The Catholic World Volume Iii Part 64

"Alas! why must we add that in entering this city all this prestige vanishes, and gives place to a bitter disappointment? We were obliged to cross the cemetery before reaching the inhabited quarters, and in spite of myself, this line of a Persian poet, which to-day seems tinged with a cruel irony, came to my mind?

"Samarcand is the sun of the world."

The same evening Vambery and his companions were received in a house very near the tomb of Timour. Our traveller was delighted to learn that his host filled important functions near the Emir. The return of this prince, who had just finished a victorious campaign in Khokand, being expected very soon, Hadji Salih and Haji Bilal consented, out of regard to their friend, to prolong their stay in Samarcand until Vambery had obtained an audience of Mozaffar ed Din, and found a caravan with which he might return to Persia. While waiting the pilgrims visited the ancient monuments of the city, which, in spite of its miserable appearance, is the richest city in Central Asia in historical remembrances. The plan of this sketch does not permit us to follow the author in the details which he gives of these remarkable buildings. We only cite.

1. The summer palace of Timour, which preserves, even to-day, some vestiges of its ancient magnificence. The apartment, to which we ascend by a marble staircase of forty steps, {398} contains rich mural paintings, made with colored bricks, and the pavement, entirely of mosaic, preserves the freshness and brilliancy of the first day.

2. The citadel, where we admire in a vast apartment called "Timour's audience-hall," the celebrated _Koktash_ (green stone) upon which was placed the throne of the famous conqueror.

3. The tomb of Timour, surmounted by a very beautiful stone of deep green, two spans and a half wide, ten long, and of the thickness of six fingers. Not far from this a black stone shades the sepulchre of _Mir Seid Berke_, the spiritual director of the emir, near whom the powerful monarch wished to be buried. In the vaults of this mausoleum is preserved a copy of the Koran written upon gazelle skin, by the hand of Osman, the secretary and successor of Mohammed.

4. The _Midusses_, of which many, entirely abandoned, are falling into ruin; others, yet flouris.h.i.+ng, are maintained with care. The most remarkable is that of Tillakair, so called from its golden ornaments.

The new city is much smaller than the ancient capital of Timour; it has six gates, and several bazaars where they sell at a very low price manufactured articles, confessedly of European workmans.h.i.+p. Vambery, without thinking, like the Tartars, that "Samarcand resembles Paradise," still found it quite superior to other Turcoman cities, by the beauty of its situation, the splendor of its monuments, and the richness of its vegetation.

Meanwhile, days pa.s.sed and the emir did not arrive, the caravan which was to take Vambery back prepared to start, when the conqueror of Khokand at last made his triumphant entry. Mozaffar ed Din, following the unscrupulous policy adopted in the east, had organized a vast conspiracy against the sovereign of the rival khanat; then hired a.s.sa.s.sins, by his orders, delivered him from his enemies; and profiting by the confusion thus caused, Mozaffar succeeded in making himself master of the capital. At this news Samarcand burst into transports of joy, the people considered Mozaffar as a new Timour, who was about to reduce successively under his dominion, China, Persia, Afghanistan, India, and Europe; in their warlike ardor the Turcomen saw already the world divided between their prince and the Sultan of Constantinople. Nor must we be so much surprised that the taking of Khokand had so greatly excited them; this city, four times as large, they say, as Teheran, is the capital of a powerful khanat, which has for a long time remained in a state of perpetual hostility to the Bokharists. But one foresees that the Russian government will soon establish peace between these two enemies, in a.s.suming the part of the judge in the fable. It slowly pursues its end, sows division, and already its bayonets have subjected Tashkend, the most western city of Khokand, and equally important in a commercial and military point of view.

At the period when Vambery visited Samarcand, the intoxication of the victory obtained by the emir dispelled all gloom; the Europeans and their encroachments were forgotten in the noisy rejoicings. The happy return of Mozaffar ed Din was celebrated by a national festival, in which rice, mutton, tallow, and tea were distributed to the people with royal prodigality; the next day, the emir having granted his subjects a public audience, our traveller seized the occasion to be presented. Accompanied by his friends the pilgrims, he was preparing to enter the palace, when a Mehrem stopped him, saying that his Majesty desired to see the hadji of Constantinople alone. "We were extremely alarmed," relates Vambery; "this distinction seemed to us an ill omen. Nevertheless, I followed the officer with a firm step. He introduced me into a s.p.a.cious hall, where I perceived the emir seated upon an ottoman, and surrounded with books and ma.n.u.scripts of all sorts. I did not suffer myself to be intimidated by the cold and severe air of the {399} prince, and after having recited a short _sura_, followed by the habitual prayer for the sovereign, I seated myself without asking permission near the royal person. He did not appear offended, for my character of dervish authorized this conduct, but he fixed upon me his great black eyes with a suspicious and interrogatory air, as if he would read to the bottom of my soul.

Fortunately, for a long time I have lost the habit of blus.h.i.+ng, therefore I sustained this scrutiny with coolness.

"Hadji," at last the emir said to me, "you have come from Turkey, I understand, to visit the tombs of Baveddin and the saints of Turkestan?"

"'Yes, Takhsir' (Your Majesty), but I wished also to refresh myself with the sight of your divine beauty.'

"'It is very strange! how, have you no other motive for undertaking so long a journey?'

"'No, Takhsir; I have always had an ardent desire to behold the n.o.ble Bokhara, the enchanting Samarcand, the sacred soil of which, according to the remark of the sheikh Djilal, ought to be trodden with the head rather than with the feet. I have beside no other business in this world, and for a long time I have wandered about like a pilgrim of the universe.'

"A pilgrim of the universe! you, with your lame leg!'

"'Remember, Takhsir, that your glorious ancestor Timour, [Footnote 63] peace be with him, had the same infirmity, which did not hinder him from being the conqueror of the universe.'

[Footnote 63: This prince, from whom the emirs of Bokhara pretend to descend, was lame, from whence came the surname of Timonr-leuk, or Timour the lame, of which we make Tamerlan (Fr.), Tamerlane (Eng.) ]

"These words charmed the emir; he addressed to me various questions relating to my journey, asking the impression which Bokhara and Samarcand had made upon me. My answers, all wrapped in Persian sentences and verses of the Koran, gained the confidence of the prince. Before dismissing me, he gave an order to remit to me a complete suit of clothes, and to count me out thirty tenghes."

Vambery, much elated, hastened to inform his friends of the result of the interview; they advised him not to count too surely on the royal protection, and not to defer his departure. It cost him much to quit these good dervishes, generous and devoted hearts, the faithful companions of his hours of suffering. The bold explorer, the witty and sarcastic writer, full of pungent humor, here finds words which indicate deep feeling "I cannot describe," says he, "the emotion with which we parted. For six months, we had lived the same life, shared the same perils; perils in the midst of the burning sands of the desert, perils from the savage Turcomen, perils from the inclemency of nature and the elements. Differences of age, of position, of nationality, had disappeared; we were members of one family. Now we were to separate, never to meet again; death could not have parted us more widely, nor left in our souls a deeper grief. My heart overflowed, and I sobbed aloud, when I thought that even in this supreme hour, I could not confide to these men, my best, my dearest friends, the secret of my disguise. I must deceive those to whom I owed my life. This thought caused me a real remorse: I sought, but in vain, an occasion for bringing out the dangerous confidence."

How, in fact, could he tell these pious pilgrims, zealous believers, that the friend whose religious learning they had admired, whose faith and virtue they respected, was an impostor, who, urged by the thirst for secular learning, had surprised their confidence, profaned their ministry, had trifled, in a word, with their dearest sentiments? Such an avowal might not, perhaps, have broken the bonds of affection which united him to the two dervishes, but what a bitter deception for these fervent and sincere souls t {400} And why destroy an illusion so sweet? Vambery retained the secret ready to escape him; his eyes swimming in tears, he tore himself from the embraces of his friends.

"I see them always," he adds, "motionless in the place where I had quitted them, the hands raised toward heaven, imploring the blessing of Allah for my journey. Many times I turned my head to see them again; at last they disappeared in the fog, and I could distinguish only the domes of Samarcand, feebly lighted by the rays of the moon."

The journey home was marked by fewer dramatic incidents. Vambery had to cross the country of Bokhara, but avoiding the capital, he arrived after three days at Kars.h.i.+, the second city of the khanat in extent and commercial relations. It contains six caravansaries and a well-supplied market, where are seen very remarkable articles of native cutlery, which are largely exported into central Asia, Persia, Arabia, and even into Turkey. These fine blades, richly damaskeened, the handles covered with incrustations of gold and silver, are far superior to the best products of Sheffield or Birmingham. Vambery's new companions advised him to use such funds as he had left, in purchasing knives, needles, and gla.s.s-ware, the exchange of which would secure a pilgrim the means of existence among the nomad tribes.

Our traveller thought it best to follow this prudent counsel, and add, as he gaily remarks, "the profession of merchant to that of antiquary, hadji and mollah, without prejudice to a crowd of not less important functions, such as bestowing benedictions, holy breathings, amulets, and talismans."

The caravan pa.s.sed through Bokhara without disturbance; the rigor with which the emir enforces the police regulations rendering all the roads from across the desert perfectly secure, not only for caravans, but even for individual travellers. Vambery could hardly contain his joy in crossing the frontier: at every step he approached the West; he was about to revisit Persia, the first stage of civilization, the object of his ardent desires. Other members of the caravan were not less impatient, these were Iranian slaves, returning to their own country.

One of them, an old man, bent under the weight of years, had been to Bokhara to pay the ransom of his son, the only support of his family, the price demanded was fifty ducats, and the poor father had exhausted his resources in the payment. "But," said he, "better to fear the staff of the beggar than to leave my son in chains." Another of these unhappy men greatly excited Vambery's compa.s.sion; his wasted features, and hair prematurely white, proved sufficiently his sufferings, eight years previous, a Turcoman raid had carried away his wife, his sister and his six children; the unfortunate man pursued them, vainly sought them in the two Khanats of Khiva and Bokhara; when at last he discovered the place of their captivity, his wife, his sister and two children had perished under the rigors of slavery. Of the four who remained he was able to ransom only two; the others having become men, their master exacted so heavy a ransom that the unhappy father was unable to raise the sum.

These instances give but a faint idea of the scourge which has for centuries depopulated the north of Persia and neighboring countries.

The Turcomen Tekkes number to-day more than fifteen thousand mounted plunderers, whose only occupation consists in organizing a system of vast brigandage, to decimate families and ravage hamlets. The travellers crossed whole districts desolated by war and exactions of all sorts; the laws are powerless to repress disorders, a bribe suffices to exculpate one from the most odious crime; therefore every one speaks with admiration of Bokhara, whose emir is regarded as a model of justice and wisdom. An inhabitant of Audkuy acknowledged that his compatriots envied the happiness of being {401} subject to the sceptre of Mozaffar ed Din, and added that the Europeans would be preferable to the present Mussulman chiefs.

Meanwhile, the journey was long, and Vambery saw with anxiety his little package of merchandise diminish. He hoped to obtain a.s.sistance at Herat; but unfortunately, when they arrived in this city, the key of central Asia, it had just been put to sack by the Afghans. The fortifications and houses were only a heap of ruins, the citadel trembled, half demolished upon its crumbling base, some few inhabitants here and there showed themselves, the celebrated bazaar, which had stood so many sieges, alone offered some animation, but the shops were opened timidly, the remembrance of the foray still terrifying the people. Moreover, the custom-house system, established by the rapacity of the Afghans, promises little prosperity either to commerce or industry, an article of fur which has been purchased for 8 francs, pays 3 francs tax; they levy one franc upon a hat of the value of two francs, and so of every thing else. When we add to that, for articles brought from distant provinces, the rights already collected in intermediate districts, we see how much the merchant must raise his price in order to realize anything.

In a city so ravaged, the trade of a dervish is not lucrative; no one asked Vambery for his holy breathing, his cutlery and pearls were exhausted; his travelling companions, very different from Hadji Bilal, lent him no help. Only one young man named Ishak, remained faithful to him. Every morning he begged the food for the day, and prepared the frugal repasts of our traveller, whom he regarded as his master, and served with affectionate respect.

In order to neglect nothing which might enable him to continue his journey, Vambery resolved to apply to the Viceroy of Herat, Serdar Mehemmed Yakoub, the son of the King of Afghanistan. The halls of the palace were filled with servants and soldiers; but the large turban of the pretended dervish, and the hermit-like air which long fatigues had given him, were letters of recommendation which opened all doors. The prince, not more than sixteen years old, sate in a large easy chair, surrounded by high dignitaries. Vambery, faithful to his character, went directly to him, and sat by his side, pus.h.i.+ng aside the vizier to make himself a place. This behavior excited general hilarity. Serdar Mehemmed regarded the stranger attentively, then rose suddenly, and cried, half-laughing, half-bewildered: "You are an Englishman, I'll take my oath!" He approached our traveller, clapping his hands like a child who has made a happy discovery: "Say, say," added he, "are you not an Englishman?" In the presence of this innocent joy, Vambery had half a mind to discover himself, but remembering that the fanaticism of the Afghans might yet expose him to great perils, he resolved not to raise the mask which protected him. Taking, then, a serious air: "That will do," said he to the prince, "have you then forgotten this proverb--'He who even in joke treats a true believer as an infidel, makes himself worse than an infidel?' Give me rather something for my benediction, that I may have the means of pursuing my journey."

Vambery's look, and the maxim which he so appropriately recalled, put the young viceroy out of countenance. He stammered some excuses, alleging the singular physiognomy of the stranger, which was not of the Bokhariot type. Vambery hastened to reply that he was a native of Stamboul; he showed to Serdar Mehemmed and to the vizier his Turkish pa.s.sport, spoke of an Afghan prince residing in Constantinople, and succeeded in completely effacing the impression which he had at first made.

The 15th of November, 1868, the grand caravan which was going to Meshed, left Herat, taking with it our traveller. It comprised not less than two thousand persons, at least {402} half of whom were Afghans, who, in spite of the most frightful misery, had undertaken, with their families, a pilgrimage to the tombs of the s.h.i.+te saints.

In proportion as Vambery approached civilization, he let fall little by little the veil of his incognito, and let it be understood that in Meshed he should find powerful protectors, and financial resources which would enable him to recompense the services of his companions.

The doubtful light which surrounded him furnished inexhaustible matter for conjecture, and gave rise to some lively discussions, which very much amused Vambery. At last, twelve days after leaving Herat, the dome of the mosque, and the tomb of Iman-Riza, gilded by the first rays of the sun, announced the approach to Meshed. The sight caused the European deep emotion, his dangerous exploring expedition was finished, and he had no further need of disguise. In pa.s.sing the gates of the city he forgot the Turcoman, the desert, the Tebbad, to think of the happiness of seeing friendly faces, and of speaking at his ease of Europe. He pa.s.sed successively through Meshed, Teheran, and Constantinople, where he bade adieu to Oriental life; then through Pesth, where he left his Turcoman companion, the faithful Ishak, who had followed him even to Europe, and the 9th of June, 1864, he arrived in London.

Singular force of habit. Vambery had so identified himself with the character of a learned effendi, he was so impregnated with Asiatic manners and customs, that this son of Germany found himself ill at ease in England. "It cost me," says he, "incredible difficulty to accustom myself to my new life, so different from that which I had led at Bokhara some months previous. Everything in London seemed strange and novel; one would have said that the remembrances of my youth were a dream; only my travels had left upon my mind a deep impression. Is it astonis.h.i.+ng that sometimes in Regent street or in the saloons of the English aristocracy I felt myself as embarra.s.sed as a child, and that often I forgot everything around me to dream of the profound solitudes of central Asia, of the tents of the Kirghiz and the Turcomen?"

Vambery's book paints in vivid colors the real condition of central Asia; it contains curious and characteristic details regarding the three khanats of Turkestan (Khiva, Bokhara, and Khokand), on the particular manners of each people, the commerce and industry of the cities. We follow there the slow but continuous progress of the Russian government, whose ambition is excited by the riches of these fertile provinces. It advances with persevering obstinacy toward the conquest of Turkestan, the only country which is wanting to-day to the immense Asiatic kingdom dreamed of, four centuries ago, by Ivan Vasilievitch. Since that period the czars have never lost an opportunity to extend their influence in the Orient. Russia maintains with the khanats regular and active commercial relations; her exportations into central Asia were valued in 1850 at twenty-five millions of francs, and her importations from thence at not less than thirty-three millions. England, whose possessions in India approach Turkestan, has not taken so deep root there, she understands less the tastes, and submits less to the exigencies, of the Tartar populations.

At the same time, the protection which she gives the Afghans, the declared enemies of the Khivites and Bokhariots, gives her a part to play in the events which are preparing, and which the taking of Tashkend by Russian troops will perhaps precipitate.

Central Asia is destined to be absorbed by one or other of the rival powers which every day embrace her more closely. Will she be Russian or English? that is the only form the question takes to-day.

{403}

Persia and Turkey, tottering themselves, cannot protect her. The grand contest, commenced centuries ago, between the two hostile civilizations, between the sword of Mohammed and the cross of Christ, to-day touches its term. Of the different oriental tribes, these endeavor to revive themselves by the contact of our arts and sciences, those intrench themselves behind their mountains and their deserts; but these powerless barriers cannot hinder European activity from reaching them. They are, moreover, condemned to inevitable ruin by barbarism, superst.i.tion, and fatalism, which form the basis of their character and their creeds, the populations, bent under an implacable despotism, consider even the encroachments of Europeans as a benefit, their faith, moreover, delivers them without defence to misfortune, to tyranny, to the joke of the stranger, for it persuades them that an inflexible destiny, against which the will of man is powerless, rules the lot of individuals and nations. "Who can prevail agamst the Nasib?" said to Vambery an unfortunate man whose wife and children had been carried off. "It was written!" replied the Mussulmans when their most beautiful provinces were s.n.a.t.c.hed from them.

The European race, on the contrary, energetic and indefatigable, makes all obstacles yield before it; its science and industry transform nature into a docile instrument; difficulties stimulate its courage: "This sea I will cross," it cries; "I will level this mountain; this people, reputed invincible, I will subjugate." From antiquity it had raised upon its flag this proud device, which made the grandeur of the Roman world: "Audaces fortuna juvat." Afterward, Christianity, in elevating minds, and pouring upon all hearts sentiments of tenderness and charity heretofore unknown, brought new elements to this expansive force. It showed G.o.d respecting, even in their errors, the liberty of men; it showed the sacrifice of Jesus, this Son of the Most High come upon earth to suffer all griefs, yet voluntarily powerless to save man without his concurrence and his own partic.i.p.ation. This n.o.ble morality not only regenerated consciences, it developed individual action, made known the value of the hidden force which we call the will, and contributed largely to the social and political progress of the western nations. At the same time, it is true, the Christian dogma preached resignation in sufferings, but this pious resignation resembles as little the oriental indolence as the calm of death resembles that of strength and health.

Such are the causes of European supremacy. The Asiatics, not less gifted by nature, have stifled, under the double influence of fatalism and a sensual morality, the germs of civilization which might have given them a durable life and glory. To-day, as we learn from the intrepid traveller who has penetrated into the very heart of Turkestan and returned again safe and sound, everything among them is in decay; their cities and inst.i.tutions, alike, offer nothing but ruins.

{404}

From The Lamp,

UNCONVICTED; OR, OLD THORNELEY'S HEIRS.

CHAPTER I.

"Mr. Thorneley presents his compliments to Mr. John Kavanagh, and would feel obliged if he would call in Wimpole street this evening at seven o'clock. Mr. Thorneley wishes to have Mr. Kavanagh's professional a.s.sistance in a matter of business.

"100 Wimpole street, Cavendish Square, "Oct. 23, 185--"

The above note lay amidst a heap of letters awaiting my return from a pleasant mountaineering tour among alps and glaciers, perpetual snows, and ice-bound pa.s.ses. Yes, it had been in every sense of the word a delightful excursion, a real holiday to me,--me, a dusty, musty, hard-working lawyer, living in chambers, poring over parchments, and deeds, and matters dull and dry to all, save them whom those things concerned,--me, a middle-aged bachelor, a solitary man, with little of kith or kin left to surround my dying bed or follow my old bones to their grave. It was a renewal of youth and early days to climb those mountains, to face those majestic peaks, to scale those rugged pa.s.ses, and feel the fresh clear air fanning my brow as I raised it to G.o.d's heaven above, whilst all that was of the world worldly seemed to lie beneath my feet. My two months' holiday and repose from labor, when I packed my modest portmanteau, locked up my papers, left my rooms to the care of clerk and laundress, and took my ticket at London Bridge for Dover or Boulogne, bound for Chamouni, Unterwalden, or the Simplon,--these eight weeks of pure enjoyment were the oasis in the desert of my life. But now, for this year at least, it was over. I was back to busy life again; to work and daily duty; to my calf-bound volumes, my inky table, my yellow sheets inscribed with the promises of one said party to another said party--how soon to be broken, G.o.d only knew--or the blue folio pages stating how this said man is to bully that said fellow man, and how there is to be war between two Christian beings, not to the knife, but to the bar, the judge, jury, prison, and future ruin of one or the other fellow heir to the great inheritance of a hereafter. I had returned to it all--this turmoil of strife and struggle, out of which quagmire I got my daily bread, like hundreds of others cruising in the same barque on the sea of life; and my table was heaped with the business correspondence that once more was to induct me into my ordinary avocations. There were communications from old clients about affairs of long standing, and familiar to me as my morning shave; and letters from new clients promising fresh labor and new grist to the mill, but I scanned them all with the same feeling of weariness and disgust--casting many a regretful thought to the scenes I had left behind me,--inclined to throw business, law, and clients wholesale and pell-mell into the Red Sea. It was in this frame of mind that I opened the above note, but as I read it, my ennui and la.s.situde gave place to the keenest interest and curiosity. That old Thorneley should send for me professionally, when I knew for certain that all his affairs were completely in the hands, and he entirely under the thumbs, of my highly-respected brother lawyers Smith and Walker, was enough to rouse one from a mesmeric sleep. Old Thorneley; who {405} lived like a hermit, never meddling with anything nor anybody; whose last intentions were supposed amongst us in Lincoln's Inn to be hermetically sealed up in a certain tin box, lodging at Messrs. Smith and Walker's; whose frugal house-keeping and simple taste could involve him in no pecuniary trouble,--what could he want with the professional advice of one who was almost a stranger to him, whose standing in the law was of much later date and whose clientage much less distinguished than that of the firm above mentioned, and who had been his legal advisers during his whole lifetime?

Again I referred to the note--"Oct. 23;"--the interview was asked for that very evening I looked at my watch--it was half-past six, the hour named, seven. Tired with travel and hungry as a hunter, I was little inclined to leave my cosy fire, my tender steak, my fragrant cup of bohea, my delicious plate of b.u.t.tered toast, and face the raw air and mizzling rain of an autumnal evening at the beck of a man whose hand I had never shaken, at whose table I had never sat, and whose foot had never crossed my threshold. But curiosity and interest prevailed at last, and these were induced by two motives. 1. Thorneley was a millionaire--a man whose name Rothschild had not scorned on 'Change, and whose breath had once fluttered the money-markets of Europe. 2.

And a far more powerful one,--he was the uncle of Hugh Atherton. O Hugh, best of friends, thou man of true and n.o.ble heart, if these pages ever meet your eyes, and you look back through the dim vista of intervening years, bear witness how mournfully I stand by the grave of our buried affection, opened on this night, how tenderly I touch the fragments of our wrecked friends.h.i.+p! and from your heart, O lost comrade and brother, believe that, whatever of pain lay between us two, severing our lives, no thought disloyal to you ever crossed my soul or shook the fealty of my honor and reverence. Hastily I despatched the meal, made a few changes in my dress, threw myself into the first hansom, and knocked at 100 Wimpole street, at five minutes past seven.