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Golden cradle. — Doesn’t this approach harm the spiritual mood?

In 2002 in Crimea during research work In the ancient cave city of Chufut-Kale, speleologists discovered the entrance to an underground tunnel. While working to clear the tunnel, speleologists found 4,250 ancient coins from the 14th century. At that time it was one of the largest treasures in the history of Crimea. This discovery was made by accident. But it gave reason to assume that the found treasures are connected with the famous Golden Cradle - a priceless artifact that treasure hunters around the world have been hunting for for many years in the mountains of Crimea.

The Legend of the Golden Cradle.

Once upon a time there were two strong principalities in Crimea. One of them was called Genoese (Roman) and was located on the coast, the other was in the mountainous Crimea and therefore was called mountain (Urum).

These principalities waged continuous war among themselves. The Genoese stole the herds of the mountaineers and ravaged villages. The mountaineers responded by attacking the Genoese fortresses. This situation could not last indefinitely; disputes had to be resolved. But how? The warring princes asked this question to their advisers. Some time later, the Genoese ambassador appeared with his retinue to the mountain prince and offered eternal friendship. And if the mountaineers really sincerely desire friendship, then let them give the Genoese a golden cradle - a sacred relic of the mountain people, which is depicted on their banner. “We demand this only because,” said the Genoese, “we know how highly you value the cradle.” Give it to us and we will make sure that you value peace more than anything else.

The leader of the mountain people immediately gathered his advisers and spoke about the Genoese proposal. The mountain councilors thought for a long time. They never wanted to part with the shrine of their people, because this meant that they voluntarily agreed to deprive themselves of their name, freedom and independence. “We need to ask the Genoese for the paper according to which they own land in Crimea,” the council of mountaineers decided. - There is no point in thinking that they will agree to this. And then we will begin negotiations for peace on different terms.

The response of the mountain prince was conveyed to the Genoese ambassador. The ambassador turned silently and with his retinue went to the coast. Another week passed, and a new messenger appeared from the Genoese prince. “Take anything from us,” he said, “but not this paper.” - What do you have more expensive than her? After all, you dared to talk to us about our shrine! “We are a different matter,” said the ambassador. - You are known as a proud, undaunted people, and you can be forced to make peace with us only by taking away your shrine.

thanks for kind word! - the mountain prince grinned. - But why are you holding on to a piece of paper? What does he give you? - What rights to the land will remain with us if we lose this paper? “We probably won’t agree,” said the prince. - Look, don’t make us angry. We will take your shrine by force, since you yourself do not want to give it to us. “You threaten,” the mountaineer answered, “but it’s easier said than done.” Our people are not afraid of anyone and would rather die to the last in battle than sell their honor! - I won’t wait for another answer? - No!

A new war broke out between the Genoese and the highlanders. The ranks of the glorious defenders of the banner with the image of the golden cradle were thinning, and the principality was threatened with destruction. The Genoese demanded the golden cradle, promising to end the war. Then the mountain prince gathered the people and asked whether it would be better to agree to such conditions. - We don't want this! - the soldiers shouted. - We will not allow shame while at least one of us is alive! -

My friends! - said the prince. - As long as our shrine is intact, the people live, even if only a handful of people remain from it. Therefore, I will hide the shrine so that none of the enemies will find it. And I will cast a spell on it so that it will be given into the hands only of those who approach it with pure motives...

Having said this, the prince with a small group of close people headed to a cave on Mount Basman, near Biyuk-Uzenbash. They reached it only by the only paths known to them. The warriors carried the golden cradle into the depths of the winding cave and left the prince alone. Kneeling down, he quietly said: “Mighty spirits!” I and my people entrust to you the most precious thing we possess. The greedy neighbors - the Genoese - want to take it away in order to deprive us of our name, honor and freedom. The mountain warriors are now fighting them tooth and nail. If they fail to defeat the cruel enemy and die, I ask you: take our shrine under your protection and preserve it for future generations.

It will be so! - was heard in the gloomy emptiness of the cave. “I conjure you to punish anyone who wants to take this cradle for the sake of enslaving another people or for the sake of some other evil intent.” - It will be so! - came again from the gloomy void. - Mighty spirits! I ask you to open the place where the cradle of our people is kept to those people who will look for it for the revival of my people, its glorious name, its rebellious spirit. And help me in the battle for the lives of my family, the wives and children of my warriors, for our land, mountains, for our fields and homes!

At that moment, an old man in white clothes appeared in front of the prince and told him: “Don’t despair!” Your people are going through difficult days, but better times will come for them. This will not happen soon; he will experience a lot of grief. However, looking into the distance, I see its revived fields, bustling cities, happy people. Don't despair even if you fail...

What will happen to the Genoese, our enemies? - Their fate is unhappy, like all invaders. They will disappear from this earth forever. The elder slowly went into the depths of the cave, and the prince got out of it and hurried to his soldiers. The war between the two peoples continued for a long time. And no matter what victories the Genoese achieved, they did not achieve their goal, they could not capture the golden cradle. The last detachments of highlanders left native land, succumbed to the evil force. But the ranks of their enemies also weakened. And when unexpectedly hordes of new invaders descended on the Genoese, they fled in disgrace, never to appear on Crimean soil again. And the paper that gave them the right to own it was carried away by the wind into a distant sea, and it disappeared forever.

Century after century, battles raged for the mountain land, and a wonderful golden cradle was kept in a cave on Mount Sotira. Many brave souls tried to take possession of it, but they were unable to reach it. They returned disfigured, with their minds clouded.
However, the time came, and the mountains revealed their riches.

The people living in Crimea today obtained this cradle. In his heart is selfless love for his homeland, like the highlanders, whose banner once depicted a golden cradle.

Crimean legends.

The Legend of the Golden Cradle.

Penjikent "Hero Rustam (detail of frieze)"
First half of the 8th century

In very ancient times, when Allah had not yet created the great progenitor of all people, Adam, the exile Dzhenett, some ancient people, or spirits, called jintaifas, lived in the world.

There were different genies. Some were true believers, others were unbelievers, who did not recognize the one Allah, the creator of all worlds.

On this side of the Crimean mountains, along the entire coast, lived Allah's genies. They were faithful to the covenants of the one Allah and his prophet, said prayers according to the rules and praised his wisdom five times a day. On the other side of the Crimean mountains, inside the country, lived the unbelieving genies. They did not recognize the covenants of Allah, did not perform his prayers and obeyed the enemy of Allah - the great demon Iblis, whom they made their god and whose teachings they followed.

Allah's genies, living on the coast of Crimea, planted gardens, planted grapes, sowed bread and millet, and spun flax. Iblis's genies, living in wild mountain forests, grazed herds in rare meadows, hunted goats and deer, and burned coal.

Each group of jinn had its own ruler, its own khan. There was no agreement between the jinn of Allah and the jinn of Iblis. There were often wars and strife between them. They took each other's arable land. forests and pastures, stole livestock, and did not allow agricultural work to be carried out. Because of these skirmishes, bloody military campaigns arose, villages were ravaged and burned, many genies were killed and taken into shameful slavery. Allah's genies hated Iblis's, and Iblis's hated Allah's. Their khans also hated each other and were always filled with a thirst for revenge for past grievances.

But more often the Iblis jinn won, since they were more courageous, agile, cruel, fearless, hardy, tempered by hunting and herding livestock, while the jinn farmers were timid, were afraid to leave their huts and pastures, were poor at wielding weapons, and were not used to military tricks and cruelties.

The khan of the Iblis genies had a son-heir, a young man of rare beauty, brave, passionate and persistent. He did not yet know love, since there was no girl in the country of the Iblis genies worthy of such a knight. And he eagerly listened to stories about other people's beauties.

The khan's son had an uncle-educator, a slave of the khan, who was once stolen by the Iblis genies from Allah's genies in the forest as a little boy, when he was collecting dogwood. He grew up in captivity, was distinguished by his intelligence and many virtues, in his old age he was given the task of raising the Khan’s son, taught him various arts: archery, sling throwing, jumping, and running. The old slave fell in love with his pupil and told him how other genies live, what kind of knights and girls they have. The old man often secretly saw other slaves of his tribe and through them knew about everything that was happening in his homeland.

An old man told his pupil that the Khan of Allah's genies on the seashore of the Crimea has a young daughter, such a beauty that the nightingales of that country sing only about her and spread the sweet glory of her incomparable beauty far beyond its borders. The young son of the khan ordered to secretly bring to himself those slaves who had seen the princess, and asked them about everything that made up her wondrous beauty - about the skin of her face, like a rose petal, and about the thin arrows of her eyebrows, and about her eyes, burning like stars, and about lips that are alluring like cherries, and about soft, captivating hair.

The slaves told the ardent young man a lot, and the incomparable beauty of the daughter of the South Coast Khan was so clearly presented to him that he had an indomitable desire to at least look at the beauty he had never seen, at least to hear a fragrant word from his lips and tell her. A deep passion flared up in his courageous heart, all his thoughts were filled with the thought of a beautiful neighbor he had never seen. He no longer enjoyed hunting with his peers for deer and goats on Yaila in the dense mountain forests, and competitions in archery accuracy at a flying bird, and racing on wild mountain horses, and war games with a sword, spear and shield, and hunting for captives. with a long lasso, and cheerful feasts at his father’s hearth, and stories of his old warriors about long-standing campaigns, battles, victories, old women’s tales about glorious royal sons in distant countries. The khan's son became gloomy and silent, plunged into thoughts, refused food and drink, did not find peace, remained silent, not daring to utter a word about his criminal passion for the daughter of the enemy, thought without sleep at night and was so sad that he turned yellow, withered and became looks like his own shadow. The love hidden from everyone took him this far.

The old khan was deeply saddened, looking at the sad change in his beloved son. He persistently asked him about the reason for his melancholy, but the young man was silent as the grave. The khan called upon skilled sorcerers to heal him, but they did not find any disease, and all their spells against the evil eye were in vain. The khan tried to amuse his son with dances of slave girls, jokes of court mockers, military amusements, zurnas and santyrs. But nothing helped, the prince remained gloomy and gloomy, and his father could not unravel the secrets of his sadness.

Then the old khan called the High Priest Iblis to him and instructed him to find out the reason for his son’s grief at all costs. He began to watch his every step, word and breath, but could not notice anything. Finally, when one night the young man fell into a brief nap, the high priest crept up to him, pressed his ear to his moving lips and heard clearly: “Oh, Zehra, Zehra!” and words great love and sadness.

For a long time the khan and his priest wondered about whom the young man’s lips whispered at night, but they could not guess. They asked everywhere for a long time, but there was not a single girl named Zehra in the entire khanate. They then began to call fortune-tellers and tell fortunes in the name “Zehra”. And one of the sorcerers guessed and pointed out that Zehra lived on the other side of the mountains on the shore of the great sea. They questioned the captives of Allah's genies and learned the whole truth.

In the old khan, anxiety gave way to terrible anger. He saw treason in the criminal passion of his son, betrayal of his father, his tribe and his to the ancient god Iblis. He forbade his son to even think about the cursed foreigner, showered her name with terrible abuse, threatened the young man with imprisonment and his father’s curse, and established strict supervision over him. The mere mention of a foreign neighbor, the khan, and his tribe brought the old man into a ferocious rage.

But the heart of the young prince was not so strong that it was possible to drive out of him the traits of his beloved with threats. Seeing the indomitability of his father’s anger, he firmly decided to escape secretly from the limits of the formidable father’s power and make his way at all costs over the mountains to the seaside country of Allah’s genies, to the dream of his heart, in order to look at his idol at least once and heal his soul with a single glance from her beautiful eyes.

The sad young man thought for a long, long time; how he can fulfill his decision, how to deceive his father and the supervision he has placed. No one could help him in his plans, except for his old devoted servant, his uncle, who raised him from an early age and was ready to lay down his soul to fulfill his pupil’s desire. The old man secretly took out a shepherd's dress, one dark stormy night he placed a stuffed animal rolled up from straw on the prince's bed, and he and the disguised young man slipped past the palace guards, crept through the dark dark alleys to the city wall, and found for him alone the well-known underground passage leading from the old ruined basement under the wall, out into the nearest forest, into a hidden cave. Only here did the fugitives stop for a minute to breathe, but immediately they carefully slid further through dense forests, over rocks and abysses, without roads or paths, through wilds where no traveler had ever gone before, and where only mountain goats jumped from rock to rock, not afraid of the hunter's arrow, and the gloomy badger swarmed in the crevices, cracking nuts.

So they ran all night higher and higher into the mountains and by dawn they climbed to Yayla itself. Yayla, which served as the border between both khanates, was deserted; the jinn from both sides were afraid to appear here, but the fugitives were still afraid of daylight, hid in a dark cave and waited for the evening. In the darkness of the second night, they carefully crept over the dangerous rocks and gaps of Yayla and slipped into the forests of the southern slope. Making their way between the guard posts of Allah's genies, between the camps of hunters and the shepherds' cats, being careful of their ferocious dogs, the fugitives descended the next morning to the coastal cliffs.

It was difficult to escape from the father's palace and native tribe, it was difficult to get unnoticed through impenetrable mountain forests into a foreign, enemy country, but the most difficult thing was to penetrate the palace of the faithful and see his vigilantly guarded beautiful daughter. For a long time he looked for an opportunity and dreamed up ways for the Khan’s son to fulfill his dream, but nothing helped. He was chased away by guards, guard dogs tore at him, high fences and strong locks blocked his path.

Finally, the fugitives decided to come up with a trick to get into the palace at any cost and fulfill the ardent, adamant desire of the young man. The prince, together with his old servant, began to learn sacred chants hitherto unknown to them. They taught for a long time and learned a large number of them. Then they dressed in the clothes of wandering dervish beggars and began to come every day to the gates of the khan's palace and sing sacred hymns, praising the wisdom of Allah and his caliph on earth, the great khan of the faithful jinn.

The beautiful, powerful voice of the young dervish, the passionate persistent pleas expressed in the sounds of his songs, finally found their way to the ear of the beautiful princess. She began to approach the gate at the usual hour and listen to the beautiful hymns of the dervishes in an open place. Finally, the beautiful Zehra began to beg the old khan, her father, to allow the holy dervishes to come to her palace chapel on holy days and resound with chants. The old khan was also deeply moved by the beautiful singing of the dervishes, and he allowed the sacred wanderers into the inner parts of the palace, yielding to the requests of his beautiful daughter.

It was here, in the sacred silence of the Temple of Allah, that the disguised dervish prince first saw the one about whom his soul had dreamed for so many sleepless nights. For a long time he could not recover from awe and amazement, for all his dreams were only a pale shadow of the beauty that he now saw before him in reality, and there were no limits to his delight. But Princess Zehra herself soon noticed, listening to the wondrous hymns, that not only did the young dervish have a sonorous voice, but also a beautiful, courageous, proud face, luminous, bold, ardent eyes and a powerful, flexible, slender figure, emerging from under the beggarly dervishes clothes

A little time passed, and more and more often the dervishes sang their chants for the beautiful princess in the prayer house. And not only did the young dervish show the art of singing in the palace, he took part in competitions in archery, javelin throwing, wrestling, and horse riding, and none of the orthodox youths could compare with him in courage, strength and accuracy . And the beautiful Zehra and her father, the faithful khan, suspected that it was not a beggar dervish entering their palace, but some alien knight who had left his land.

Month after month passed, and the day came when two loving hearts opened up in devotion to each other. There was no limit to their bliss when the beauty’s old father could not refuse their prayers and agreed to marry them. The prince solemnly accepted the faith of his beloved, the faith of the only Allah, threw off the false clothes of a dervish, appeared in the real form of a knight, but did not reveal his real origin.

The old khan was also immensely happy when his daughter, the beautiful Zehra, rewarded him with a golden-haired grandson. The enchanted grandfather gave her a family cradle, in which, by inheritance, since ancient times, all the crown princes of the Khan's family of faithful genies rocked to sleep. The cradle was made of pure gold and ivory, all sparkling with jewels and workmanship, and when rocked, it spontaneously uttered gentle lullabies. The beautiful Zehra began to rock her lovely baby in the golden singing cradle.

Meanwhile, a rumor about the marriage of the khan's daughter with some alien knight who accepted her faith reached the land of the Iblis genies on the other side of the Crimean Mountains. For a long time the Khan had been searching in vain for his missing son and could not find any trace of him. He tortured and executed the guards who did not save him, he called on fortune tellers, but could not find out anything. Finally, he decided that the fugitive son had died in the mountains and forests and that it was better for him, the fugitive, to die such a death than to fall into the snare of his beloved, the daughter of the hated khan of the followers of Allah. And with this the khan consoled his father’s grief.

When rumors reached about the marriage of Allah's genies at the court of the Khan and the birth of a heir apparent, a terrible suspicion crept into the old man's soul. He sent spies to the hated enemy country so that they could look at the visiting knight, the princess’s husband. The scouts brought the news that this was indeed the son of the khan, who had fled from his father’s house and accepted the hated faith of Allah.

The rage of the old khan was immeasurable against the fugitive and traitorous son who abandoned motherland. The old man’s heart began to boil with great anger and revenge, and he decided to destroy both his apostate son and the cursed nest of the enemy who had seduced him with his sorcery, and the entire country of the hated orthodox genies. Destroy so as to end them forever.

The khan called all his nobles and priests to the Divan, swore before them in the name of the great Iblis to take revenge on the enemy and drown him in blood, and asked everyone to help him in this sacred matter. The priests and nobles, sensing prey, further inflamed his anger and promised to give all their warriors. A huge army of followers of Iblis gathered in the mountains and, incited by the priests, recalling ancient grievances aroused by the angry, vengeful khan, rushed through the mountains to enemy land.

The terrible war lasted for seven years and seven winters. Blood flowed like a river, the earth trembled under the horses’ hooves, the air was filled with the whistling of arrows. Fierce aliens from beyond the mountains furiously attacked the villages of the coastal genies. Allah's genies also showed themselves not to be cowards. They fielded a brave army and courageously defended their land and faith, their huts, wives, children and old people. The old faithful khan himself gathered troops and sent them towards the enemies. His courageous son-in-law stood at the head of the army defending his new homeland. He was seen in the front rows, in the very dangerous places; like a lion, he rushed forward, dragging Allah’s warriors behind him and swiftly defeating the troops of his father and his fellow tribesmen loyal to Iblis, fearlessly defending his love, his beauty and his son from them. And his weapon was accompanied by victory.

But not everywhere and not always could a brave, fearless leader be in the forefront; not all of his warriors were as strong-hearted as he was. While he was victorious in one place, in others his troops weakened under the pressure of angry mountaineers and suffered defeats. It so happened that he bravely rushed with a selected detachment against the enemies, crashed into their ranks, sowing horror and death around him, penetrated far into the depths of their army, trying to reach his father’s camp, and the enemies did not dare to approach the blows of his swift sword. At this time, his troops in other places wavered and were put to flight, the ranks of enemies closed behind him, and he, with an intrepid handful of brave men, found himself surrounded and cut off in a dangerous mountain gorge. The detachment defended itself with selfless courage, many enemies fell at its feet, but more and more crowds arrived, clouds of arrows rained down from neighboring rocks, huge stones rolled into the gorge, and finally, a stone from a sling, accurately thrown by someone’s hidden hand, hit the brave the leader right in the temple and threw him dead to the ground. It was a stone from the sling of his angry and vengeful father Khan.

Deprived of their beloved leader, the entire detachment could not resist for long and was destroyed to one person. Next to the murdered knight lay the chopped-up body of his teacher, an old slave.

Fear and horror attacked the entire land of Allah's genies. No one thought about resistance anymore, they only thought about escape and salvation. The fierce warriors of Iblis’s followers poured in an uncontrollable stream into the defenseless country, burned, robbed, killed everything that came in their way, left no stone unturned from the former villages, cities and temples, and turned the flourishing southern coast of Crimea into a gloomy desert. The one who was taken into heavy slavery could consider himself happy: he at least saved his life. The rest were killed to one.

Where was there to escape? There were no ships of Allah in the sea, the fortresses on the mountain cliffs were already destroyed by enemies, and all the roads and paths from their coastal country led through the mountains to the country of their hated enemies, the Iblis genies. There was no salvation for anyone.

The old khan of Allah's genies defended himself for a long time with his daughter and grandson in his palace, where Alupka is now located. For a long time, his enemies could not take him and came up with a way to completely destroy him. From Mount Ai-Petri itself they began to dump huge fragments of rocks; they rolled down with a terrible roar and uncontrollable force and fell straight onto the palace, breaking it into fragments and splinters. So many of these terrible rocks were thrown down by the enemies that not a trace remained of the Khan’s palace, and in its place a huge pile of mountain debris formed, piled on top of each other in gloomy chaos.

The old khan, heartbroken and overcome by deep despair, seeing the imminent death of the palace when the first stones rushed from Ai-Petri, rushed to escape through the last refuge - through a secret underground passage that led from the palace in Alupka up into the mountains, to the Isar fortress on the mountain , now called Krestovaya. He rushed along the underground passage, dragging behind him his sobbing daughter, the beautiful Zehra, and his little grandson. Of all their former riches and treasures, they took with them only one, the most expensive jewel - the golden singing cradle.

With great difficulty and agony they climbed up the long, gloomy underground passage to the fortress. There was an exit up there to a hidden, mysterious cave in the crevasse. When they approached it, they saw with horror and despair that their formidable fortress had already been taken and destroyed by enemies, that mighty fragments of rocks from Ai-Petri had fallen on it, and that the crevasse and cave were blocked up so that there was no way out of them at all.

Fierce enemies could not find them here, they could neither kill them nor take them into shameful slavery. But could they find salvation here? All around lay a devastated, destroyed country, filled with corpses, among which brutal enemies prowled. No one could save them by opening the exit from the cave. Without any help or support, the unfortunate people, having endured terrible suffering, died of starvation at the exit from the underground passage.

Before his death, the old khan cast a formidable spell over the golden cradle, from which it became invisible.

Tradition says that this golden cradle is still kept in the dark cave of Mount Isar.

Only sometimes, during a strong storm, when a whirlwind penetrates into an enchanted mysterious dungeon and rocks the cradle, she quietly sings a mournful lullaby.
For a long time, many, very many have tried to somehow get the golden cradle in the cave on Krestovaya Mountain, but always without success. Many paid with their lives for their daring attempts, falling off the cliffs; others, having saved their lives, returned frightened, half-crazed, with their mouth, arms or legs twisted forever. The golden cradle was very tightly enchanted by the old khan. It is not given to anyone unless he has the necessary talisman.

And the talisman can only be revealed to someone in whom the same powerful, selfless love burns as the brave son of the khan of the Iblis genies, who fell at the hands of his own father, carried within himself.

Notes:

Jennet is heaven.

Zurna is a wind instrument, the progenitor of the oboe.

Santyr is a string instrument, similar to a cymbal.

Yayla is a flat mountain top, a mountain pasture, characteristic of the Crimean mountains.

Kosh is a shepherd's camp, a pen for livestock.

Caliph is the title of the spiritual head of Muslims, revered as the successor of Muhammad.

Isar - a fence made of stones. in this case - strengthening. We are talking about Biyuk-Isar (biyuk - large), a famous medieval settlement on Krestovaya Mountain near Alupka