BOKHARA
RECEPTION AT THE TEKKIE, THE CHIEF NEST OF ISLAMISM
RAHMET BI
BAZAARS
BAHA-ED-DIN, GREAT SAINT OF TURKESTAN
SPIES SET UPON AUTHOR
FATE OF RECENT TRAVELLERS IN BOKHARA
BOOK BAZAAR
THE WORM (RISHTE)
WATER SUPPLY
LATE AND PRESENT EMIRS
HAREM, GOVERNMENT, FAMILY OF REIGNING EMIR
SLAVE DEPOT AND TRADE
DEPARTURE FROM BOKHARA, AND VISIT TO THE TOMB OF BAHA-ED-DIN.
_Within earth's wide domains
Are markets for men's lives;
Their necks are galled with chains,
Their wrists are cramped with gyves._
_Dead bodies, that the kite
In deserts makes its prey;
Murders that with affright
Scare school-boys from their play!_
--Longfellow.
[Bokhara; Reception at the Tekkie, the Chief Nest of Islamism]
The road led us to the Dervaze Imam, situated to the west, but we did
not pass through it, because, as our Tekkie lay to the north-east, we
should have been forced to make our way through all the throngs in the
bazaar. We preferred, therefore, to take a circuitous route along the
city wall. This we found, in many places, in a ruinous state. Entering
by the gate called Dervaze Mezar, we speedily reached the spacious
Tekkie. It was planted with fine trees, formed a regular square, and
had forty-eight cells on the ground floor. {168} The present Khalfa
(principal) is grandson of Khalfa Hüsein, renowned for his sanctity,
and the Tekkie itself is named after him. The estimation in which his
family stands is shown by the fact that his relative, above mentioned,
is Imam and Khatib (court priest) of the Emir, an official position
which made me not a little proud of my host. Hadji Salih, who was a
Mürid (disciple) of the saint, and was consequently regarded as a
member of the family, presented me. The respectable 'Abbot,' a man of
gentle demeanour and agreeable exterior, whom his snow-white turban
and summer dress of fine silk well became, received me in the warmest
manner, and, as I maintained for half-an-hour a conversation couched
in tumid and far-fetched language, the good man was overjoyed, and
regretted that the Badewlet [Footnote 43] (his Majesty the Emir) was
not in Bokhara, that he might immediately present me.
[Footnote 43: Badewlet means properly 'the prosperous one.']
[Rahmet Bi]
He assigned me a cell to myself in the place of honour, that is where
I had, as neighbours, on one side a very learned Mollah, and on the
other Hadji Salih: this establishment was filled with personages of
celebrity. I had fallen, without having remarked it, upon the chief
nest of Islamite fanaticism in Bokhara. The locality itself, if I
could but accommodate myself to its spirit, might turn out the best
and safest guarantee against all suspicions, and save me all
disagreeable scenes with the civil authorities. The reporter had
returned my arrival as an event of importance; the first officer of
the Emir, Rahmet Bi, who during his master's campaign in Khokand
commanded in Bokhara, had directed that the Hadjis should, that very
day, be questioned concerning me; {169} but in the Tekkie the Emir's
orders were inoperative, and so little respect was entertained for the
investigation, that no communication at all was made to me on the
subject. My good friends replied in the following manner to the doubts
of laymen:--'Hadji Reshid is not only a good Musselman, but at the
same time a learned Mollah; to have any suspicion of him is a mortal
sin.' But, in the meantime, they advised me how I was to act, and it
is solely to their counsels and invaluable suggestions that I can
ascribe my having entirely escaped mishap in Bokhara; for, not to
mention the sad ends of those travellers who preceded me to this city,
I have found it a most perilous place, not only for all Europeans, but
for every stranger, because the Government has carried the system of
espionage to just as high a pitch of perfection as the population has
attained pre-eminence in every kind of profligacy and wickedness.
[Bazaars]
I went next morning, accompanied by Hadji Salih and four others of our
friends, to view the city and the bazaars; and although the
wretchedness of the streets and houses far exceeded that of the
meanest habitations in Persian cities, and the dust, a foot deep, gave
but an ignoble idea of the 'noble Bokhara,' I was nevertheless
astonished when I found myself for the first time in the bazaar, and
in the middle of its waving crowd.
These establishments in Bokhara are indeed far from splendid and
magnificent, like those of Teheran, Tabris, and Isfahan; but still, by
the strange and diversified intermixture of races, dresses, and
customs, they present a very striking spectacle to the eye of a
stranger. In the moving multitude most bear the type of Iran, and have
their heads surmounted by {170} a turban, white or blue--the former
colour being distinctive of the gentleman or the Mollah, the latter
the appropriate ornament of the merchant, handi-craftsman, and
servant. After the Persian it is the Tartar physiognomy that
predominates. We meet it in all its degrees, from the Özbeg, amongst
whom we find a great intermixture of blood, to the Kirghis, who have
preserved all the wildness of their origin. No need to look the latter
in the face; his heavy, firm tread suffices alone to distinguish him
from the Turani and the Irani. Then imagine that you see in the midst
of the throng of the two principal races of Asia some Indians
(Multani, as they are here called) and Jews. Both wear a Polish cap,
for the sake of distinction, [Footnote 44] and a cord round their
loins; the former, with his red mark on his forehead, and his yellow
repulsive face, might well serve to scare away crows from rice fields;
the latter, with his noble, pre-eminently-handsome features, and his
splendid eye, might sit to any of our artists for a model of manly
beauty. There were also Turkomans distinguished from all by the
superior boldness and fire of their glance, thinking, perhaps, what a
rich harvest the scene before them would yield to one of their
Alamans. Of Afghans but few are seen. The meaner sort, with their long
dirty shirts, and still dirtier hair streaming down, throw a cloth, in
Roman fashion, round their shoulders; but this does not prevent their
looking like persons who rush for safety from their beds into the
streets, when their houses are on fire.
[Footnote 44: Elameti Tefrikie, which according to the provisions of
the Koran, every subject, not a Musselman, must wear in order that
the salutation 'Selam Aleïkum' (Peace be with you!) may not be
thrown away upon him.]
{171}
This diversified chaos of Bokhariots, Khivites, Khokandi, Kirghis,
Kiptchak, Turkomans, Indians, Jews, and Afghans, is represented in all
the principal bazaars; and although everything is in unceasing
movement up and down, I am yet unable to detect any trace of the
bustling life so strikingly characteristic of the bazaars in Persia.
I kept close to my companions, casting as I passed glances at the
booths, which contain, with a few articles from the other countries in
Europe, fancy goods and merchandise, more especially of Russian
manufacture. These have no particular intrinsic attractions in
themselves for a European traveller to this remote city; but they
interest him nevertheless, for each piece of calico, each ticket
attached to it, identifying the origin with the name of the
manufacturer, makes him feel as if he has met a countryman. How my
heart beat when I read the words 'Manchester' and 'Birmingham,' and
how apprehensive I was of betraying myself by an imprudent
exclamation! There are very few large warehouses or wholesale dealers;
and in spite of cotton, calico, and fine muslin being sold, not only
in the Restei Tchit Furushi (the place where cotton is exposed for
sale), which has 284 shops, but also in many other places in the city,
I might boldly affirm that my friends 'Hanhart and Company,' in
Tabris, dispose alone of as much of the articles above named as the
whole city of Bokhara, in spite of the latter being denominated the
capital of Central Asia. That department in its bazaar has more
interest for the stranger, where he sees spread out before him the
products of Asiatic soil and native industry; such, for instance, as
that cotton stuff named Aladja, which {172} has narrow stripes of two
colours, and a fine texture; different sorts of silken manufactures,
from the fine handkerchief of the consistence of the spider's web, to
the heavy Atres; but particularly manufactures in leather. These play,
indeed, a preeminent part; in this department the skill of the
leather-cutter, and still more, that of the shoemaker, deserves
commendation. Boots, both for male and female wear, are tolerably well
made: the former have high heels, terminating in points about the size
of a nail's head; the latter are somewhat thick, but often ornamented
with the finest silk.
I had almost forgotten the bazaar and booths where clothes are exposed
to tempt the eyes of purchasers. They consist of articles of attire of
brilliant bright colours.
The Oriental, only here to be met with in his original purity and
peculiarity, is fond of the Tchakhtchukh or rustling tone of the
dress. It was always an object of great delight to me to see the
seller parading up and down a few paces in the new Tchapan (dress), to
ascertain whether it gave out the orthodox tone. All is the produce of
home manufacture, and very cheap; consequently it is in the clothes'
market of Bokhara that 'believers,' even from remote parts of Tartary,
provide themselves with fashionable attire. Even the Kirghis,
Kiptchak, and Kalmuks are in the habit of making excursions hither
from the desert; and the wild Tartar, with his eyes oblique and chin
prominent, laughs for joy when he exchanges his clothes, made of the
undressed horse-skins, for a light Yektey (a sort of summer dress),
for it is here that he sees his highest ideal of civilisation. Bokhara
is his Paris or his London.
{173}
After having strolled around for about three hours, I begged my guide
and excellent friend, Hadji Salih, to lead me to a place of
refreshment, where I might be allowed a little repose. He complied,
and conducted me through the Timtche Tchay Furushi (Tea Bazaar) to the
renowned place Lebi Hauz Divanbeghi (bank of the reservoir of the
Divanbeghi). For Bokhara, I found this a most attractive spot. It is
almost a perfect square, having in the centre a deep reservoir, 100
feet long and 80 broad; the sides are of square stones, with eight
steps leading down to the surface of the water. About the margin stand
a few fine elm trees, and in their shade the inevitable tea booth, and
the Samovars (tea-kettle), looking like a colossal cask of beer. It is
manufactured in Russia expressly for Bokhara, and invites every one to
a cup of green tea. On the other three sides, bread, fruit,
confectionery, and meats warm and cold, are exposed for sale on stands
shaded by cane mats. The hundreds of shops improvised for the
occasion, around which crowds of longing mouths or hungry customers
hum like bees, present us with a very characteristic spectacle. On the
fourth side, that to the west, which is in the form of a terrace, we
find the mosque Mesdjidi Divanbeghi. At its front there are also a few
trees, where Dervishes and Meddah (public reciters) recount in verse
and prose, and actors represent simultaneously, the heroic actions of
famous warriors and prophets; to which performances there are never
wanting crowds of curious listeners and spectators. When I entered
this place, as fate would have it, still further to enhance the
interest of the exhibition, there were passing by, in their weekly
procession, Dervishes of the order of the Nakishbendi, of whom this
city is {174} the place of origin and the principal abode. Never shall
I forget that scene when those fellows, with their wild enthusiasm and
their high conical caps, fluttering hair, and long staves, danced
round like men possessed, bellowing out at the same time a hymn, each
strophe of which was first sung for them by their grey-bearded chief.
With eye and ear so occupied, I soon forgot my fatigue. My friend was
obliged positively to force me to enter a booth, and, after the
precious Shivin (a kind of tea) was poured out, wishing to profit by
the ecstatic feeling in which he found me, he asked me, chucklingly,
'Now, then, what do you say to Bokhara Sherif (the noble)?' 'It
pleases me much,' I replied; and the Central Asiatic, although from
Khokand, and an alien enemy, as his nation was at that moment at war
with Bokhara, was nevertheless delighted to find that the capital of
Turkestan had made such a conquest of me, and gave me his word that he
would show me its finest features in the course of the following days.
[Baha-ed-din, Great Saint of Turkestan]
In spite of the costume, strictly Bokhariot, which I had this day
assumed, and of my being so tanned by the sun that even my mother
would have had a difficulty in recognising me, I was surrounded,
wherever I appeared, by a crowd of inquisitive persons. Ah! how they
shook me by the hands, and how they embraced me; how they wearied me
to death! An immense turban [Footnote 45] crowned my head, a large
Koran hung suspended from my neck;
[Footnote 45: The turban, it is well known, represents the pall that
every pious Musselman must bear on his head as a continual memento
of death. The Koran only enjoins a pall (Kefen) having a length of 7
ells. But zealots often exceed the measure, and carry about on their
heads 4 to 6 such palls, thus making altogether from 28 to 42 ells
of fine muslin.]
{175}
I had thus assumed the exterior of an Ishan or Sheikh, and was obliged
to submit to the _corvée_ which I had so provoked. Still, I had reason
to be contented, for the sanctity of my character had protected me
from secular interrogations, and I heard how the people about
questioned my friends, or whispered their criticisms to each other.
'What extreme piety,' said one, 'to come all the way from
Constantinople to Bokhara alone, in order to visit our Baha-ed-din!'
[Footnote 46] 'Yes,' said a second, 'and we, too, we go to Mecca, the
holiest place of all, to be sure, with no little trouble.' But these
people (and he pointed to me) having nothing else to do, their whole
life is prayer, piety, and pilgrimage.' 'Bravo! you have guessed it,'
I said to myself, delighted that my disguise was becoming so pregnant
of consequence. And really I was, during my whole stay in the capital
of Turkestan, not once an object of doubt or suspicion to the people,
in other respects cunning and malicious enough. They came to me for my
blessing; they listened to me when, on the public places, I read to
them the history of the great Sheikh of Bagdad, Abdul Kadr Ghilani.
They praised me, but not a farthing did I ever get from them; and the
semblance of sanctity in this nation presented a singular contrast
with the genuine piety and benevolence of the Khivan Ozbegs.
[Footnote 46: Baha-ed-din,--or according to Bokhariot pronunciation,
Baveddin--is an ascetic and saint renowned throughout all Islam, the
founder of the Nakishbendi order; members of it are to be met with
in India, China, Persia, Arabia, and Turkey. He died in 1388, and
the convent, as well as the mosque, and space walled in for his
grave in the village of Baveddin, were erected by direction of Abdul
Aziz Khan in the year 1490.]
{176}
[Spies set upon Author; Fate of recent Travellers in Bokhara]
But in playing my part it was not so easy to deceive the Government as
the people. Rahmet Bi, whom I before spoke of, not being able to come
at me openly, set spies incessantly at work. These, in conversing with
me, took care to embrace a variety of subjects, but always came to the
subject of Frenghistan, hoping, probably, that I should betray myself
by some unguarded expression or other. Perceiving that the twig which
they had so limed did not catch its bird, they began to speak of the
great pleasure which the Frenghis experience in the 'noble' Bokhara,
and how already many of their spies, but particularly the Englishmen,
Conolly and Stoddart, had been punished. [Footnote 47] Or they
recounted to me the story of the Frenghis who had arrived only a few
days before, and had been imprisoned (referring to the unfortunate
Italians); how they had brought with them several chests of tea
sprinkled with diamond dust, to poison all the inhabitants of the holy
city; how they converted day into night, and brought about other
infernal strokes of art. [Footnote 48]
[Footnote 47: The sad fate of these two martyrs has continued to
remain, as I remarked, a secret even in Bokhara; the most
contradictory reports are up to the present day in circulation upon
this subject. The reader will readily understand that without
betraying my real identity it was impossible for me to put the
necessary questions to elicit any fresh information; and the sad
event having been so frequently and so fully entered into by Wolff,
Ferrier, T. W. Kaye, and others who have written officially and
unofficially upon the subject, any notices collected by myself in my
journey through Bokhara seem entirely useless and uncalled for.]
[Footnote 48: They, it appears, have recently been liberated.]
{177}
[Book Bazaar]
These bloodhounds were for the most part Hadjis who had long dwelt in
Constantinople, and whose design was to test at once my knowledge of
its language, and my acquaintance with its mode of living. After
listening to them a long time with patience, it was my habit to put on
an air of disgust, and to beg them to spare me any further
conversation about the Frenghis. 'I quitted Constantinople,' I said,
'to get away from these Frenghis, who seem indebted to the devil for
their understanding. Thank God I am now in the "noble" Bokhara, and do
not wish to embitter the time I spend here by any recollections.'
Similar language I employed also with the crafty Mollah Sherefeddin,
the Aksakal of the booksellers, who showed me a list of books which a
Russian ambassador, a few years ago, had left behind him. I threw my
eye carelessly over them and observed, 'Allah be praised, my memory is
not yet corrupted by the science and books of the Frenghis, as
unhappily is too often the case with the Turks of Constantinople!'
[Footnote 49]
[Footnote 49: One day, a servant of the Vizir brought to me a little
shrivelled individual, that I might examine him to see whether he
was, as he pretended, really an Arab from Damascus. When he first
entered, his features struck me much, they appeared to me European:
when he opened his mouth, my astonishment and perplexity increased,
for I found his pronunciation anything rather than that of an Arab.
He told me that he had undertaken a pilgrimage to the tomb of Djafen
Ben Sadik at Khoten in China, and wanted to proceed on his journey
that very day. His features during our conversation betrayed a
visible embarrassment, and it was a subject of great regret to me
that I had not an occasion to see him a second time, for I am
strongly disposed to think that he was playing a part similar to my
own!]
When Rhamet Bi saw that he could not, by his emissaries, found any
accusation, he summoned me to attend him. Of course, this was in the
form of a public invitation to a Pilow, which was also attended by a
circle composed of Bokhariot Ulemas. At my very entry I found that I
had a hard nut to crack, for the whole interview was a sort of
examination, in {178} which my incognito had to stand a running fire.
I saw, however, while it was yet time, the danger to which I was
exposed; and, to escape being surprised by some sudden question or
other, I assumed the part of one himself curious of information,
frequently interrogating these gentlemen as to the difference of
religious principles in the Farz, Sünnet, Vadjib, and Mustahab.
[Footnote 50]
[Footnote 50: These are the four grades expressing the importance of
the commandments of Islam. Farz means the duty enjoined by God
through the Prophet; Sünnet, the tradition emanating from the
Prophet himself without Divine inspiration. The latter two words,
Vadjib and Mustahab, signify ordinances originating with more recent
interpreters of the Koran; the former being obligatory, the latter
discretionary.]
My earnestness met with favour; and soon a very warm dispute arose
upon several points in Hidayet, Sherkhi Vekaye, and other books
treating of similar subjects; in this I was careful to take part,
praising loudly the Bokhariot Mollahs, and admitting their great
superiority, not only over me, but over all the Ulemas of
Constantinople. Suffice it to say that I got safe through this ordeal
also. My brethren, the Mollahs, gave Rahmet Bi to understand, both by
their signs and words, that his reporter had made a great mistake, and
that, even supposing me not to be a Mollah of distinction, I was still
one on the high road to receive worthily the lightning-flash of true
knowledge.
After this scene they left me to live a quiet life in Bokhara. It was
my practice first of all to fulfil at home the different duties
imposed upon me by my character of Dervish. I then proceeded to the
book bazaar, which contains twenty-six shops. A printed {179} book is
here a rarity. In this place, and in the houses of the booksellers
(for there is the great depot), many are the treasures that I have
seen, which would be of incalculable value to our Oriental historians
and philologists. Their acquisition was, in my case, out of the
question, for in the first place I had not the adequate means, and in
the second, any appearance of worldly knowledge might have prejudiced
my disguise. The few manuscripts that I brought back with me from
Bokhara and Samarcand cost me much trouble to acquire, and my heart
bled when I found that I was obliged to leave behind me works that
might have filled many an important history in our Oriental studies.
From the book market I was in the habit of resorting to the Righistan
(public place); it lay rather remote. Although larger and more
bustling than the Lebi Hauz, which I before described, it is far from
being so agreeable; we find here also a reservoir surrounded by booths
for tea; from the bank we can discern the Ark (castle or palace) of
the Emir, which is on the opposite side, situate upon high ground. The
portal was crowned by a clock; it had a gloomy appearance. I shuddered
when I passed by this nest of tyranny, the place where, perhaps, many
who preceded me had been murdered, and where, even at that moment,
three wretched Europeans were languishing so far from their country
and every possibility of succour. Near the gate lay fourteen pieces of
brass cannon, the long barrels of which were highly ornamented. The
Emir had sent them home from Khokand as trophies of the victories
gained in his campaign. Above, to the right of the palace, is Mesdjidi
Kelan, the largest mosque in Bokhara; it was built by Abdullah Khan
Sheibani.
{180}
After leaving the Righistan, I entered the tea-booth of a Chinese from
Komul, [Footnote 51] a man perfectly acquainted with the Turko-Tartar
language, and who passed here for a Musselman. This good man was very
friendly to me, and yet how far were our homes asunder! He recounted
to me much concerning the beautiful locality, much of the customs, and
the excellent dishes, too, of his fatherland! But his experience was
particularly great in matters connected with teas. How
enthusiastically he spoke when treating of the tea-shrub, which
displayed upon a single stem leaves of such a variety of flavours! He
had in his shop sixteen different kinds, which he could distinguish by
the touch. [Footnote 52]
[Footnote 51: Komul is distant 40 stations from Kashgar and 60 from
Bokhara.]
[Footnote 52:
The teas were of the following kinds:--
(1) Kyrkma.
(2) Akhbar.
(3) Ak Kuyruk.
These kinds, rarely seen in Central Asia and in China, are more
used in Russia, Persia, and Europe.
(4) Kara Tchaj.
(5) Sepet Tchaj.
These two, sold like Chinese Kynaster, pressed into the form of a
brick, are drunk only in the morning with cream and salt, and
are very stimulating.
(6) Shibaglu.
(7) Gore Shibaglu.
(8) Shivin.
(9) It Kellesi.
(10) Bönge.
(11) Poshun.
(12) Pu-Tchay.
(13) Tun tey.
(14) Gülbuy.
(15) Mishk-göz.
(16) Lonka.
These are all green teas, none others are in favour in the north of
China and in Central Asia. The last-named (Lonka) is regarded as the
most precious, a single leaf suffices for a cup which equals two of
ours.
The purchaser first forms a judgment of his tea by tasting a
leaf that has been already boiled: when the tea is good the leaf
is extremely fine and soft.]
{181}
I had, during my journey from Teheran to Bokhara, heard the latter
city so often described by my companions, that after a sojourn of
eight days I was quite at home. First of all Hadji Salih led me
everywhere, and then I continued my investigations alone, through the
city, its bazaars, and its colleges (Medresse), only accompanying my
friends when we received joint invitations to the house of a Chinese
Tartar who had settled there. We were on these occasions usually
treated to national dishes, to which my friends (I mean Hadji Bilal
and his party) had long been strangers. There is one which I will
impart in confidence to my European readers, for I can recommend it as
a dainty. It is called Mantuy, a sort of pudding filled with hashed
meat mixed with fat and spices. This they boil in a singular manner.
They place upon the fire a kettle of water, which is covered in at the
top, with the exception of an opening of about the size of one's
closed hand. Upon this opening are placed three or four strainers or
sieves, which close firmly, the under one being made fast with dough
to the kettle itself. As soon as the water begins to boil, and a
sufficient quantity of steam passes into the strainers, the Mantuy is
at first laid in the upper, and then in the lowest strainer; here it
is suffered to remain until done. It seems singular that the Chinese
should employ steam in the preparation of their meats! The Mantuys,
after having been boiled, are then often broiled in fat, when they
receive the name Zenbusi (lady's kiss). My friends from Kashgar and
Yarkend have many more dishes peculiarly their own, but these receipts
would only suit a Tartar cookery book.
{182}
[The Worm (Rishte)]
During the whole time of my stay in Bokhara, the weather was
insupportably hot; but another circumstance doubled my sufferings--the
apprehension of the Rishte (filaria Medinensis), by which, during the
season, one person in every ten is attacked. This obliged me to be
continually drinking warm water or tea. This affection is quite usual,
and is treated with as much indifference by those residing in Bokhara
during the summer season, as colds are with us. One feels, at first,
on the foot or on some other part of the body, a tickling sensation,
then a spot becomes visible whence issues a worm like a thread. This
is often an ell long, and it ought some days after to be carefully
wound off on a reel. This is the common treatment, and occasions no
extraordinary pain; but if the worm is broken off, an inflammation
ensues, and instead of one, from six to ten make their appearance,
which forces the patient to keep his bed a week, subjecting him to
intense suffering. The more courageous have the Rishte cut out at the
very beginning. The barbers in Bokhara are tolerably expert in this
operation. The part where the tickling sensation takes place is in an
instant removed, the worm extracted, and the wound itself soon heals.
Sometimes this malady, which is also common in Bender Abbasi (Persia),
recurs in the following summer, and that too, even when the patient is
in a different climate. It happened so with Dr. Wolff, the well-known
traveller, who dragged with him all the way from Bokhara one of these
long memorials of his journey. It did not show itself till he came to
England, when it was extracted, in Eastern fashion, {183} by the late
Sir Benjamin Brodie. Besides this affliction, the Bokhariots exhibit
many malignant sores, occasioned by their bad climate and still worse
water. It is more especially remarked that the women, who would
otherwise pass for not unattractive brunettes, are thus quite
disfigured with scars, perhaps to be remotely referred to their
sedentary habits.
[Water Supply]
Bokhara derives its water from the Zerefshan (distributor of gold),
whose course is north-easterly. Its channel is lower than the city
itself, and even in summer affords but a scanty supply. The water
flows through a canal, deep enough, but not maintained in a state of
cleanliness. It is permitted to enter the city at the gate Dervaze
Mezar once in intervals of from every eight to fourteen days,
according as the height of the river may allow. The appearance of the
water, tolerably dirty even when it first enters, is always a joyful
occurrence for the inhabitants. Then first the inhabitants, young and
old, precipitate themselves into the canals and reservoirs to make
their ablutions; afterwards the horses, cows, and asses come to take
their baths; and when the dogs finally have cooled themselves there a
little, all entrance is forbidden, the water is left to settle, become
clear and pure. It has, it is true, absorbed thousands of elements of
miasma and filthiness! Such is the attention that Bokhara, the noble,
pays to this indispensable necessary of life--Bokhara, whither flock
thousands of scholars to learn the principles of a religion that
consecrates the principle that 'Cleanliness is derived from Religion.'
[Footnote 53]
[Footnote 53: 'El nezafet min el iman.']
{184}
[Late and present Emirs; Harem, Government, Family of Reigning
Emir.]
It is impossible for me to forget Bokhara, were it only on account of
the efforts with respect to religion which I have noticed there both
on the part of Government and people. I often heard it affirmed that
'Bokhara is the true support of Islam.' [Footnote 54] The title is
too weak; it should be rather termed the 'Rome of Islam,' since Mecca
and Medina are its Jerusalem. Bokhara is aware of her superiority, and
plumes herself upon it in the face of all the other nations of Islam;
yes, even before the Sultan himself, who is yet acknowledged as the
official chief of religion; but he is not so readily pardoned for
having suffered so much to be corrupted in his territories by the
influence of the Frenghis. In my supposed character of Osmanli, I was
called upon to explain fully:
[Footnote 54: 'Bokhara kuvveti islam ü din est.' ]
First. Why the Sultan does not put to death all the Frenghis who live
in his dominions, and yet pay no Djizie (tribute); why he does not
every year undertake a Djihad (religious war), as he has unbelievers
on all his frontiers.
Secondly. Why the Osmanlis, who are Sunnites, and belong to the sect
of the Ebuhanife, do not wear the turban, nor the long garments
prescribed by the law and reaching to the ancles; why they have not a
long beard and short moustachios, like 'the glory of all mundane
creatures,' as the Prophet is styled.
Thirdly, why the Sunnites, both in Constantinople and Mecca, sing the
Ezan (call to prayer) when they utter it, which is a frightful sin;
why they are not all Hadjis there, as they dwell so nigh the holy
places; &c. &c.
I did my utmost to save the religious honour of the honest Osmanlis,
and if I was obliged occasionally to pronounce, with a blush on my
cheek, the 'Pater, {185} peccavi,' I could not but internally
felicitate the Turks on retaining, in spite of their being under the
influence of a corrupt Islamism, many good qualities and fine traits
of character, whereas their fellow-religionists, who boast that they
are refreshing themselves at the very fountain of the pure faith,
delight in nothing but the blackest mendacity, in hypocrisy, and in
impositions. How often was I forced to witness one of the Khalka
(circle) which devotees form by squatting down close to each other in
a ring, to devote themselves to the Tevedjüh (contemplation), or, as
the western Mahomedans call it, the Murakebe of the greatness of God,
the glory of the Prophet, and the futility of our mortal existence! If
you, a stranger, behold these people, with their immense turbans, and
their arms hanging down folded upon their laps, sitting in their
cramped position, you could not help believing them to be beings of a
purer, loftier nature, who seek to cast from them the burden of clay,
and adopt the full spirit of the Arabian saying--
'The world is an abomination, and those who toil about it are dogs.'
[Footnote 55]
[Footnote 55: 'Ed dünya djifetun ve talibeha kilab.']
Look only more attentively, and you will not fail to perceive that
many have, from deep reflection, fallen into deeper slumber; and
although they begin to snore, like hounds after a hard day's hunting,
beware how you breathe any reproach, or the Bokhariot will soon set
you right with the observation, 'These men have made such progress,
that even whilst they snore they are thinking of God and of
immortality!' In Bokhara only the external form of the thing is
required. {186} Each city has its Reïs, [Footnote 56] who, with a
cat-o'-four-tails in his hand, traverses the streets and public
places, examines each passer by in the principles of Islamism, and
sends the ignorant, even if they be grey-bearded men of threescore
years, for periods varying from eight to fourteen days, to the boys'
school; or he drives them into the mosques at the hour of prayer. But
whether, in the former case, they learn anything in school, or go to
sleep there--whether, in the latter, they pray in the mosque, or are
thinking how their daily occupations have been cut short,--all this is
the affair of nobody whatever. The Government insists upon nothing but
the external appearance; what lies within is known to God alone.
[Footnote 56: Guardian of religion.]
What need to insist that the spirit in which religion is administered
has a powerful influence upon both Government and society? The Iranian
blood of the inhabitants (for two-thirds of the inhabitants of the
city of Bokhara are Persians, Mervi, and Tadjiks), gives a little
semblance of vitality to the bazaars and public places; but what
dreariness and monotony in the private houses! Every trace of gladness
and cheerfulness is banished from those circles where the influence of
religion and the system of surveillance are so tyrannically felt. The
Emir's spies force their way even into the sanctuaries of families,
and woe to the man who permits himself to offend against the forms of
religion or the authority of the sovereign. Ages of oppression have
now so intimidated the people that husband and wife, even with no
third person present, do not dare to pronounce the Emir's name without
adding the words, 'God grant him to live 120 years!' It must be also
admitted that the poor people feel no sentiment of hatred for their
ruler, because tyrannical caprice does not seem to them as a {187}
thing to be wondered at, but is rather looked upon in the light of an
inevitable attribute of princely dignity. Emir Nasr Ullah, the father
of the present ruler of Bokhara, was, in the last years of his life, a
cruel profligate, who visited with capital punishment immorality in
others, and yet himself violated, in the most shameless manner, the
honour of his subjects. Few were the families who escaped unscathed;
and still no one permitted even a breath of blame to escape his lips.
The reigning Emir, Mozaffar-ed-din Khan, happily, is a well-disposed
man; and although he enforces with severity the laws respecting
religion and morals, he cannot be charged himself with any crime;
hence the unceasing praises and glorifications of which he is the
object on the part of his people.
I saw the Emir afterwards in Samarcand; he is in the forty-second year
of his age, of middle stature, somewhat corpulent. He has a very
pleasing countenance, fine black eyes, and a thin beard. In his youth
he acted as governor one year in Karshi, and eighteen in Kermineh, and
was always distinguished for the gentleness and affability of his
manners. He carries out strictly the political principles of his
father, and in his capacity as Mollah and pious Musselman is the
declared enemy of every innovation even when he may be convinced of
its utility. On his accession he had impressed upon his signet the
device
'Government by justice,' [Footnote 57]
and up to the present moment has most scrupulously observed it. Many
reports in circulation respecting him confirm the remark. True,
according to our view of things, there seems great exaggeration in
{188} a system of justice which led the Emir to send his Mehter, the
second in rank of his officers, to execution, for having (for it was
in this form that the report reached Khokand) thrown a dubious glance
at one of the royal slaves; nor should a prince, whose device is
'justice,' have conducted himself as the Emir did in Khokand. But all
these faults are very pardonable in a Khan of Bokhara. Towards his
grandees, who for the most part well merit the treatment they meet
with, he is very severe, for although punishing with death even
trivial offences in these, he spares the poorer classes. Hence the
expression applied to him by the people, and which does him honour,
for they say of him that he is 'killer of elephants and protector of
mice.' [Footnote 58]
[Footnote 57: 'El Hükm bil Adl.']
[Footnote 58: Filkush and Mushperver.]
It is singular what pains the Emir takes to throw obstacles in the way
of his subjects whenever they seek to depart from the simplicity and
modesty of their present, in his opinion, happy condition. The
introduction of articles of luxury, or other expensive merchandise, is
forbidden, as also the employment of sumptuousness in house or dress:
in offences of this description there is no respect of persons. His
Serdari Kul (commandant-in-chief), Shahrukh Khan, sprung from a
collateral branch of the royal family of Persia (Kadjar), having fled
hither from Astrabad, where he had been governor, had been long held
here in high honour and distinction; but, desirous of living in the
Persian manner, he ordered, at great expense, a house to be erected
one story high, like those in Teheran; in this, besides other articles
of luxury, glass windows were inserted; it is said to have cost
altogether 15,000 Tilla, regarded {189} in Bokhara an enormous sum; it
was of a description calculated to throw into the shade even the Ark
(palace) itself. The Emir had been informed of this from the very
beginning, but he waited until the whole was quite finished, and then
suddenly Shahrukh Khan was accused of an offence against religion,
thrown into confinement, and then exiled. The house was confiscated
and reverted to the Emir: an offer was made to purchase it, and at a
sum exceeding the cost price, but no! he directed it to be demolished;
the ruins themselves, however, appearing too ornamental, he ordered
them to be entirely destroyed, with the sole reservation of the
timber, which was sold to a baker for 200 Tilla, in scorn and mockery
of all who should venture to give way to a taste for luxuries. Even in
his domestic arrangements the Emir is widely different from his
father; and it did not appear to me that there could have been more
than half the retinue of servants which M. de Khanikoff saw at the
Court of Nasr Ullah, and of which, as of so many other particulars
concerning Bokhara, the Russian traveller gives so careful, so exact
and circumstantial an account.
Mozaffar-ed-din Khan has (for it is a custom of his religion) four
legitimate wives and about twenty others, the former natives of
Bokhara, the latter slaves, and, as I was told seriously, only
employed to tend upon the children, of whom there are sixteen, ten
girls (but I beg pardon, princesses), and six boys (Tore). The two
eldest princesses are married to the governors of Serepool and Aktche;
only, as these two cities have fallen into the hands of the Afghan,
his two sons-in-law live as the Emir's guests, like kings _sans
portefeuilles_. The harem is presided over by the sovereign's mother,
formerly a {190} Persian slave (born at Kademgihah, near Meshed), and
by his grandmother, Hakim Ayim. It bears a high character for chastity
and orderly training. It is forbidden to the laity on pain of death to
enter, or even to throw a glance or direct a thought thither: this is
permitted alone to pious Sheikhs or Mollahs, whose Nefes (breath) is
of notorious sanctity; and it was by this title that our friend Hadji
Salih was summoned to administer a dose of the Khaki Shifa (health
powder from Medina). The cost of the harem, as far as dress, board,
and other necessaries are concerned, is very small. The ladies make
not only their own clothes, but often even the garments of the Emir,
who is known to be a strict economist, and to exercise severe control
over everything. The daily kitchen expenses of the palace are said to
be from sixteen to twenty Tenghe (rather more than from nine to ten
shillings), which is very likely, as his table rarely offers any
confectionery, and consists merely of pilow boiled with mutton fat.
The expression 'princely table' is inapplicable to Bokhara, where one
and the same dish satisfies prince, official, merchant, mechanic, and
peasant.
The man that has wandered about through the deserts of Central Asia
will still find in Bokhara, in spite of all its wretchedness,
something of the nature of a metropolis. My fare now consisted of good
bread, tea, fruit, and boiled meats. I had two shirts made, and the
comforts of civilised life became to me so agreeable that I was really
sorry when I received notice from my friends to prepare for the
journey, as they wished to gain their remote Eastern homes before the
winter set in. My intention was to keep them company provisionally as
far as Samarcand, {191} as I somewhat dreaded my interview with the
Emir, and their society in many respects would be of great service to
me. I was to decide in the last-named city whether to proceed to
Khokand and Kashgar, or to return alone by Kerki, Karshi, and Herat.
My excellent friends, Hadji Bilal and Hadji Salih, did not wish to
influence me, but to provide for the case of a possible return.
Desirous as far as they could to aid me, they had introduced me to a
Kervanbashi from Herat, who was staying in Bokhara, and thought of
finally returning in three weeks to the former city. His name was
Mollah Zeman: he had been formerly known to my friends. They
recommended me to his care, as if I had been their own brother, and it
was determined, if I returned from Samarcand, that we should meet
three weeks afterwards in Kerki, on the farther bank of the Oxus.
This, the first step suggestive of a final separation, was very
affecting to us all. Hitherto I had found consolation in the very
uncertainty of my purpose; for to my fancy an extension of my travels
to Kashgar, Aksu, and Khoten, rich in musk--countries to which no
European before me had penetrated--had infinite charm and poetical
attraction.
[Slave Depot and Trade]
But my thoughts have been so engaged by the memory of this visit to
Mollah Zeman, that I was about to forget to describe the spot where I
found him. It was in a karavanserai appropriated to the trade in
slaves. Of this I cannot forbear to give the reader a slight sketch.
The building, which formed a square, contained, it may be, from thirty
to thirty-five cells. Three wholesale dealers in this abominable
traffic had hired these buildings as a depôt for the poor wretches,
who were partly their own goods and {192} chattels, and partly
entrusted to them as commission brokers for the Turkomans. As is well
known, the Karaktchi, unable to wait long, are accustomed to sell
their slaves to some Turkoman who has more means at his disposal. The
latter brings them to Bokhara, and is the chief gainer by these
transactions, as he buys immediately from the producer. In the very
first days of his arrival in the capital, he sells all those for whom
he can find customers; the remainder he leaves behind him in the hands
of the Dellal (broker), who is more especially the wholesale dealer.
Human beings are sold in Bokhara and Khiva from the age of three to
that of sixty, unless they possess such defects as cause them to be
regarded as cripples. According to the precepts of their religion,
unbelievers alone can be sold as slaves; but Bokhara, that has nothing
more than the semblance of sanctity, evades without scruple such
provisions, and makes slaves not only of the Shiite Persians, who were
declared 'unbelievers' so long ago as 1500 by the Mollah Schemseddin,
but also many professors of the Sunnite tenets themselves, after they
have, by blows and maltreatment, been compelled to style themselves
Shiites. It is only the Jew, whom they pronounce to be incapable, that
is unworthy of becoming a slave, a mode of showing their aversion, of
course, anything but disagreeable to the children of Israel, for
although the Turkoman will make booty of his property, and strip him
of everything, he will not touch his body. At an earlier period, the
Hindoos also formed an exception. More recently, as they flocked by
Herat into Bokhara, the Tekke or Sarik began to lay down new rules for
their procedure. The unfortunate worshipper of Vishnoo is now first
metamorphosed {193} into a Musselman, then made a Shiite; and not
until this double conversion has taken place is the honour conferred
upon him of being plundered of all his property, and being reduced to
the condition of a slave.
The slave exposed to sale is, when a male, made the subject of public
examination: the seller is obliged to guarantee that he has none of
those moral or bodily defects, which constitute to his knowledge
latent unsoundness: that is to say, where, though they are not
discernible to the eye, they exist in a rudimentary state.
To the slave himself, the happiest hour is when he passes out of the
hand of the slave-dealer; for no treatment, however hard, which awaits
him with his eventual master can be so oppressive and painful as that
which he has to pass through whilst he remains an article of commerce
exposed for sale in the shop.
The price varies with the political circumstances of the Turkomans,
according as they find (for upon such does the production of the
article depend) greater or less facility for their Alaman in the
adjoining district. For instance: at the present day the highest price
of a man in the maturity of his strength is from 40 to 50 Tilla (about
from £21-£36); after a victory, when 18,000 Persian soldiers had been
made prisoners at one time, a man was to be had for a sum of 3 or 4
Tillas.
[Departure from Bokhara, and Visit to the Tomb of Baha-ed-din.]
After having stayed twenty-two days in Bokhara I found it impossible
any longer to delay my friends, and it was arranged that we should at
once start for Samarcand. Our living in Bokhara, as no one here,
however liberal with his shakings of the hand, gave us a single
farthing, had very much impaired our {194} finances. What we had been
able to make in Khiva was all exhausted, and, like many of my
companions, I had been forced to dispose of my ass, and henceforth our
journey was to be continued in a hired two-wheeled cart. Particular
members of our karavan, who belonged to Khokand or Khodjend, had
already parted from us, and gone their own several ways alone. Those
who had hitherto remained together were natives of Endighan or Chinese
Tartars. These, however, in proceeding to Samarcand, selected
different routes. Hadji Salih, Hadji Bilal's party, and myself
determined upon following the straight road; the others, who were on
foot, were anxious to undertake a pilgrimage, by way of Gidjdovan, to
the tomb of the Saint Abdul Khalik. [Footnote 59]
[Footnote 59: Khodja Abdul Khalik (named Gidjovani, died 1601) was
contemporary with the famous Payende Zamini, and stands in high
repute for learning, asceticism, and sanctity.]
Many Bokhariots, on my return, intimated a wish to accompany me to
Mecca. I, therefore, was obliged to employ much delicate diplomacy,
for certainly their company would have been a source of great
embarrassment in either case, whether we found ourselves before the
Kaaba or on the banks of the Thames!
I took leave of all my friends and acquaintances. Rahmet Bi gave me
letters of introduction for Samarcand, and I promised to wait upon the
Emir there. The Khokand vehicle, which we had hired to convey us as
far as Samarcand, had been previously sent on to wait for us at the
village Baveddin, to which place of pilgrimage we had now, according
to the custom of the country, to pay our second visit--our visit of
adieu. This village is distant two leagues from Bokhara, and is, as
before said, the place of {195} interment of the renowned Baha-ed-din
Nakishbend, founder of the order bearing the same name, and the chief
fountain of all those extravagances of religion which distinguish
Eastern from Western Islamism. Without entering into more details,
suffice it to mention, that Baha-ed-din is venerated as the national
saint of Turkestan, as a second Mohammed; and the Bokhariot is firmly
persuaded that the cry alone of a 'Baha-ed-din belagerdan' [Footnote
60] is sufficient to save from all misfortune. Pilgrimages are made to
this place even from the most remote parts of China. It is the
practice in Bokhara to come hither every week, and the intercourse is
maintained with the metropolis by means of about 300 asses that ply
for hire. These stand before the Dervaze Mezar, and may be had for a
few Pul (small copper coins). Although the road, in many places,
passes over deep sand, these animals run with indescribable speed on
their journey to the village; but, what is considered very surprising,
they cannot, without repeated blows, be induced to return. The
Bokhariot ascribes this circumstance to the feeling of devotion that
the saint inspires even in brutes; for do they not run to his tomb,
and evince the greatest indisposition to quit it?
[Footnote 60: 'O Baha-ed-din, thou avevter of evil!']
The tomb is in a small garden. On one side is a mosque. This may be
approached through a court filled with blind or crippled mendicants,
the perseverance of whose applications would put to shame those of the
same profession in Rome or Naples. In the front of the tomb is the
famous Senghi murad (stone of desire), which has been tolerably ground
away and made smooth by the numerous foreheads of pious pilgrims that
have been rubbed upon it. Over {196} the tomb are placed several rams'
horns and a banner, also a broom that served a long time to sweep out
the sanctuary in Mecca. Attempts have also been made upon several
occasions to cover the whole with a dome, but Baha-ed-din, like many
other saints in Turkestan, has a preference for the open air, and
every edifice has been thrown down after a lapse of three days from
its first erection. Such is the tale told by the Sheikhs, descendants
of the saint, who keep watch in turn before the tomb, and recount,
with impudence enough, to the pilgrims that their ancestor was
particularly fond of the number seven. In the seventh month he came
into the world, in his seventh year he knew the Koran by heart, and in
his seventieth he died. Hence also the contributions and gifts laid
upon his grave are to have the peculiarity that they must not be
anything else than multiples of seven or the number seven itself.
A quarter of a league from the tomb of Baha-ed-din, in an open field,
is that of Miri Kulah, the master and spiritual chief of the former.
But the master is far from enjoying the same honour and repute as the
disciple.
{197}