reputation of supplying the best misvak, a fibrous root, used as
tooth brushes by all pious Moslems. In Bagdad are bought a hirka,
made of camel's hair, and of superior quality at this place, as it
is this kind of garment which the Prophet is said to have worn next
his skin. Finally, in Persia, ink, powder and pens made of canes are
purchased. In Central Asia all these articles are great curiosities,
and they are paid for handsomely, partly from necessity, partly from
religious motives.
[8] Zemzem is the name of a famous well on the road, of miraculous
power, the water of which is exported in small vessels to all
Islamite countries, as a single drop of it taken just at the moment
of death frees from 500 years of purgatory. The origin of the well
is ascribed to Ismail, who, after being left behind by Hagar,
stamped his little foot and made the well spring up.
Generally speaking a caravan of Hadjis, I mean one whose character
has been well inquired into, are the best travelling companions
one can have in Central Asia, or rather in the whole of the east,
provided one can manage to agree with them. With regard to the
travelling necessaries the Hadji is well supplied, and it was
always surprising to me to see how a man who had only one poor
donkey he could call his own, could make a display of a separate
tea-service[9] (à la Tartar,) Pilou-apparatus, and carpet when
arrived at the station at which we halted. Nobody is more clever
than a Hadji in negotiating, be the people he has to deal with
believers or unbelievers, nomads or agricultural tribes. A Hadji
may be converted into anything, he being thoroughly penetrated by
the principle "_Si fueris Romae_." Instead of being cast down and
gloomy, as his ragged exterior would lead us to suppose, he is of a
merry disposition, and during the long marches the greatest saint
and miracle-worker occasionally indulges in a profane joke. The
comicality of these generally serious faces has often made me forget
the privations which I was myself undergoing.
[9] The tea service consists of a can-like vessel made of copper,
and is, next to the Koran, the most indispensable _vade mecum_
of every travelling Tartar. Even the poorest beggar carries it,
suspended by the handle, about with him.