The ancient citadel of Samarkand is still called by the people Urda. This “encampment” occupies a commanding position, and is secured on three sides by scarped ravines. Its walls are upwards of two miles in circumference,[735] and have been adapted to suit the exigencies of modern warfare. In Russian eyes it is as sacred as the theatre of a defence as glorious as that of our Lucknow Residency in 1857.[736] In those of the antiquarian it is precious as the repository of the Kok Tāsh, a coronation stone of the Bokhāran sovereigns, and of an old Arabic inscription. The former is in the courtyard of a mean building which once served as the Amīr’s residence. It is an oblong block of grey marble, with arabesques at the sides, measuring 10′ 4″ by 4′ 9″ by 2′ in height. According to tradition, it fell on this spot from heaven, and for ages past it was venerated as the ægis of Bokhāran royalty. No Amīr was considered worthy of his subjects’ homage till he had sat on this rude throne. Behind it is an oval metal plaque bearing a funeral inscription dating as far back as A.H. 550, or 1155 of our era. The Russians’ quarter of Samarkand lies to the south of the native city. Their occupation has lasted for thirty years, and their dwellings have lost the garish newness which strikes a jarring note at Askabad and Merv. Broad avenues, at right angles to each other, a leafy park, and a splendid Boulevard, which Samarkand owes to its good genius, General Abramoff, who was governor in 1874,[737] such are the pleasant, if somewhat prosaic, features of Russian Samarkand. Government House has the vast reception-rooms met with in such places throughout the empire, and it has a large garden, which has trees, water, statues--everything except flowers. The officials’ bungalows mostly face the Abramovsky Boulevard, and are planned on the familiar Anglo-Indian lines. Then there is the obligatory military casino, which eclipses the finest of our mess-houses and has a splendid ballroom. Hard by is the garrison church, a clumsy erection, which seems the more insignificant by reason of its juxtaposition with the glorious remains of Mohammedan days. The museum is still more unworthy of a provincial capital. It contains the dreary array of stuffed beasts and wide-mouthed bottles familiar nearer home. No region in the world is richer in memorials of past ages than the valley of the Zarafshān. Heaps of small clay figures, supposed to represent the horse, show that Hinduism prevailed there at some remote period, for they are identical in shape with those deposited as _ex votos_ at many Indian shrines. Crosses figuring on rude bas-reliefs serve as a reminder of another vanished faith. The Nestorians, hounded as heretics from Europe in the fifth century, spread over the Asiatic Continent, and established bishoprics in Samarkand, Merv, and Herāt.[738] With a degree of moderation which belied their uncompromising tenets, the Caliphs protected the professors of this rival faith.