Chapter XXXVII (5)

During the reign of the Empress Catharine, the relations of Russia with the Kirghiz tended more than ever to two results which it had mainly in view: the first was to establish fixed habitations in the two hordes; the second, to secure the inviolability of caravans. The forts of Troisk and Semipalatinsk were built as trading stations, and a town was projected upon the banks of the Emba nearly one-third of the way to Khiva. This, however, was not then carried out. Indeed, notwithstanding the efforts made to tame and civilise the Kirghiz, they ever proved most pertinacious barbarians. The mosques built here and there for their use upon the steppe were allowed to fall into decay; and although caravans were no longer so invariably plundered as formerly, the attempt to erect caravanserais on the road to Khiva for their accommodation failed signally. Agriculturists were sent to their encampments from Russia; but the art of cultivation has scarcely improved to this day, nor has the extent of cultivated ground increased. Nourali, in spite of many protestations of loyalty, was always most insubordinate, and, as alleged by Russia, he encouraged his tribe in the capture of Russian slaves for the Khivan market, so as ultimately to incur the vengeance of the government, and render an expedition to the sources of the Emba necessary to recover the captives. These, however, had been transferred to Khiva before the arrival of the Russian troops, who compensated themselves for their trouble and disappointment by retaliating on their enemies after their own fashion, and capturing two hundred and thirteen Kirghiz, women and children.

Not long afterwards, the power of Nourali was much shaken by the growing popularity of an adventurer named Syrym, whose terrible and successful inroads into Russia soon procured him the support of the greater portion of the tribe. The policy of Russia on this occasion is worthy of notice. Perceiving that the ability of the usurper would render him a formidable neighbour, she offered to withdraw her protection from Nourali, and place him at the head of the tribe under another title than that of Khan. Syrym seized the opportunity thus presented of getting rid of his rival. Nourali was for no ostensible reason deposed, a new constitution formed, and Syrym was placed as representative of the assembly of the Kirghiz little horde. The middle horde had some time previous to this increased in importance under an enterprising chief, who consolidated his power so successfully, by maintaining relations with China, that he was enabled to throw off the Muscovite yoke. Meantime Catharine directed her attention more exclusively than ever to the internal organisation of the little horde. She constituted tribunals in three of the tribes, the heads of which were salaried by Russia; presents of land were made to those of the Kirghiz who would establish themselves in the empire, and permission was given them to settle wherever they pleased within the frontier; in consequence of which forty-five thousand tents wintered in Russia the same year. Syrym, however, proved faithless. He was discovered to be tampering with the Turks, who were then at war with Russia, and finally threw off his allegiance. The Empress had now gained a sort of prescriptive right to the election of the chief of the horde; her influence assumed a permanent character, and she was enabled to enforce the regulations she had imposed. It is adduced as an evidence of the improved state of things, that no less than twenty-two thousand tents, at their own request, established themselves inside the Russian frontier, where they have remained peaceable subjects ever since. The real fact that this emigration was compulsory does not alter the value of the testimony.

During all this while, the grand horde, whose remote position rendered them less amenable to Russia, had not been enjoying independence. It seemed essential to the existence of these wandering tribes that they should be protected by the countries on whose frontiers they occasionally encamped—and the grand horde had been subjects successively of the Khan of Kokan and the Emperor of China. About this time, however, a large portion of it under the Khan transferred their allegiance to the Empress, who now found her influence extending more rapidly than ever. The middle horde was shortly after compelled to follow the example. This horde had, indeed, enjoyed greater tranquillity and independence than either of the others; it had neither been exposed to such repeated attacks from without, nor suffered, except for short intervals, from the protection of Russia. Now, however, tribunals of justice similar to those in the little horde were constituted; and not long after, it was thought necessary to draw out rules for the internal administration of such of the Kirghiz tribes as were definitely comprised in the category of Inorodtsï. The Inorodtsï are defined by Russia to be “subjects of Russia, without being Russians, or being confounded with the general population of the empire;—colonists, constituting colonies of their own, with their own regulations. They are half-savage nations, to whom the empire, interested, no doubt, but always benevolent, allows the advantage of its enlightened protection.” A few extracts from the regulations drawn up for the government of the Kirghiz, may not be uninteresting, as illustrating the mode in which Russia proposed to exercise over these remote tribes that protectorate which has now become so proverbial as the distinguishing feature of her aggressive policy.

The Kirghiz are divided into volostes; these volostes into aouls. An aoul is generally composed of one hundred and seventy tents, and a volost of ten or twelve aouls. A division contains fifteen or twenty volostes. The people of these divisions may communicate with one another without permission, but the limits are fixed by the officers of the quartermaster’s department attached to the superior authority of the line. The divisions are divided into those which border with countries not dependent on Russia—the numbers of which should be as few as possible—and those which abut upon the Russian frontier, which should be as numerous as possible.

The aouls are governed by starchines publicly elected every three years. The volostes are governed by sultans; the office of sultan is hereditary. In each division there is a chamber of administration (Prikaz), constituted by a president or starchi-sultan, who is the highest authority in the division, and is elected for three years by the starchines, and receives 1200 rubles annually; two Russian members, who are named by the superior authority of the province, and receive 1000 rubles annually; and two grandees, who are also elected by the starchines for two years. Should the Prikaz disapprove of the popular election of a starchine, it cannot reject him, but refers the matter to the superior authority. None of the members of the chamber can resign without permission from the same source. The starchi-sultan ranks with a major in the Russian army. If he is twice elected, he is raised to the rank of a nobleman of the empire. The other members rank as Russian employés of the 9th class; the sultans of volostes as of the 12th. The starchines and grandees rank with mayors of communities. From this it would appear that, though all the members of the government are nominally elected, there is not one of the offices, from the starchi-sultan downwards, that is not under the control of the superior Russian authority of the province. There is another tribunal presided over by the starchi-sultan, the functions of which are to make arrangements for the safety of the people in time of trouble; to watch over the domestic interests of the community, and encourage industry; to allow none to take the law into their own hands, no plundering of caravans; and, after due trial, to punish the offenders with death if necessary. There is a commanda or company of soldiers quartered near the Prikaz to keep the peace and protect caravans, and sentinels must be kept upon the boundaries of each division. Permission may be given to trade, but Chinese merchants found in the divisions are to be sent back to the frontier. Migrations into Russia by Kirghiz are not allowed without permission, and the sultans are personally responsible for the observance of the prescribed rules, and for the public peace and security. Houses for the members and officials connected with the Prikaz are to be built together with hospitals in each division, and a barrack for the Cossacks. For the first five years no taxes are levied; and after that the Issak, or a contribution of one animal out of every hundred, becomes due—except in the case of camels. Horses must be supplied gratuitously for Cossack regiments; and the line of communication must be maintained between each division and the frontier. Intercourse must be carried on daily between the aoul and the sultan, and the latter is ordered to keep up a weekly communication with the Russian authority by a courier on horseback. The corn trade is to be encouraged, and government granaries instituted; but the importation of corn brandy, or the distillation of it in the divisions, is prohibited. The cultivation of land is to be encouraged in every way. Five or six square versts round the Prikaz is the exclusive perquisite of the starchi-sultan; the other members are entitled to different proportions, as well as every domiciled Cossack or agriculturally disposed Kirghiz, provided he steadily perseveres in his new occupation. The land then becomes hereditary. The Russian members and Cossacks are specially enjoined to set the example, and show to the ignorant Kirghiz the use of hedges and ditches. Implements of husbandry, and other assistance, will be supplied by government. Missions and schools are to be established, and the Kirghiz to be permitted to send their children to Russia for their education. The superior Russian authority is commanded to make a tour of the divisions once a year. Slavery is prohibited. During the introduction of these rules, it is to be proclaimed as publicly as possible that the whole middle horde is under the Russian rule, and that faithful subjects on either side of the frontier shall enjoy the same rights. They must also be translated, and those volostes who do not submit to them are to be rigorously excluded from contact with those who do. So long, therefore, as the little horde will not conform to these rules, they are to be regarded as strangers. The lines of Siberia and the forts along it are not to be considered as fixed establishments; but the frontier is to be gradually extended as the new regime is propagated and embraces more distant portions of the tribe. The effective movement of the frontier line is only to take place upon the decision of the supreme authority,—when a detailed and circumstantial plan is to be presented, showing a favourable conjuncture of circumstances, and taking into consideration the interests of the frontier posts and local situations. Hence it appears that “the effective movement of the frontier line” into their territory is one of those privileges which Russia, “interested, no doubt, but always benevolent,” allows to the Inorodtsï or frontier nations to whom she accords her protection. The savage character of the Kirghiz, however, has proved their chief protection; for these rules for an improved system of internal organisation, so skilfully designed to destroy their nationality, have never been fully carried into effect, and the larger proportion of the Kirghiz have maintained their independence more entirely than the inhabitants of the more civilised countries of the west.

From the account we have already given of the policy of Russia with respect to these hordes, it is plain that, while she professes to encourage and protect their advances towards civilisation, her real object is their total subjugation; and the only possible way of accounting for her efforts to make an acquisition intrinsically so undesirable, is by the fact that it is necessary to her ulterior designs upon Khiva; and therefore it is that our inquiries are more especially directed to that part of the Kirghiz steppe through which a Russian army advancing upon Khiva would be compelled to march. So few travellers have recently visited these remote countries, and the information which we can obtain from Russian sources is so very meagre, and liable to so much suspicion, that it would be impossible here to enter into a detailed or minute analysis of the state of feeling towards Russia which prevails among the tribes of the little horde, or describe the facilities for moving large bodies of troops which Russia may recently have established upon the line of march. We know that ostensibly her influence extends over all the Kirghiz inhabiting the country between the Sea of Aral and the Caspian, and that the boundary line between the Kirghiz and the Turcomans, in this direction, is merely imaginary, following as nearly as possible the 44th parallel of latitude. On the east of the Sea of Aral the Syr is the limit of Russian influence; and to the south of that, the Oozbegs and Karakalpaks extend to Khiva, forming a portion of the subjects of that government.

There are four routes by which a Russian army could cross the steppes of Tartary to Khiva. That which is best known is identical with the great caravan route from Orenburgh to Boukhara, as far as the southeast corner of the Sea of Aral, where it branches off to Khiva. The country has been accurately described by Meyendorff and Eversmann, who made the journey by separate routes to Boukhara in 1820. Meyendorff was attached to a mission, under M. de Negri, sent to negotiate a commercial treaty with the Khan of Boukhara; and as he travelled with a heavy caravan and some troops, his journey gives us some idea of the difficulties which would be opposed to an army following the same line. For the first three hundred miles these would not be very serious. The country, though partially desert and hilly, is well supplied with water. Numerous rivulets, frozen in winter, dry in summer, and abundant in spring and autumn, run down the valleys; and upon their banks enough verdure is found to satisfy the wants of the camels. The aouls of the Kirghiz are frequent where the pasture is good; and at this short distance from the frontier they are comparatively submissive, and their assistance in transporting the artillery and heavy baggage would be indispensable to the Russians. The camels, though enduring, and of a good breed, are not accustomed to heavy loads, and are excessively slow as compared with those of the Arabian deserts. Tombs are the only buildings to be seen upon the whole route, which is of the most cheerless character imaginable. The Ilek and the Emba are the most considerable streams. Beyond the latter river, the road, by a rocky pass, crosses the hills of Moughodjar, which are accounted important in the steppe country, above which they rise to a height of nearly a thousand feet. The southern slopes of these hills are utterly devoid of vegetation; and here the real hardships of the way commence. The desert of Borzouk, which intervenes between this range and the Sea of Aral, furnishes a most scanty supply of water, and is composed of deep moving sand, rendering the carriage of artillery very arduous. Many of the carts accompanying Meyendorff’s expedition were burnt for fuel, and the cattle suffered severely from want of water, which, when it was procurable at all, was generally very bitter or brackish. It was often found at a depth of five feet from the surface. Fodder was equally scarce, camel-thorn and wormwood scrub forming the entire means of subsistence for the camels. To add to the dreary aspect of the country, extensive saline deposits are crossed frequently, while occasionally the track skirts a salt lake; but few inhabitants are met with on these desolate wastes, and those not to be depended upon. The expedition was upwards of a month in reaching the Sea of Aral from Orenburgh, and, travelling along its desert shores, arrived at last at the mouths of the Syr or Jaxartes. It is now reported that a line of Cossacks has been established along the whole of this route. But we are almost inclined to doubt the practicability of permanent posts being maintained across the great Borzouk sands, which extend from the Moughodjar mountains to the Sea of Aral. Between Orenburgh and these mountains we know that Cossack posts do exist; and it is said that a garrison has been placed upon the Emba, which would serve as a cantonment for reserves. This station was first established here at the time of Peroffsky’s expedition. This general succeeded, with ten thousand men, in reaching an intrenched camp half-way between the Emba and the Sea of Aral; but here (his journey having been undertaken in the dead of winter) he was stopped by the snow-drifts; and although he successfully defended himself from the attacks of the Oozbeg and Turcoman troops, sent from Khiva to arrest his further progress, he was compelled to retreat from his critical position, after suffering the loss of more than three-fourths of his men—thus proving that the obstacles which nature interposed to prevent his invading Khiva were more formidable than those which were to be encountered from Khivan troops. Of the _object_ of this expedition we shall speak presently. Its failure has been held to establish the fact that the transport of an army across the Kirghiz steppes is utterly impracticable. This is a point, however, which does not deserve to be thus summarily decided upon. Russia has evidently not abandoned the idea of invading Khiva; and in spite of our assertions of its non-feasibility, she may prove some day that her endeavours to improve the means of communication with the shores of the Sea of Aral have not been unavailing. She has established a port at the mouth of the Jaxartes, and launched two iron steamers upon waters skimmed heretofore only by the reed canoe of the savage Kirghiz. And the determination displayed, in arrangements such as these, to make this route available, should teach us not to treat too lightly the efforts of a powerful and ambitious nation to subvert the existing political organisation of the states of Central Asia, and direct their resources against the single European power which has hitherto monopolised the lion’s share of their commerce. At the same time, it must not be supposed that the nature of the country to be traversed is the only impediment to the transport of troops. The southern Kirghiz are sufficiently far removed from the frontier of Russia not to dread its punishment; and as voluntary allegiance is never to be depended upon to the same extent as that which has been enforced, so the insubordinate tribes of the little horde, tempted by the prospect of plunder which the camp of the invading army would offer to them, might, by judiciously planned night assaults, inconceivably harass its movements; while, should they desire altogether to check the further advance of the army into their territory, burning the dry shrubs which form the only pasturage, or poisoning the few scattered wells upon which the army is dependent, are devices with which such savages are familiar. Moreover, they alone could supply the camels necessary for the transport of commissariat and artillery; and were they to desert the army in these sandy wastes, pursuit would be impossible. Hence it follows that the co-operation of the Kirghiz is essential to the success of an expedition through their country; and we gather from the universal testimony of travellers, that such co-operation is not to be depended upon. They are avaricious, treacherous, and indolent, yet possessing violent passions. For a century they have professed allegiance to Russia, during which period she has endeavoured to coax them into a state of permanent obedience by a lavish expenditure, and the gentlest treatment; by the building of mosques, houses, schools, and courts of justice; by the appointment of khans, and by the encouragement of agriculture; and she has succeeded no better than China, who uses threats instead of entreaties, force instead of presents, and who, by the most excessive cruelty, has fruitlessly endeavoured to force her commands upon the grand horde. The Russian Kirghiz still continue to misbehave and apologise as usual: they still sell slaves to Khiva, and deny their guilt; and Russia, unable to punish them, accords them her gracious protection, because she hopes to march, by their help, some day to Khiva to—recapture her slaves! Indeed, it is not to be expected that Kirghiz will respect Russians when they sell their own children to Russians themselves, and, in spite of the professed prohibition upon this traffic, continue to receive, on an average, three bags of corn for a boy, and two for a girl. No wonder the Russian trader finds this a profitable investment. The general trade, which consists of the exchange of horses, cows, sheep and goats, for grain and some of the simple luxuries of life, has decreased within the last few years. The population of the grand horde, partly subject to China, and partly independent, is estimated at four hundred thousand. The middle horde, the northern portion of which is _really_ subject to Russia, and the whole nominally so, numbers about a million; and the little horde, whose allegiance is similarly divided, contains only two hundred thousand souls.

Hitherto we have only described the route to Khiva as far as the Jaxartes, because it is probable that a Russian army would embark there for Khiva. The Jaxartes divides into numerous channels near its mouth, forming an extensive delta, covered with reeds so tall that, although Meyendorff and Eversmann visited the embouchure for the purpose, they could not catch a glimpse of the waters of the lake. These reeds, matted together, form floating islands; and the natives construct rafts and canoes with them, upon which to cross the deep broad stream of the Syr. Forests of rushes fringe the southern and eastern coasts of the Sea of Aral, which is reported to be shallow throughout its whole extent. The banks of the Syr are considered the most favoured region in the globe by the Kirghiz, who there find trees occasionally six feet high, and rejoice in vegetation of a corresponding luxuriance. Upon some islands there are singular ruins of tombs and temples. It occupies a caravan five days of incessant marching through tall rushes to cross the delta. The principal arm of the river is said by Eversmann to be eight hundred yards broad. To the south of the Jaxartes, the route passes through a wood of saxaul, a species of tamarisk, and then crosses the worst desert in this part of Asia—the Kisil Koum, or Red Sand Desert. A loaded caravan is obliged to carry with it a five days’ supply of water, and is exposed to the attacks of the Kirghiz and Oozbegs who are subject to Khiva, and who inhabit the eastern shores of the Sea of Aral. It would be madness for a Russian army to attempt this route, and therefore the port has been wisely established at the mouth of the Syr. On the arrival of Meyendorff at Boukhara, after a journey of seventy-one days from Orenburgh, fifty of the horses which formed part of the escort died of fatigue.

The second route to which we have referred, passes along the western shores of the Sea of Aral. It was traversed in 1842 by a Russian mission to Khiva, and has been described by Basiner, a German, who accompanied the expedition. He left Orenburgh in August, the most trying time of the year, but found pasture abundant as far as the Ilek; it becomes scarcer between that river and the Emba. The route followed the line of Cossack posts at first; then crossing the Moughodjar hills, it enters upon the desert of the Oust Ourt, at a distance of about six hundred versts from Orenburgh. This plateau, elevated more than a thousand feet above the sea, is perfectly level, and is composed of deep sand. For days not a hill was visible, and our traveller records passing a mound three feet high as a curiosity. Cliffs overhang the Sea of Aral, and occasionally rivulets trickle into it, but water is sometimes not met with for two or three days at a time. For three weeks not even a wandering Kirghiz was seen; and then, at the south western corner of the Sea of Aral, only the most savage specimens were met with. Still this is the route which, if there be any truth in the rumour of a Russian army being at Oorjunge, it most probably must have taken; unless they had been conveyed across the Sea of Aral by steam, as, if they had followed its Eastern shores, they would have marched direct upon Khiva. Altogether the journey lasted seven weeks, and the description here given of the route does not lead us to suppose for a moment that it would be practicable for troops, more especially if their passage was disputed.

The third route, which has ever been regarded by Russia with a more favourable eye, crosses from Mung Ishlak, on the Caspian, to Khiva, over the southern portion of this same plateau, and has been accurately described by Captain Abbott. He estimates the highest point of the Oust Ourt steppe at two thousand feet above the sea-level, and gives a picture of the route, calculated to appal the most determined general that ever led an army. Although it is only four hundred and eighty miles, or about half as far from the Russian fort of Alexandrofski, on the eastern shores of the Caspian, to Khiva, as from Orenburgh to the same place, the difficulties of the traject would be far greater. Not even the tent of a Kirghiz was seen by Abbott during an interval of eight days: herbage was always scarce; and on one occasion the wells were one hundred and sixty miles apart. But the most serious objection to this route lay in the fact, that the greater part of it passes through the country inhabited by the tribes of Turcomans, which are subjects of Khiva, and a far more courageous and enterprising people than the Kirghiz. For a lengthened period the troops would be obliged to sustain the attacks of a most pertinacious foe, in addition to the frightful hardships incidental to the route. Caravans, no doubt, prefer coming from Russia by Astrakhan and Mung Ishlak, to going round by Orenburgh; but the requirements of a caravan are very different from those of an army, and not until every soldier is supplied with a camel can the same rules be made applicable to both.

The fourth and last route is that which Mouraviev followed, in an expedition which he made to the country of the Turcomans, and afterwards to Khiva, at the desire of the Russian government, in 1819–20. The objects of this mission, undertaken a very short time before that of M. de Negri to Boukhara, throws considerable light upon the policy of Russia in these states. After the fatal termination of Prince Bekevitch’s expedition, it became evident that, without propitiating the Turcomans, it would be impossible to maintain friendly relations with the countries lying beyond them; and in 1813, M. Rtichichev, the general then commanding in Georgia, sent into Turcomania Jean Mouratov, an Armenian merchant of Derbend, who, carrying on commercial transactions at Astrabad, had preserved relations with that country. At this period the Turcomans were an independent race, at war with Persia, and their alliance with Russia would prove a most opportune assistance to this latter power, who would thus command the whole northern Persian frontier. The proposal made by the Russian envoy for such an alliance, was eagerly received by the Khan of the Turcomans, and deputies sent to treat with Rtichichev. They found him at Gulistan, in Karabagh, concluding peace with Aboul Hhussein Khan. The Persian plenipotentiary, perceiving at once the danger of the proposed alliance between the Russians and Turcomans, objected to treat unless it were abandoned. This was agreed to by Russia; and many of the unfortunate Turcomans, feeling they were no longer able to resist Persia, submitted to that power, giving hostages to insure their future good behaviour. The Khan, however, with many followers, retired to Khiva for shelter; while another portion of the tribe took refuge upon the shores of the Caspian, in the bay of Balkhan, where they were beyond the reach of a Persian army—and they have ever since not only maintained their independence, but have become the most successful slave-dealers in this part of the world. Five years after the treaty of Gulistan, and while still at peace with Persia, Russia, anxious to secure the alliance of a tribe whose hostility to that power would materially affect the existing state of their mutual political relations, deliberately, and in defiance of an express stipulation to the contrary, reopened communications with the independent portion of the Turcoman nation, and Major Ponomarev and Mouraviev were sent to negotiate the act of treachery. The following passage from Major Ponomarev’s instructions may serve to illustrate their general character:—“From address in your conduct, the most favourable results may be anticipated; and upon this point the knowledge which you have of the Tartar language will be most useful. In your character of European, do not consider that flattery is a means which you cannot employ. It is very common among Asiatic nations; and although it may cost you something, you will find it to your advantage not to fear being too lavish of it. Your residence among a people who are almost altogether unknown to us, will furnish you, better than my instructions can, with light sufficient to guide you. As I believe in your capacity and zeal, I flatter myself that this attempt to form amicable alliances with the Turcomans will not be without success, and that the knowledge you will acquire of the country will facilitate the ulterior designs of government.” The first Turcoman encampment visited was at the southeast corner of the Caspian, near Cape Serebrenoi. The Turcomans were delighted at the prospect of a Russian alliance, and of seeing a fort built on Cape Serebrenoi. “We will have revenge,” they said, “on the Persians for their robberies. We do not know how to construct a fort; but when we make a general call to arms, we can bring ten thousand men into the field, and beat the Persians. Only five years ago we cut their Sardars to pieces near here, and carried away their cattle.” It is clear that if Major Ponomarev was prone to be too sparing of flattery, he did not scruple to betray to the Turcomans the ultimate designs of his government upon its allies the Persians. The Turcomans are agriculturists; they also possess large flocks and herds, and, from their proximity to the Persian frontier, have attained some little degree of civilisation. They dress like Persians, and have adopted many of their manners and customs; but they are easily impressed by superior intelligence and civilisation, and Mouraviev anticipates no obstacles, so far as they are concerned, to the movements of troops. The route to Khiva is tolerably well supplied with pasture and water for the first few days after leaving Krasnavodsk; but then the same terrible desert must be crossed that in every direction divides Khiva from Russia, and for five or six days water is unprocurable. The nature of the country is similar to that already described; but this is the shortest of the four routes, Mouraviev having accomplished it in seventeen days. At Krasnavodsk, as at Alexandrofski, the Russians have built a fort; thus having a starting-point for each of the routes to Khiva. The ostensible motive for building the two forts on the Caspian, was to protect the Russian fishermen from their Turcoman allies, who occasionally sell them at Khiva as slaves.

So long, indeed, as stray Russians continue to be kidnapped by the frontier tribes, will the Czar have a fair excuse for waging war, not only with those tribes themselves, but with the nations to whom his subjects are sold as slaves. He will continue desirous to extend the frontier of his empire, simply because he cannot set at liberty these unfortunates without doing so. Such was the object of Peroffsky’s expedition; the origin of which, as told to Abbott by the Khan of Khiva, is illustrative of what we have been saying. It was to the following effect: During the war between Khiva and Boukhara, about thirty years ago, a rich caravan, escorted by two hundred infantry and two guns, was sent by Russia to the latter state. To reach its destination, however, it was compelled to pass through part of Khiva, or Khaurism, as the whole country is called. The Khan, fearing that so desirable an acquisition might be used by his enemy against him, politely intimated to the Russian commander his objection to the further advance of the caravan. In spite of this prohibition, the latter attempted to force a passage. Khivan troops were sent to oppose him in the Kisil Koum, where they inflicted serious loss, compelling the troops to retreat to the Russian frontier, and plundered the caravan. Fifteen years afterwards the Russians built the fort of Alexandrofski, in what was really Khivan territory, and soon after seized some Khivan caravans trading in Russia, and retained five hundred and fifty merchants as prisoners. Upon her ambassador being sent to demand their release, the Khan was informed that he must first release all the Russian slaves. As an earnest of his intention to do so, he sent six to Russia, demanding an equal number of Khivans. The Russians were retained, and the ambassador’s brother imprisoned, but no Khivans were released. Upon this a third ambassador, with a hundred and twenty captives, were surrendered, but no answer was returned. “I therefore,” said the Khan, “perceived that Russia was only playing upon my credulity. It is six months since the return of my last ambassador.” At this very time there was an intrenched camp on the Emba, and an advanced post half-way between that river and the Sea of Aral. As we before remarked, the snows, and not the Khivans, rendered that expedition fruitless; and further attempts of a similar nature were put a stop to by the gallant exploit of Sir Richmond Shakespeare, who released nearly five hundred Russian slaves in Khiva, and conveyed them safely to St Petersburg.

The slave traffic, however, still continues; and in 1842 Danielevsky was sent to Khiva, upon the mission to which we have already alluded, charged with obtaining the release of the captives then in slavery, and securing the inviolability of caravans to Boukhara, together with certain privileges for merchants trading in Khiva. We have no information as to the secret objects of the expedition, or how far it may have been successful; but this is certain, that Russia does not need an excuse for invading Khiva, and has been paving the way for an occupation for many years. We have not space now to describe the condition of this country, the most savage of all the states of Central Asia; but, from the description of English as well as Russian travellers, it cannot be expected to offer any very serious resistance to Russian arms. The army is estimated by Abbott at one hundred and eight thousand men. It consists entirely of cavalry, and is furnished by the settled population at the rate of one horseman for fifty chains of land, and by nomades at the rate of one horseman for four families. The Oozbegs are the bravest of these, and compose nearly half the army; still, the encounters they have already had with the Russians prove that they are no match for disciplined troops; and if ten thousand men, in good condition, were landed upon the southern shores of the Sea of Aral, the independence of Khiva would be gone. It remains to be proved whether this is a possibility. The difficulties of marching an army across the Great Borzouk to the embouchure of the Syr have been already noticed, and do not seem altogether insurmountable. The Oxus is too shallow to allow of their being conveyed up its stream, and they would be compelled to disembark in the face of a whole population prepared to receive them. Mouraviev calculates upon a rising among the slaves in the event of any such invasion. But the mode which Russia would most probably employ to possess herself of Khiva, would be by exciting Persia or Boukhara to hostilities with that state, and then offering it her protection. Spring or autumn are the only seasons of the year at which the expedition could expect to make a successful traject of the steppes. Khiva, though a small state, is capable of being made a productive acquisition. Its annual revenue amounts to about £300,000. At present it furnishes scarcely any articles of export, and carries on a comparatively small trade with Russia. Boukhara is the great Eastern emporium; but the traffic is much intercepted by Turcoman banditti, who are subjects of Khiva. The aspect of Khiva, after a journey over the steppe, which in every direction surrounds it, is most inviting. Canals intersect the country, forming little islands, upon which castellated houses are situated; tropical produce is abundant and luxuriant; vegetation affords a grateful relief to the eye of the weary traveller. The most fertile portion is about two hundred miles long by sixty broad. The entire population amounts to 2,500,000. In winter the cold is severe; and though in the latitude of Rome, the Oxus is frozen over.

Having thus attempted to relate the mode by which Russia has extended her influence over those tribes whose furthest wanderings form the uncertain boundary which separates her subjects from the nomades of Khiva, and having described the nature of the country, and of the inhabitants through which a Russian army invading that state would be compelled to march, it is time to consider shortly what the object of such a campaign would be, and what its probable results. It is evident that, of all European nations we alone could be directly interested in such a movement on the part of Russia; but it is equally plain that, even should a Muscovite army succeed in occupying Khiva, its farther advance through Caubul and the Hindoo Khoosh is an utter impossibility. Bjornstjerna, the Swedish general, in his work on the East Indies, says it will require four campaigns before a Russian army could possibly arrive at the Indies by this route; and, indeed, the slightest acquaintance with the nature of the country to be traversed, will be sufficient to justify our discarding as absurd the notion of a Russian army invading India from Orenburgh and Khiva. But this consideration does not divest of their importance the designs of Russia upon Khiva, but should rather lead us to discover what those motives really are which induce her to entertain them at all; and a due appreciation of the present position of Russia in the East will quickly enable us to perceive why, while repelling her aggressions in the West, we should not neglect to watch her movements in that part of the world in which our own interests are more nearly affected. The tendency of those movements has not been altogether concealed. Mouraviev says, unreservedly—“Masters of Khiva, many other states would be under our rule. The possession of it would shake to the foundation the enormous commercial superiority of those who now rule the sea.” It is, therefore, not the invasion of India which is anticipated, but the acquirement of that influence over the neighbouring states which would have the effect of undermining the power of Great Britain in the East. The states here alluded to as bordering upon Khiva, are Boukhara, Caubul, and Persia. Supposing Russia to be at Khiva, so long at least as she was confined to that remote and inaccessible country, the possibility of her alliance with Boukhara and Caubul against England can scarcely be entertained. The barbarian rulers of these distant people are far too suspicious of so powerful a neighbour, and too ignorant of the relative power of European states, to join in a war between two great Christian empires, the objects of which they would not understand, and which they would conceive might probably lead to the extinction of Mahomedanism. While allowing that the conquest of Boukhara is possible, its acquisition would not facilitate the designs of Russia against India, for the intercourse between the two countries is unimportant, and the mountain ranges by which they are separated are almost impassable. The deserts which intervene between Khiva and Caubul, the mountainous nature of this latter state, and the bravery of its inhabitants, would render its conquest by a Russian army out of the question, as our own experience may testify. Persia, then, is the only state which would really be placed in imminent peril by the occupation of Khiva by the Russians, and it is the only state whose independence is of vital importance to our Eastern interests. “The independence of Persia,” writes the author of the pamphlet we have already quoted, “is the only apparent obstacle to a position by Russia which would enable her to destroy in Asia the power of the Sultan, already shaken in Europe; to annihilate our commerce in Central Asia; to force us to diminish our revenues, and largely to augment our expenditure in India, where our finances are even now embarrassed; to disturb the whole system of government in that country during peace; to threaten it with invasion in war; and to oppose to our maritime and commercial superiority her power to shake our empire in the East.” If, then, we admit the view, here so ably expressed, to be correct, it only remains for us to consider how the taking of Khiva would be instrumental towards the subversion of Persian independence, and how we may best take advantage of the existing state of our relations with Russia, so as to relieve ourselves for ever from the anxiety arising from this source. The frontier of Khiva is conterminous with that of Persia from Herat to Astrabad, for a distance of four hundred miles. If Khiva became a Russian province, the whole northern frontier of Persia, from its most easterly to its most westerly point, from Boukhara to Turkey, would form the southern boundary of the Russian empire. Already has the Czar despoiled Persia of territory equal in extent to the British Islands, but hitherto he has been able to threaten her upon the western shores of the Caspian alone. It was the object of Mouraviev’s mission to Turcomania to induce the Turcomans to create a diversion upon the opposite coast, and, crossing the Attruck, to invade the province of Astrabad. That project would be rendered still more feasible by the possession of Khiva, whose influence extends more or less over the whole of Turcomania. The most bitter enmity has ever existed between these tribes and the Persians, fostered by the fanaticism consequent upon their profession of opposite Mahomedan creeds, and they would gladly seize this opportunity of avenging themselves on a power which has incessantly persecuted them, while even Caubul might be incited to join in a crusade against the heretical Sheas. The long-coveted provinces of Ghilan, Mazenderan, and Astrabad alone separate the Transcaucasian provinces of Russia from Turcomania and Khiva. Their ports are at the mercy of the Russian fleet on the Caspian; and if, while the Turks are being conquered at the one end of the frontier, the Khivans are being subjugated at the other, Persia must, in her turn, submit to the omnipotent power from the north, and her most fertile provinces will be added to the catalogue of “All the Russias.”

But if, on the other hand, by a prompt conveyance of troops to the seat of war in Georgia, and a strict blockade of the eastern shores of the Black Sea, we are able, in conjunction with the Ottoman and Circassian armies, to drive out the Russian forces at present occupying them, we shall hear no more rumours of a Russian army being at Khiva. A Russian army in Khiva, unsupported by an army in Armenia, would find itself in a particularly useless position; and, even in connection with the Affghans and Turcomans, could hope to gain no advantage over a power who, now that the tide of Russian aggression had been stayed, no longer believed in Russian omnipotence, as it saw with amazement that the allied powers of Europe had been able to maintain the tottering independence of plundered and enfeebled Turkey.

The conclusion, then, to which our consideration of the present state of the acquired provinces in Asia has brought us, seems to be, that they have been acquired only as a necessary prelude to the annexation of another and more important country;—that, notwithstanding the judicious treatment of the Kirghiz, their internal condition is by no means satisfactory, while the natural obstacles which their country presents to the transport of troops are almost insurmountable;—that even if the conquest of Khiva were achieved, it would be dangerous only to the British possessions in the East indirectly, or through the influence thus exercised upon Persia;—that this influence can only exist so long as the Russian arms in Armenia are successful;—that, in fact, the extension of the frontier line of Russia to the east of the Caspian must be regulated entirely by its progress to the west of that sea;—and that it is in the power of this country to check that progress at once, and thus nip in the bud her long-cherished designs upon Persia, and her deeply-laid schemes for the appropriation of those sources of wealth and power in the East, which have so materially contributed to raise this country to her present high position among European nations.

DEATH OF PROFESSOR WILSON.

It is one of the painful duties which devolve on those connected with a work like the present, to be called on from time to time to commemorate the removal from this earthly scene, of those by whose original and inventive minds its peculiar character was impressed, or to whose genius and labours in after life it owed its continued influence and reputation. More than once that melancholy task has been ours, for Death has made more than his usual gaps in the ranks of those who were associated with the rise of this Magazine and its early success. But the greatest and most distinguished of that gifted band, whose name has been identified with it from first to last, had till now been spared;—withdrawn, indeed, for some time from those circles which he had enlightened and adorned—and already surrounded by some shadow of the coming night, but still surviving among us as a link connecting the present and the past, and forming the centre of a thousand sympathising and reverential associations. He also has at last been gathered to his fellows. Professor Wilson expired at his house in Gloucester Place on the morning of the 3d April 1854. Born in May 1785, he was thus in his sixty-ninth year when he died;—not prematurely taken, it may be said, for he had nearly touched the period which is proverbially allotted as the measure of human life, yet passing from among us long before he had attained that advanced old age, which, when united with health, wisdom, and worth, seems to afford one of the happiest conditions of existence, and of which, in his case, the vigour and elasticity both of his mental and bodily frame, had seemed to human calculation to promise the attainment. It is consolatory to think that his period of seclusion and sickness passed in tranquillity both of mind and body; not perhaps painless, yet without acute or prolonged suffering;—the bodily energies waning gently, like the twilight, and the mind, though clear, partaking of that growing languor which had crept over the frame with which it was associated. As a proof of how long his mental vigour and capacity of exertion survived the effects of physical decline, it may be mentioned that two of the papers entitled “Dies Boreales,” the last of a fine series on Milton’s _Paradise Lost_, were written by him in August and September 1852, some months after the occurrence of that calamity by which his strong frame had been stricken down; papers written with his usual fine perception and impressive diction, but in a hand so tremulous, so feeble and indistinct, as to prove the strong effort of will by which alone such a task could have been accomplished. These were the last papers he ever wrote: they want, as is evident enough, the dazzling splendour of his earlier writings: they do not stir the heart like the trumpet tones of his prime, but they breathe a tone of sober grandeur and settled conviction; and these subdued and earnest words, now that we know them to have been his last, sink into the heart, like the parting accents of a friend, with a melancholy charm.

We leave to others, and in another form, the task of delineating the character of Professor Wilson as a poet, a novelist, a philosopher, and a critic: our more limited object is to speak of him only in connection with this Magazine, of which he was so long the animating spirit; to recall and arrest for a moment the lineaments of the man as he first appeared to us—as we were familiar with him in after life—and to embody in a few words our sense of what he has done for literature and for society, through the pages of that publication, in which, unless we greatly err, posterity will recognise the richest outpourings of his genius, and in which may be traced all the moods of his changing mind—from the first wild and sparkling effusions of youth, through the more matured creations of his manhood, down to that period when even genius takes a sober colouring from the troubles of life, and all those vivid and truthful pictures of the world around us begin unconsciously to be imbued and solemnised by the prospects of another.

When we first saw Professor Wilson—now more than three-and-thirty years ago—no more remarkable person could have attracted attention. Physically and mentally he was the embodied type of energy, power, and self-reliance. The tall and elastic frame, the massive head that crowned it, the waving hair, the finely-cut features, the eye flashing with every variety of emotion, the pure and eloquent blood which spoke in the cheek, the stately lion-like port of the man,—all announced, at the first glance, one of Nature’s nobles. And to the outward presence corresponded the mind within; for rarely have qualities so varied been blended in such marvellous and harmonious union. The culture of English scholarship had softened the more rugged features of his Scottish education. The knowledge of life, and sympathy with all its forms, from the highest to the lowest, had steadied the views and corrected the sentimental vagueness of the poetical temperament: a strong and practical sagacity pervaded, and gave reality to, all the creations of his imagination. Extensive and excursive reading—at least in English literature and the classics—combined with a singular accuracy and minuteness of natural observation, had stored his mind with facts of every kind, and stamped the results upon an iron memory. Nature and early training had so balanced his faculties that all themes seemed to come alike to his hand: the driest, provided only it bore upon the actual concerns of life, had nothing repulsive for him: he could expatiate in the field of the mournful as if it were his habitual element, and turn to the sportive and the fantastic, as if he had been all his life a denizen of the court of Comus. The qualities of the heart partook of this expansive and universal character. Affections as tender as they were impetuous, checked and softened the impulses of a fiery temper and vehement will, and infused a pathetic and relenting spirit into strains of invective that were deviating into harshness. That he should have been without warm dislikings, as well as warm attachments, would imply an impossibility. But from everything petty or rancorous he was absolutely free. Most justly was entitled to say of himself, that he never knew envy except as he had studied it in others. His opposition, if it was uncompromising, was always open and manly: to the great or good qualities of his opponent he generally did justice from the first—always in the end; and not a few of those who in early life had regarded him merely as the headlong leader of a partisan warfare, both in literature and politics, came to learn their mistake, to reverence in him the high-toned and impartial critic, and to esteem the warm-hearted and generous man.

His conversation and his public speaking had in them a charm to which no other term is applicable but that of fascination, and which, in the zenith of his powers, we never met with any one able to resist. While his glittering eye held the spectators captive, and the music of the ever-varying voice, modulating up and down with the changing character of the theme, fell on the ear, and a flood of imagery invested the subject with every conceivable attribute of the touching, the playful, or the picturesque, the effect was electric, indescribable: it imprisoned the minds of the auditors; they seemed to fear that the sound would cease—they held their breath as if under the influence of a spell.