TRAVELS
INTO
BOKHARA;
&c. &c.

VOL. II.

London:
Printed by A. Spottiswoode,
New-Street-Square.

TRAVELS
INTO
BOKHARA;
BEING THE ACCOUNT OF
A JOURNEY FROM INDIA TO CABOOL, TARTARY, AND PERSIA;

ALSO, NARRATIVE OF
A VOYAGE ON THE INDUS,
FROM THE SEA TO LAHORE,
WITH PRESENTS FROM THE KING OF GREAT BRITAIN;
PERFORMED UNDER THE ORDERS OF THE SUPREME GOVERNMENT OF INDIA, IN THE YEARS 1831, 1832, AND 1833.

BY
LIEUT. ALEX^R BURNES, F.R.S.
OF THE EAST INDIA COMPANY’S SERVICE;
AS^T POLITICAL RESIDENT IN CUTCH, AND LATE ON A MISSION TO THE COURT OF LAHORE.

----“Per syrtes iter æstuosas,

... per inhospitalem

Caucasum, vel quæ loca fabulosus

Lambit Hydaspes.”

Hor.

IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
MDCCCXXXIV.

CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.

BOOK I.

GENERAL AND GEOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR ON PART OF CENTRAL ASIA.

BOOK II.

AN HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE COUNTRIES BETWEEN INDIA AND THE CASPIAN SEA.

BOOK III.

ON THE COMMERCE OF CENTRAL ASIA.

NARRATIVE.

CHAPTER XII.
JOURNEY IN THE DESERT OF THE TOORKMUNS.

Journey to the Oxus.

At midday, on the 16th of August, we commenced our march on the Oxus, which was about twenty-seven miles distant. After journeying for ten miles, we halted in the evening at a small village, and set out at midnight for the river, under a bright moon. Sand hills. For a great part of the night our route led us among vast fields of soft sand, formed into ridges which exactly resembled, in colour and appearance, those on the verge of the ocean. The belt of these sand-hills, which lie between Bokhara and the Oxus, varies in breadth from twelve to fifteen miles. They were utterly destitute of vegetation. There was a remarkable uniformity in their formation; the whole of them preserved the shape and form of a horse-shoe, the outer rim presenting itself to the north, the direction from which the winds of this country blow. On this side the mounds sloped, while the interior of the figure was invariably precipitous; but loose sand will ever take its position from the prevailing winds. None of the hills exceeded the height of fifteen or twenty feet, and they all rested on a hard base. The wind was high, and the particles of sand moved from one mound to another, wheeling in the eddy or interior of the semicircle, and having now and then, particularly under the rays of the sun, much the look of water; an appearance, I imagine, which has given rise to the opinion of moving sands in a desert. The thermometer, which had risen to 100°, fell at night to 70° among the sand-hills; and I have always observed that the vicissitudes of cold and heat are greatest among sand. About an hour after the sun had risen, we exchanged this dreary route for verdant fields, irrigated by the Oxus; and, after winding among them for about four miles, encamped on the verge of the river, where we hid ourselves from the sun’s rays under the panniers of our camels.

Freezing of the Oxus.

We had come down upon the Oxus at Betik, which is opposite to Charjooee, and one of the greatest ferries between Persia and Toorkistan. There was, therefore, every facility for crossing, and the beasts and baggage were thrown into boats, and soon transported to the opposite bank. The farmer of the customs killed his sheep, and invited most of the merchants to partake of his fare. He enquired very particularly regarding us, and requested a sight of our passport. He then waited on us in person with a couple of melons and some cakes, which we sat down and enjoyed along with him and his party on the banks of the river, and, I believe, mutually amused each other. This individual mentioned, in the course of conversation, that the Oxus had been last year frozen over from shore to shore, and that the caravans passed it on the ice. This is rather an unfrequent occurrence, and gave rise to a grave point of discussion and decision for the Mahommedan doctors. The farmer had agreed to pay 100 tillas a month, as the rent of his ferry; but since the river was passable on the ice, his boats were useless, and he lost by the farm. He proceeded to Bokhara, and urged his case to the king, requesting at the same time his royal sanction to levy a tax on the travellers. “That is impossible,” said his majesty and his advisers, “unless the farmer consents to become answerable for the blood-money of any person who may fall through the ice and perish.” The learned reply of the king is applauded for its wisdom, and met with the approbation of every person but the farmer himself, who had to pay the full amount of his contract. I will observe, first, that, as the contractor is not answerable for the lives of passengers in his boat, he could not be answerable for them on the ice. Secondly, that, since he contracted with the king for the twelve months, he should either have been relieved from payment during the time of the freezing of the river, or, at all events, allowed to levy a toll on the passengers. The law, however, is fruitful of interpretation in every country; and the King of Bokhara, while he protected his treasury from loss, had likewise the credit of appearing solicitous about the lives of the faithful.

Meanness of native traders.

As we were preparing to embark, I had an example of the meanness of native traders, of which I have had before and since many concurring proofs. Our boat had no horses to drag it across, and it was proposed that we should hire them; to which I gave a ready assent, saying, that we should be happy to contribute our share of the expense. The reply was unsatisfactory, since they wished we should bear it all; but this was peremptorily refused, and we embarked without the horses, though the share of each person would not have amounted to a quarter of a rupee, and one of the merchants possessed goods that were valued at 3000 tillas. From terror, they were not so sparing of the name of the Deity, while on the water, as, on land, they had been of their money; but these invocations cost them nothing, and the horses would have reduced their profits. The merchants of this country have none of the liberal notions of the same class of people in Europe; and I am disposed to attribute it to their superintending in person the sale of their goods, and witnessing every outlay which is incurred on their account. We crossed the Oxus in safety, without horses; and I did not regret the opportunity that had presented itself; to show our fellow-voyagers that we were as poor in our purses as in our dress and condition. One individual, a Persian, actually sickened at the thought of crossing the Jihoon without horses, and transferred himself to another boat with oars, where he gave the sailors the bribe of a rupee to row him speedily across. He arrived, with a pale face, to receive our congratulations on his bravery; but this individual turned out, in the end, one of our best friends.

The Oxus.

We found the stream of the Oxus with a breadth of 650 yards, and in some places 25 and 29 feet deep; so that it was both narrower and deeper than at the point at which we had before crossed it. Its banks were much depressed, and completely overgrown with a rank weed, which chokes the aqueducts. Some fish of an enormous size, weighing from five to six hundred pounds, are procured in this river, a kind of dog-fish, which are used as food by the Uzbeks. Across the Oxus, we found ourselves about six miles distant from the town of Charjooee, which was in sight. For the first time, this noble river was turned to the purposes of navigation, since there is a commercial communication kept up, by means of it, between that place and Orgunje.

Oxus of Alexander’s historians.

The Oxus is particularly mentioned under that name by the historians of Alexander, though it appears to have been ever unknown by such a title to the Asiatics, who call it Jihoon and Amoo. We learn from the ancient authors, that Alexander approached this river from Bactra, or Balkh, by a country “which exhaled the power of a summer sun, and torrefied the sands.” The distance between Bactra and the river is even correctly stated at 400 stadia, and we have no fables regarding the breadth of the river. Arrian, who follows Aristobulus, tells us that the Oxus was six furlongs broad, and in that part of its course we have described it with a magnitude of 828 yards. The very topography of the river’s bank may, I almost think, be traced in Curtius; for there are low and peaked hillocks near that pass of the Oxus; and we are told that Alexander caused fires to be lit on the high ground, “that the distressed in the rear might perceive they were not far from camp.” There are no hillocks below Kilef. Curtius tells us that the Oxus was a muddy river, that bore much slime along with it; and I found that one fortieth of the stream is clay suspended in the water. What an approximation to the name of Maricanda in the modern city of Samarcand. It is described as being seventy stadia in circumference; and we have seen that modern Bokhara exceeds eight English miles, or about sixty-four of the Grecian stadia. What an outline have we not of the character of these nations in remote ages. “They exercised robbery, and lived by spoil.” These are the literal words of the historian; and they explain to us the genuine manners of the people, be they Hun, Scythian, Goth, Tatar, Toork, or Toorkmun. Lower down the river, we have the name of the country ruled by Pharsamanes, which is called Chorasmi, and in which the kingdom of Kharasm, subverted by Jengis, is easily recognised. Higher up, we have a description of Parætacæ, which was a mountainous region, as we learn from the mention of fir trees, and the formidable “rock of Chorienes.” This is the hill country of Karatageen, as we discover from the similarity of its name and position. In Zeriaspes, we have, I think, Shuhr Subz; and I could continue to multiply the coincidences, but I doubt if the subject would excite general interest.

Charjooee:

In the morning we moved up to Charjooee, which in all our maps is erroneously set down on the northern bank of the Oxus. The place is governed by a Kalmuk, and is pleasantly situated on the verge of culture and desolation, with a pretty fort that crowns a hillock, and overlooks the town. It is said to have resisted the arms of Timour; but its present condition would not impress one with any great notions of its strength, or that conqueror’s power. The people of Charjooee do not exceed 4000 or 5000 souls; but a great portion of its population wander up and down the Oxus during the hot months. We halted here for four days, since it was the last inhabited spot of civilisation between Bokhara and Persia. its bazar. The market day, or bazar, occurred during our stay; and I proceeded along with Ernuzzar, the Toorkmun, to see the assemblage, in which I passed quite unnoticed. I sauntered through the bazar, much more amused with the people than the wares they were selling, which were in every respect poor. There were knives, saddles and bridles, cloth, and horsecloths, of native manufacture: but the only articles of European fabric were a few beads, and chintz scullcaps, which latter were purchased very readily. There were also lanterns, ewers, and copper pots, in considerable number; and the venders of many of these retailed their goods on horseback, and all the purchasers were mounted. No person ever attends the bazar in Toorkistan but on horseback; and on the present occasion there was not a female to be seen, veiled or unveiled. Most of the people were Toorkmuns of the Oxus, dressed in high sheepskin caps, like the natives of Orgunje. There were about 2000 or 3000 people in the bazar; but there was very little bustle and confusion, though there was much both of buying and selling. The custom of having market days is uncommon in India and Cabool, but of universal use in Toorkistan: it perhaps gives a stimulus to trade, and is most convenient; since all the people of the country, for miles round, assemble on the occasion. Every person seems to think it incumbent upon him to be present. The different articles are arranged in separate parts of the bazar, with as much regularity as in Bokhara itself: here you may buy grain, there fruit: here is meat, there is cloth, &c. The streets are so narrow, that the bazar is generally held at one end of the country towns; and such was the case at Charjooee: so that fruit, grain, or any thing which requires to be displayed, is spread out on the ground. The bazar lasts from eleven to four o’clock, which is the hottest time of the day.

The desert.

The wants of all had been supplied during our stay at Charjooee; every one was ready to move, and every skin, pot, and pitcher was filled to the brim, from the canals of the Oxus. At noon on the 22d we commenced our march, and, before we had travelled a distance of two miles, entered upon the great desert which separates the kingdoms of Iran and Tooran. The mode of travelling in Toorkistan is to start at midday, and march till sunset; and, after a couple of hours’ rest and the indispensable cup of tea, to resume the task, and advance to the stage, which is usually reached at daylight. We made the usual evening halt, and then travelled till sunrise, when we reached Karoul, a well of brackish water, thirty feet under ground, and lined with branches of trees, at which we halted, a distance of twenty-two miles from Charjooee. The whole tract presented to our view was a dreary waste of sand-hills, but by no means so destitute of vegetation and underwood as on the northern bank of the Oxus. They, however, occurred in the same succession and formation as have been there described: they were quite soft, but the sand was not dusty, and the camels slid down them with their burthens. Here and there we came upon a sheet of indurated clay, as if the sand-hills here also rested on a base of that kind. In these hollows, and on the brow of the hills, we found a shrub like tamarisk, called “kasura,” also a kind of grass, or bent, called “salun.” There were likewise two thorny shrubs, called “kuzzak” and “karaghan”[1], neither of them the common camel thorn, but on which the camels delighted to browse. There was no water throughout the whole march, and no signs of inhabitants but a ruined fort, that had once served as a look-out from the Oxus. The Indian deserts of Jaysulmeer and Parkur sank into insignificance before this vast ocean of sand. No sight is more imposing than a desert; and the eye rests with a deep interest on the long line of camels, as it winds its crooked course through the frightful waste. The simile of a ship in the ocean and a camel in the desert may be hackneyed, but it is just. The objects animate impart a strong interest to inanimate nature.

Slaves.

In the middle of our march through the desert, we met seven unfortunate Persians, who had been captured by the Toorkmuns, and were now on their road to Bokhara, where they would be sold. Five of them were chained together, and trod their way through the deep sand. There was a general shout of compassion, as the caravan passed these miserable beings; and the sympathy did not fail to affect the poor creatures themselves. They cried, and gave a longing look, as the last camel of the caravan passed to their dear native country. The camel on which I rode happened to be in the rear, and I stayed to hear their tale of woe. They had been seized by the Toorkmuns at Ghaeen, near Meshid, a few weeks before, when the culture of their fields had led them beyond the threshold of their homes. They were weary and thirsty, and I gave them all I could,—a single melon; a civility, little as it was, which was received with gratitude. What a frightful notion must not these unfortunate beings have entertained of the country they were entering, after their travels in such a desert. The Toorkmuns evince but little compassion for their Persian slaves; and what other treatment is to be expected from men who pass their lives in selling human beings. They give them but a scanty supply of food and water, that they may waste their strength, and prevent their escape; but beyond this the Toorkmun inflicts no other ills. The tales which have been circulated of their cutting the sinew of the heel, and of their passing a cord round the collar bone, are at variance with truth, since these blemishes would diminish the value of the slave. These unfortunate captives suffer a much heavier calamity,—they lose their liberty.

The caravan.

As we reached our halting-ground in the morning, we had now an opportunity of observing the number and composition of the caravan. There were upwards of eighty camels, and about 150 persons, several of them men of the first respectability, who accompanied their merchandise to the markets of Persia. Some travelled in panniers placed on camels; others rode, some on horses, many on donkeys; but every person, even the meanest, had some kind of conveyance. The horsemen preceded the camels; and, stretching themselves out on the sand with their bridles in their grasp, stole a few moments’ sleep, till the caravan overtook them. The scene was altogether curious and novel. Among the party there were eight or ten Persians, who had passed many years of slavery in Toorkistan, and, after purchasing their liberty, were now returning by stealth to their homes. These people were delighted with our enquiries; and, in the journey, many of them became attached to us. They would bring melons for us; kill a sheep; draw water; and were always at hand. Some of them had been no less than three times captured, and as often had they redeemed themselves; for the Uzbeks are readily imposed upon and cheated by their slaves, who make money in service. I conversed with several of them; and it was equally painful to hear their past sufferings and present anxiety. Their influential countrymen in the caravan had put several of them in charge of a portion of their merchandise, that they might be the less noticed, and considered rather as traders than emancipated slaves; for a Persian merchant in a caravan is generally safe. In spite of all this arrangement, some hard-hearted wretches had told tales on the banks of the Oxus: one individual had been forced to return to Bokhara; and some of the others had crossed with difficulty. One single hint to the people of Orgunje would, in all probability, yet arrest their further progress; but every one had been well tutored. What must be the feelings of some of these men as they approach Persia. One of them told me that he had had a wife and a numerous family when sold into captivity, twenty-two years before; of whom he had not heard any account since that period. If any of them are alive, the parent will show himself among them as an apparition from the tomb. Another of these unfortunate individuals had a tale which was not less touching. He had been seized along with his family, and, indeed, all the inhabitants of his village, near Toorshish; and delivered up, by one of the Khorasan chiefs, to the Toorkmuns, who drove, on this occasion, upwards of a hundred people to Bokhara. At Maimunu, which is on the road, they were disposed of to other Toorkmuns, and at Bokhara finally sold. There this unfortunate man saw his wife sold to one, his daughter and son to others, and himself to a different person. A humane man, hearing of his misfortunes, released him, since he believed it good in the sight of God; and the poor fellow lurked in Bokhara, like a bird near its nest that is robbed, in hopes of relieving the other members of his family. He had failed, and was now travelling into his own country, to excite the compassion and pity of those who had known him in his prosperity. It would harrow up a man’s heart, to listen to all the tales of the woe which is inflicted upon mankind by these plundering Toorkmuns.

Well of Balghooee.

In marching from Karoul, we quitted the high road of the caravans, which leads to Merve, and proceeded westward into the desert, by a way that is altogether unfrequented. We had no option in the selection of such a route, since the officer who commands the Orgunje army sent a messenger to direct our march upon his camp. We were thus thrown into the jaws of the lion, but were helpless; and the merchants appeared to regret it more than ourselves. After the usual halt, we reached the well of Balghooee twenty-four miles distant, on the morning of the 23d. It was a small and single well, about four feet in diameter, as deep as that at Karoul; and the Toorkmuns only discovered it after a zigzag search of some hours. We soon emptied it (for the water was good), and had to wait a night till it again filled.

The desert.

In this march the desert was overgrown with brushwood, but the tract was entirely destitute of water; and a few rats, lizards, and beetles, with here and there a solitary bird, were its only inhabitants. Some of the sand-hills now attained the height of sixty feet: but at that elevation they are invariably bare of all vegetation; which, I suppose, cannot thrive in such an exposed situation. The highest hills were about a distance of eight miles from the halting-place, and named “sheer i shootr,” or “the camel’s milk,” from some allusion to that useful animal. There was nothing peculiar in the colour of the sand, which was quartzose. There was no turf, grass, or creeping plants; every shrub grew separately; and the grass, which I before mentioned, was only to be found in clumps. The heat of the sand rose to 150°: and that of the atmosphere exceeded 100°, but the wind blew steadily; nor do I believe it would be possible to traverse this tract in summer, if it ceased to blow: the steady manner in which it comes from one direction is remarkable in this inland country. It is true, that in every direction except the north we have mountains, but they are too distant to impede the winds. Our caravan advanced at a firm and equal pace among the sand; nor can I discover that the progress of a camel is much impeded in the desert. They moved at the rate of two miles and one eighth in the hour (3740 yards); and I have since found, that the judicious Volney assigns the distance of 3600 yards as the hourly journey of a camel in the sands of Egypt and Syria.

Dangers of the desert.

We had before heard of the deserts south of the Oxus; and had now the means of forming a judgment from personal observation. We saw the skeletons of camels and horses now bleaching in the sun, which had perished from thirst. The nature of the roads or pathways admits of their easy obliteration; and, if the beaten track be once forsaken, the traveller and his jaded animal generally perish. A circumstance of this very nature occurred but a few days previous to our leaving Charjooee. A party of three persons travelling from the Orgunje camp lost the road, and their supply of water failed them. Two of their horses sank under the parching thirst; and the unfortunate men opened the vein of their surviving camel, sucked its blood, and reached Charjooee from the nourishment which they thus derived. The camel died. These are facts of frequent occurrence. The Khan of Orgunje, in his late march into the desert, lost upwards of two thousand camels, that had been loaded with water and provisions for his men. He dug his wells as he advanced; but the supply of water was scanty. Camels are very patient under thirst: it is a vulgar error, however, to believe that they can live any length of time without water. They generally pine, and die on the fourth day, and, under great heat, will even sink sooner.

Seerab.

After a day’s detention to rest the camels, we marched at sunrise, and continued our progress, with a short halt, till the same time next day. We journied thirty-five miles, and alighted at a fetid well called Seerab; and from well to well we had no water. We appeared to have lost the great sand hills in our advance westward. The desert, though it had the same features as before, now presented an undulating and uneven country of sand, partially covered with shrubs. The soil was salt in some places; but the water of the well was good enough after it was some time drawn. Our Toorkmun Sirdar made his appearance shortly after our arrival, to claim his cup of tea; and never was a schoolboy more fond of sugar than this hoary-headed Toorkmun. I used to give it to him to have the pleasure of seeing him grind it, though some of the merchants wondered at our wasting it on such a person. I always felt the happier in the company of this man, for I looked upon him as the only bond between us and the barbarians we were to encounter. He used also to tell us the news of the caravan, and all the particulars of the country, which he even knew that we noted down. Ernuzzer did not deceive us, and the tea and the sugar which he consumed, were but a small tax for his service. In return for these favours, he promised to give me a bonne bouche, Camel’s milk. when we reached the first camp of the Toorkmuns; and when I expected nothing else than “kimmiz” or “boozu,” mare’s milk or fermented liquor, he brought me camel’s milk, which is the only drink of the Toorkmuns. The milk is mixed with water, and the cream is then drawn off. It is called “chal,” and has a salt, bitter taste. The thinner part of the milk is considered a grateful draught by the people, but to me it tasted sour and acrid. I believed that the Uzbeks and Toorkmuns drank mare’s milk and fermented liquors; but these are unknown in Bokhara, and only peculiar to the Kuzzaks and Kirgizzes, between that city and Russia.

An Eastern caravan.

A caravan is a complete republic; but I do not believe that most republics are so orderly. Of our eighty camels every three or four belonged to different individuals; and there were four Cafila-bashees. Still there was no disputing about the arrangement or order of the march; and it is a point of honour, that the one shall at all times wait for the other. If a single camel throws its load, the whole line halts till it is replaced; and one feels pleased at such universal sympathy. These feelings make it agreeable to travel in a caravan, for the detentions are much fewer than would really be imagined. The more I mingled with Asiatics in their own sphere, and judged them by their own standard, I imbibed more favourable impressions regarding them. One does not see in civilised Europe that generous feeling, which induces the natives of Asia, great and small, to share with each other every mouthful that they possess. Among Mahommedans we have no distinction of gentleman and villain,—at least, so far as hospitality is concerned. The khan fares as simply as the peasant; and never offers to raise a morsel to his lips till he has shared it with those near him. I myself frequently have been partaker of this bounty from rich and poor, for nothing is enjoyed without society. How different is the feeling that besets the sots of lower society in Britain! Nor is this good fellowship among the Asiatics confined to the travelled merchant: it is to be found in the towns as well as the country. It is a pity that civilisation, with all its advantages, does not retain for us these virtues. Barbarians are hospitable, civilised men are polite; but hospitality added to politeness makes it more acceptable. A caravan is an interesting scene at all times; and the shifts of the pious to prevent its detention in the Toorkmun desert were not unworthy of notice. The line was too extended to sound a general halt for prayers; and at the appointed time, each individual was to be seen on the back of his camel or in his pannier, performing his orisons before the Deity, in the best manner which he could accomplish them. The laws of the Prophet admit of a true believer being cleansed by sand, where there is no water; and the back of a horse or a camel is as legitimate a position for prayer, as the most splendid mosque of a city. The busy scene on our reaching the halting-ground in the evening, was both lively and entertaining. The Uzbeks, like ourselves, do not water their horses when they are warm: in this journey, we had no sooner arrived than we again took our departure, the horses were therefore permitted to quench their thirst; and to prevent any evil effects from the water, the animal was immediately mounted and galloped at speed over hill and dale, for miles. This brought the water, as the Uzbeks would tell you, to the heated temperature of the animal’s body. The easy carriage of some of the cavaliers, and the light saddles which they rode,—some of them little larger than racing saddles,—imparted an interest to these scampering freaks which was most exciting.

Oochghooee and the wandering Toorkmuns.

Our next march brought us at midnight to Oochghooee, or the Three Wells, which we had great difficulty in finding. We wandered to the right and to the left, and the Toorkmuns dismounted in the dark, and felt for the pathway with their hands among the sand. We had almost despaired of recovering it, and were preparing for our bivouac, when the bark of a dog, and a distant answer to our repeated calls dispelled our anxiety, and we were soon encamped at the well. We here found a few wandering Toorkmuns, the first we had seen since leaving the Oxus. The well was bitter; but these shepherds seem indifferent to the quality of the water. The country continued to change still further as we advanced, becoming more flat and free from sand, but still running in alternate ridges and hollows. In these we discovered some small red sharp-edged pebbles, not unlike iron pyrites; nor did the wells which were dug in them, yet exceed the depth of thirty feet: in the Indian desert they are 300. The Toorkmuns rallied round us next morning, and we had the freest intercourse with them; for they were quite ignorant of our character, and the presence of one of their own tribe, our Toorkmun Ernuzzer, proved a sufficient attraction to these “children of the desert.” They spoke of the piercing cold of the winters in this country; and assured us that the snow sometimes lay a foot deep. We ourselves had experienced a depression of ten degrees in the temperature since leaving the Oxus.

Ruins of castles. Moorghab.

We were now informed that we were approaching the camp of the Khan of Orgunje, which, it appears, was on the banks of the Moorghab, or Merve river, considerably below the place of that name, and about thirty miles distant from us. We set out at noon, and by the time the sun had set, found ourselves among the ruins of forts and villages, now deserted, which rose in castellated groups over an extensive plain. I have observed that we had been gradually emerging from the sand-hills; and these marks of human industry, which we had now approached, were the ancient remnants of civilisation of the famous kingdom of Merve, or, as our historians have erroneously called it, Meroo. Before we had approached them, we had not wanted signs of our being delivered from the ocean of sand, since several flocks of birds had passed over us. As the mariner is assured by such indications that he nears land, we had the satisfaction of knowing that we were approaching the water, after a journey of 150 miles through a sterile waste, where we had suffered considerable inconvenience from the want of it. We were not yet within the pale of habitations; but after a cool and pleasant march, over a perfectly flat and hard plain, every where interspersed with forts and ruins, we found ourselves, about nine in the following morning, at a large Toorkmun camp, (or, as it is called, an Oba,) near the banks of the Moorghab. The name of the place was Khwaju Abdoolla, and the whole colony sallied forth to meet the caravan. We took up a position on a hillock about two or three hundred yards distant; and the merchants instructed us to huddle together among themselves, and appear lowly and humble. We did so, and the Toorkmuns of the encampment soon crowded around us, begging for tobacco, for which they brought loads of the most luscious melons, that we cut up, and enjoyed in the company of camel drivers and slaves, braving the sun, though I cannot say to the detriment of our already sun-burned complexions. It now was discovered that the Orgunje camp lay on the other side of the river, which was not fordable but in certain places; and the merchants decided that they themselves, with all the Cafila-bashees, should forthwith proceed in person to the spot, and use their utmost to conciliate the officer in charge, for the Khan had returned within these few days to Khiva. Their great object seemed to be to effect a discharge of the duties in the spot where they were now encamped, since no one relished trusting their property within reach of an Orgunje detachment. If the party prayed for success, I can add that we were equally fervent, and the deputation set out accordingly with the good wishes of every one. We were left among the “oi polloi” of the caravan; and when night came, stretched our felts under a clear and cloudless sky, and slept without fear or anxiety from our man-selling neighbours. This state of security among such people and countries is very remarkable; but a Toorkmun, though he can engage in a foray, and execute it with unexampled address, cannot commit a theft in a quiet way, which is not congenial to his nature.

Remarks on the desert.

I have now a little leisure to speak of the desert which we had traversed on our route to the Moorghab. In a military point of view, the scarcity of water is a great obstacle. In some places the wells were thirty-six miles apart; and, generally, the water was both bitter and scanty. The water which we had transported with us from the Oxus was not less nauseous than that of the desert; for it must be carried in skins, and these must be oiled to preserve them from bursting. The grease mixes with the water, which latterly became so tainted that the horses even refused to drink it. There is nothing of which we feel the want so much as good water. In the march, several people of the caravan, particularly the camel-drivers, were attacked with inflammation of the eyes; I suppose, from the sand, glare, and dust. With such an enumeration of petty vexations and physical obstacles, it is dubious if an army could cross it at this point. The heavy sandy pathways, for there are no roads, might certainly be rendered passable to guns, by placing brushwood on the sand; but there is a great scarcity of grass for cattle, and the few horses which accompanied the caravan, were jaded and worn out before they reached the river. A horse which travels with a camel, has great injustice done to him; but an army could not outstrip the motions of a caravan, and fatigues would still fall heavily upon them. History tells us, that many armies have fought in and crossed this desert; but they consisted of hordes of light cavalry, that could move with rapidity. It is to be remembered, that we had not a foot-passenger in our party. Light horse might pass such a desert, by divisions, and separate routes; for besides the high road to Merve, there is a road both to the east and the west. It would, at all times, be a difficult task for a great body of men to pass from the Moorghab to the Oxus, since our caravan, of eighty camels, emptied the wells; and it would be easy to hide, or even fill up these scanty reservoirs. Where water lies within thirty feet of the surface, an energetic commander may remedy his wants, since we have an instance of it in the advance of the Orgunje Khan to the banks of the Moorghab. But after I have written, and, perhaps, diffusely, on the passage of such a desert, I may ask myself, who seeks to cross it, and in the line of what invader it lies? It is not in the route between India and Europe; and if the descendants of the Scythians and Parthians wish to invade and tyrannize over each other, they may do so without, perhaps, exciting even the notice of the “fierce Britons.”

A Toorkmun camp.

The Toorkmun camp, or “oba,” at which we halted, presented to us a scene of great novelty. It consisted of about 150 conical moveable huts, called “khirgahs,” which were perched on a rising ground. There was no order in the distribution, and they stood like so many gigantic beehives, which, if they had not had black roofs, might not be a bad comparison; and we might also take the children as the bees, for they were very numerous. I wondered at the collection of so many rising plunderers. Seeing the Toorkmuns in a body, it may be certainly distinguished, that they have something Tatar in their appearance; their eyes are small, and the eyelids appear swollen. They are a handsome race of people. All of them were dressed in the “tilpak,” a square or conical black cap of sheep-skin, about a foot high, which is far more becoming than a turban, and gives to a party of Toorkmuns the appearance of a soldierlike and disciplined body. The Toorkmuns are remarkably fond of bright-coloured clothes, and choose the lightest shades of red, green, and yellow, as the patterns of their flowing “chupkuns,” or pelisses. They sauntered about their encampment in a great state of listlessness; and what have they to do but to live on the proceeds of their last foray? They have but few fields, and one or two individuals may tend their countless flocks at pasture. Their dogs, indeed, perform this office for them. These animals are very docile, but ferocious to a stranger: they are shaggy, appearing to be of the mastiff breed, and bear a high price even among these people. The martial habits of the Toorkmuns appeared in my eyes the more striking, as they had cleared the circle of their encampment of brushwood for about a mile round. It had, I believe, been cut for firewood; but the resemblance to an esplanade, or a parade ground, was none the less on that account. In my notice of the Toorkmuns, I must not now forget the ladies, whose head-dress would do honour to the galaxy of an English ball-room. It consists of a lofty white turban, shaped like a military chako, but higher, over which a red or white scarf is thrown, that falls down to the waist. Some of these Toorkmun females were fair and handsome, adorning themselves with a variety of ornaments, that were attached to their hair, which hangs in tresses over their shoulders. Their head-dress is, perhaps, a little large, but they themselves are generally on a large scale, and as they never veil it becomes them. The other part of their costume is a long gown that reaches to the ancle, and hides both it and the waist, the very standard points of beauty in our country; but so it is, that nations remote from each other differ not more in language and laws than in taste and manners.

Orgunje officers.

The party which had proceeded to the Orgunje camp, returned next morning with the deputy of the Yooz-bashee, or the Commander of an Hundred, and his very appearance made the hearts of the merchants thrill with fear. No taxes had been collected before this, and every thing was uncertain. The deputy was an elderly man, with a large “tilpak” stuck on his head, like a regimental cap. He was accompanied by a party of desert Toorkmuns, among whom was a chief, or “aksukal,” (literally, a white beard,) of the great tribe of Saruk. The merchants seated the deputation in the place of honour, addressed the deputy as he had been the Yooz-bashee himself, refreshed him with tea and tobacco (for they now smoked in public), and presented him with silks, cloths, raisins, and sugar, and then proceeded to display their merchandize. Every person made an offering, and we sent two handfuls of raisins and a bit of sugar as our homage. We sat at a short distance in our panniers, and witnessed the whole scene. The Yooz-bashee, as I also must call him, now spoke out to all the members of the caravan, and in the most candid language, said, that he had been directed to levy the lawful tax of one in forty, but that he would dispense with opening the bales. Truth, said he, had better be told; for, if I have reason to doubt any of you, I will then examine them, and you will experience the wrath of the Khan of Orgunje, my lord and master. This speech was listened to with terror; some, I believe, actually said that they had more goods than they really possessed; and, as far as I could judge, no one deviated from the truth. Pen and ink were called for, and the congress proceeded to make a list of the merchandize, which was no easy matter.

Precarious situation.

While the merchants were disputing about tillas, and flattering the Yooz-bashee, we had taken up a quiet position, and even pretended to be wrapped in sleep. I never was more awake in my life, and was near enough to hear and see every thing. There were several questions put regarding us, and the principal merchants spoke with earnestness and kindness. We had never instructed them, but they now chose to denominate us Hindoos from Cabool, who were proceeding on a pilgrimage to the flames of Bakoo, on the Caspian. We had been successively Englishmen, Afghans, Uzbeks, Armenians, and Jews, and they now denominated us Hindoos. These people are very simple; nor do they ever interrogate closely. Shortly after the subject of our character and objects had been discussed, the Toorkmun Aksukal rose from the party, and most unwelcomely seated himself by us. “Aksukal,” as I have said, means white beard, though this personage had a black enough plumage to his chin: he wore a splendid scarlet pelisse, and never did our national uniform appear to me more formidable than on his person; for he might have proved himself “a very Tartar” under his British colours. He spoke a little Persian, and said, “You are from Cabool?” to which I gave a nod of assent. The Doctor stretched himself back in his panier, and our visitor addressed himself to an Afghan, one of our people, of which I was glad, since it would keep up the illusion. It is said that the natives of Orgunje are, of all the tribes in Toorkistan, most hostile to Europeans, as well from their vicinity to Russia, as their knowledge that the Persians, who threaten their country, are assisted by them. They of course know nothing of the different nations of Europe, and look upon all Europeans as their enemies. I was not sorry when the Toorkmun chief selected another group, and that this patriarchal “white beard” had made no discovery, even after seeing us, and entering into conversation. The whole scene appeared to me a perfect riddle, for we ourselves had mixed with the Toorkmuns of our party as Europeans; and our real character was known to every individual of the caravan. Fear may have prevented some of them from making a full disclosure, but it was very creditable; since I have reason to believe that the people of the Orgunje Khan would not have willingly extended their favour towards us. We, however, had one instance of bad feeling, in a quarter where we least of all looked for it, at the hands of our Cafila-bashee. He required money to pay the just taxes on goods, which he had at the outset hoped to smuggle, and though all settlement had been made between us, and he had nearly received the full hire of his camels, he sent in the middle of the confusion to say, that the caravan would be detained on our account, if we did not lend him some tillas. What a moment, and what a trial for the temper. It was useless to complain of ungenerous treatment, and it would have been worse to show that we felt it. I considered a couple of tillas enough to give the wretch, though we had provided ourselves with some three hundred of them, which I knew might befriend us, where men are sold and bought like sheep. Evening advanced, and our transactions with the Orgunje Yooz-bashee drew to a close. The commander of a hundred carried off two hundred golden tillas, and all the merchants accompanied him to his horse, and saw him beyond the limits of our camp. Such is the dread of authority, and the power of the meanest man who wears it. In the dusk the merchants came to visit us, and to relate the affairs of the day over a cup of tea. We had to thank an Uzbek, named Ullahdad, and Abdool, a Persian; but we had to make some acknowledgment to all, for we had now become intimate with every body. Whenever the horsemen of the caravan passed us on the road, they would shout out to us, “Ah, Meerza! how are you?” with all the consecutive compliments of their language. Little did many of them know, that the name of “Meerza Sikunder,” or the secretary Alexander, which they had given me, was so well merited; since I took every opportunity that I secretly could to use the pen and ink, and give a secretary’s account of all their proceedings. On this day I felt pleased with mankind, for we were now free to prosecute our journey. The Bokharees assured me that they were interested in our favour, from the commands of their minister the Koosh Begee; and the Persians, of whom there were many in the caravan, dreaded the friendship between Abbas Meerza and the English. Individually, I did not presume to believe that either of these great personages bestowed much care upon us, but it was pleasant to know that such were the opinions of our companions.

CHAP. XIII.
CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNEY IN THE TOORKMUN DESERT.

River of Merve.

On the morning of the 29th of August we moved at dawn, with buoyant spirits, and followed the course of the Moorghab, or river of Merve, for twelve miles before we could cross it. We found it about eighty yards wide and five feet deep, running within steep clayey banks, at the rate of five miles an hour. We crossed by an indifferent ford, over a clay bottom with many holes. There was no village; but the place is called Uleesha. This river rises on the mountains of Huzara, and was long believed to fall into the Oxus or the Caspian. Both opinions are erroneous, since it forms a lake, or loses itself in one, about fifty miles N.W. of Merve. This river was formerly dammed above Merve, which turned the principal part of its waters to that neighbourhood, and raised that city to the state of richness and opulence which it once enjoyed. The dam was thrown down about forty-five years ago, by Shah Moorad, a king of Bokhara, and the river only now irrigates the country in its immediate vicinity, where it is covered with the tenements, or “obas,” of the Toorkmuns; for there are no fixed villages. These people cultivate by irrigation, and every thing grows in rich luxuriance. The Juwaree (holcus sorghum) has a stalk thicker than a walking-stick, and in the uncultivated parts there is the richest fodder for cattle and the finest thorny shrubs for the camel, an animal which is here found in vast herds. Above Merve the country is called Maroochak, and said to be unhealthy: there is a proverb, at least, which runs thus,—“Before God gets intelligence, the water of Maroochak has killed the man.”[2] This river is the Epardus of Arrian, a word which, I observe in one author, is said to mean irrigator,—nor is it here misapplied. The historian would even appear to have been acquainted with its course; for we are told that the Epardus “hides its streams in the sand, as did many other great rivers.”[3]

Amusements.

The transition which we had experienced, from a sandy desert to the verge of a running stream, was most gratifying; every one seemed delighted, and even the animals appeared to feel the change. Throughout the day the banks presented a spectacle of merriment and joy; the Toorkmuns plunging into the water with their horses, and the greater part of the caravan sporting about in the stream. We hit upon a contrivance, which contributed not a little to our sport, and produced a “tunga,” or the third part of a rupee, which was to be the reward of the person who could first cross the river. The enormous sum was solemnly vested in a committee; I believe even the blessing was said; and sixteen competitors appeared on the occasion. It was won by a Toorkmun of Shurukhs, who had the art of running quickest in the deep water.

Knights and heroines of Merve.

We were now in the vicinity of Merve, and several members of the caravan, on their approach to the river, declared that they had a view of the elevated mound of its ruined castle. I sought in vain, but the other spectators were looking for their native city, and wished, perhaps, to persuade themselves that they beheld it. I listened to the tales of valour which these people related to me of one Bairam Khan and a chosen body of seven hundred, that long resisted the arms of the Uzbeks of Bokhara, till Shah Moorad finally subdued them by a stratagem in war, and forcibly transferred the whole population to his capital. Nor was I less gratified to hear the patriotic tale of the heroines of Merve, the wives and daughters of the gallant band. It is recorded, and it is believed, that on one occasion, when the forces of Bokhara invaded the land of Merve, during the absence of Bairam Khan and his knights, these fair ones embodied and appeared in the field. The Uzbeks were intimidated at the sight of troops whom they believed they had surprised, and fled with precipitation, leaving the heroines of Merve their virtuous victors: nor is this a solitary instance of female triumph over man. The people of Merve, in their loss of country and liberty, retain the same reputation for valour which characterised their ancestors; and, to this day, when they quit the country, their valiant partners are held in Bokhara as a pledge of their fidelity, and may on no account cross the Oxus.

Alarm.

Some circumstances here came to our knowledge that called for prudence and caution, and which appeared to excite the justest alarm. As our party had arrived at the Orgunje camp, they found the chief in the act of despatching a body of 350 Toorkmuns on a foray to the frontiers of Persia. Our friends had arrived even in time to give these barbarians the usual “fatha;” for, whatever they felt, it was impossible to appear otherwise than pleased at their intentions. The Yooz-bashee in their presence charged the robbers to be of good cheer, and remember the good work on which they were to be engaged, and the golden “tillas” to be reaped in the country of the Kuzzilbash. “Go,” exclaimed he, “and bring the Prince Royal of Persia, Abbas Meerza himself to the feet of the Khan Huzrut.” The Allamans mounted in a moment, and one of the merchants, who seemed to have had his senses about him, begged that the formidable band would spare our caravan. The Yooz-bashee gave instructions to that effect; but they now shook their heads, and seemed but little disposed to put the honesty of such men to a trial. They turned over all the bearings of the case in their minds, and looked very woful. As a member of the party, I could not help asking for information on the blessings which they had been called on gratuitously to bestow on such a horde. “Fatha,” said a Persian, “I did take the name of the holy Prophet, but it was that these man-selling scoundrels might never return.” Our conductor Ernuzzer himself said, that it was an abomination to have made such a use of the first sentence of the Koran; so easy is it to make the ritual of a faith correspond with the wishes. The doctor and myself, I believe, were the only members of the caravan who would have liked to have a peep at the ferocious Allamans; but I dare say it was fortunate that our curiosity was not gratified. Since such a horde of plunderers was abroad, it was decided that we should march upon Shurukhs, a large Toorkmun settlement, and there await the result of their expedition, which the merchants of the caravan had more desire to hear of than witness. The party had been instructed to proceed by easy marches, as the Toorkmuns always do in their forays, and was expected to return on the tenth day.

Toorkmuns; their laws of plunder.

On the 30th of August we retraced the greater part of yesterday’s route, and travelled down the opposite bank of the river for about sixteen miles, when we again halted among the Toorkmuns in their native state, at an encampment called Kunjookoolan. We here mixed among them without hesitation, and gathered many particulars concerning them. The Toorkmuns are Toorks; but they differ from the Uzbeks, and are entirely devoted to a pastoral life. There are several great tribes of the race, all of whom claim a common origin; we had seen the Ersarees on the Oxus, and were now mingling with the tribe of Saruk, beyond which are the Salore. Towards the Caspian lie the Tuka, Goklan, and Yumood, all of them great tribes, and of which I shall speak as we advance. Among our Saruk acquaintances there was one individual who had passed his days in making incursions into Persia, and in his odious traffic had acquired a perfect knowledge of the language of that country, which enabled me to learn the genuine sentiments of a Toorkmun robber. His name was Noornyaz; and in his forays he had accompanied the largest and smallest parties: he had, indeed, only returned with three captives, that had been secured by the small number of six horsemen. He described the manner of approaching Persia by slow and short stages, and that, after reaching the frontiers, they frequently hovered for days in sight of a fort to watch for a favourable opportunity of capture. If none presents itself, they make a dash in upon the fields in the morning, as the shepherds and husbandmen pursue their occupations, and bear off with speed whoever they may seize. If hotly pursued, they relinquish a spare horse with which every two individuals is provided, and carry off the more valuable slave. In such a transient expedition every thing depends on the fleetness of their horses, and the Toorkmuns accordingly bestow the utmost care upon them. Training of the horses. My Toorkmun acquaintance said, that he was now preparing his horse for another foray, which consists in exercising him most severely after a long abstinence from food and water, which brings the animal to a matchless state of hardihood. They do not permit them to taste green forage, but confine them to dry food, which they believe hardens the flesh. They sweat them till their fat entirely disappears, and of this they judge by the quantity of water which the horse drinks, since it is very small if his flesh has been properly reduced. The Toorkmun horse, with such a training, far surpasses in bottom those of Europe and Arabia; but he is a coarse-looking animal, and has neither the sleekness nor beauty of coat which we see in India or our own country. Since the life and fortune of the Toorkmun are identified with the goodness of his horse, we can account for the care and attention that he bestows upon him. The little food to which he is inured enables his rider to provide with ease for his own wants: he carries the grain for the horse and himself, as well as bread and flour: in his advance he sometimes buries these in a well-known place, till he shall return from the foray; and when the Toorkmun retreats into his native desert, he is thus supplied with provisions, though he may have been weeks from his camp, which he shares with the victims of his capture, whom he drags into miserable servitude.

Reflections.

In the catalogue of human miseries there are few more severely felt, and the consequences of which are more destructive to domestic happiness, than the cruel system of man-stealing. Great as are the miseries produced by this, the hordes who engage in it appear to derive none of the luxuries or enjoyment of human life from such an occupation, and live in rags and penury, seemingly without advantage from their devastations. The terror which the Toorkmuns inspire among the people of the neighbouring countries is fearful, nor is this surprising, since they evince such fortitude and persevering energy in their dangerous occupation. We cannot fail to admire their address, and acknowledge their valour, at the time that we deplore the lot of the unhappy country on which they display their prowess. The manners and customs of the Toorkmuns, in the odious practices which they pursue against their fellow man, sap the best principles of human nature, and we consequently find this people wanting in much of the honour which is often seen among half-civilised nations. “A Toorkmun,” the people will tell you, “is a dog, and will only be kept quiet with a bit of bread, like a dog: give it then, is the doctrine of the traveller, and pass on unmolested.” They have likewise the character of being perfidious and treacherous, nor is it altogether unmerited. The Persians have endeavoured, but without success, to put a stop to these reckless inroads of the Toorkmun, but he himself lives in a desert where he is safe, and is encouraged by the ready sale which he finds for his captives in the favoured countries that lie beyond his own desolate region. In their expeditions into Persia, some Toorkmuns are occasionally captured, and an exorbitant ransom has been placed upon their heads, but yet they have been redeemed by their kinsmen. A Toorkmun passes his life either in a foray, or in preparing for one; and it is a disgraceful fact, that the chiefs of Khorasan have long and unnaturally leagued with these enemies of their religion and their country, to barter a still greater portion of unfortunate Persians into their hands, and eternal slavery. Avarice is the most baneful of our vices.

Meeting of the caravan. Claims against us.

Now that we were beyond the power of the Orgunje troops, the merchants of the caravan assembled in conclave to bemoan the loss of their money in a new tax, and to devise ways and means to recover it. It appeared to the majority, that the Firingees, that is, ourselves, should bear a portion of the burthen, and the assemblage waited on us in the evening to express their wishes, and request that we would bear one fourth of all the duties. Since the payment of the regular customs had induced the officer to forego the usual fee on each pair of panniers, we had certainly escaped every kind of tax, and this was evidently owing to the wealth and size of the caravan with which we were travelling. The Orgunje officer, too, it was now stated, had been bribed to the amount of ten tillas. It appeared both reasonable and just that we should bear our share of this outlay, and I therefore offered the usual tax of a tilla on each of our camels, since it would tend to diminish the general expenditure of the caravan. It was a point that called for the exercise of discretion and judgment, since a total denial might have converted a friendly into a hostile party; and, on the other hand, it at all times behoved us to be most sparing in our expenses. In the present instance, I had the good fortune to conciliate by my concession the principal merchants of the party. There were several who still called on us to pay a fourth share of the tax; but as I ascertained that no additional expenses had been incurred on our account, and the duties would have been levied whether we had been present or absent, I declined compliance, and stated to them that we were travellers, and their guests, in a foreign land, and hoped for their forbearance and justice. The Toorkmun chief, our friend Ernuzzer, appeared at this stage of our conversation, to enter his protest against such an outrage to hospitality as the demand which had been made upon us; but I had already made up my mind, and passed my word. The rights of the stranger are much respected among these people, and the cry of the many died away into the feeble vociferations of the poorer traders, whose scanty means made them feel more heavily the levy that had been made upon them. In one respect the character of an European in such countries is ill suited for a traveller; he is believed to possess boundless wealth, though he may be sunk in poverty; an Asiatic, in his expenses, has nothing in common with the opinions of an European.

Continuation of the Desert.

We now commenced our march in the desert westward of the Moorghab river, and made a progress of thirty-seven miles. The tract was entirely different from the opposite side, and about the middle of the journey the desert changed into a level, hard, flat surface, which it ever afterwards preserved. The camels moved up in four strings abreast of each other, and we continued to advance in that order. The tract put me much in mind of the Run of Cutch, though there were patches of bushes, which are not to be seen in that most singular region.[4] The country was destitute of water, but there were many remains of caravansarais and cisterns that had been built by the philanthropic Abdulla Khan of Bokhara. Whirlwinds. In this neighbourhood, and more particularly while on the banks of the river, we witnessed a constant succession of whirlwinds, that raised the dust to a great height, and moved over the plain like water-spouts at sea. In India these phenomena are familiarly known by the name of devils, where they sometimes unroof a house; but I had not seen them in that country either of such size or frequency as now prevailed in the Toorkmun desert. They appeared to rise from gusts of wind, for the air itself was not disturbed but by the usual north wind that blows steadily in this desert.

The highlands of Persia.

As we halted in the morning of the 1st of September, at a ruin which bore the name of Kalournee, we descried the hills of Persian Khorasan. In the direction where they rose I had observed the atmosphere to be clouded since we reached the banks of the Moorghab, and we might have perhaps seen them sooner, though they still appeared in the haze of distance. Mirage. As we discovered these mountains at sunrise, a magnificent mirage shone in the same direction. One could trace a river, and its steep and opposite banks; but, as the sun ascended, the appearance vanished, and left the same flat and cheerless country in which we were now encamped. The high banks of the river had no existence, and the water was but vapour set in the rays of light.

Plants of the desert.

As we approached Shurukhs, we could distinguish a gradual, though almost imperceptible rise in the country. We exchanged the shrubs that I have before described, for the tamarisk and the camel’s thorn, which does not grow in the desert. The most singular of the plants which a new zone presented to us, was one called “gyk chenak” in the Toorkee language, which literally means, the deer’s cup. It grows like hemlock or assafœtida (and has as bad a smell), only that a leaf, shaped precisely like a cup, surrounds each knot or division of the plant’s stalk. In this natural bowl the rains of spring are collected, and supply the deer with water. Such is the popular belief, and such is the name. We afterwards saw a plant not unlike the deer’s cup among the hills eastward of Meshid. A gum, like tallow, exuded from it, and it shot up as an annual among the high lands.

Allamans.

We had been treading in our last marches on the very ground which had been disturbed by the hoofs of the Toorkmuns who were advancing on Persia. It was with no small delight that we at last lost our traces of the formidable band, which we could discover had branched off the high road towards Meshid. Had we encountered them, a second negotiation would have been necessary, and the demands of robbers might not have been easily satisfied. “Allamans” seldom attack a caravan, but still there are authenticated instances of their having murdered a whole party in the very road we were travelling. Men with arms in their hands, and in power, are not to be restrained. After losing all traces of this band, we came suddenly upon a small party of Allamans, seven in number, who were returning from an unsuccessful expedition. Meet an unsuccessful party. They were young men, well mounted and caparisoned, in the Toorkmun manner; a lance and a sword formed their arms; they had no bows, and but one led horse. Their party had been discomfited, and four of them had fallen into the hands of the Persians. They told us of their disasters, and asked for bread, which some of our party gave them. I wish that all their expeditions would terminate like this.

Arrival at Shurukhs.

We reached Shurukhs at sun-rise on the 2d, after having performed a journey of seventy miles in forty-four hours, including every halt. During this period we had only marched for thirty-two hours, and the camels sometimes stepped out at the rate of two and a half miles an hour, which I had never before seen. All the camels were males, since they are believed to undergo fatigue better than females. Our caravan alighted round an old tomb, with a lofty dome, and it was unanimously decided, that so long as the Allamans were abroad, it would not be prudent to prosecute our journey. It was therefore resolved to sleep in Shurukhs (to use a phrase of their own), the greatest haunt of the Toorkmun robbers; a paradox truly, since we were to settle among thieves to avoid the thieves abroad. We, however, possessed but humble influence in the party, and had only to meet the general wish. The merchandize was piled round the tomb, the people took up a position outside of it, and at night the camels and horses formed a triple barrier. Such were the arrangements for our protection, and, as will be seen, not more than were necessary. Detention. The Toorkmuns crowded among us during the day, and brought tunics of camel-cloth for sale, which were readily purchased; but there was not an individual of the caravan who trusted himself at a distance from it: and how could it be otherwise, when we hourly saw the “Allamans” passing and repassing in front of us, and knew that the chief subsistence of the people was derived from these “chupaos?”

Shurukhs.

The Toorkmun settlement of Shurukhs consists of a small and weak fort, almost in ruins, situated on a hillock, under cover of which most of the inhabitants have pitched their tenements. There are a few mud houses, which have been built by the Jews of Meshid, who trade with these people; but the Toorkmuns themselves live in the conical houses or khirgahs, peculiar to their tribe. They are constructed of wood, surrounded by a mat of reeds, and covered in the roof with felts, that become black with soot. Shurukhs is the residence of the Salore Toorkmuns, the noblest of the race. Two thousand families are here domiciled, and an equal number of horses, of the finest blood, may be raised in case of need. If unable to cope with their enemies, these people flee to the deserts, which lie before them, and there await the termination of the storm. They pay a sparing and doubtful allegiance to Orgunje and Persia, but it is only an impending force that leads to their submission. When we were at Shurukhs they had a Persian ambassador in chains, and refused to grant a share of the transit duties to the Khan of Orgunje, which they had promised in the preceding month, when that chief was near them. These are commentaries on their allegiance. The Salore Toorkmuns are ruled by twelve aksukals, the heads of the different families; but they acknowledge no particular allegiance to any individual person. The country around Shurukhs is well watered by aqueducts from the rivulet of Tejend, which is a little brackish, but its waters are usefully employed in fertilising its fields. The soil is exceedingly rich, and possesses great aptness for agriculture; the seed is scattered, and vegetates almost without labour. The harvest is rich, and they reap it, like true republicans, without a tax. The inhabitants repeat a tradition, that the first of men tilled in Shurukhs, which was his garden, while Serendib or Ceylon was his house! There is not a tree or a bush to enliven the landscape, for the Toorkmuns despise gardening. The crops of wheat and juwaree are here most abundant, and the melons are only inferior to those of Bokhara.

Alarms.

Two days after our arrival at Shurukhs, and when I venture to say we had often congratulated ourselves at the near prospect of successfully terminating our journey, we experienced an alarm that at least showed our congratulations were premature. One of the Toorkmun chiefs of the place appeared in our part of the encampment, and summoned the Hajee, one of our people, to attend him, near enough for me to overhear their conversation. He commenced a long list of interrogatories regarding us, and stated that he had heard from persons in the caravan that we possessed great wealth, and had travelled into the remotest parts of Toorkistan. Such being the case, continued he, it was impossible for him to grant us permission to prosecute our journey, until the commands of Ullah Koli, Khan of Orgunje, were received concerning us. This formidable announcement would even have appeared more frightful, had not the Toorkmun added on his departure, that his fellow chiefs were ignorant of our presence in the caravan, and that we might perhaps consider his good wishes not unworthy of being purchased. The matter was however serious, since it discovered that there were persons in the caravan who were ill-disposed towards us, and it was certain that the Toorkmuns had the power of enforcing all which the person in question had threatened. Immediate measures were necessary, and I lost no time in adopting them. There were five or six merchants of respectability in the caravan, and I went to the two principal persons, whom I have before named, and related the affair to them with perfect candour. I should have gone to Ernuzzer the Toorkmun, but he had in former days lived at Shurukhs, and, in his change to the life of a citizen, had forfeited much of the influence he might be supposed to possess among his countrymen; nor did I even unfold to him the circumstances till we reached Meshid. I observed that the communication equally excited the uneasiness of the merchants, and once more discovered that these people were really concerned for our safety. They poured forth their wrath against the informer, and expressed in unequivocal language the fears which they entertained from the Vizier of Bokhara on one side, and the Prince Royal of Persia on the other. One of the merchants advised that I should immediately produce the firman of the King of Bokhara; but in this I differed, and the opinion of the other was more in consonance with my own judgment. Abdool undertook to negotiate the feeding of the dog of a Toorkmun; but it may be imagined that there was little to cheer us under such circumstances. A cheerful countenance was, however, indispensable, that we might the better meet the difficulties, and, if possible, frustrate the hopes of the villain who had betrayed us.

Dissipation of them.

The first piece of intelligence which assailed us on the following morning was the loss of a beautiful little black pony, which had been stolen from his pickets during night. It is customary in this country to chain the horse’s leg to the iron pin, and then padlock it; but we had not adopted this precaution. I regretted this loss more than I might have done a more serious misfortune. The sturdy little creature had followed me from Poona in the centre of India, had borne me in many a weary journey, and I cannot tell how much it vexed me to leave him in such a country, and in such hands. The whole caravan assembled to express their regret at the theft, and assured me that I should either have the pony or his value; but they did not understand that in my estimation he stood above all price. I was obliged to turn to other matters, and it was a more solid source of consolation to find that we had satisfied the demands, and silenced the threats of the Toorkmun chief at a most moderate sacrifice. He became master of our stock of tea, and we should have added the sugar, had it been worth presenting; and this peace offering, crowned with two gold tillas (each valued at about six and a half rupees), satisfied a chief who had us in his power. Doonmus, for so he was named, was the “Aksukal” of 300 families, and one of those who share in the plunder and taxation of Shurukhs. We were much indebted in this difficulty to Abdool, who happened to be an acquaintance of the Toorkmun, and whom we had brought over to us by some acts of civility. We might not have escaped so readily from the talons of any of the others; and it was curious that the fellow who had wished to profit by us was the friend of the merchant with whom we were most intimate.

Toorkmun customs.

This sunshine of our prosperity admitted of our entering with greater spirit into our enquiries regarding the Toorkmuns, and I gathered some characteristic incidents of the people. They are as romantic in their customs of marriage as in their habits of plunder. They do not enter into the conjugal state with the simple forms of Mahommedans; for the communication between the sexes is unrestrained, and attachments are formed that ripen into love. But the daughter of a Toorkmun has a high price, and the swain, in despair of making a legitimate purchase, seizes his sweetheart, seats her behind him on the same horse, and gallops off to the nearest camp, where the parties are united, and separation is impossible. The parents and relatives pursue the lovers, and the matter is adjusted by an intermarriage with some female relation of the bridegroom, while he himself becomes bound to pay so many camels and horses as the price of his bride. If the person be rich, these are generally paid on the spot; but if, as more often happens, he is without property, he binds himself to discharge his debt, which is viewed as one of honour; and he proceeds on forays to Persia, till he has gained enough to fulfil his engagement. His success in these generally converts him into a robber for the rest of his days; and the capture of the Kuzzilbash has now become indispensable to settle in life the family of a Toorkmun. The young lady, after her Gretna Green union, returns to the house of her parents, and passes a year in preparing the carpets and clothes, which are necessary for a Toorkmun tent; and, on the anniversary of her elopement, she is finally transferred to the arms and house of her gallant lover.

Fortitude of a slave.

A circumstance lately happened at Shurukhs, which was repeated to us by many of the people, and exhibits additional examples of the love of liberty, and the despair which is inspired by the loss of it. A Persian youth, who had been captured by the Toorkmuns, dragged out a miserable life of servitude in Shurukhs. He was resolved to be free, and chose the opportunity of his master being at an entertainment, to effect his object. He saddled the best horse of his stable, and on the very eve of departure was discovered by the daughter of his lord, who attempted to give the alarm. He drew his sword, and put the girl to death. Her cries alarmed the mother, whom he also slew; and as he was bidding his final farewell to Shurukhs, the master himself arrived. The speed of the horse, which had so often been employed in the capture of his countrymen, now availed this fugitive, who was pursued, but not overtaken; and thus, by an exertion of desperate boldness, did he regain his liberty, leaving his master to deplore the loss of his wife and his daughter, his horse and his slave.

Toorkmun customs.

I have mentioned that our camp at Shurukhs lay by the shrine of a Mahommedan saint. He flourished 824 years since, under the name of Aboolfuzzul Hoosn, as appears by an inscription on the tomb, and he is yet revered by all the Toorkmuns. If one of them fall sick, he invokes the manes of the saint; if his horse or his camel suffer from disease, he circumambulates his tomb, in the hope and conviction of relief. The Toorkmuns have no mosques; they say their prayers in the tent or in the desert, without ablution, and without a carpet. They have few Moollahs or priests, for the church has little honour among them, and they are but poor followers of the prophet. They have no education to assuage the fiercer passions, which renders the men unsusceptible of pity, and the women indifferent to chastity. The men perform all the out-door employments, and the women work at home. The Toorkmuns are a race of people who court alternate activity and idleness. Abroad they evince the greatest spirit, and at home saunter about in idleness and indolence. They are fond of their horses, and of singing songs in honour of them. At night I have listened to the panegyrics on the feats of the “Chupraslee” and “Karooghlee” horses, the never-ending theme of praise. “Karooghlee” means a warrior as well as a horse, but it describes a famous breed now said to be extinct. “Chupraslee,” though it means but swift, is applied to a particular horse of reputed speed. I longed to record some of these Toorkmun songs, but at Shurukhs we could gather only these few lines:—

A song.

“I keep an Arab horse for the day of battle,

I live on that day under his shade,

In the conflict I slay a hero,—

Keep an Arab horse, hold a shield of iron.

Kurooghlee!

“In the day of battle I bend my bow of iron,

Erect on my horse, no one can dismount me.

I am an only child, I have no brother or sister,—

Keep an Arab horse, hold a shield of iron.

Kurooghlee!

“If I breathe, the ice of the mountains melts,

The water of my eyes would turn a mill,

So said Jonas the Puree,—

Keep an Arab horse, hold a shield of iron.

Kurooghlee!”

A Toorkmun house.

After the alarm which we had already experienced in Shurukhs, it was not desirable that we should mingle much with the people; but I had great curiosity to see them, and our Toorkmun Ernuzzer said I was invited to a friend’s house, and I accompanied him without further consideration. I was very agreeably surprised to find these wandering people living here, at least, in luxury. The tent or khirgah was spacious, and had a diameter of about twenty-five feet. The sides were of lattice-work, and the roof was formed of laths, which branched from a circular hoop, about three feet in diameter, through which the light is admitted. The floor was spread with felts and carpets, of the richest manufacture, which looked like velvet. Fringed carpets were also hung up round the tent, which gave it a great finish, and their beauty was no doubt enhanced by their being the work of wives and daughters. On one side of the tent was a small press, in which the females of the family kept their clothes, and above it were piled the quilts on which they slept. These are of variegated coloured cloth, both silk and cotton. From the circular aperture in the roof, three large tassels of silk were suspended, differing in colour, and neatly wrought by some fair young hand. Altogether, the apartment and its furniture bespoke any thing but an erratic people; yet the host explained to me that the whole house could be transported on one camel, and its furniture on another. On my return I expressed my surprise at such comfort, but my companions in the caravan bade me not wonder at such a display, since the Toorkmuns were man-eaters (adum khor), and got their food for nothing. Many a nation has been written down as cannibals on as slight grounds; but the people merely meant to tell me that they lived on the proceeds of man-selling. Before I quitted the tent, the host produced bread and melons, according to their custom, of which we partook, with about fifteen other Toorkmuns, who had dropped in. They cut up a melon with great dexterity and neatness, separate the pulp from the skin, which is not thicker than that of an orange, by a single sweep of the knife, then dividing it into a dozen pieces. I listened for about half an hour to their conversation, the subject of which I could comprehend to be slaves and horses. They took me for a native of Cabool, from the loongee which I wore as a turban, nor did I undeceive them. They all got up as I left, and bade me good-bye with all the respect of a good Mahommedan. They might not have injured me had they known the truth, but they would have detained me with endless questions; and, as it was, I saw their customs without inconvenience. I was never so much struck with the Tatar features as in this assemblage. The Toorkmun has a skull like a Chinese, his face is flat, his cheek bones project, and his countenance tapers to the chin, which has a most scanty crop of hair. He is by no means ugly, and his body and features are alike manly. Their women are remarkably fair, and often handsome.

Toorkmun mode of feasting.

I might have followed up my acquaintance, and dined with the Toorkmuns in the evening; but, since I did not do so, I shall describe their feast from Toorkmun authority. When they invite a stranger to dinner, they send to say they have killed a sheep. They are not very choice in their cookery. Their cakes are baked about two feet in diameter, and an inch thick, of the coarsest flour, and generally mixed up with slices of pumpkin. These are always eaten fresh. When the party assembles, the cloth is spread, and each person crumbles down the piece of cake which is laid before him. The meat is then brought, which consists of one entire sheep, boiled in a huge Russian pot. They separate the flesh from the bones, and tear it into as small pieces as the bread, with which it is mixed. They shred about a dozen of onions, and throw the whole mess into the pot where the meat has been boiled, and mix it up with the soup. It is then served out in wooden bowls, one of which is placed before every two persons. Their mode of eating is as singular as that of preparation; they fill their open hand, and commencing from the wrist, lick it up like dogs, holding the head over the bowl, which catches all that falls. Each of the two in his turn fills his hand, and holds his head over the bowl. Melons follow, and the repast concludes with a pipe of tobacco. The women do not eat with the men.

Success of the Allamans.

On the seventh day after our arrival at Shurukhs, when every one was enquiring about the “Allamans,” or robbers, who had preceded us, they began to drop in upon us by twos and threes, with their horses lame and jaded, and by evening upwards of a hundred had arrived. They stopped by the caravan, and gave us a glowing account of their foray, congratulating themselves in boastful strains at their success. They had made their descent near Meshid four days previously, about ten in the morning, and rode up to the very walls of the city, driving men and animals before them. Not a soul appeared to arrest their progress; and when they numbered their spoil a few miles from the city, they found 115 human beings, 200 camels, and as many cattle. Since then they had returned without haste, and now skirted Shurukhs for refreshment. On the way they had already divided their booty. A fifth was given to the Khan of Orgunje, and the party had to congratulate themselves at the number of able-bodied men, and the few white-beards, old ones, among their prisoners. Returning through the hills, they encountered the videttes of a small party of horse, who are stationed to give information at Durbund, which lies between Shurukhs and Meshid. In the scuffle, one of the Toorkmuns was wounded, and they captured one of the videttes and fifteen horses. They put the unfortunate Persian to death, as an offering to God for the success which attended them; since they pretend to consider the murder of a heretic Kuzzilbash as grateful to the Almighty; and they generally kill most of the old persons who fall into their hands, as a propitiatory offering to the Creator. The Toorkmuns, indeed, defend their capture of these unfortunate human beings, on the ground of their conversion to a true religion, and consequent salvation. Unhappily for mankind, the history of the world presents us with too many and similar instances of this mistaken and religious zeal. The Spaniards pursued their conquests in the New World under the specious pretence of disseminating Christianity; they sacked the empires of Mexico and Peru, and butchered their inoffending inhabitants; while their priests impiously blessed their inhuman outrages.[5] They, too, like the Toorkmuns, propitiated their king by a present of a fifth of their spoil. Human nature, under king or khan, is the same in all countries, whether we contemplate the frenzy and avarice of the Spaniards in America, or the roaming Toorkmun in the Scythian deserts.

The opportunity which was afforded us of seeing these robbers, inspired a good opinion of their courage, for many of them were indifferently armed. They all had swords, most had light, long lances, quite different from those used by the Uzbeks, and a few had small matchlocks. Their horses looked quite done up, and walked as if on beds of gravel; but they had been thirteen days in motion, with scanty food and much work. While we admire the courage of these men, what shall we think of the Persians, who are encamped within two days’ journey of Meshid, under the heir-apparent of their throne, and numbering an army of twenty thousand men?

Inconve­niences.

The return of the Orgunje Allamans should have now settled our movements, but some timid being spread a rumour that half of the robbers yet lay in wait for our caravan on the Persian frontier. Our departure was therefore still put off, and I cannot say that I felt comfortable in such quarters. We had no tent or shelter for ten days but the rotten walls of an old tomb, which were infested with reptiles. Though our bed had always been the ground, and we had long ceased to feel the aches which one experiences from an occasional bivouac in civilised life, we could not now spread a carpet, lest we should appear too rich among the Toorkmuns, who stated in upon us at all times, and frequently asked us questions. Our bread, too, had been ten times coarser than “bannocks of barley meal,” not half so palatable. We could with great difficulty read or write for a single hour during the day, and the time passed as heavily as possible, exhausting our patience. Mad camel. During our detention, one of the camels was said to have gone mad, whether from ennui or some more cogent cause I knew not. The poor creature foamed at the mouth, groaned, and refused its food. The case was referred to us, as he was pronounced to be possessed of a devil; but of course without avail. At length they fell on the expedient of frightening the camel, by clashing a lighted torch before his eyes and body, and kindling reeds and furze under his nose. They also passed a red-hot iron over his head; and the animal assuredly improved under this rough treatment, of burning the devil who had lodged in so ugly a creature.

Departure from Shurukhs.

At length, on the 11th of September, after a detention of ten long days, we joyfully quitted Shurukhs at sunrise. The Toorkmuns maintained their character to the last. After giving us leave, and agreeing to tax us at the first stage, they waited till we had fairly started, and then sent orders to stop the caravan. They demanded a tilla and a half on every camel; which is the customary transit duty for an escort to the Persian frontier. The party came only a few miles, and then returned, tired of escorting; nor were we sorry to get so well rid of them. Our caravan had now been increased by the junction of two others, which had come up during our stay, and formed a numerous body: but I fear there were more timid than fighting hearts among us. Increased caravan. There were men, women, and children; merchants, travellers, pilgrims, and emancipated slaves. There were Uzbeks, Arabs, Persians, Afghans, Hindoos, Jews, natives of Budukhshan and Cashmeer; Toorks and Toorkmuns; a Nogai Tatar, a wandering Kirghiz from Pameer, and ourselves, natives of Europe. Last, not least, was a young Persian girl, about fifteen years old, whom we had picked up at Shurukhs, and who was said to be of exquisite beauty. She had been captured by the Toorkmuns; and her loveliness overcoming their avarice, she had at first been detained by her captor. The arrival of our caravan and so many merchants, however, tempted his cupidity; and he offered his charge for sale. A merchant of Tehran purchased her for seventy-seven gold tillas; and the poor girl, who was walking about a few hours before, and saw and was seen by every one, was now literally packed up in a pannier. She had changed her character from slave to wife; for it signifies nought that she may have another husband, since she is surely born again who comes out of the hands of the Toorkmuns. This was a leap year; but a lady may be there allowed at all times to fall in love. The fair one of whom I speak made a set at the first merchant who visited her; and stated, as an inducement to her purchase, that she would join any creed they liked. This Persian girl is not the first of her sex who has changed her doctrines with her name.

Entrance into Persia.

We halted in the afternoon at a cistern, eighteen miles distant from Shurukhs, the fort of which was yet visible; for we had travelled over level country, broken in some places by gravelly hillocks. At the third mile we crossed the dry and pebbly bed of the small river of Tejend, which rises in the neighbouring hills, and is lost in the sands. This is not the Herat river, nor is it the Ochus, for no such great river as appears in our maps has existence. Its pools were saline, and much of the soil was also salt. There were remnants of civilisation, but neither fields nor inhabitants. We again set out about eight at night with a full moon; and, after an advance of seven or eight miles, entered among defiles and hills, and found ourselves at Moozderan or Durbund, the frontier post in Persia, a little after sunrise, and forty-five miles from Shurukhs. The whole of the latter part of the route lay in a deep ravine, where there is imminent danger in travelling from the “Allamans” of the desert. We pushed on with great celerity and greater fear: every instrument of war was in requisition, every match was lit, and the slightest sound brought the horsemen to a halt; for we hourly expected to encounter the Toorkmuns. After a night of such anxiety, we beheld with pleasure the look-out towers of Durbund, eleven of which crown the crest of the range, and command its passage. We here found a few irregular soldiers, the first subjects of the “Great King” whom we encountered. They were dispirited after the attack of the Toorkmuns, since this was the party which had lost their horses, and some of their fellow-soldiers.

Moozderan or Durbund.

After we had surmounted the pass of Durbund, our caravan alighted in the fields beyond the fort of Moozderan, which stands on an isolated spur of table-land, as you descend the pass. The place was once peopled; but the Khan of Orgunje some years since seized its inhabitants en masse, and razed their defences. In repair, it might protect the road into Persia; but a peasant cannot risk his life unless he receives the protection of his king. There is a beautiful fountain of tepid water, which springs up under Moozderan; and makes for itself, and some kindred streams, a channel down the valley, where the fruit trees and gardens of the exiled inhabitants may still be seen. It appeared a charming spot to us after so long a sojourn among desolation. The men on the pass showed us a cave, of which they had many fabulous tales, describing it to be without a termination. It was lately the scene of great slaughter and distress, for the population retired into it when pressed by the Khan of Orgunje; and as they issued like bees from the hive, they were put to death or sent in perpetual exile across the desert.

Approach to Meshid.

Our arrival in Persia afforded the greatest source of joy to many of the persons in the caravan, who, though natives of Bokhara, were yet Shiahs. I thought that when we quitted that holy city, we should have done with such sanctified spots; but the capital which we were now approaching, Meshid i Mookuddus, the sacred Meshid, appeared, by every account, to be even more holy than Bokhara. When we should behold its gilded dome, I now heard that every one would fall down and pray. The Persians here began to speak boldly of their creed, which they had so long concealed; and the spirit of the place might now be discovered by the tale of a person in the caravan, who was by no means illiterate. A merchant, who had lately travelled to Meshid, overloaded one of his camels, which fled, immediately on its reaching the city, to the shrine of the holy Imam Ruza, and lowed out its complaints. The animal was received, I presume, into the list of the faithful, since the priests of the shrine added him to their flock, adorned him with housings and bells, and gave him precedence of all other camels. The merchant confessed his cruelty, sued for forgiveness, and was pardoned at the sacrifice of his camel. To these and such tales an European must always listen and wonder; for though we have asserted, on the authority of the Koran itself, that the creed of the Mahommedan is not supported by miracles, its votaries admit no such doctrine; and enumerate the hundred thousand deviations from the laws of nature, which have happened for the benefit of the Mahommedan church. I had ventured among the Uzbeks to speak of the Koran and its contents, which I admitted I had read in translation. “Fool that you are,” was the reply; “how is it possible to transfer that holy book to another language, when every letter of every word has a distinct and individual meaning, that is only to be comprehended in the original?” I never afterwards paraded my biblical research; for while I found my knowledge of their Koran arraigned, I also heard, for the first time, that the Old and New Testament were nowhere to be found but as an incorporation with the Koran, since the copies of both Jews and Christians were vitiated forgeries! The arts of the priests of Islam bring to our remembrance the similar impositions of the Catholic church in by-gone ages. In Europe, however, the churchmen did really understand the learned language of the scriptures; but, among the Mahommedans, there are Moollahs who can only read, while they do not understand their version. There are of course many scholars, but there are distinct classes who do and do not understand; nor do they hesitate to speak of their learning or their ignorance, since the reading of the Koran is a sublime occupation, that covers the worst of sins.

Tarantulla.

We could not yet consider ourselves within the protection even of the holy Meshid, which was thirty-eight miles from Moozderan; we therefore moved at nightfall. In the bustle of departure I killed a huge reptile of a “tarantulla,” or an enormous spider, crawling on my carpet. Its claws looked like those of a scorpion, or small lobster, but the body was that of a spider. I was assured of its poisonous nature, and the natives insisted that it squirted its venom instead of stinging. We were soon on the wing, and wound our way up the valley of the Tejend, which was now a beautiful brook. Adventure. We commenced our journey in terror, and ere long met with an adventure that increased the rapidity of our march. About midnight the braying of a donkey intimated to some palpitating hearts that we were in the neighbourhood of human beings, where none should exist. The shout of “Allaman, Allaman!” spread like lightning; and the caravan, in a moment, assumed the appearance of a regiment in open column, closing up in double march to form a square. The foremost camels squatted instantly, and the others formed behind them. Matches were lit on every side, swords were drawn, pistols loaded, and the unhappy merchants capered in front of their goods, half mad with fear and fury. The unarmed portion of the caravan took post among the camels, which really formed a tolerable square, increased as they were to the number of one hundred and twenty. The anxiety was intense, it was general; the slaves were more terrified than the rest, for they well knew the fate of capture by the Toorkmuns. After about a quarter of an hour’s detention, one of the party discovered that the Allamans, of whom we were standing in such awe, were a party of twenty poor wandering Eimauks, who had been gathering die (boozghoom) on the hills. They were more terrified than us, for their number made their fate inevitable had we been Toorkmuns. Immediately the mistake was discovered, a shout of delight raised the camels, and the caravan moved on at double its usual speed, with seven or eight camels abreast; nor did it stop at the prescribed halting-ground, but pushed on some eight or ten miles farther when the day dawned. No sooner had we finished a scanty meal than it was again in motion, and a little after mid-day we reached Ghoozkan, the first inhabited village in Persia, and about fourteen miles from Meshid.

Ghoozkan slaves.

We halted a few hours at Ghoozkan, and had an opportunity of observing the supreme joy of the poor slaves, who had now reached their native land in safety. Many of the merchants gave them clothes and money to assist in their journey homewards, and it was with pleasure that we joined in the charitable feelings of the caravan. A few ducats purchased much happiness. Ghoozkan is peopled by Teimurees, a tribe of Eimaks, and has a population of about a thousand souls. They were a miserable looking set of beings, who used bandages as stockings, and covered their heads with brown sheep-skin caps. The whole of the inhabitants turned out to see us pass, and many of the poor creatures asked, in melancholy strains, of the different passengers, if we did not bring letters from their captive friends in Toorkistan. Troubled country. The Toorkmuns seldom spare Ghoozkan in their forays; and the last party had carried off six of their children, and put four of their peasants to death. One wonders that human beings would consent to live in such a spot. The circle of the villages around Meshid gets more circumscribed yearly, and in the one which we first entered every field had its tower, built by the cultivator, as a defence to which he might fly on seeing the approach of a Toorkmun. What a state of society, that requires the ploughshare and the sword in the same field! We loaded the camels after a watch of night, and set out for Meshid, the gates of which we reached long before the sun had risen, not more to our own joy than that of the poor Persian slaves, who had performed every step of the journey with a palpitating breast.

CHAP. XIV.
KHORASAN.

Arrival in Meshid.

At dawn, on the morning of the 14th of September, we found our caravan waiting, in anxious expectation, under the walls of Meshid. At sunrise the keys of the gate were brought, which was at once thrown open to us. A new scene burst upon our view, with a rapidity which one only sees in theatrical representation. We had left a desert and the wandering Toorkmuns, and now advanced, in stately order, through a crowded city, arresting the notice of all the inhabitants. We had exchanged the broad face and broader turbans of the Toork and Tartar for the slim and long-faced Kuzzilbash, with a fur cap on his head, and his ringlets curling up behind, who now stood idly looking at us, with his hands in his pockets. The street which we entered was spacious and handsome; an aqueduct passed through it, and its banks were shaded by trees, while the splendid cupola and gilded minarets of the shrine of Imam Ruza terminated the perspective. A hundred and twenty camels passed up this avenue, and entered the spacious caravansarai of the Uzbeks. We followed in course, and seated ourselves on the balcony of the building, that we might the better observe the busy scene of the area beneath us. The inundation had, however, filled this extensive caravansarai, and we were necessitated to seek for an abode in a humbler place, which we found hard by.

The Prince Royal of Persia, Abbas Meerza, was now in the neighbourhood of Meshid; and though this country had been visited by few Europeans, we knew that there were British officers in his Royal Highness’s service. I lost no time, therefore, in despatching an express to the camp, which was about a hundred miles distant: but we were agreeably surprised to receive a polite message from Mrs. Shee, the lady of Captain Shee, who was then in Meshid; and it was equally pleasing to have it conveyed by a messenger who spoke our own language, one of the serjeants of the Prince’s army. During our stay in Meshid, we found ourselves more comfortable than since we had left India, and experienced many acts of civility and attention. We gladly changed the barbarous custom of eating with our hands; and, though our fair hostess was a Georgian, who only spoke Persian, we fancied ourselves once more among the society of our country.

Interview with Khoosrou Meerza.

I was soon astir to see the city of Meshid; and first visited the ark, or citadel, where I was suddenly surprised by the presence of Khoosrou Meerza, the son of the Prince, and the young man who had been deputed to St. Petersburg on the massacre of the Russian ambassador, now the acting governor of Meshid, while his father kept the field. He appeared to have profited by his journey to Europe, and conversed with me for an hour, asking much about our travels, and then jested on my beard and dress, which he assured me would be a great curiosity in my native land. He enquired whether I was a Catholic or a Protestant; and recurred with wonder to our having reached Persia in safety. He begged I would visit him on the following day, which I did not fail to do, being favourably impressed with this the first specimen of the royal house. I found the Prince next morning transacting business in the ark; and the ceremonial of approaching this scion of royalty was as formal as if he had been sovereign of the land. He is a most talkative person, and gave me an account of his journey to Russia, speaking with the highest encomiums of the education and polished manners of the ladies in that country. One of his suite, who appeared to be a privileged person, said, that his Highness could never be excused for having returned to Persia without one of these angels. The Prince declared that it was impossible, and referred it to me, who was in duty bound to tell him, that a person of his rank might have married the most illustrious. Khoosrou Meerza appeared to be about twenty-three years of age. He has had, of course, great advantages over other Persians; but I liked his capacity and his remarks. He asked me if the ancient art of staining glass had been revived; if our progress in sculpture was yet thought to rival Greece; and if the unicorn had been found in any quarter of the world. He then enquired whether it was most difficult to introduce discipline among irregular troops, or a new system of laws and government in a country. “With Europeans,” he said, “every thing is based on history and experience; but in Persia there are no such guides. Persia, which held a supremacy before the age of Mahommed, has now sunk into a state of torpor and bigotry, and has no literature but the Koran. In Europe, there are those who study the Bible, as well as those who are devoted to science: but,” added he, “there is very little religion in Russia among the higher ranks with whom I associated.” I must confess that I was pleased to hear the youth talk so learnedly, since a knowledge of one’s ignorance is the first step to improvement.

Description of Meshid.

I lost no time in visiting the city of Meshid; but I need not present a diffuse or long account of it, since I find that there is both a minute and correct one in Mr. Fraser’s admirable work on Khorasan.[6] The holy city of Meshid surrounds the tomb of the Imam Ruza, the fifth in descent from Ali, and three streets branch out in different directions from the shrine. Two of them are wide and spacious, shaded by trees, and enlivened by running water. A chain, drawn across the streets, within a hundred yards of the shrine, encloses its bazar and the riches of Meshid, and keeps out cattle and animals from the sanctified spot. Here the hive has swarmed, for all other parts of Meshid are in ruins, though its walls enclose a circuit of about seven miles. I cannot rate its population at forty thousand souls. The greater portion of the enclosed space is devoted to the use of a cemetery, since it is believed that the dead may rest in peace near an Imam. There are also shady gardens to please the living. The inhabitants of Meshid seem to delight in burrowing in the ground; all the houses are entered by a descent; and it is said, that the earth so scooped out has been applied to the repairs and building of the house. The town is well supplied with water from aqueducts and spacious cisterns. The natives of Toorkistan will tell you, that the Imam Ruza removed to Meshid on account of the wickedness of the people and the necessity for his presence. The Uzbeks have a couplet, which states, “that if Meshid had not its cerulean dome, it would be the common sewer of the world.”[7] The Persians, on the other hand, describe it, in poetical language, as “the most enlightened spot on the face of the earth, for there are the rays of the Creator of the world.”[8] Who will judge between the parties? At Bokhara, a Shiah is a Soonee; at Meshid, a Soonee wishes to be thought a Shiah.

Shrine of Imam Ruza.

I paid an early visit to his holy shrine; for I experienced in my peregrinations through Meshid none of the bigotry or jealousy which seem so constantly to have beset Mr. Fraser. About the centre of the city the sepulchre rests under a gilded dome, which is rivalled by twin minarets of burnished gold, that shed resplendent light in the rays of the sun. A spacious mosque of azure blue rears a loftier dome and minarets close to the tomb, and was built by Gohur Shah, a descendant of the illustrious Timour. The pilgrim who visits this shrine must first travel the bazar and cross the chain, when he enters a sanctuary, which no crime admits of being violated. He then proceeds under a lofty archway, and finds himself within a spacious quadrangle, the work of the great Abbas, which is a resting-place for the living and the dead. It is surrounded by small apartments, like a caravansary, which is a “madrissu,” or college, and the pavement is formed of tombstones, that cover the remains of those whose devotion and wishes have led to their being here interred. The arches and sides of the area are ornamented with a painted tile, not unlike enamel, which has a chaste and rich appearance. On the western side of the square lies the entrance to the shrine, which leads under a lofty Gothic arch, of the richest gilding. It is further adorned by mirrors let into the wall, and illuminated after sunset by tapers suspended from the roof. Beyond this threshold an infidel may not pass but in disguise, and my judgment conquered my curiosity. I might have escaped in the crowd; but I might have been discovered, though I learn that the beauties of the place deserve a risk. The richness increases the fervency of the pilgrim’s devotion, who enters it by a gate of silver; and the tomb is said to be shielded from the touch of the profane by railings of steel and brass, on which plates of silver and wood, with blessings and prayers carved upon them, are suspended. Innumerable lamps of gold hang over the grave, which are lit upon the “eed” and the holidays of the saints, to honour the festival and enable the priests to display with advantage the riches and jewels that pious individuals have consecrated at this shrine. On the side opposite the entrance is the beautiful mosque of Gohur Shah; and here I walked without timidity. It is a fine specimen of architecture, and the arch, in which the “mihrab,” or niche towards Mecca, is placed, is superbly adorned and most chastely executed. It is beautified by lofty blue minarets on either side, which rise in rich effect and grandeur.

Grave of Nadir Shah.

Meshid has no buildings but its shrine. There are some colleges and a spacious and unfinished caravansary, with twenty-one others in different parts of the city; but still it is the burial-place of the great Nadir Shah. His grave, now dishonoured and marked by the ruins of the edifice that once sheltered it from the elements, is one of the most interesting sights to a traveller. What a field for rumination in such a spot! The fountains and flowers which encircled it have disappeared; the peach-tree, which put forth its blossom on the returning spring, has fallen under the axe, and the willows and cypresses have been torn down. In their place a crop of turnips had been sown by some industrious citizen. Shade of Nadir, what a change is here! he who shook the kingdoms of the East, has been denied in death the small quadrangle of a garden, which the affection of sons had hallowed to the merit of a parent. This is the reward of him who delivered his country from a foreign usurper, and who studied his country’s good: but the well-being of a state does not necessarily comprehend the well-being of all its members. Nadir aimed the blows of despotism at the family which has succeeded to his empire, and he maimed the successful individual, who seized upon his kingdom and ejected his sons. Aga Mahommed Khan Khoju was mutilated in his youth by Nadir; but he retained the feelings of a man, and dug up the bones of the conqueror, in revenge for his disgrace. Report adds, that he sent them to Tehran, and placed them under the step which leads to the audience hall, that the courtiers and every one might trample upon them. We can readily comprehend the chagrin of a monarch who was not a man; and if his wrath excites our contempt, it enlists our sympathy. A eunuch himself, he spared his country from those banes of a palace. There are still some of Nadir’s descendants living in Meshid; but they are blind and in destitute circumstances. My informant told me that they often applied to him for bread.

Illumination.

We soon received a reply to our communication from the Prince Royal’s camp, and were invited to pay our respects to Abbas Meerza, who had just captured the fortress of Koochan, which was said to be one of the strongest in Persia. The intelligence of its fall was received in Meshid with great enthusiasm, and followed by an illumination of three successive nights: for no monarch since the days of Nadir had ever subdued the chiefs of Khorasan. We dined à la Perse with Abdool, our old travelling friend, who is a merchant in Meshid, and then proceeded to view the illumination. Among the devices, I most admired the shop of a butcher, who had illuminated eight or ten sheep, by placing lights behind their fat and tallow, which he had cut into delicate stripes. I gave him credit for his ingenuity, if he kept his meat from roasting. In one street I saw an effigy dangling in the air, which I, of course, set down as the Koord chief who had been captured at Koochan; but this was no other person than the accursed Omar. It must have edified the Soonees to witness the holy caliph between earth and heaven; but I had none of my Bokhara acquaintances to give me their comments. Besides the effigy on the gibbet, we had a real exhibition of a man suspended from a beam laid across the street, and that, too, in a blaze of light. How the contrivance was made I did not discover; for he had a rope round his neck, and kicked and acted to reality. As the crowd gazed on this curious exhibition, a wag fixed eight or ten tapers to the head of a butting ram, and let him loose among the assembly, where he forced his way as well by his horns as the lights that crowned him. Altogether the scene approached much nearer a genuine British illumination than I had ever expected to see in Asia.

We now prepared for our journey to camp, and took leave of all our Bokhara acquaintances and friends; visiting most of them at the caravansary, where we had a parting cup of tea. Many of the slaves came to see us, and we now hailed them as freemen. I was sorry to bid adieu to Ernuzzer the Toorkmun; but I gave him a letter to the Vizier of Bokhara; and, as it contained all the news of Khorasan, he seemed proud to be its bearer, and was anxious to set out on his return. We had now less fear of being thought rich; so we clothed our friend in a dress, and amply rewarded him for his services. I stuck a pistol in his girdle as he was leaving; and, though of the coarsest manufacture, it seemed a mighty gift to a Toorkmun. I had also to prepare a variety of letters to our friends in Toorkistan, to whom I was pledged to write. I did not require such a pledge: for at a distance from them, and many more of our friends on this side the Indus, I remembered innumerable acts of kindness which had contributed to our comfort and happiness while living among them, which I could not now forget. In Meshid, perhaps, our feelings were more pleasing than in any part of the journey; for we had the prospect of soon seeing our countrymen, and the rest of our undertaking was, comparatively speaking, easy. We could now dress in respectable and clean clothes, without being called on to pay for our comforts.

Departure from Meshid.

After a week’s stay at Meshid, we quitted it on the 23d of September, and marched up the valley of the Meshid river to Ameerabad, a distance of forty miles. It was dark before we reached the stage, and we were benighted; we therefore spread our felts in a field, and bivouacked through the night. We espied the lights of some travellers near us, and they sold us wheat, with which we fed our ponies. About twelve miles from Meshid, we passed the ruins of Toose, which is the ancient capital of Khorasan; but the inhabitants have transferred themselves to Meshid. The valley of this river is rich; and it was pleasant to see extensive fields, in a dry country, watered by irrigation. Ameerabad, which we did not see, is a strong fortress, and was captured by the Prince, about a month before we arrived, after a siege of five weeks. It is situated in the district of Chinaran.

Koochan.

We continued our progress up the valley for sixty miles, and reached Koochan on the third day of our leaving Meshid. This is said to be the coldest part of Khorasan; and it may well be believed, when the thermometer fell to 29° at sunrise in September. As water boiled at 206°, we were about 4000 feet above the sea. The valley varied in breadth from twelve to twenty miles, and there were some verdant spots under the hills, where the finest fruit is produced. Otherwise the country was bare and bleak. The hills have no wood, and are even destitute of brushwood. They rise to the height of 2000 or 3000 feet above the valley. We passed many villages by the way; but they were now deserted, on account of the war against the Koords. The roads were hard and excellent. We met many of the soldiers returning to their homes, since the campaign had terminated. They were a favourable specimen of the troops of Khorasan; for they were provided with arms that had serviceable flint locks, which I had not seen since leaving Cabool. The men were small, but they were merely the “Eeljaree,” or militia of the country.

Camp of the Prince.

We reached the camp of Abbas Meerza a little before noon, and found ourselves once more in European society. So complete was our disguise, that we had to make ourselves known, though we were expected. European officers. We sat down to breakfast with Captain Shee, Mr. Barowski, and Mr. Beek, who now compose the corps of officers in the Prince’s service. How delighted did we feel to hear our native language, and learn the news and events which had been passing in our protracted absence! We had arrived at an eventful moment, as the fortress had but a few days fallen, and we yet threaded our way among fascines and gabions, sap, mines, outworks, batteries, covert ways, and all the other works of a besieging army. Nothing could be more gloomy than the walls of the town. The parapet had been nearly dismantled; some of the towers had been blown up; all were battered; and the soldiery, now relieved from the dangers of the campaign, were filling up the ditch in listless idleness. This fosse was a barrier of a most formidable nature; for it was about thirty-five feet deep and twenty broad, though it narrowed towards the bottom. The Prince’s army had effected a lodgment across it; and a few more hours would have settled the fate of the fortress, when its chief surrendered at discretion. Koochan is a strong fortress, about a mile and a half in circumference, and was defended by a garrison of 8000 men. The assault would have been attended with bloodshed, and its fall is entirely to be attributed to the European officers, whose science and skill had been grafted on the labour and exertion of the Persians.

Introduction to Abbas Meerza.

In the evening, we were introduced to the Prince Royal, by Captain Shee. His Royal Highness was proceeding to inspect his park of artillery, and we met him by the way. He received us in a most engaging and affable manner; offered us his congratulations at the great success of our journey through countries which he had not believed accessible to Europeans. He then assured us, that our troubles were at an end, since we had reached a land where our nation was respected. I thanked the Prince for his kindness, and then briefly replied to the various questions which he put regarding the countries we had visited. By this time we were standing in front of his artillery, while the whole of his court were about fifty yards in rear of us. The Prince gave a signal, and about six or eight persons advanced. He introduced two of them as his sons; another as Ruza Koli Khan, the conquered chief of the proud fortress. There was also another Koord chief; and Yar Mahommed Khan, the minister of Herat. What a sight did the great Koord chief present to us, now standing in homage before his conqueror and the artillery which had subdued him. It appears that the parade had been ordered, to give him a sight of the park, and we had arrived at the opportune time to witness the spectacle. The Prince, turning towards me, said, “You must see my artillery;” and we then passed down the line with his Royal Highness, examining each gun as we approached it. Abbas Meerza took great pains to explain every thing concerning them; and the enquiries and looks of the unfortunate Ruza Koli Khan drew forth many a smiling remark. The chief appeared bewildered, and I thought he feigned insanity. He asked the Prince to give him a large mortar, which we were all admiring; Abbas Meerza told him not now to trouble himself about these things. The guns, which had fallen with the fortress, were drawn up in line, with the other artillery; they were Russian ordnance, cast in 1784, and had been captured from the present King of Persia. The Koord chief pretended not to recognise them; and, when he heard of their history, made a just enough remark, that they were good enough for Koochan. In the place of this chief, I should have considered it no dishonour to be subdued by a park of thirty-five guns, from four to 32-pounders, in the best state of efficiency. The Prince then witnessed the exercise of the corps; bearing the amplest testimony to the merits of Captain Lindsay (now Sir Henry Bethune), the British officer who had organised it, and of whom he spoke with kindness. The ceremony then terminated, and we retired from the scene with much gratification at an interview with a Charles the Second in Persia. I was disappointed in Abbas Meerza’s appearance. He has been handsome, but is now haggard, and looks an old man; he has lost his erect carriage, his eye waters, and his cheek is wrinkled. He was plainly dressed, and walked with a stick in his hand. His eldest son, Mahommed Meerza, was present; but he has not the manners or dignity of his parent, though he is also an agreeable person.

Interview with Abbas Meerza.

On the following morning we paid our respects to the Prince Royal in his tents, and found him transacting business with his minister, the Kaim Mukam, and several other persons who were standing round him. There was no state or pomp to mark so great a personage. When the Prince had settled some matters on which he was engaged, he gave us a dose of politics, and talked of the incomparable advantages to England of upholding Persia, and begged I would explain in my own country his present situation; which, though at the head of a successful army, was most embarrassing, since he had no money to pay it. I told the Prince that I regretted to hear such a detail of his difficulties, and I could only hope that he would surmount them all. I did not tell him, as I have ever felt, that I consider the payment of money to such a cabinet as derogatory to the name and honour of Britain; since it has tended more to lower our reputation in Asia than our most martial deeds in India have done to raise it. There was not, however, wanting a share of cant in the Prince’s oration; for he gravely assured me that he had now taken the field to suppress the sale and capture of his subjects as slaves by the Uzbeks. The motive was praiseworthy; but mark the conclusion:—“I am entitled, therefore, to the assistance of Britain: for if you expend annually thousands of pounds in suppressing the slave trade in Africa, I deserve your aid in this quarter, where the same motives exist for the exercise of your philanthropy.” I was pleased with the ingenuity and earnestness of the reasoning, which his Royal Highness had, no doubt, derived from some English newspaper or English friend. The Prince now turned to other matters, and asked regarding my education, and the notes which I had taken of the unknown country I had visited. “I am aware of your custom to do so,” said he; “and it is this general observance of it which has exalted your nation in the scale of civilisation.” He enquired if I had met with any potatoes in my travels; and, on my replying in the negative, he produced a basketful of his own rearing, with evident satisfaction. They were a fair specimen, and do most decidedly entitle his Royal Highness to be elected an honorary member of a horticultural society. In the true spirit of a courtier, the Prince returned to the Uzbeks and the different countries of Toorkistan with which he thought me best acquainted. He asked, if I had met with any explanation of those passages in the History of Timour, where the undermining of a tower is described, and its then being destroyed by fire. I was not prepared for such a question, and mentioned the Greek fire used at the siege of Constantinople, and the circumstance of Timour’s vicinity to China, where it is believed that the art of making gunpowder was then known. I had not at this time heard that the undermined towers were supported by wooden frameworks, which, when set fire to, ceased to support the bastion, and it consequently fell. I next replied to the Prince’s queries regarding the customs of the Uzbeks. He smiled at their abomination of tobacco; since they sold it publicly, and mentioned that the servants of an envoy, whom he had lately received from Orgunje, caught the smoke as it came out of their master’s mouth. I had not seen such barbarism in Bokhara. When I related to the Prince the spiritual notions of the Uzbeks, and some instances of their hearing witness against themselves, he related to us a similar occurrence in the life of Ali:—A female, who was enceinte, called for death, as an atonement for her sins. The Caliph desired her to appear when her offspring was born. She did so, and again accused herself; and he gave the command for her being stoned to death, but prohibited every one from lifting a stone who was in the least impure. The Caliph put the woman to death himself. I told his Royal Highness that I regretted I had not heard the tale, that I might have replied to the Uzbeks. The Prince then requested me to give him some notes on the resources of the country about Shurukhs, which he shortly intended to visit. I gave them without hesitation. Abbas Meerza, during this interview, spoke of geography and mathematics by these names, and evinced a tolerable proficiency in the first of these sciences. He spoke of New Holland; but he did not enlighten me on one of his favourite plans, by which he purposes to consign all his brothers and nephews to that country on his accession to the crown.[9] Never was any thing more visionary. I now intimated my wishes to prosecute my journey among the Toorkmun tribes to the Caspian Sea; and the Prince, with great urbanity, assured me that I might visit any portion of the Persian dominions. He spoke of the danger of journeying among Toorkmuns; but desired his secretary to prepare a “rukum,” or order, which would ensure protection, and suggested our accompanying a Khan, who was proceeding in that quarter. He also offered a letter to his brother, the Prince of Mazanderan, and had it intimated to his son, who was then in his camp, that I would proceed in that quarter. We then took our leave of Abbas Meerza, much gratified by the interview. I cannot say that I was strongly impressed with his talents; but they evidently rise above mediocrity, and he is said to be swayed in his councils by others; he is, in every sense of the word, a perfect gentleman.

Acquaint­ances.

In the Persian camp we had many visiters, and found much to amuse us in the bustling scene. We found two of the Persian gentlemen, who had been in England, Meerza Baba, the Hukeem Bashee, and Meerza Jaffier, both of whom now sighed for the return of the days which they had passed in England. There, they were lions: here, they were among their countrymen. Meerza Baba is an intelligent and agreeable man; and, in an Asiatic, I have never seen a more perfect approach to an English gentleman, both in language and manners. I jested with him about Hajee Baba; but that work has given great offence in Persia, and the Hukeem Bashee assured me that the English did not understand the Persians. I can hardly agree with him, for I afterwards saw a good deal of Hajee Babaism in the land.

Future plans. Separation from Dr. Gerard.

Since we had entered Khorasan my fellow-traveller, Dr. Gerard, had come to the resolution of turning down upon Herat, and Candahar, and thus retraceing his steps to Cabool, in preference to advancing upon the Caspian. The main object of our journey had been now nearly accomplished, and the route of Herat, which promised him some gratification, had been travelled in safety by Lieutenant Arthur Conolly[10], an enterprising officer of the Bengal Cavalry, and all the French officers of Runjeet Sing. We now, therefore, prepared to separate, after a weary pilgrimage of nine months which we had performed together. Our feelings on such an occasion may be imagined; but we parted with the knowledge, that we had almost brought the original design of our undertaking to a close, and that both to the east and west all serious dangers were at an end. At Koochan I also permitted the Hindoo lad to return to India, along with Dr. Gerard; and, at his own request, I discharged my faithful Afghan servant, who had accompanied me from Lodiana. His name was Sooliman, a native of Peshawur. He was quite unlettered; but he had kept both my secrets and my money where there were many inducements to betray. He had proved himself worthy of my confidence; and the feelings with which I parted from him were those of unmingled approbation and regard. By the opportunity which presented itself I wrote to all our native friends in Cabool, and even to Runjeet Sing himself. It would be presumptuous to believe that the many titled personages I addressed were my friends, though their professions had been great: but, if the rulers and governors of countries and cities be set aside, there was yet a long list of good and worthy men as correspondents, whose good wishes, I do not hesitate to say, I desire. It will not be out of place to name the individuals I addressed on this occasion, since we experienced civilities and kindness from all.

CHAP. XV.
JOURNEY AMONG THE TOORKMUNS OF THE CASPIAN.

Departure from Koochan.

On the 29th of September, I bade farewell to my fellow-traveller and the officers of the Prince’s service, and commenced a journey to the shores of the Caspian. I joined Humza Khan, who had been lately appointed Governor of the Toorkmuns east of that sea, and now proceeded with a party of about three hundred persons, composed of Koords, Persians, and Toorkmuns; but the alarms for personal safety, which had so often troubled me in days that were gone, had now, I may say, vanished, for I looked upon all those around me as friends. My costume led to many mistakes among the party; and, after I had satisfied the Khan that I was the “Firingee” recommended to his care by the Prince, I felt rather disposed to mix with the others as one of themselves, since a better opportunity would be afforded for judging of the people. We bivouacked, after a march of twenty-six miles, beyond Shirwan, a strong fortress, with a deep wet ditch, that was now being dismantled by orders of the Prince. From the small number of labourers engaged on this work of spoliation, I suppose it will be soon abandoned, and that the place will rise in due time as one of the strong-holds of Khorasan.

Atruck River. Boojnoord.

We followed the course of the Atruck river, which rises near Koochan, till within ten miles of Boojnoord, when we left it running westward as a small rivulet, and crossed several mountain ridges. A march of thirty-eight miles brought us to Boojnoord, a rather large place, standing in a spacious valley, and the residence of one of the Koord chiefs, who prudently tendered his allegiance on the approach of the Prince, and now owed the possession of his fortress to his share of discretion. We here saw, for the first time, the wandering inhabitants, or Ilyats, of Khorasan, about a thousand of whose black tents were scattered around. They did not appear to differ from the Ghiljees of Cabool. On our march to Boojnoord we met the peasantry crowding in bodies to occupy their native villages. They had fled on the commencement of the war, and now returned on the success of the Prince: the poor creatures stopped to ask the particulars of the campaign; but the women and children could hardly believe us any other than plundering Koords. The year had passed away without a crop; but, if the country returns to a state of peace, it may yet become prosperous and happy. War has desolating effects everywhere; but it is fearful to be befriended by a Persian army. The enemy who opposes it fares best, since he has no billets sent to him for grain and supplies; the pittance of the obedient subject is actually devoured.

Toorkmun discipline.

Four miles from Boojnoord, we left the valley in which it is situated, and entered among hills. It was difficult to trace any range either to our right or left, but those on the south were covered with pine trees. The climate was moist and pleasant, and there were many rich and beautiful spots of cultivation among the bare hills. The vineyards of Sarewan, which were in a deep glen, are quite enchanting. Though the country was mountainous, the road was excellent; and, after a march of thirty-six miles, we reached Kila Khan, in the district of Simulghan, which is richly watered from the hills. We were now upon the line of inroad of the Tuka Toorkmuns, who engage in constant forays between Meshid and Tehran; and the mountains and roads over which we trod must ever be crossed by them. Our own party, however, consisted of two hundred Toorkmuns of the Goklan and Yamood tribe, who had served in the Prince’s army, and were now discharged: such was their share of the glories of the Khorasan campaign. We had had a specimen of their native propensities in our second march from the camp, where they met a party of villagers proceeding to sell their grapes. The poor peasants were mercilessly beaten, and the Toorkmuns pillaged the greater portion of the contents of their baskets. By the laws of an enlightened country, they might not have been blameable, if they were actually in want of food. The spoil was shared equally among them, and he who had knocked down fared no better than he who was in the rear: they even brought me a share of the captured property. It was in vain that the Khan endeavoured to discountenance these practices, for he possessed no authority over them. At length they received a salutary check at Sarewan, where the villagers turned out in a body, and knocked down a trespasser, which frightened his comrades. I secretly rejoiced at their discomfiture.

Travelling in Khorasan.

What a long Fursukh is that of Khorasan, says a traveller, who has toiled from sun-rise nearly to sun-set, and who can no longer cling to his jaded horse, but by the prong in front of his saddle. An European, who canters and gallops onwards, can form no just conception of the fatigue of a forty-mile stage in Khorasan, where every step must be walked, and there is no inn or refreshment at the end of it. “By the head of the Prophet!” said one of the party, as we neared our halting ground, “this road is longer than the entrails of Omar, for my back and my knees have lost their feeling.” I had a hearty laugh at the quaint comparison, and also sympathized in his fatigue. “Pidr sokhtu!” (Burn his father!) continued the talkative Persian, “I never was so worn out.” In our party we had several lively fellow-travellers; and, on a few days’ acquaintance, the Persian appeared to me a better sort of being in his country than abroad, where his vanity is beyond endurance.

Tribe of Gireilee.

A march of thirty-eight miles brought us to the site of a village called Shahbaz; but we had now lost all traces of inhabitants, though the country was rich. The tribe of Gireilee had in former years tilled the soil, and tended their cattle: but human beings appear to be considered in these countries as much property as horse-flesh; and Aga Mahommed Khan had transferred the whole race to Mezenderan. The rich pastures of the country lay neglected: for what peasant would seek his abode near the Tuka Toorkmuns, whose tents lie but a few miles distant beyond the hills. In the society of two hundred of these people, we even did not feel ourselves altogether safe. In all our bivouacs, I had hitherto escaped the damp ground as a bed, but I rose in the morning stiff and benumbed by humidity and dews. The sun soon dried my clothes, and good spirits (I do not mean brandy) prevented any evil consequences. We were now travelling among mountains, with alternate hill and dale, and over a wild and romantic country. There were a few stunted pine trees on the hills, but they were oftener bare of every thing but grass. All the people were kind and conversable; and man requires little else even in the arid regions of Khorasan.

A Toorkmun acquaintance.

A Toorkmun who had proffered his acquaintance, by the way asked me abruptly to tell him the news of Bokhara, recognising, I suppose, in my costume the dress of that country. He addressed me in Persian, which was no doubt as foreign a language to him as myself. “I am a Firingee,” said I; when the Toorkmun pulled up his horse, and said, “Come, do not think you can play the fool with me, for Firingees have no beards; and your shaved head and dress belie your assertion.” It was in vain that I continued to convince him of my real character. “Soonee, or Shiah, which are you?” said he. “Be it so,” replied I, “since you are determined to have me a Mahommedan;” and I repeated the names of the first four Caliphs, the watchword of the Soonees and Toorkmuns, who are all of that persuasion. “Bravo!” cried my new acquaintance; “I knew I was right;” and we journeyed together with great delight, I personating a character which had been forced upon me: nor was it sufficient that my creed was settled; the Toorkmun also fixed my country, which was Cabool. I did not allow the opportunity to pass which thus presented itself of improving my knowledge of the Toorkmuns, whose lands we were once more to enter.

Running down partridges.

My friend dashed off with great precipitation among a crowd of his countrymen, to run down a “kubk,” or partridge, which rose near us. This is an easier matter than would be at first imagined, as the number captured soon proved. These birds fly once or twice, seldom thrice, and are then picked up. The Toorkmuns were delighted with the sport, and I participated in their excitement, though I did not join in it. The long spears with which they were armed, their great activity, and the horsemanship which they displayed, gave what I imagined to be a just resemblance to their “chupao,” when in search of human beings. At a gallop, a Toorkmun cavalier leans forward on his saddle, which gives him an air of eagerness that is singularly interesting. The whole scene was worthy of the ancient Parthia, the very country that we now traversed.

A Toorkmun bard.

Among the Toorkmuns I noticed an individual loitering by the way, and humming some notes as he went, to which his leg and his arm seemed to be keeping time, while an instrument like a “sitar,” or lute, served to convince me that I had at last got hold of a character for whom I had been searching—a bard of the Toorkmuns. “Sulam alaikoom,” said I to the bard; who returned it most graciously. But, alas! our conversation here ended, for he knew no language but Toorkee, and my acquaintance was but sufficient to tell him that I knew it not. Instinct set the bard to the task which I wished; and he struck up one of the airs of his tribe; but the paces of our horses did not admit of his using his instrument. Music is an expensive accomplishment in all countries; and the bard began to interrogate me as to his reward, hinting that he must not be wasting his arts in vain. An interpreter between us informed him that he should have a good pilao in the evening; but the Toorkmun gave a glance behind him, and asked who would cook the pilao for a man who had not even a servant. Here was a hint to travel in state. The bard dropped in the rear to ask who I might be; and I did have the pleasure in the evening of giving him a pilao, and removing his doubts of my solvency. For this I had a promise of introduction to the minstrels of his clan.

Goklan Toorkmuns.

Six miles from Shahbaz we took leave of the hill and dale which we had so long traversed, and descended into a valley, which contained the source of the river of Goorgan. For about twenty miles we wound gradually through it, without the smallest marks of civilisation: but our day’s journey terminated among the tenements of the Toorkmuns, which I was delighted once more to behold. These people are of the tribe of Goklan, and amount to about nine thousand families. No scene could be more enchanting than that on which we had now entered: the hills were wooded to the summit, and the hue of the different trees was so varied and bright, as hardly to appear natural. A rivulet flowed through the dell; and almost every fruit grew in a state of nature. The fig, the vine, pomegranate, raspberry, black currant, and the hazel, shot up everywhere; and, as we approached the camp of the Toorkmuns, there were extensive plantations of the mulberry. The different groups of tents were pitched in grotesque order in the open lawn near the river; and our party halted at one of their settlements on a beautiful shelf of green turf, that lay at the base of a cloud-capped hill, clothed with the richest foliage. The Toorkmuns received their new Governor with every respect, and appropriated a certain number of their tents for his accommodation: one of these was kindly bestowed on me; and I now found myself for the first time since leaving India (I except the camp of Abbas Meerza) under the shelter of a tent, and that too among the Toorkmuns. I also received buttered cakes and melons, as their guest, and fared sumptuously.

Customs of the Toorkmuns.

On winding through the valley, we had an opportunity of witnessing an interesting sight in the welcoming of a chief, or “Aksukal,” who had accompanied us from Koochan. We had only known him as a Wild Toorkmun; and, for my own part, I had scarcely noticed him: but here he was a noble, and, what is greater, a patriarch. He had been summoned by the Prince Royal, and now returned to his home. For miles before reaching the camp, the Toorkmuns crowded upon us to bid him welcome: all of them were on horseback—men, women, and children; and several of them cried, as they kissed his hand. At length, in a shady and picturesque part of the valley, a party, which appeared more respectable than the others, had dismounted and drawn up. This was the family of the chief: he leaped upon the ground with the enthusiasm of a youth, rushed forward, and kissed in succession four boys, who were his sons. The scene was pathetic; and the witty Persians, who had before been imitating some of the actions and exclamations of the Toorkmuns, were silenced by this fervent flow of affection. Three of the boys were under ten years of age, yet they mounted their horses with spirit, and joined the cavalcade. There were no bells to ring the peals of joy which this day pervaded the Goklan Toorkmuns: nor were they required to give more certain indication of their delight. A party of their countrymen had returned in safety from battle; the clan had gathered from every quarter; and, as they took up their position in the rear, they gave to us, who were indifferent spectators, the cordial salutation of friends. The women said, “Koosh geldee” (You are welcome), and crossed their hands on their breasts, as we passed them, in token of sincerity: I never witnessed a scene of more universal joy. A horseman, more delighted than the rest, appeared with his horse sinking under a load of bread, which he distributed in cakes to every one he met, with this remark:—“Take this, it is good in the sight of God: take it, you are a guest and a stranger.” It was impossible to look on such scenes with an eye of indifference; and could I but give in more graphic language the scenes of this day among the Toorkmuns, it would excite the warmest emotion: and yet I speak of the lawless Toorkmuns, who plunder and desolate the land: so true is it, that the character of mankind is made up of the most glaring inconsistencies and contradictions.

Toorkmuns of the Caspian.

The Khan whom I had accompanied, was now busily engaged in the duties of his new occupation. He was the harbinger of good news to the Toorkmuns: for they, who plunder every one, had been themselves plundered by the Mezenderan troops, who had proceeded to join the army through their territories. The Prince had ordered a register of their losses to be communicated; and our Khan moved from camp to camp as a welcome visiter. I continued with him for four days, which I passed in pleasing observation of Toorkmun habits and customs. No opportunity could have been more favourable to the purpose, since we were every where well received by them; and I appeared in the suite of a great man. The tribe of Goklan Toorkmuns is subject to Persia, which has asserted its supremacy for the last thirty-six years. Their allegiance is unwilling, but it is complete; for they have exchanged the habits of rapine for the peaceful vocation of agriculture. They want the affluence and comfort which I have described among the Toorkmuns of Shurukhs. The Yamood tribe, which lies between them and the Caspian, have been also subdued by Persia; but the greater number of that clan, which is said to amount to twenty thousand families, enables them frequently to resist and rebel. The Goklans, however, have no political power. The Tuka Toorkmuns, which skirt, to the north, both these tribes that I have named, maintain their independence of Persia. The customs of the Toorkmuns do not differ from those about Bokhara, only that they more nearly resemble citizens. The women conceal the face below the mouth; though I cannot say that the personal charms of those whom I saw during our stay here would induce even a forward youth to sue for a kiss, or a sight of their ruby lips. Their dress more assimilates to that of Persia than those of the desert.

A Toorkmun patriarch.

In our travels from one tenement to another, I met a man of about sixty years of age, who first attracted my notice, by observing every one dismount as he advanced, and proceed to kiss his hand; for which he gave his blessing. This was a Syud of the Toorkmuns. A Persian, who had observed my watchful attention to what was passing, called out to the aged man that I was an European; and we were soon engaged in conversation. He held the unpromising name of Mahommed Ghilich, or the “Sword of Mahommed;” but the universal respect bestowed upon him had softened his manners; and age had mellowed his voice: his sentiments, too, were pleasing. He asked if all Franks were Christians; and when I told him they were, he said, “It is well to follow our own creed: a Jew, a Christian, a Mahommedan, will be one in death.” Our conversation then turned upon the Toorkmuns; and he lamented their sale of human beings, since a difference of religion afforded no just grounds for such cruelty. “It was a propensity of their race,” said he; “for their dispositions were wicked, and they listened not to his advice. But am I speaking to a ‘Firingee?’” said the aged man, abruptly interrupting himself; “I have never before seen one; and how should I in so remote a country. Where is the country of the Franks; and where is the desert of the Toorkmuns? There must be something peculiar in our destiny,” continued he to muse aloud with himself, “which has brought you and me together. Our spirits (roh) must have had intercourse in another world, to meet in this;” which was a singular remark. After travelling together for about three miles, we stopped at a mound of earth which had a pole stuck in the centre, and several of which we had already seen. “What is this?” enquired I. “It is called a Yoozka; and marks the place where some one has died or been laid out as a corpse. The Toorkmuns say a blessing as they pass the spot, and hope for the favour of the deceased. It is an old custom among us, and you will see many others as you advance.” They are not graves, but mounds or barrows raised in honour of the dead. I entertain an impression that the usage is Tatar; but I had no opportunity of further investigation. The venerable Syud was crossing to the top of a neighbouring hill, where was his home and six sons. He clasped my hand, blessed me, wished me a safe journey to my country; and consigning me to God, according to the custom of the people, we parted.

Noble scenery.

At length we cleared the valley of the Goorgan river, and debouched upon the plain eastward of the Caspian. The landscape was very imposing. To our left, the hills, now running in a range, rose up to a great height, clad to the summit with forest trees and foliage. To our right, the extensive plains, which are watered by the rivers Atruk and Goorgan, and richly verdant, were studded with innumerable encampments of Toorkmuns, and diversified by flocks and herds. In our front, at a distance, we descried the lofty mountains of Elboorz, that seemed to shut up an otherwise boundless plain. Such a scene would have delighted any one; much more a wanderer from the deserts of Scythia.

The Khan, before I took my departure, gratified my curiosity on the subject of Toorkmun minstrelsy, by sending two “Bukhshees,” or Bards, to amuse me with their lyre and lays. The instrument was a rude two-stringed sitar, to which they sung the national airs in Toorkee. They first gave me an “Attack of the Tuka Toorkmuns on the Persians;” and the following literal translation will give some notion of a Toorkmun war song:—

Toorkmun national songs.

THE TUKA TOORKMUNS TO THE KOORDS.

Lootf Ali Khan! Your greatness is gone, it is time to lead you away captive, Begler![11] It is time to marshal our forces at night, and prepare for a “chupao”[12] in the morning.

The dust of your fields shall blow away under the hoofs of the Toorkmuns.

The Tukas will bear off your daughters arrayed in velvet.

Thanks be to God, my name shall abound unto the skies.

If you know the year of the goat[13], know that I shall then plunder Meshid.

All your hopes in Khorasan shall be broken. You will now be obliged to flee to Tehran, Begler!

I have an hundred noble youths who watch you.

Nor do they lack attention; they will drag you to my presence, Begler!

Oh, Begler! I’ll bear off your guns to Khiva: your power is gone.

I’ll assemble my warriors on the plain.

If you have sense, remember my advice.

Send me a youth and a beautiful girl as a tribute.

Oh, Bhaee Mahomed![14] this is the time of my happiness.

The Koords, though a Persian tribe, are as much addicted to plunder as the Toorkmuns; and there is, perhaps, greater spirit in the following song in reply to the Tuka Toorkmuns:—

THE KOORDS TO THE TUKA TOORKMUNS.

Begler! Give my respects to the Tukas. There is a place called Urkuj.[15]

You have long enough enjoyed it.

You have sat in Urkuj for many a year. It is now time, Begler! that you should decamp.

We shall now pitch our tents on the meadows of Nisaœ.[15]

We shall sound the trumpet of retreat as you flee.

Our horsemen will capture those who attempt to escape.

We shall trample under foot those who lag behind.

We shall gaze on your lovely daughters.

Our brave warriors, clad in their armour, shall gallop over your plains.

Our soldiers will charge beyond your fort, Begler!

The walls of Akkul[15] will tremble at the report of our artillery.

I shall bring a powerful army along with me.

I shall pass beyond the plains of Kipchak.[16]

My advanced guard will dismount in the field of Maimuna.

Your people will be annihilated in the sands of the desert.

When you are driven among the sand hills,

Your feet will blister, and your mouths will be parched.

Wherever you may be, my guides will ferret you out.

When they have marked you down, we shall seize you and your families.

Oh, Dooshkoon![17] I speak thus from myself:

That plain, now so beautiful, will shortly appear to you a bed of thorns.

Quit the country of the Toorkmuns.

With these national lays closed my acquaintance with the Toorkmuns. I passed down upon Astrabad by the plain; avoiding, as much as possible, all intercourse with the Yamoods, who were not described as so pacific as the Goklans. I met several parties of them, and they offered me no incivility, though I had now left the suite of the Khan, and was travelling alone. A journey of eighty miles brought us to the town of Astrabad, from which the view is very imposing. At the base of mountains, one of which is the craggy fortress of Humawuran, the scene of Persian romance, lay the vast plain of the Toorkmuns. The Caspian could be but faintly distinguished, for it is upwards of twenty miles distant. On our route from the country of the Goklans, we passed a lofty cupola, the Goombuz Kaoos, supposed to stand on the ruins of the ancient Goorgan. It is said to have been once connected with the Caspian by a boundary line of forts styled the “Lanut Nooma,” or the “curse shower;” since every person was accursed who presumed to cross into the country of the Toorkmuns. The natives spoke of the wars and battles of by-gone years, when the rivers Goorgan and Atruk were dyed with blood; but I hope, as I believe, only in the metaphors of the poet.

Arrival at Astrabad.

In Astrabad we alighted at a caravansary; and passed two gloomy days in this “City of the Plague.” Plague. That scourge had last year devastated this town; and I sauntered without pleasure through its deserted streets. Half the shops and houses were shut, literally from want of masters; and the whole population did not exceed 4000 souls. The disease raged here with fearful violence; and from some families of ten or twelve, two or three only remained. In every instance that the tumours of the patient burst, life was spared; but not till it had left the most horrid scars as marks of its virulence: they looked like gunshot wounds. One would have almost imagined that these people had become familiarised to death, though the disease had now disappeared. The bier used for interment lay by the road-side; and I saw them washing a dead body by one of the wells in the public street, near some fruit-shops. I moved quickly away from the spectacle; and the sound of my horses’ hoofs echoed as I trod these lonely streets.

Astrabad.

Astrabad is a place of no great note. A dry ditch, and a decayed mud wall about two miles in circumference, surround it; yet there are parts in the interior, which bear no resemblance to a city, and remind one of the country. It is the birthplace of the Kujurs, the reigning family of Persia. Hanway tells us, that in the beginning of last century, it was a considerable mart for trade; but its prosperity has declined, since it has now only four caravansaries, and there are but twelve shops for the sale of cloth. Its position is favourable, being but twenty miles from the Caspian. The magnificent causeway of Shah Abbas, which still exists, also keeps open its communication with the provinces south of that sea. Its trade with Orgunje, or Khiva, is comparatively trifling; there being but one or two annual caravans of eighty or a hundred camels. The intervening country is very disturbed; goods may be conveyed there with greater safety, by passing them up the eastern bank of the Caspian, and landing in the latitude of Khiva. There is hardly any trade between Astrabad and Russia. The climate of Astrabad is humid and disagreeable. It rains so much that it is difficult to keep a mud wall standing, and a very ingenious plan has been devised to effect it. A mat of reeds is placed on the top of the wall, covered with earth, and planted with lilies, or fleur-de-lis, which grow up luxuriantly, and thus protect it from the rain. Though Astrabad be in the same parallel as Koochan, the thermometer, which there fell below the freezing point at sunrise, now stood at 60° in October. The difference of elevation solves the problem. Astrabad produces oranges, figs, lemons, and the fruits of hot countries.

Arrival on the Caspian.

From Astrabad I proceeded to the banks of the Caspian at Nokunda, a straggling village about thirty miles distant. We might have come on it sooner, but I had an introduction to the Khan of that place, and preferred seeing the Causeway of the great Shah Abbas. It is yet in tolerable repair, and appears to have been about twelve feet broad, and formed of round stones. It runs through a thick forest, where figs, vines, and pomegranates grow spontaneously. This road will, in all probability, remain, like that of the Cæsars, as the most lasting memorial of the munificent Abbas. Without it, the province of Mazenderan would be quite impervious for many months. The Khan of Nokunda received me very kindly, and was a communicative man. He was a relation of the Khan with whom I had travelled among the Toorkmuns. He gave me a Persian dinner, and many Persian compliments; and I assured him, in return, that the guest of a night was the friend of a hundred years.

Adventures on the Caspian.

The forests of Mazenderan had yet hid the Caspian; nor did I see it till the following morning, and within half a mile of its beach. What a noble sight it at length presented, after we had been so long looking for it, and travelled from Delhi to its shores. It now rolled before us like the ocean. Near us lay five or six small vessels, here called “gummee;” and the Khan and myself embarked in one of them, and sailed merrily out to sea, from which we viewed this beautiful coast. We boarded a small Russian vessel, and the whole voyage was repaid by the reception of the captain, who, on hearing I was a European, pulled off his fur cap, and had a bit of sturgeon broiled for my refreshment. I cannot say I relished it; but then, I had not had such a bow, and such society, for many a day. These vessels are all of Russian build; they carry two masts, and hoist square sails; their tackle is superior: but there were no vessels of any great tonnage then in the harbour. There is a prevalent belief, that the waters on the southern side of the Caspian have been receding; and during these twelve years they have retired about three hundred yards, of which I had ocular proof. Over the reef which forms the Bay of Astrabad, the natives informed me that the water of the Caspian is fresh, while in other places it is brackish; but as this is the embouchure of the rivers Atruk and Goorgan, it may be readily accounted for. I did not leave the Caspian without endeavouring to verify the opinions regarding its level, which is clearly below that of the ocean. A thermometer, which boils at the sea at 212⅓°, here boiled at 213⅔°, which, according to Humboldt, would give a depression of 800 feet, which is much too great. I did not, however, use proper water for the experiment, and we shall rest satisfied simply with its being a corroboration of received opinions of the depression of this inland sea.

Gardens of Ushruff.

I took leave of the Khan of Nokundu, and proceeded to Ushruff, which is in Mazenderan, and one of the favoured seats of Shah Abbas and Nadir, and which Jonas Hanway has so graphically described some ninety years ago. All the fine buildings which he mentions have been destroyed, though their architecture is such that they might have stood for centuries. There is yet enough to leave a very favourable impression of the taste of the Persian monarch; since it is evident that they have been light and chaste, and in that keeping which ought to characterise garden-houses. A superb basin, and all the aqueducts, are yet perfect, and the cypress trees have attained a great height in their advanced age. The situation of these gardens is beautiful; they command a noble view of the Caspian.

Fortunate escape.

At Ushruf we met a party of pilgrims from Bokhara and Khiva, who joined us at the caravansary. We learned from them, that the Russian caravan, which had proceeded to Mangusluk, had been plundered by the Kirgizzes, about ten days after leaving Khiva. But for the advice of the Vizier in Bokhara, we should have accompanied that caravan; and had we succeeded in passing through the town of Khiva, we should have met with the catastrophe to which I have alluded, between it and the Caspian. The pilgrims recounted the great hardships of their journey from Khiva to Astrabad, where they had experienced much oppression from the Toorkmun tribes. I had now to congratulate myself on having attended to the advice that had been given.

The plague.

After we had proceeded a mile beyond Ushruf, we found the great causeway barricaded, and a villager seated with a stick, to prevent a trespass. This was the board of health at Ushruf; for we now heard, for the first time, that the plague was raging at Saree, the capital of Mazenderan, and the town at which I had that day intended to halt. We prosecuted our journey; but rested at a village two miles from Saree, where our information of the existence of the disease was confirmed. I was now on my road to Balfurosh, and its port on the Caspian,—a place of some note, where I hoped to see more Russian vessels, and enlarge my acquaintance with this sea and that people; but I made an immediate alteration in my plans, and prepared for a precipitate retreat from the shores of the Caspian and Mazenderan. Quit the Caspian. Next morning I took the high road to Tehran, and met with rather a staggering incident as we passed outside the walls of Saree. Our road brought us into a burying-ground, where two boys were digging a grave, as we passed, for two bodies that lay near them. Such a scene filled me with horror; for the people had died of the plague: but what was our astonishment to be addressed by the grave-diggers, and beseeched, as good Mahommedans, to assist in the usual ablutions of a corpse! “You shall have five ‘sahib kurans’ (about three rupees) for your trouble,” exclaimed they. There was a silence among us; no one gave an answer; and we soon found ourselves beyond Saree, having quickened the pace of our horses. This town suffered so severely from the plague in the preceding year, that there were not now more than three hundred people in it, and most of them were persons who had recovered from the disease; since the Persians bear an impression that the plague cannot be taken more than once. There were now too few people to admit of the disease spreading; but it no doubt lurked in Saree. They informed me that it had been introduced by Balfurosh from Astracan in the preceding year, and all my curiosity to see that place vanished with the information.

Notice of the plague.

In our march we were joined by a native of Astrabad, who was proceeding to Tehran; and he gave me some account of the plague, which had raged last year. He had lost a son, and both he and his wife had caught the disease. She was nursing a child at the time; and though she continued to suckle it, the infant escaped. The disease did not reach its height till the tenth day, and was invariably attended with delirium. This person assured me, that he had the horror to see his own child dragged to the door by eight or ten cats, whom he with difficulty scared away; and affirmed it as his belief, that more people were killed by dogs and cats, or died from hunger, under the disease itself. None would approach an infected house, and no patient would even assist another. The plague and human nature are the same in all countries, and the affections and passions are never brought sooner to the test than in that devastating disorder.

Mazenderan.

Our stay in Mazenderan was now soon to close. It is a disagreeable country; and has so moist a climate, that the inhabitants are subject to fevers, agues, dropsies, palsies, and many other diseases. The people are sallow, and the children weak and rickety. It is a land of snakes and frogs; but the snakes are not venomous, being of the water species. They are to be seen twisting and turning every where, and about the thickness of a good-sized whip. Almost at every pace your horse disturbs some frogs, who scramble in vain for concealment even in a country of bushes and shrubs. So great is the moisture, that the rice crops are not cut, as in other countries. They mow the grain down near the ear, and place it to dry on the stubble; for it would otherwise rot. Mazenderan is a rich province. The sugar cane thrives in it; but they do not appear to prepare it beyond the first stage, and sell it as molasses. Cotton also grows luxuriantly, and silkworms are educated every where. The fruit is good, and much of it grows wild. There are whole woods of pomegranate trees; and the people collect the fruit, and, after drying the seeds in the sun, export them as a rarity to other countries.

Peasantry.

The peasantry, with a sickly, have yet a comfortable appearance. They tie folds of cloth round their legs and fix them with a low shoe, and lacing cords. They wade through their muddy roads with these, and tell you they are superior to boots, since they may be dried in the evening! The men wear dark clothes, and the women dress generally in red,—the two colours which I suppose are easiest made. Many of the people wear caps of felt, instead of lambskin. The houses of the country are buried in vegetation; creepers, melons, and pumpkins are every where to be seen resting on the roofs. Every house has a garden, and is surrounded by a hedge of mulberries; most of them are elevated by wooden poles to a considerable height from the ground, to prevent the bad effects of moisture. The inhabitants pass the summer and autumnal months in the hills, where they cultivate rice. They live in huts, and call such a residence “yailak,” in distinction from “kishlak,” which they apply to their permanent habitations.

CHAP. XVI.
JOURNEY THROUGH PERSIA.—CONCLUSION OF THE NARRATIVE.

Quit Mazenderan.

At the village of Aliabad, which is twelve miles from Balfurosh, we quitted the Causeway of Shah Abbas, and proceeded south to the mountains, and entered the beautiful glen which is watered by the Tilar river. We had a sight of the lofty snow-clad mountain of Dumavend before leaving the low country. This valley extends for about sixty miles, and is the greatest of the passes into Mazenderan. Shah Abbas cut a road in the rock for about ten miles, which is yet passable, though it has not suited the policy of his successors to repair it. The horses frequently sunk girth deep into the mud; and if his present Majesty knew but half the curses and maledictions heaped upon his head and beard by the mule drivers, he would assuredly repair it for the peace of his own soul. The scenery of this valley is most romantic; the hills are covered with forest trees; and the rumbling noise of the water, which was many hundred feet below the road, had an effect that was most pleasing. About half way up the valley, we crossed the rivulet by a bridge, called the “pool i sufued”, and left the rich foliage of Mazenderan.

Pass of Gudook.

We finally cleared the valley by the pass of Gudook, which leads up to the table land of Persia. The word “Gudook,” in Toorkee, means a pass. Our ascent from the dell was continued and gradual; and at Feerozkoh we were again six thousand feet above the sea. On either side, as we approached the pass, the precipices rose in grand abruptness, and the narrowness of the road had led to its being fortified in former years. This is a scene of romance, and the strains of Furdoosee, the Persian Homer. The cave of the “Dev i sufued,” or white demon, was pointed out to us, as well as the spot where he was slain by the valiant Roostum. Some fellow travellers, whom we had picked up by the way, spouted verses from the Shahnamu, and I was more than once amused with their ruminations. They did not dream of the lively imagination of a national poet, but were regretting the degeneracy of the present age, which had no giants and Roostums, as in times that had gone. The top of the pass was very cold; and in winter this is said to prove sometimes fatal to the traveller. Shah Abbas has here erected a bath and a caravansary, but they are both in ruins.

Gudook the “Pylæ Caspiæ.”

It appears to me that the pass of Gudook may be identified with the “Pylæ Caspiæ,” or the Caspian gates, through which Alexander the Great pursued Darius. Their distance from Rhages or Rei, which lies near the modern city of Tehran, is said to have been a two days’ march, and the journey is ninety miles. I have before observed that this is the greatest of the passes into Mazenderan; and we have seen that it is hallowed by Persia’s greatest muse. By this road Alexander reached Hecatompylos, from which he advanced into Parthia. On the way he attacked the Taburi; and it is a very extraordinary fact, that, in the modern coinage of Mazenderan, that province is yet denominated Taburistan.

Feerozkoh.

From the pass of Gudook we journeyed in a cheerless valley pent in by bare hills; at the end of which stood the village of Feerozkoh, under a naked rock and fort about 300 feet high. This place put me in mind of Bameean, since many of the houses were excavated in the hills, where the inhabitants keep their flocks in winter. The climate is severe, and the snow lies for five months in the year. I observed a great change in the appearance of the inhabitants, who had now red and rosy cheeks. I know not whether our elevation from the lowlands of Mazenderan, might have an effect in the boiling of meat; but it took twice the usual time to cook my pilao at Feerozkoh; nay, the water was boiled up before the meat was ready. The flesh might have been tough, and an old sheep of the flock had, perhaps, fallen under the knife of the butcher.

Cure for the taste of quinine.

It is said that the natives of Mazenderan are the most simple of all the Persians, and we had some amusement at the expense of one of our fellow-travellers, who applied for medicine to arrest an intermittent fever. I gave him quinine, and afterwards took occasion to ask him how he liked its bitter taste. “It has no taste,” replied he; for he had swallowed it along with the paper in which it was packed up.

A Koord.

We made three marches to Tehran, a distance of ninety miles, halting by the way at the hovels of caravansarais, which the traveller finds in this part of Persia, where he alights in the same room with his horse. The country was arid, bleak, and miserable, and the number of villages most limited. We had no signs of approaching the metropolis of a country. An incident occurred near Baumein, the last stage, which should not be omitted: one of my “yaboos,” or ponies, had sunk under his load, and I went into a village to hire another; I succeeded in my suit, and paid the price of the animal to a Koord with whom I made the bargain, and was about to resume my journey:—“Will you not purchase my mule,” said he, “in exchange for your worn-out ‘yaboo,’ and give me the difference?” I entered into conversation, and found that the Koord took me for a native of Khorasan, and it was therefore useless to tell him I was an European. I certainly wished for his mule, and as I looked at it he said, with considerable solemnity,—“Now, as we are both good Mahommedans, let us conclude a bargain and not cheat each other.” I added, “Be it so,” and after a little conversation we settled all matters. His mule had, as I afterwards found, a broken back, and my yaboo had an incurable disease; but then it was as apparent to the Koord as it was to myself. Such was the settlement of a bargain between two good Mahommedans, who resolved to act fairly by each other; nor is Persia the only country where such arts are practised.

Vexations of a traveller.

On the 21st of October I was astir a little after midnight, to proceed with as little delay as possible to the capital of the King of kings, but what did my speed avail me? We had not got many yards from the caravansary before one of the loads tumbled from the mule, and while putting it right another was kicked off by a horse. We had repaired these disasters in a night as dark as Tartarus, and were about to advance, when it was discovered that one of the other ponies had strayed, and, what was more alarming, the very one, on which all my notes, maps, and papers had been packed. My tongue clove to the roof of my mouth, at the announcement of such a piece of information, among thieving Koords, after all the difficulties of the journey had apparently terminated. A search of half an hour recovered the strayed animal, and I trotted on with all speed to the gate of Tehran, which I reached at noon. Arrival at Tehran. I proceeded to the mansion of the British mission and presented myself at the outer door, as a “Firingee.” I was soon met by Sir John Campbell, the envoy at this court, and spent with him and his agreeable family a few happy and pleasant days, marked by the utmost hospitality and kindness.

Presentation to the Shah.

After being introduced by the Envoy to the “pillars of the state” the cabinet ministers of Persia, I had the honour of being presented to his Majesty, on the 26th of October. Having seen the Great Mogul himself, and the monarchs of Cabool and Bokhara, with many other exalted personages, I was gratified to find myself in the court of Persia. The “kibleh alum,” or attraction of the world, (so the king is styled,) sat in a hall of mirrors, and when yet beyond the light of his countenance, we drew up and saluted. We then advanced, and again saluted; and his Majesty returned it by calling aloud, “Khoosh amudeed,” you are welcome. We now ascended a few steps, and found ourselves in the presence of royalty. “Dumagh i shooma chak ust, are your brains clear?” exclaimed his Majesty with a sonorous voice; on this we drew up in a corner opposite to where the Shah sat, and returned the compliment by a salute. Sir John Campbell, Captain MʻDonald and myself composed the party, and the ministers stood on each side of us. The Shah sat at a distance of about forty feet, and a display of crystal, arranged with as little taste as in a shop, separated us from the King of kings. The chandeliers hung so thickly from the roof, that they completed the resemblance, and before any conversation had passed we were instructed to hold our swords, lest they might fracture the mirrors let into the wall behind us. “Does he understand Persian?” said his Majesty, to one of his ministers. “Bele, bele, yes, yes,” was the reply “he speaks Toorkee, Afghanee, Hindee, Persian, &c. &c.;” though I should have been soon at fault, had the Shah selected his dialect. “You have made a long and difficult journey,” commenced his Majesty; and such was the affability and engaging manner of this illustrious personage, that I felt myself at once free from embarrassment, and in the closest conversation with the “Asylum of the World.” He desired me to enumerate the cities which I had visited, and I ended the long list by saying, that the favour of God had at last brought me to his august capital. He exclaimed in a tone of surprise, “Why, a Persian could not have done so much. But what led you to undergo the dangers and fatigues of such a journey?” I replied, that it had been curiosity. “Did you travel as an European?” I told him I did so. “It must have cost you much money;” but his Majesty had a hearty laugh when I told him that we owed our release among the Toorkmuns to two gold ducats and a little tea. “Have you taken notes of your journey?” said the Shah. “Yes,” replied I, “I have measured the mountains, examined the roads, and sounded the rivers.” “These people are lions,” exclaimed the astonished monarch. “Bele, bele,” echoed his ministers, “they are tigers, they are Roostums.” “Give me a sketch of the affairs of Cabool,” continued the King, “tell me the power of the chief and his brothers;”—with all of which I complied, adding, as a courtier, that the ruler owed his power to the Persians he retained in his interests. He made enquiries as to their tribe and number, on which points I satisfied his Majesty. The Shah then put like questions on the power of all the chiefs between India and Persia, questioned me about the road over the Hindoo Koosh, and particularly on the capability of the Oxus, which he called the Jihoon, and seemed to consider the greatest river in the world: he mentioned the deserts which it passed, asking if they could be traversed by an army. His Majesty next spoke of the people of Bokhara, and asked if they were alarmed at the approach of Abbas Meerza to their frontiers. Need I give the answer: I told the King that they trembled. He smiled at my account of the Priests or Moollahs, and gave a look of contempt, as I mouthed the name of the King, the “Ameer ool Momineen,” the Commander of the faithful. “Did you try horse-flesh while among the Uzbeks?” was the next question. I replied that I did so, and it was not unpalatable. “But how got you from among the Toorkmuns?” said his Majesty once more. “I threw the dog a bit of meat, and escaped his jaws.”

After a little break in the conversation, the Shah, with some interest in what he said, enquired for the greatest wonder which I had seen in my travels. The opportunity was too favourable in so vain a court, and I replied in a loud voice, “Centre of the universe, what sight has equalled that which I now behold, the light of your Majesty’s countenance, O attraction of the world!” The Shah gave a nod of applause, which was taken up in a buzz of approbation by the pillars of the state, and evinced the royal and ministerial gratification. “But,” continued the King, “what city did you most admire?” I required a precise answer after such adulation. I told him that Cabool was the paradise of our travels. He asked particularly for Balkh, and the modern condition of that “Am ool bulad,” or mother of cities.

“You were presented to the Prince-royal,” said the King; “And I received much condescension at his Royal Highness’s hands,” replied I; “he sent me with a Khan through the country of the Toorkmuns.” “Tell me what you say of Koochan;”—which gave me an opportunity of delighting the old monarch with the detail of his son’s success, heightened by the formidable account which I gave of the strength of the fallen fortress. “Will the ‘Naib Sultanut,’” so he called Abbas Meerza, “be able to take Shurukhs, and reduce the Toorkmuns in that neighbourhood?” “Certainly,” replied I, “they will fall at his feet.” “Will the place support his army?” I then enumerated its resources. One of the ministers, by way of adding to the information desiderated by his Majesty, stated that Shurukhs was the garden of Adam, who used to come from Ceylon (Serendib) and till it daily! I had heard the tradition, but it had not entered into my statistical details for his Majesty’s information. “What is your opinion of my son’s army,—is it efficient?” I assured his Majesty that it was so. “But tell me your most candid opinion of its merits.” I added, that the clothes and accoutrements of the troops were worn out, but that no Asiatic power could in these days resist such an armament, and that they were now flushed with success. His Majesty again returned to my own affairs, and asked whither I was now proceeding. I told him, to India. He made no further enquiries into my objects for travelling. “How did you travel in Toorkistan?” asked the Shah. I told him that my conveyance was a camel, at which he smiled. After some desultory conversation and complimentary speeches between the Shah and the Envoy, we left the presence of the King of kings with the same bows and ceremonies that we had approached it.

Futtih Ali Shah has by no means the appearance of an old man, though his age must be upwards of seventy. His voice is full and sonorous, and he sits erect, with much dignity. His dress was remarkably plain, and of black cloth, which was not becoming, nor did it show off to advantage his beard, that wonder of the East. I should not be surprized that this monarch outlived his son Abbas.[18] It is said, that he has recourse to the essence of pearls and precious stones, which he uses as tonics, to support his declining strength, and in which the Oriental faculty have great faith. The moderns apply these gems to other purposes; and the Shah of Persia deserves some credit as being one of the only persons I have heard of who turns them to a useful purpose.

Return to India.

I now found myself poised between Europe and Asia; and though I had informed his Majesty that I purposed returning to India, I had every inclination to prosecute my way to Constantinople, now distant but twenty days’ journey. Would that I had followed the bent of my inclinations; since I afterwards found that I had been summoned to Europe from that city. I felt, however, that the objects of the journey had been accomplished, and it only remained for me to return to India, and arrange the materials which I had gathered. I therefore quitted Tehran on the 1st of November, and freely admit that I did so with regret, after a ten days’ enjoyment of the friendly society which I had met.

Route to the coast.