The caravan at last reached Bokhara, the most important city of central Asia, but which preserves to-day few traces of its ancient grandeur. Still, it possesses fine monasteries and colleges which rival those of Samarcand. These schools, founded at a great expense and sustained by great sacrifices, have given Europeans a high idea of Asiatic learning; but it must be remembered, they are controlled by a blind fanaticism. The exclusive spirit of the Bokhariots restricts singularly the circle of studies, all instruction turning upon the precepts of the Koran and religious casuistry. We do not find to-day a single disciple who occupies himself with history or poetry; if any one were tempted to do it, he would be obliged to conceal it, for attention given to subjects so frivolous would be considered a proof of weakness of mind.
Vambéry and his companions found asylum in a Tekki or convent, a vast square building, of which the forty cells opened upon a court planted with fine trees. The Khalfa, or "reverend abbot," as our Hungarian traveller calls him, was a man of agreeable exterior and gentle and published manners. He received Vambéry most graciously, and the two interlocutors opened a pompous, subtle conversation, full of reticence and mental reserves, which charmed the good Khalfa and gave him also the highest opinion of his new guest; so from his arrival in Bokhara, our traveller acquired a great reputation for learning and sanctity.
The next day, accompanied by Hadji Bilal, he went out to see the city. The streets and houses of this noble city are chiefly remarkable for their slovenly appearance and ruinous condition. After having crossed the public squares, where they went up to the ankles in a blackish dust, the two friends arrived at the bazaar which was filled with a noisy and busy crowd. These establishments by no means equal those of Persia in extent and magnificence, but the mingling of races, of costumes and habits, forms a bizarre spectacle which captivates the eye of a stranger. Persians, their heads wrapped in their large blue or white turbans, according to the class to which they belong, jostle the savage Tartar, the Kirghiz with his slouching gait, the Indian with his yellow and repulsive face, bearing upon the forehead the red brand, and, finally, the Jew, who preserves here, more than anywhere else, his distinctive type, his noble features, his deep-sunk eyes, where an astute intelligence glitters. Here and there we meet also a Turcoman, easily recognized by his proud mien and bold glance; motionless before the shops of the merchants, they think perhaps of the precious booty which the riches displayed before them will furnish for their forays.
The pilgrims received everywhere marks of enthusiastic sympathy; the foreign appearance of Vambéry excited particular admiration. "What [{394}] faith he must have," said one, "to come from Constantinople to Bokhara, and endure the fatigue of a journey through the great Desert, in order to meditate at the tomb of Baveddin!" [Footnote 62] "Without doubt," replied another, "but we also go to Mecca, the holy city by eminence, and in order to accomplish this pilgrimage we leave our business, and endure, I should think, quite enough fatigue. These people," and he pointed his finger at Vambéry, "have no business to occupy them; their whole life is consecrated to exercises of piety and to visiting the tombs of the saints."--"Bravo, very well imagined!" thought our traveller, while he cast glances which he tried to render indifferent, upon the display of Russian and other European goods exposed for sale; he often had great difficulty in repressing an imprudent emotion when he saw articles of merchandise bearing the stamp of Manchester or Birmingham. Quickly turning his head for fear of betraying himself, he fixed his attention upon the products of the soil and of native industry, examined a fine cotton fabric called Aladja, where two colors alternate in narrow stripes, silken stuffs, rich and various, from the elegant handkerchief as thin as the lightest gauze, to the heavy atres, which falls in large luxurious folds. Leathers play an important part in Bokharist manufactures, the shoemakers of the country make of them long boots for both sexes; but the shops towards which the people pressed most eagerly were those of the clothes-merchant, where ready-made garments strike the eye by their dazzling colors, for Bokhara is the Paris of central Asia, regarded by the Turcomen as the centre of elegance.
[Footnote 62: An ascetic celebrated throughout Islam, founder of the order of the Nakishbendi, to which the Hungarian traveller pretended to belong.]
When he had sufficiently contemplated this curious tableau, Vambéry asked Hadji Bilal to take him to a place where he might rest and refresh himself; and the two friends went together to a place called Lebi Hanz Divanbeghi(quay of the reservoir of Divanbeghi), where all the fashionables of the city collect. In the middle of the square is a reservoir one hundred feet deep and eighty wide, bordered with cubic stones forming a stair of eight steps to the water's edge. All around magnificent elms shade the inevitable tea-shop, and the colossal samovar, not less inevitable, invites every passer-by to take a cup of the boiling liquid. On three sides of the square, little stalls, sheltered by bamboo matting, display to the eye bread, fruits, confectionery, hot and cold meats. The fourth side takes the form of a terrace, and close by rises the mosque Mesdjidi Divanbeghi, Before the doors are planted a number of trees, under which the dervishes and meddah (popular orators) recount to the wondering crowd, the exploits of heroes, or the holy deeds of the prophets. Just as Vambéry arrived, the Nakishbendis crossed the square, making their daily procession. "Never shall I forget," says our traveller, "the impression which these wild enthusiasts made upon me: their heads covered with pointed hats, with flowing hair, and long staves in their hands, they danced a round like the orgies of witches, yelling sacred songs, of which their chief, an old man with a gray beard, intoned alone the first strophe."
The secret inquisition established in Bokhara began very soon to annoy Vambéry in spite of his reputation for sanctity. Spies sent by the government came almost every day, upon one pretext or another, to open with the stranger conversations which always turned upon Europeans, their diabolical artifices, and the chastisements which had punished the audacity of many of them. They hoped that some imprudent word would drop to justify their suspicions, but the European was too much on his guard to be caught; he listened at first with patience, and then affecting an air of contemptuous indifference, "I left Constantinople," said he, "to get away from these [{395}] cursed Europeans, who, no doubt, owe their arts and sciences to the demon. Now, Allah be praised! I am in Bokhara, and I don't want to be troubled with thinking about them."
The emir was then absent; the minister who directed the inquest, seeing that his emissaries were completely foiled, resolved to make the stranger appear before a tribunal composed of onlemas, where his orthodoxy would be scrupulously examined. He had, in fact, to sustain a running fire of embarrassing questions which would be sure some day to pierce his incognito. Fortunately, he perceived the snare in time, and changing his character, took himself the part of questioner. Urged by a pious zeal, he consulted the learned doctors on the most minute cases of conscience, wished to know the differences, often imperceptible, between the Farz and the Sunnet, precepts of obligation, and the Tadjib and the Mustahab, simple religious counsels. This artifice had complete success; many an obscure text furnished material for an animated discussion, in which Vambéry never lost an occasion of making a pompous eulogium of the Bokharist oulemas, and loudly proclaiming their superiority. Then the judges, gained to his cause, told the minister that he had committed a grave mistake. Hadji Reschid was a very distinguished mollah, well prepared to receive the divine inspiration, precious heritage of the saints.
Vambéry, free henceforth from all fear, could study at leisure the character and aptitudes of the people of Bokhara. This city, which is, according to him, the Home of Islam, since Mecca and Medina represent Jerusalem, is not a little proud of its religious supremacy. Though it recognizes the spiritual authority of the Sultan, it does not, like Khiva, blindly submit to it, and it hardly pardons the emperor for permitting himself to be corrupted by the detestable influence of Europeans. Our traveller, in his supposed quality of Turk, was frequently obliged to defend Constantinople from the reproaches addressed to him: "Why," demanded, for example, the fervent Bokharists,--"why does not the sultan put to death all the Europeans who live in his states? why does he not ordain every year a holy war against the unbelievers?" Or again: "Why do not the Turks wear the turban and the long robe which the law prescribes? Is not this a frightful sin? and also, why have they not the long beard and short moustache which the Prophet wore?"
The emir Mozaffar ed Din watches carefully over the maintenance of the sacred doctrines. Every city has its Reïs or guardian of religion, who, whip in hand, runs through the streets and public squares, interrogating every one he meets upon the precepts of Islam. Woe to the unhappy passenger taken in the flagrant crime of ignorance: if it were a gray-headed old man he is also, all business ceasing, sent for a fortnight to the benches of the school. A discipline equally rigorous, obliges every one to go to the mosques at the hour of prayer. Finally, the espionage of the Reïs does not stop at the threshold of the private dwelling, and in the privacy of his family a Bokharist takes care not to omit the least rite, or even to pronounce the name of the emir without adding the sacramental formula, "May Allah give him a hundred and twenty years of life!" It needs not to say that all joy and gaiety are banished from social life, except the momentary animation of the bazaar. Bokhara presents a sad and monotonous aspect. During the day, every one fears perpetually to find himself in the presence of a spy; in the evening, two hours after sunset, the streets are deserted; no one ventures to visit a friend, the sick may perish for want of help, for Mozaffar ed Din forbids any one to go out under the most severe penalties.