File:A visit to the Russians in central Asia (1899) (14598107738).jpg

Identifier: visittorussiansi00phib (find matches)
Title: A visit to the Russians in central Asia
Year: 1899 (1890s)
Authors: Phibbs, Isabelle Mary
Subjects: Russians -- Asia, Central Asia, Central -- Description and travel
Publisher: London : K. Paul, Trench, Trübner & co., ltd.
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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tian church. On the ground also Inoticed the Cross upon several broken slabs.In almost every design it is possible to dis-cern a cross, but not as it is to be seen here.In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries therewere still many Christians at Samarkand, andthe Musulman architects and sculptors whoworked for the glorification of Tamerlanemust have been perfectly aware of the mean-ing of the Christian symbol, and would cer-tainly not have chosen it for the adornmentof a mosque. They, however, would not havehesitated to make use of any beautiful work ofart taken from a Christian church, any morethan to adapt the whole of a church to theirform of worship. I could not obtain any in-formation on the subject, and it did not appearto excite any interest when I mentioned it.The mosaic enamels outside the building arevery fine, and the wonderful turquoise domeand lofty leaning tower form a group of mostimpressive grandeur. The spot is lonely, andinspires solemn thoughts of the instability of
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TOMB OF TIMUK EXTERIOR), SAMARKAND in Central Asia 207 mere human glory, Europe, as well as Asia,trembled at the name of this great man. Hisname will for ever be memorable in history ;and yet, in little more than four centuries afterhis death, the splendid mausoleum erected inhis honour is crumbling away, and in thisnineteenth century a solitary traveller will feelhis spirit daunted by the gloom that is insepar-able from all that speaks of change and decay.I could have lingered within the enclosure for-getful of time but for the exasperating interrup-tion of noisy children begging and crowdinground me, so that I was obliged to retreat inhaste to my drosky and indicate to the driver,with many signs and disconnected Russianwords, the road I wished to take in order tovisit the mosques and tombs of the family ofTamerlane. The road leads through a dreary outskirt ofthe town, beside an immense burial-ground,clay-coloured and dusty and unspeakably de-pressing, spreading away as far as the ey

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