The morasses are caused by the inundations of the Görghen, which swells in spring, and often overflows its banks for miles and miles. This must also have been the case in ancient times, for it was considered advisable to build the great wall before mentioned, as a defence, at a distance of from four to six English miles from the north bank of the river; and as this was always on one of the highest parts which could be found in the plain, the parts adjoining the wall, now in ruins, constitute at the present day the safest route in all seasons of the year. And for a like reason we find [{55}] in the same vicinity the majority of the tents: we had seldom to walk an hour without falling in with these in either greater or smaller groups. I did not see the west end of this ancient construction, and am not, therefore, inclined to accord any credit to the fabulous accounts with which I was favoured. On the east end I think I really discovered where the wall began in two points; one to the north-east of Gömüshtepe, where larger accumulations of ruins, close upon the sea-shore, mark the commencement; and the second about twenty English miles to the south of the river Etrek, also near to the sea, which two lines unite a little higher above the Altin Tokmak. As for the line that takes its departure from Gömüshtepe, I was able to follow it up during two days to a distance of ten geographical miles from the west to the north-east. It is easy to distinguish it by its elevation of two or three feet above the surface of the surrounding earth. In its entirety the work presents rather the appearance of a long line of intrenchments, from the midst of which, at intervals of a thousand paces, rise the ruins of ancient towers; the dimensions of these seem to have been alike throughout.
In the direction of these walls, there are also visible other great mounds, the investigation of which I would rather leave to others, not feeling myself competent to give any satisfactory explanation or even reasonable surmise about them. Some of the smaller ones have been opened by the Turkomans, and, as I was told, there was found in the interior of a four-sided building a colossal pot, of the thinness of paper, containing blue-coloured ashes, a few gold coins, and other precious objects. Hence the wall is styled, throughout the whole country, the gold receiver (Kizil Alan). [{56}] The mounds of which I here speak must, however, be distinguished from the Yoska elevations, raised by the Turkomans in commemoration of great departed ones of their nation whom they so wish to honour. My learned guide, Kizil Akhond, was amazed at my showing so much interest in the wall of Alexander (Seddi Iskender). [Footnote 13]
[Footnote 13: The history of the great Macedonian is invested by the Orientals with all the characteristics of a religious myth; and although some of their writers are anxious to distinguish Iskender Zul Karnein (the two-horned Alexander), the hero of their fable, from Iskenderi Roumi (the Greek Alexander), I have yet everywhere found that these two persons were regarded as one and the same.]
According to Khizil, the wall had been erected by the genii (Djins), at the command of the mighty sovereign Alexander. 'Alexander,' he said, 'was a more pious Musselman than we are, and therefore all subterranean spirits, whether they would or no, owed him allegiance.' He was about to proceed with the well-known fable of Alexander's descent into the realms of darkness, when he became dumb on seeing that I was absorbed in the occupation of forcibly detaching one of the bricks: and really these bright red bricks do seem as it were fused together into one material, for it is easier to break them into two than to separate them from the entire mass.
The whole neighbourhood cannot fail to be of the highest interest to archaeologists, as there are to be found in it, not only many remains of the Greek domination, but also hidden monuments of ancient Iran civilisation; for the Arabian historians relate much to us concerning the importance of the lower Görghen, the existing ruins of Shehri Djordjan. Even the Kumbezi-Kaus (the dome of Khaus), a ruin which I only heard spoken of without actually seeing it, would also, in all probability, merit more attention than rapidly-travelling Englishmen have hitherto been able to devote to it.
I was very much surprised to see that Kizil Akhond, whom I had regarded merely as a 'savant' and not as a rich man, possessed in different spots tents, wives, and children, the different component parts of a family, the issue of three marriages. It was not until I had thus, in different places, had the honour of being introduced to fresh wives and children, that I began to understand that his little tour might possibly have other ends in view than those of a simple juridical circuit. Nor was the difference great between the manner in which he was received in his own tents and in those of strangers; the Mollah, as he was styled par excellence, was in the tents of the Turkomans everywhere at home, everywhere master. Even in the settlements of hostile tribes, he was not only treated with honourable distinction, but laden with presents: nor was I, who was here playing the part of his disciple, forgotten in the award of favour, but was presented with Namdzdjï (mats for kneeling upon when at prayer), made of felt, a Turkoman over-cloak, and a large felt cap, the ordinary headdress of these nomad tribes. Setting this upon my head, and winding around it the scarf to form the light turban, behold me now for the moment metamorphosed into a Turkoman Mollah!
When I returned to Gömüshtepe I found my fellow-hadjis, who had not approved of my excursion, very anxious on account of my prolonged absence. I enquired respecting the health of each of them. I learnt that Hadji Salih had carried on a brilliant trade with his physic; that a theft had been committed upon Hadji Kari Meszud in a mosque, that is, in a [{58}] tent that served as such, in which he had taken up his quarters. After a long search in every direction, as no discovery was made, the Ishan (priest) declared that he would at once utter his malediction upon the thief, should he not restore the stolen property. Before twenty-four hours had expired, the conscience-stricken criminal came forward, bringing with him not only the stolen property, but a present as atonement. I venture to recommend this practice to the London detectives, as a substitute for their present system.
[Tartar Raids; Persian Slaves]
I now learnt, also, satisfactory intelligence respecting a karavan proceeding to Khiva. My friends told me that the Khan of Khiva, who had been recommended by the physicians the use of the milk of the buffalo for his health, had sent express to Gömüshtepe his Kervanbashi [Footnote 14] to purchase for him two pair of these animals, which were not to be met with in his own country. This official had proceeded to Astrabad, and on his return the journey was to be at once made with every guarantee of success, as it would be under the immediate guidance of a man whose experience of the desert was unrivalled. I was astonished to find how many of my fellow-travellers, the poorest of the poor, in spite of the noble hospitality of which they had been partakers, were already weary of the Turkomans; for it would be, they said, impossible for men having the least sentiment of humanity to be eye-witnesses any longer of the cruel treatment to which the wretched Persian slaves had to submit. [{59}] 'True, the Persians are heretics, and they tormented us terribly in our journey through their country; but what the poor wretches here suffer is really too much.' The compassion evinced by my fellow-travellers, in whose own country the slave-trade is not carried on, and the imprecations they used against the Karaktchi (robbers) for their inhumanity, convey the best impression of the sufferings to which the poor captives are exposed. Let us only picture to ourselves the feelings of a Persian, even admitting that he is the poorest of his race, who is surprised by a night attack, hurried away from his family, and brought hither a prisoner, and often wounded. He has to exchange his dress for old Turkoman rags that only scantily cover parts of his body, and is heavily laden with chains that gall his ancles, and occasion him great and unceasing pain every step he takes; he is forced upon the poorest diet to linger the first days, often weeks of his captivity. That he may make no attempt at flight, he has also during the night a Karabogra (iron ring) attached to his neck and fastened to a peg, so that the rattle betrays even his slightest movements. No other termination to his sufferings than the payment of a ransom by his friends; and, failing this, he is liable to be sold, and perhaps hurried off to Khiva and Bokhara!