advance; and at length the invaders drew near to Tashkent, the chief city of the khanate, with eighty thousand inhabitants, situated in a valley adjoining the upper Jaxartes, and nearly six hundred miles from the Russian starting-point at the mouth of that river. Or if, more correctly, we date the military base of the Russian expedition at Orenburg, the flourishing city of Tashkent, which they were thus approaching, was distant from that base nearly twelve hundred miles. Immediately after the capture of Chimkent, and before the year 1864 had closed, General Tchernayeff advanced in a reconnoitring expedition towards Tashkent, and finally made a sudden assault upon that city, in which he was repulsed. Six months afterwards (July 1865) he stormed two other of the greatest powers of the world. The first military expedition in central Asia undertaken by Russia during the present century, or indeed since the failure of Peter the Great's expedition against Khiva, was in 1839. And Khiva was again the object. But this time the advance was made, not as before from the eastern shores of the Caspian, but by a long march from the extreme northstarting from Orenburg, and marching southwards by the western side of the Aral Sea. General Peroffsky set out with forty-five hundred fighting men, and twenty-two pieces of artillery, and, besides horse-transport, he took with him ten thousand camels, with two thousand Kirghiz drivers. But when he got only half-way to Khiva, and before the main body had even seen the enemy, the expe- the city with a loss of only about a hundition had to retreat, having lost two- dred in killed and wounded, in which thirds of the troops, and nine thousand number there were no officers; and Tchercamels, besides an immense number of nayeff became known in the west as the horses. conqueror of Tashkent." It was only about sixteen years ago Thus, advancing in the south-easterly that the real and continuous advance of course from Orenburg, first to the Aral Russia began. By that time the head of Sea, and thence up the river Jaxartes — the Aral Sea had been reached, and Fort in a diagonal line across the western Kazalinsk had been erected at the mouth part of central Asia-the Russians by of the Jaxartes. And that great and nav- the end of 1865 had acquired the whole igable river opened a highway through the country lying to the north (or rather steppes and deserts up to the distant north-east) of the Jaxartes, and westward states on the lowlands at the foot of the up to the foot of the lofty mountain chain great mountain-range which divides Asia which divides central Asia. Pursuing in its central region. "The Russian fron- this south-easterly line of advance, they tier," said Prince Gortschakoff in sub- next came upon the little state of Khokan, stance in 1864, "cannot remain where it near the head of Jaxartes River, and lying is. At present it borders only with law- among the highlands of the great dividless nomadic tribes, with whom it is iming chain; and the annexation of this possible to establish settled relations. remote corner in 1866, completed the We must of necessity go on until we reach advance in this direction, and carried the the settled states, with whom we can enter Russian frontier southwards to the Terek into peaceful commercial relations, profita- Pass and the plateau of Pamir-overble to both parties. And there and then looking Kashgar and Yarkand beyond the we shall stop." And so, up the course of mountains. The Russian line of advance the Jaxartes marched the Russian troops. then turned due westwards, bending back But the settled states which they were in the direction of Khiva and the Casapproaching did not relish this invasion pian. The annexation of Tashkent and of a region over which their dominion then Khokan had brought the Russians upon extended. Thus it happened that, when the eastern front of the large state or the Russians had advanced some two hun- khanate of Bokhara. This khanate is dred miles up the Jaxartes River, they protected in the north by the Kizzil Kum found the Khokandian troops guarding the desert, which. separates it from the lower frontier town of Ak Mechet. The Khokan- course of the Jaxartes River. But the dians were defeated, and there the Rus- Russians had passed round this desert in sians built Fort No. 2, or Peroffsky. their south-easterly advance, and now Other two hundred miles were over- came upon the state of Bokhara from the passed, and the town of Hazret (now rear. The state of Bokhara consists of called Turkistan) fell before the Russian the broad and fertile oasis along the attack. General Tchernayeff was now course of the Zarafshan River, and the the hero of the advance. Chimkent was Russians were now in possession of the captured (November 1864) by a further highlands from which the Zarafskan deVOL. XXXII. 1615 LIVING AGE. scends. As the easiest route, however, | Asia- namely, from the Caspian to the they marched across the narrow desert which separates the upper Jaxartes from the watershed of the Zarafshan, and then marched westwards down the course of that river to Samarkand and Bokhara. The Bokariot army was scattered to the winds at the battle of Zerabulak in July 1868, Samarkand was occupied, and the ameer of Bokhara became à feudatory of the czar. Roof of the World—is now really, although not wholly in name, under the dominion of the czar. All the states have been conquered. A quadrangular mountain region, formed by the Roof of the World and the lofty mountain-ranges running westward from it, down which flow the head-waters of the Oxus, separates the Khokandian frontier of Russia from the Hindoo Koosh. Where these mountain ridges sink into the plains, a straight and easy road leads southward from Samarkand across the Oxus to the Bameean Pass. But westward from this point, beginning about Balkh, the Kara Kum desert, lying to the south of the Oxus, extends all the way to the Caspian, covering the northern frontier of Persia. The Russians are now working round this desert, by their expeditions against the Tekke Turcomans, and will find their best road to India up the valley of the Attrek River. In a second article we shall complete our description of central Asia, dealing chiefly with the eastern part, where the Muscovite and Mongolian empires meet in rivalry, and probably in conflict. From Blackwood's Magazine. A LASTING MEMORY. Khiva alone remained independent. But in 1873 the command was at length given from St. Petersburg for a combined attack against this last of the khanates. One column was to advance from Tashkent by Samarkand and Bokhara, and thence westwards down the right bank of the Oxus. A second expedition was to start from Kazalinsk at the mouth of the Jaxartes, on the north-east side of the Aral Sea, and was to make its way across the sandy wastes of the Kizzil Kum; a third expedition was to set out from Orenburg across the pastoral steppes to the north-western corner of the Aral, and thence march along the western shores of the lake to the mouth of the Oxus, from which point there was easy marching up that river to the city of Khiva. Lastly, two columns were to advance from the Caspian, one from Krasnovodsk, across the Urst-Urt, to join the Orenburg column near the southern end of the Aral Sea; and the other, and more southerly, from Chikislar, which bad to march north-eastwards to Khiva through the sandy wastes. This lastnamed column, under Colonel Markosoff, wholly failed, and the entire force was within an ace of perishing from heat and want of water in the desert. The column from Kazalinsk in crossing the Kizzil Kum, nearly shared the same fate, owing to the ambition of the commander, who desired to take a new route; and it arrived too late at the field of operations. The little theatre had always been my But the column from Orenburg made its fancy. I remembered it from very early long march successfully; so also did the youth - Farren, Webster, Buckstone, column from Krasnovodsk on the Cas-Howe, Holl, Mrs. Nisbet, Mrs. Glover, pian, which joined the Orenburg column in the delta of the Oxus; the combined force reaching Khiva simultaneously with Kauffman's column, which had advanced from Tashkent by Samarkand and Bokhara, and thence down the southern bank, of the Oxus. Khiva fell without a struggle; the khan became a feudatory of the czar; and the Russians built the fort of Petro-Alexandrovosk within his territories, on the south bank of the Oxus. Thus the whole western half of central THE night of my return I went to the Haymarket Theatre. After my long wanderings my arrival had disappointed_me. It was a dull November Saturday. London was not full, and I found scarcely any of the greetings I had longed for and expected. My few relatives were absent; in the clubs I belonged to I only found strangers. Time hung heavy on my hands after the strange scenes of the past five years. So I went to the Haymarket. Julia Bennett, and Miss P. Horton. I have never been a great theatre-goer or devotee of the drama, and my knowledge of theatrical history is pretty well confined to the Haymarket. I. THERE was rather a long entr'acte, and my mind by instinct but mistily went over different occasions of play-going. Here I had been with A, and B, and C, in days when the end of the play was the begin He has ning of the evening. Nearly opposite | try and bear the same name. once existed a kind of hell upon earth just returned from South America." called Bob Croft's, whither young men went merely because it was disreputable. Once or twice in early youth I had been taken there, and I had not fancied it, for rough amusements had never been to my liking. At Mr. Croft's an ordinary evening generally ended in a fight, and a not very extraordinary one in a police invasion. Here I had been kept from harm's way by Jock Campbell-since dead. Once the remembrance followed quick-I had come to the theatre in a box with Jock Campbell and others. Among them was Lydia Mainwaring. The play was the same as that now being acted- "The School for Scandal." I glanced at the box we had occupied. It was empty. The curtain again drew up. Another entr'acte. The box was still empty. I sighed. My longed-for return had been such a disappointment. I had almost expected to see some friend in the box. Curious in a box near it two hands in black gloves are holding an opera-glass directed towards me. The wrists seem familiar, small, but with hard, wiry sinews expressing power and strength. The next time I look up, the hands and the glass are there no longer, and their owner has retired to the back of the box. The play was over, and a well-known farce was about to commence. The stalls were half emptied, when a well-known face came and greeted me. It was Sir Esmé Egerton, once a school-fellow, then a clergyman -a vocation he had renounced on succeeding to a baronetcy and a property. He was a kindly, dull Lady Egerton bowed for a moment without a word. Then, as though to make reparation, she said, "I am always glad, Esmé, to see your friends. Welcome home, I should say, Lord Westerham. I know you already from Esmé and others." It was the same voice and the same gesture as before- a mixture of defiance and submission, of resentment and fear. To Esmé her bearing was affectionate and caressing, almost compassionate and full of gratitude. But to me Lydia Mainwaring showed no sign of recognition. "I was surprised to hear of Sir Esme's marriage just now. I have had no letters for months, and have seen no newspapers except in the last few weeks." "Won't you ask the wanderer to dine to-morrow?" suggested the husband. "I hope you will come, Lord Westerham. Esmé will long to hear your adventures; and," she added more slowly, and with an emphasis perceptible only to myself-"and they will interest me too." She continued "I feel a little chilly, Esmé, and should like to go home." He begged me to escort his wife downstairs while he looked out for the carriage. When alone she said no word of recognition or reminiscence. "You must have seen the play before, Lord Westerham." แ Once," I replied, a long time ago, from the box next to this one." "Then you will remember to-morrow," she said, as she entered the carriage. know your promises are sacred. Goodnight." II. "I My youth was most unhappy. My mother had married a second time a Welsh clergyman, who had speculated on her family. She was the sister, and later the heir general, of Lord Westerham, who, having two boys and an encumbered estate, could do little for her, even if so inclined. The death of his two boys made but little change in his inclination, as it seemed to embitter his wife, a hard Scotch Puritan, towards those who were to succeed to the inheritance of her sons. Nor did it improve the disposition towards me of my step-father. Small as were my prospects, they stood in the way of his son, my step-brother - an impul sive, choleric, sickly boy, who died be and others who, like myself, imagined they were enjoying life. Jock Campbell entered as a king, and was rapturously greeted by all the assembly. He was a splendid fellow - tall, at least six feet four, muscular, with great breadth of shoulders, powerful arms, and a handsome, high-bred, fair-complexioned face, on which he wore a moustache-an ornament only known in those days to men who, like himself, were in the cavalry. fore his father. But my early life and home were unhappy. My small patrimony was seized on by my step-father, who grudged me the food and shelter he gave me from my own money. Things could not last thus. At an early age I therefore found myself living in London with a distant cousin, a conveyancer, who gave me a latch-key, and allowed me to have my own way, under the guidance of another distant relative, a sporting man and a scapegrace. It was under his patronage that I became acquainted with the establishment of Mr. Robert Croft. It "Good-night, Jock," the mob cried out. is a wonder to me now that I was not "Good-night," he responded, cheerily; ruined in purse and reputation before I and notwithstanding the vile surroundreached the age of nineteen. Fortunate-ings, his presence and his voice showed ly, I disliked the society into which I was the good there was in the man. initiated, and after the first flattering assurance that I was "seeing life," I backed out of Mr. Croft's intimate circle. Indeed I never entered into his establishment above two or three times. once with my cousin, who, having secured me the entrée, allowed me alone to improve the occasion. It was on my third and last appearance that I made the acquaintance of Jock Campbell. After dining alone with the conveyancer, I left him to his work, went to the theatre, and sat in the stalls next Jock. I looked much younger than my age, which was not more than seventeen. When I left the theatre I crossed the Haymarket and passed up the little court which led to Croft's. I had engaged to meet my scapegrace cousin there. He had dazzled me with the promise of taking me to a scene of even greater bliss. At the door of Bob Croft's, waiting for it to be opened at the necessary signal, stood the tall, heavy, but well-proportioned form that had sat next me at the theatre. Looking at me as we entered, he said, in a tone of compassion, "Hillo! young man, you are beginning early." I half resented his remarks, and with an air of superiority I asked the waiter if Mr. Alan M'Tavish had arrived. He was not more than four-and-twenty, and the days had not died out, now almost forgotten, when coarse debauchery was deemed the extreme of wit and good company. Spring-heeled jacks wrenching off door-knockers, midnight surprises, fights in the street, attacks on the police, Jock these were the pleasures of many young men of the world now staid grandfathers and lights in their generation. Campbell had fallen into these ways from high spirits rather than from depravity. He was full of energy, strong, handsome, and beloved-beaming with sympathy, which was enlisted by his companions for the moment, whether these were innocent or the reverse. Belonging to a regiment in which such pursuits were the_vogue, he plunged readily into them. But he was equally popular in ball-rooms with maiden aunts, or even little children, for he was only pleased with giving pleasure. Waiting for my cousin, I called ostentatiously for a glass of "pale white," the synonym for brandy-and-water in an unlicensed institution. An inner feeling seemed to tell me that Jock Campbell had his eye on me; and half resentful, yet half fascinated, I followed him up-stairs with my brandy and water in my hand. The room was rather larger, as supper could be obtained there, and a table stood very nearly the whole length of the room, covered with a cloth spotted with gravy, beer, and strong drink. I sat down at an unoccupied corner of this, sipping my brandy and water and smoking a cigar, a newly-acquired accomplishment. A man with a broken nose named Shepherd, a betting man, sat at the other end. The rest of the room was crowded; for it was known Jock Campbell, who had a beautiful voice, would be asked to sing a song. "Come, Jock-a song!" they all cried; and he trolled forth, in a rich, strong tenor, an Irish song with a rollicking chorus, in which the whole room joined. Encore! encore!" shouted the crowd. "I 'ope the song won't be so noisy, captain," said Mr. Bob Croft, "acos of the peelers." 66 "All right," said Jock Campbell, as he took a puff of his cigar, looking me straight in the face; and leaning his chin on his hand, he sang in a minor key, and in a low tone, a pathetic Scotch song. The effect was extraordinary. The crowd was hushed while he sang; and when he ended, the lost, hardened women present were crying and sobbing like children. On myself the effect was electrical. I had often heard the song in my home, and had always been told that it was unpublished, and related to an event in our family history. It set me musing. Come, young man," said the brokennosed ruffian at the end of the table; "don't you know it's your duty to stand the company with champagne round?" I was quite dazed with the speech. "If you go wool-gathering, young man," continued Shepherd, "I'll bring you to, soon enough." "Don't be too hard on the youngster, Tim Shepherd," said Jock Campbell. "If he don't stand champagne, I'll knock his head off," replied the bully. No, you won't, Tim," rejoined Jock. "A big fellow like you, can't hit a child like that." 'No, you can't, Tim," said the company. "We don't want no champagne." "You shall have some, however," declared Jock Campbell; and he ordered half a dozen of Mr. Croft, who brought it up himself. By this time Jock Campbell had come near me. "You must take a glass, youngster," he said, "if only for the sake of my song. Do you know it?" "Yes," I answered. "In my family it is known as the song of Lydia Mainwaring, the Welsh girl who loved the Scotchman." "Where do you live, my boy? You had better go home." "I am waiting for some one.' ALAN M'TAVISH was soon set free from the sponging-house. Calvert was rich, and his mission seemed to be the release of Alan from arrest. He was a quaint, kind-hearted, yet selfish old man, who had discovered the secret that immediate compliance saved a great deal of trouble. His only hobby was his profession, which had produced, and was producing, a good deal of money. great part of this his few relatives seemed welcome. Alan helped himself freely, and was only arrested when Calvert was out of town. I was far more humble and contented myself with my small means ample enough, as Calvert would not hear of my paying for bed or board. To a "Who is Jock Campbell?" I asked of Alan. "As good a fellow as ever lived. A captain in the and a kind of cousin of yours and mine. Did you ever hear the song of Lydia Mainwaring?" "Yes, I have-often." Somehow or other I did not like to tell the manner in which I had last heard it. "Well, since the loves of Lydia, and of Jock her lover, the names of Mainwaring and Campbell have been intertwined in almost every generation. You, - at least your mother is a Mainwaring. Lord Westerham has married a Campbell. But Lady Westerham has nearer Mainwaring relations then her husband. Jock Campbell is her nephew, and she has a girl living with her, half cousin, half dependant, whose name is Lydia Mainwaring, and whose relationship to Lord Westerham is scarcely appreciable." "I wish I knew my relations," I said, with a sigh. "I have so few respectable acquaintances." "Am I not sufficient?" asked Alan. "Well, perhaps I am not respectable," he replied in his turn. "You know," he went on to say, "the difficulty. Lady Westerham has a crotchet, and your stepfather is a brute. But you certainly should know more people. It won't do for your acquaintance to be confined to Calvert and myself. I'll think it over. "What! with old Calvert M'Tavish? Just lend me a couple of pounds." "Alan M'Tavish won't come here tonight. He has been taken to a sponginghouse. You had better leave this, as there is sure to be a row soon. give you a lift?" "I live in Baker Street." Can I |