THE TOMB OF TAMERLANE, SAMARKAND
The Registan is the heart of ancient Samarkand. Prior to the advent of the Russians pardon and punishment were dealt from it to the people by their rulers, executions performed and wars declared, as the authorities pleased. Even up to the present day the Registan has preserved in some degree its importance as a popular tribune. From it self-constituted orators, holy men and politicians, expound their doctrines before a people gathered together from the most distant corners of the Continent of Asia. The Registan is only one feature of this delightful city; for here, too, are the stately ruins of the Bibi Khanum, tomb of the wife of Timur, and the Gur Amir where Timur’s remains lie amid a scene eloquent in its simple grandeur. Although, unfortunately, this building has been spoilt by attempts at restoration, its encrusted tiles are as beautiful as when they were made, 400 years ago. Here, too, is the resting-place of the Shah Zindeh; and in its Urda or ancient citadel, now a weak, bastioned fort, is the Kok Tash—the coronation-stone of the descendants of Timur. The charm of the Gur Amir is supreme. Within its dome, before the horse-hair standard, the sheer force of association and the infinite suggestion of the spot make one feel the great presence of this renowned soldier. Beneath the cupola there is a nephrite cenotaph; perhaps, as Colonel C. E. de la Poer Beresford has said, the largest block of green jade in the world.[5] Close to it other tombs, lighter in colour, are erected to the memory of Ulug Beg and Mir Sayid, Timur’s grandson and tutor. Around these is a carved gypsum balustrade and in the crypt below, under a simple brick-tomb, lies the vanquisher of Toktamish Khan, of Sultan Bayazid, of Persia, the Caucasus and India—Timur himself.
SAMARKAND—THE HOUR OF PRAYER
In its economic aspect Samarkand occupies a very important position. Although scarcely serving as a mart to the produce of British India and Afghanistan, it is nevertheless a great emporium of trade. The roads, leading to the town or from it, as the case may be, are an index of its wide-reaching commercial influence. They run from Samarkand to Karki on the Amu Daria; and to Tashkent viâ Jizak; while Khojand, Khokand, Namangan, Andijan, Margelan and Osh are all in direct communication with it. Caravans from the east and north, from Persia and from China, carts perched on two gigantic wheels or transport bullocks laden with skins, even sheep carrying small packages—all are impressed into service and seem to be revolving in a constant stream round Samarkand. There is a steady traffic and the numerous bazaars are the centre of a brisk trade in skins and pelts. Unlike the bazaars of Bokhara, along the sides of which the merchants have their stalls, the passage-ways are open to the heavens. After the wonderful picture of Asiatic life presented by Bokhara, there are those who complain of a feeling of disappointment at the more subdued current which flows through Samarkand. Nevertheless the town has a charming setting. The snow-peaks of the Hissar chain and the curtain of enchanting fields and spreading vineyards, which hides the hideous aspect of the Kara Kum, add to the pleasure which is derived from the delicate mingling of the colours of the street life. There is, indeed, a very special type found in the bazaars of Bokhara and Samarkand. Dressed in the choicest of silks, so soft that it suggests the rustle of the wind through the peach-trees and dyed in tones of yellow, green and brown, in shades of magenta and purple, in a note of blue reflecting the sky or touched with the blush of a red rose, are men of fine stature. They move with their long-skirted gowns clasped at the waist and their silken trousers tucked into brown, untanned boots, the seams of which are delicately embroidered. Every individual reserves to himself a most exclusive manner, representing the embodiment of dignity. There is such an air of contentment about the gaily-clad crowd as it passes from stall to stall; such perfect self-possession, suggested humility and independence that the difference in size between Bokhara and Samarkand goes unnoticed; the atmosphere being no less pleasing, the picture no less acceptable, in the smaller city than in the capital.
