Part I.—DARFUR.
CHAPTER I.
Parentage of the Sheikh — His Grandfather starts on a Pilgrimage — Adventures — Mekka — Jeddah — A Man from Sennaar — Departure for that Country — Reception — Fate of his Family — Omar — His Pilgrimage — A Meeting in the Desert — A Rendezvous — Omar is deceived by his Father — Journeys to Sennaar — A Quarrel — He returns towards Egypt — The Desert — Return to Tunis — Birth of the Sheikh — His Father settles in Egypt — Goes again to Sennaar — The Sheikh at Cairo — Ahmed-el-Bedawee — Preparations for Journey to Darfur — Departure.
My father, says the pious Sheikh Mohammed of Tunis, beginning his narrative—may God overshadow him with the clouds of his mercy and goodness!—has related to me that my great-grandfather was one of the most important personages of Tunis; that he was steward of the Sultan of Barbary, the perfect prince, the victorious king, the shereef Mohammed El-Hosny.[2] In the exercise of his functions he became wealthy, and died, leaving three sons, who divided the heritage, and sold the house, which had been their first refuge, so that each remained alone with his wife and his children.
My grandfather was a man of letters, and wrote a beautiful hand. The books he copied sold for double the price of others. He had also learned the art of dyeing, and from the beginning was better off than his brothers, and better dressed than they. It happened one day that the desire came upon him to make a pilgrimage to the Sacred House, the Kaaba, and to visit the tomb of the Prophet. He sold a portion of his property, and prepared for his journey in the character of a trader, providing himself with good store of blankets and tarbooshes. Many persons also confided to him a certain quantity of merchandise, that he might trade to their advantage, for his good faith and probity were well known. He started in a vessel with a good cargo, his brothers accompanied him to the shore to bid him adieu, and a favourable wind at first accompanied him; but the weather suddenly changed, and he was driven in the direction of Rhodes, where a violent tempest overtook him. The vessel began to leak, the timbers to crack, the waves to leap over the bulwarks,—in short, they were wrecked upon the coast, and a few only escaped. Among these was my grandfather, who contrived to reach the city of Rhodes.
“Thy head,” says the poet, “being saved from destruction, wealth seems of no more value than the pairing of a nail.”
Luckily the traveller had round his waist a belt full of gold, which sufficed for his expenses. He bought a stock of provisions, and, re-embarking, set sail for Alexandria. It was the season of the departure of the pilgrims to join in the great ceremonies celebrated near Mount Arafat. He set out on his journey, and having safely arrived in the Sacred Countries, performed his pious duties with all the zeal and devotion of which he was capable. But when he had fully enjoyed the happiness of saluting the Prophet and his two companions, Abou-Bekr and Omar, who are buried near him, he recovered from his bewilderment, and began to reflect on the loss of his fortune and the uncertainty of the future. He was ashamed to return to Tunis in a state of misery and distress—he who had lived there in so much comfort. How would he be received by his countrymen? Upon this he began to repeat to himself these words:—
“I will travel in the countries of the East and of the setting sun. I will win wealth, or I will die far from my country. If my soul depart from me, God will call it to himself; but if I survive, it will be easy to revisit the place of my birth.”
He reflected, also, that even the Jew is honoured on account of his gold, and that the shereef is humiliated by poverty. The very dogs wag their tails at sight of a well-dressed man, but bark at those that are in rags. In consequence of these reflections, my grandfather left Mekka, and went to reside at Jeddah, where he gained his living by copying manuscripts. In the course of time he formed an acquaintance with some people from Sennaar, one of whom became his intimate friend. Now, this man said to him one day:—
“From what country art thou?”
He replied—“I am from Tunis.”
“And how does it happen that thou hast come to live at Jeddah?”
Then my grandfather related to him the history of his misfortunes.
“Why shouldst thou not make up thy mind,” said the man from Sennaar, “to come with us to our city? Thou wilt find there honour and well-being. Our mek (king) is a man with an open hand, caring neither for gold nor for silver, loving merit, and honouring shereefs. I answer for it, he will revive thy fortunes, and bestow upon thee riches, honours, slaves, and camels.”
So my grandfather allowed himself to be persuaded, and, setting out, arrived in safety at Sennaar, and was presented to the mek in these words:—
“This man is a learned man from a foreign country; his ship was destroyed upon the seas, and he has lost all he possessed.”
The mek received my grandfather with hospitality, saying, “Be welcome!”—and treated him with great deference, giving him a lodging and abundant presents.
Among these presents was a young girl of charming aspect, and of great price, named Halymah. Fascinated by her beauty, my father took her as his concubine, and had by her a son and a daughter, as beautiful as their mother. The king, moreover, assigned to him a fixed income; so that he utterly forgot his family, which had remained in Tunis, and the three young children he had left under the charge of their mother.
Now, of these children, my late uncle, named Mohammed, was about that time nine years old; the second—may God save his soul!—was called Omar, and was six years old—this was my father; the third, Mohammed Tahir, was three years old. They were all placed under the guardianship of their maternal uncle, Seyd Ahmed, son of the learned Sulieman-el-Azhary. This was a man of high character and immense learning, author of many esteemed books. On account of his great knowledge of theology, the functions of Kady of Tunis had been offered to him, but he had refused. He occupied himself in giving lessons, at first in a college, but afterwards—on account of ill-health—in his own house, where all the great people came to listen to his lectures.
My father remained with him until he came to man’s estate, and profited much by his instruction. But, then, the desire moved him to perform the pilgrimage, and he laid the subject before his uncle, who was at once stirred by the same laudable wish, and gave up his lectures and prepared for departure. They embarked and proceeded to Alexandria, and thence to Cairo; and afterwards started for Cosseir, some months before the season of the pilgrimage. As they were crossing the desert, they beheld approaching another caravan, composed of Magrebyns, coming from Sennaar. When they drew nigh they began to shout out questions one to the other; and those coming from Sennaar cried,—
“Ho! ho! is there any one amongst you from Tunis?”
“Yes,” replied my father, “we are from Tunis.”
“Do you know one Ahmed, son of Suleiman?”
“Yes,” said my father; “and who art thou?”
“I am his brother-in-law. I left Tunis a long time ago—my children and all my family—and I know not whether they are dead or alive.”
Now the uncle of my father was under a kind of palanquin, covered with cloth; but had overheard this conversation.
“Omar,” said he, “go and salute thy father. It is he; and tell him I am here.”
So Omar jumped off his camel, and, running to his father, kissed his hand, and told him that the brother of his wife was under the palanquin.
My grandfather hastened and saluted the son of Suleiman, and when they were somewhat tranquillised, Omar said to his father,—
“How comes it that thou hast left us so long, without any resource, young as we are? If God had not awakened the bounty of my uncle, we should have been lost.”
My grandfather explained that he had been the victim of destiny, and quoted the words of a poet in support of his statement.
“But,” said my father, “art thou now thinking of returning to our country, and of refreshing the eyes of thy family?”
“I will return, if it please God.”
“And when?”
“I am now going to Cairo to sell my female slaves. Then I shall return to Sennaar, to take my children and whatever I possess; and afterwards I shall set out for Egypt. Go thou upon the pilgrimage, and we shall meet again at Cairo. Whoever arrives first shall wait for the other.”
So they said, “Adieu!” and the two caravans separated in the desert. My father and his uncle went upon their pilgrimage, and my grandfather continued his journey to Cairo, where he sold his slaves, and, having made his purchases, returned to his adopted country. Meanwhile the pilgrims arrived at the holy city, and performed their pious duties; but the elder of them died, and was buried near the gate of Mala. So Omar returned alone to Cairo, and, whilst waiting for his father, attended on the scientific lectures in the mosque of El-Azhar. But he waited in vain; his father came not; and, in his impatience, he started with a caravan which was returning direct to Sennaar.
Having arrived in that country, he found his father comfortably settled, surrounded by his wives and children, and having no thoughts of departure. He asked him why he had broken his promise, and had laughed at him. My grandfather gave an evasive answer, to the effect that his debtors would not pay him, and persuaded Omar to wait six months longer. A caravan then preparing to depart for Egypt, Omar said,—
“My father! wilt thou come along with us, or shall I go away alone?”
“Neither the one nor the other. It is not convenient for me to go to Tunis, where I owe money. Besides, I have learned that thy mother has married again. As for thy departure, put it off; thou must be provided for that purpose with slaves, camels, gold, and merchandise.”
My father refused to remain any longer, saying: “I wish to become learned, and all the time I spend here is pure loss.”
Upon this they quarrelled, and my father went away in anger with the caravan, not possessing a single para. But three days afterwards, my grandfather came riding after him, and gave him three camels, four young slave-girls, two black slaves, provisions and water-skins, and a camel-load of gum. My father received the whole, and continued his journey with the caravan; but some time afterwards they strayed from the track and lost their way. Thirst made itself felt, the passage of the desert was prolonged, and the slave-girls and the camels which had been given to my father died, so that he became as poor as before. Well has a poet said, that when Fortune is willing to follow you can lead her with a hair, but when she wishes to turn away, she can break chains of iron.
Heaven, however, had not determined that my father should remain in an extremity of distress. The chief of the caravan became ill, and nobody knew a means of cure. His disease was a brain fever; but my father wrote a passage from the Koran on a piece of paper, and gave it to the sick man, who, with profound faith, placed it upon his head and was instantly cured. In gratitude, the chief of the caravan gave my father a camel to ride on, and placed his bales of gum upon another, so that he arrived in safety at Cairo, and sold his merchandise with a good profit. This done, he again entered the mosque of El-Azhar, and shortly afterwards married my mother. After two years of marriage, he had a son whom he called Ahmed, but who died when he was fifteen months old. He consoled himself by repeating the verses of the poet: “Dear child, star of the heaven, how short was thy time! thou wert like the stars of the last hour of the night!”
Soon afterwards my father started for Tunis, taking with him his wife and mother-in-law, and was received by his brother, Mohammed, who had become a tarboosh-manufacturer. Five months afterwards I was born. It was on a Friday, three hours after the setting of the sun, in the middle of the month of Zou-l-Kadeh, in the year 1204 (1789). Three years afterwards my father, having quarrelled with his brothers, returned to Egypt, and became a humble functionary in the mosque of El-Azhar. Four years afterwards he received a letter from his half-brother, in Sennaar, to this effect: “Our father has gone to the dwelling of pardon of the very high God. He left behind him a great number of books, which have been stolen from us by a certain Ahmed, of Benzareh in the States of Tunis, whom we had received into our house. We are in a condition that rejoices our enemies and afflicts our friends. On the receipt of this letter depart, we pray thee, immediately for this place, and take us with thee. We live as you live. Salutation.”
On reading this letter my father wept, and pitied the misery of his brother and his sister. He determined at once to go and fetch them. I was then seven years old. I had already read the whole of the Koran once, and was reading it a second time, having come to the end of the chapter on the family of Aaron. I had a brother four years old. My father left us sufficient to live on for six months; but we remained a whole year alone. My mother was obliged to sell a great portion of our copper utensils and of her ornaments. Then my uncle Tahir arrived at Cairo and took us under his protection. He came with the combined object of pilgrimage and trade. He had a boy as beautiful as the morning sun in a sky without clouds, named Mohammed. This boy studied with me for some time; but the plague came and he died; and was carried away to the tomb and to the delights of the Houris. My uncle, who had intended to remain some time in Cairo, was so saddened by the loss of his son, that he started immediately for the holy city, leaving me money sufficient for my expenses during four months.[3] But this time passed away, and I was left sometimes not knowing what to eat, and nearly naked. Meanwhile, however, I studied assiduously at the mosque of El-Azhar. One day I learned that a caravan was arriving from Soudan. It came from Darfur. I had learned a short time previously that my father had departed from Sennaar for that country with his brother. When, therefore, the caravan had entered the wakalah of the slave-merchants, I went about amongst them inquiring if any one knew whether my father was alive. After some time I chanced to fall in with one of the traders, who was a grave, respectable man, named Ahmed Bedawee. I kissed his hand and stood up before him.
“What dost thou desire, my friend?” said he to me, in a voice full of gentleness.
“I come to ask for news of some one whom you may happen to know.”
“Who is he, and what is his name?”
“Omar of Tunis, a learned man.”
“Thou hast addressed thyself to the right person. I am his friend; and thou, from thy face, should be his son.”
“Yes, I am he;” and I related my misfortunes.
He then told me that my father was among the personages placed near the Sultan, one of the most honoured members of the divan, and offered to advance me sufficient money to enable me to set out and join him. I accepted his offer, saying that I would follow him like a shadow; so I went to visit him every day until Ahmed said to me: “We shall start to-morrow, come and pass the night with us.” I did so, and next morning at early dawn we rose and pronounced the prayer of the Sabh, and prepared the baggage and placed it on the camels. The horns of the gazelle could not have been perceived in the desert at the time when our camels went away from the wakalah, swinging their burdens to and fro. We arrived at Fostat, and our beasts knelt on the banks of the Nile. We transferred our baggage to a large boat, and, having waited for the mid-day prayer—it being Friday—we started.[4]
CHAPTER II.
Fostat — The Nile — Reflections — Minieh — The Mamlooks — Siout — Departure of the Caravan — The Oases — Kharjeh — Abyrys — Boulac — Maks — Arid Desert — Wells and Rivers — Musical Stones — Selineh — A Courier — Death of the King of Darfur — Natron Lakes of Zaghawy — Halt — The last Stage over the Desert — Kind Treatment of the Sheikh — Confines of Darfur — Separation of the Caravan — Congratulations of the People — Visitors — Arrival of Strangers — Zarrouk, the Sheikh’s Uncle — Obligations of Ahmed-el-Bedawee to Omar of Tunis — Departure for Aboul-Joudoul — Kelkabieh — The Marrah Mountains — Meeting of Father and Son — Feast — The Sultan and his Vizier — Visit to Tendelty — Interview with Kourra.
When our boat had pushed off from the shores of Old Cairo, whilst the men were getting out the great sail, I began sadly to reflect on the dangers of the voyage I was undertaking: a warning voice seemed to speak from the depths of my heart. I trembled—disquietude overshadowed me—I was amidst the sons of a race foreign to my own; amidst men whose language I scarcely knew, whose countenances were not white, and whose miens not promising. I whispered to myself, whilst tears stood in my eyes:—“Body, garments, visage, all in them seem black to thee—black skins in black clothing.” I repented me that I had been won over by the sons of Ham. Their hatred for the sons of Shem came to my thoughts. I felt within myself an indescribable emotion, and was on the point of begging permission to return to Cairo; but the grace of God descended upon me, and I remembered all that had been said by men of learning and of science, and by the prophet, in favour of travels. If the pearl did not quit its shell, it would never be placed in a diadem; and if the moon moved not, it would ever be a crescent. So I determined to persevere. A favourable wind impelled us during the day, our kanjia moved swiftly up the stream, and at night-time we reached Minieh.[5]
Near this town there was a troop of those Ghouz, or Mamlouks, from whom God had just removed the cloak of power.[6] They seized our bark by violence. They were encamped in tents near the town, along the banks of the Nile, and were on the look-out for travellers, that they might rob them: they spoiled our chief of all his money. When we escaped from their hands we proceeded in three days to Manfaloot, and thence to Beni-Ady, where we remained until the Darfur caravan was ready to start—until it had mended its water-skins, and got together its provisions.[7]
When the camels were at length laden we struck into the desert, and on the evening of the fifth day reached Kharjeh, the Theban oasis. This place is planted with date-trees, that surround it as the anklets surround the ankles, or as the two arms of a lover surround the neck of his mistress, on whom he sheds a kiss. These date-trees were laden with splendid dates, the aspect of which charmed our eyes, and which were exceedingly cheap. We remained there five days; but on the morning of the sixth proceeded, and, after hard travelling, on the third day reached Abyrys. This country has been ruined by the exactions of its governors; all its population, formerly so happy, is now dispersed; the date-trees are destroyed, and all the brilliance of the scenery has been tarnished.
After two days of rest we pushed on two other days to Boulac, a country also desolated, and nearly without inhabitants. Most of its houses are ruined. What surprised me was the extreme smallness of the date-trees, under which we could lie and pick the fruit with our hands. The name of Boulac recalled to me the Boulac of Cairo, and some natural tears fell from my eyes as I thought of the place where I had been brought up.
But there is little time for regret in the desert. We pushed on hastily and arrived in the evening at Maks, to which this verse may be applied: “The country has no inhabitants, except the gazelles and the caravans that traverse it.” It is related that Maks had formerly a large population, which perished by the hand of Him who destroyed the last eagle of Lockman: all the inhabitants have disappeared—not a man is left. Scarcely at present remain there a few trees, some tamarisks, and thorny bushes. We tarried there two days, and having filled our water-skins, departed.
We now entered a desert completely arid. For five days we marched through silent solitudes, over grim plains, where here and there the wandering eye could scarcely discover some stunted plants of the same colour as the ground; there was not a tree to cast a hand’s-breadth of shadow. During this part of the journey we were compelled to cook our food with the dry dung of camels, which the servants collected.
On the evening of the fifth day we reached a place called Es-Shebb, situated in the midst of mountains that seemed like vast cones of sand. An unpleasant wind blew over them; but we remained there two days to rest, and then went on again for four more, until we reached the wells of Selineh, near which are the ruins of ancient buildings. It is situated at the foot of a mountain which bears the same name. We remained there two days to rest. This place is a delightful one for the traveller; but that which astonished me chiefly was that the young men of the caravan, having ascended the mountain, struck certain blocks of stone with switches, and caused them to yield a sound exactly resembling that of a tambourine. The cause of this curious circumstance is unknown. Are there hollows in these stones, or are they placed over caverns? Glory be to God, who knows the truth! At any rate the people of the caravan told me that, on a certain night, which they specified—the night of Friday, I believe—there is heard from the mountain the playing of a tambourine, as if a marriage festival were going on. The origin of these nocturnal musical entertainments is also unknown.
On the third day we filled our water-skins, and leaving Selineh entered upon the desert, and having travelled for five whole days, during which we met a caravan of Amaim Arabs coming from the natron lakes, reached Laguyeh, where we again rested two days and departed for Zaghawy. We now met a courier, mounted on a dromedary, coming from Darfur, and announcing the death of the just and glorious prince, Sultan Abd-er-Rahman-er-Rashid, sovereign of Darfur and its dependent provinces. The courier was going to Cairo to renew the state seal, no one in that country being capable of engraving it. The caravan testified its grief at this melancholy news; all feared that some disturbance might arise in the country, for the Sultan who had just died was an equitable and generous prince, loving science and those who possessed it, and the declared enemy of ignorance.
We continued our route for five days more, when at length our camels knelt at the natron lakes of Zaghawy. From thence to the frontiers of Darfur there are still ten days of travel, making forty days in all. We remained at this place eleven days, pasturing our beasts of burthen, in order to prepare them for the frightful desert before us. Some camels were slaughtered at this station, and their flesh was distributed to the caravan. There came to us some Bedawin Arabs of Darfur, who offered for sale camel-milk and butter. They had come to fetch salt and natron from that place.
We now sent forward a courier, mounted on a dromedary, with letters for the government, and others for the relations of the caravan folks, announcing our speedy arrival. I also wrote to my father, kissing his venerable hands, and relating how Ahmed Bedawee had cared for me. Indeed I had reason to be thankful; of all the journeys I had ever performed this was the pleasantest; for so soon as we quitted Beni-Ady my protector ordered his slaves to prepare for me a kind of tent on a quiet camel, and he himself assisted me to mount, and held the bridle until I was settled in my seat. He gave me, also, a great leathern bottle to hold water, and bade all his servitors to be at my beck and call. He had with him seven middle-aged slaves and one young one, eight hired domestics, and sixty-eight camels. With him were five concubines, and a sixth woman, who was his cousin, Sitti Jamal, of ravishing beauty. He had also a black Dongola horse, with a saddle of green velvet.
Ahmed treated me with all the kindness of a father. When the caravan halted I used to doze away, fatigued by the swinging of the camel and the heat of the sun: he would allow me to sleep until the hour of supper arrived, when he would wake me gently and bring me water, that I might wash. At meals he guided my hand to the dish, and sometimes put the morsels into my mouth.
When we left the wells of Zaghawy we marched for ten days hastily, starting before dawn and trenching on the night. On the eleventh morning we came to Mazroob, a well situated on the confines of Darfur, and in a few hours the Arabs came down to us, bringing large skins of water and little skins full of milk. We congratulated ourselves on the happy termination of our journey, and solaced ourselves at the well during the whole of that day; but next morning we advanced, in four hours, to Souwaineh, where we met the governor of the country, with a suite of five hundred horsemen, who wished us a good journey. This was the Melik Mohammed Sanjak. In Soudan every governor bears the title of Melik, or Mek—that is to say, king.
Having rested at this place two days, we again started; but here our caravan broke up, each taking the direction of his own district. The greatest number went to Kobeih, the capital; but Ahmed, my protector, was from Sarf-el-Dajaj, or the Rivulet of Fowls. I accompanied him, and we advanced slowly for three days, and on the fourth came under the shade of a great mountain, where was a well, on the brink of which we halted to pass the warm hours. A number of persons came here to congratulate us upon our arrival, and among others of my protector, with slaves and servants bearing provisions. We feasted and talked until the sun went down, and, then proceeding, arrived in an hour and a-half at Sarf-el-Dajaj.
The rest of the evening was spent in receiving a crowd of visitors; but Ahmed did not forget me, and ordered a hut to be prepared for my repose. I slept soundly, and next morning went to visit my protector, whom I found sitting gravely surrounded by his servants, his slave-women, and his children, happy, satisfied, and quiet, as if he had not just come off so long a journey. He introduced me to his relations and friends; and several days were spent by me in passing from one house to another, enjoying the festivals given to celebrate the return of the travellers.
I returned one day to my house, a little before twilight, and found there two men and two slaves. One of the two men was short, bronze-coloured, rather agreeable in aspect, and dressed with some elegance. The other was black and poorly accoutred. I sat down, suppressing my surprise at seeing a couple of strangers installed in my chamber. They made signs to one another, looking at me. Then one began to say,—
“Is this really he?”—“Certainly it is he!”
I did not know what they meant, but the bronze-coloured man said,—
“Art thou of this country?”
“No! I come from Cairo to meet my father.”
“Who is thy father?”
“Omar of Tunis.”
Then the black said sharply, “Salute, then, thy uncle, Ahmed Zarrouk!”
So I saluted the bronzed man, who handed to me a letter addressed to Ahmed Bedawee, in which my father paid numerous compliments to my protector, thanking him, and announcing that he had sent, as presents, two slaves of six spans in height, and a sorrel colt. When I had read this missive, the bronzed man told me to go and communicate it to Ahmed, and to take the presents with me. This I did, and my protector, having admired the slaves and the colt, said,—“Blessings! they are magnificent! I accept them, and I give them to my son—this one”—pointing to me.
Both I and my uncle pressed him to keep them, but he would not, saying,—“If I were to expend all my fortune for thy father, it would be little in comparison with the service he has rendered me.”
Upon this I took courage to ask, “What was this service he so often alluded to?”
“Know, my child,” said he, “that my enemies had spoken calumnies against me to his highness the Sultan. I was accused of selling free-women; and with so much cunning and appearance of truth, that the Sultan was convinced, and exclaimed in his rage, ‘A merchant of his rank, possessor of so much wealth, to behave thus! Better he were poor!’ Then he called me before him, and received me with flashing eyes and contemptuous words. I begged that the charges should be examined. They refused. My words were stifled. I was seized, an iron collar was put round my neck, and they were about to throw me into a dungeon. But, thanks to the benevolent providence of God, thy father was present at this scene. Nobody had dared to intercede for me, seeing the mighty anger of the Sultan. Thy father came forward, and having coughed like one about to make a speech, pronounced certain words of the Prophet on pardon, and on the necessity of verifying accusations. Then he implored the clemency of the Sultan for me. The Sultan was moved, and ordered me to be set at liberty. My innocence was afterwards made manifest; but if, at that time, God had not roused up thy father, my life and my property would have been sacrificed. What greater service can be rendered to a man than this? God will reward it. For my part, I had long waited an opportunity to be agreeable to thy father, and I have only been able to do for him this slight kindness. Perhaps it will be counted as part payment of my debt; but I do not think so.”
My uncle wished to depart on the morrow, but Ahmed would not consent, and we remained three days more. On the morning of the fourth day my protector gave me a great quantity of kharaz, or strings of beads used to ornament women’s dresses in Soudan: he also gave me some others, more valuable, used as necklaces. To these he added some beads of yellow amber, and a large agate of a light red colour. All this was worth three female slaves. He presented me likewise with a new turban of green muslin, with some sunbul, sandal-wood, and other perfumes used by the Soudan ladies. “Distribute this,” he said, “to thy father’s wives.” Afterwards he killed a sheep, and roasted it entire, as a parting meal, and having properly saluted us, allowed us to depart.
I mounted a horse, my uncle a dromedary, and the black man an ass. The slaves preceded us. We were bound for a place six days’ distant, called Aboul-Joudoul, where was my father. On our way we passed Kelkabieh, the environs of which reminded me of the country places of Egypt; but the town is better built, richer, and more lively. Many foreigners are seen there. The natives are, for the most part, wealthy merchants, having great numbers of slaves, with which they trade. The district belonging to this town is vast and open, and there are great numbers of wells, the water of which rises nearly to the brim. The date-tree flourishes there, as well as abundance of vegetables: as cucumbers, vegetable marrows, onions, fenugreek, cumin, pepper, and various other plants well known in Egypt. The sour lemon is also found.
Not far off are the mountains of Marrah, which stretch north and south from one end of Darfur nearly to the other, cutting the country into two unequal parts. This range is traversed by a series of defiles, which enable the western and eastern provinces to communicate. The true Forians inhabit these mountains, and shun the plain, where they think themselves in less security.
At Kelkabieh there was a well-frequented market, where we bought provisions and departed, proceeding three days along the mountains of Marrah, until we came to a country, the inhabitants of which, hating travellers, especially Arabs, received us very roughly. Thenceforward we passed over plains, and, having rested at Tarneh, arrived on the sixth day at Joultou, in the district of Aboul-Joudoul. Here we saw a house, at the gate of which were horses, asses, and servants. My father was receiving visitors. We entered, and a number of young black slave-girls came running to meet us, and surrounded us, welcoming our arrival. Then the guests of my father went away, and he approached us, and testified his joy at beholding me. I kissed his hand, and remained standing before him out of respect. He ordered me to be seated. I obeyed; and a little after he said,—
“What studies hast thou pursued? What hast thou learned?”
“The Koran,” replied I, “and something of scientific matters.”
These words rejoiced him.
The day after my arrival my father gave a great feast, slaughtering an ox and several sheep, and inviting all his friends. We passed a day of joy. A short time afterwards he requested my uncle and me to get ready and go up to the steps of the throne, to offer, in his name, presents to the Sultan, to his Grand Vizier, and to his Vizier.
The Sultan, Mohammed Fadhl, son of Abd-er-Rahman, was at that time very young, so that the government was in the hands of Mohammed Kourra, the Grand Vizier. It was he who had placed the boy on the throne at the death of his father. Report said that he was derived from the slaves of the palace; but this is not true, for he was of free birth. He was a devoted minister, and well fitted to govern, endowed with genius, sagacity, and courage. No man knew better than he to guide political matters.
We started, according to my father’s desire, for Tendelty, at that time the seat of the Sultan. This place was called the Fasher, it being the custom in Darfur to apply that name to whatever spot the Sultan chose for his habitation. On the third day we arrived, and found the city filled with crowds of people; there was constant moving to and fro of foot-passengers and of horsemen, and the people were sitting in groups before their doors; the air was filled with the sound of tambourines and the trampling of cavalry. We repaired at once to the house of the Vizier, Fakih-Malik, to whom my father was immediately subject. He was in the midst of his servants and his suite, and various public officers, but received us with politeness and benevolence, and ordered a place to be prepared for our baggage. Then he offered to conduct us to the palace of Sheikh Mohammed Kourra, which we found surrounded on all sides by the horses, dromedaries, and asses of people who had come to obtain audience. The dignitaries of the state surrounded him. I was introduced as the son of the learned Shereef Omar, of Tunis, and was well received, as were also the presents. He spoke in terms of compliment of my father, and ordered Malik to lodge us. We remained at Tendelty three days, in the midst of honours, festivals, and contentment. Then I was called to audience, and received a present of a green shawl and other garments, two beautiful slaves, and a negro. Then he wrote a complimentary letter, and dismissed me well pleased. As for Malik, he gave me a young slave-girl, whom he described in the letter he also sent, as “firm-bosomed, solid as a cube, and of the age of the Houris.” She was named Hamaidah. Well contented to be the bearer of these presents, I returned to my father, and rejoiced his sight.
CHAPTER III.
Omar plans a Visit to Tunis — The Sheikh is established at Aboul-Joudoul — Unfairly deserted by his Father — Insurrection of Mohammed Kourra — His Death — Gallant Fight — Sketch of the History of the Kings of Darfur — Tyrab — Anecdote of the Birguids — A Strange Dowry — Story of the Sultan Abou-Bekr — True Love — Another Story of Passion — Rise of Kourra — A black Economist — Expedition to Kordofal — Its Origin — Designs of Tyrab — A Conspiracy against his Life — Death of Ali Bargou — Diplomacy — Kourra and the chief Wife of Tyrab — Plot — Death of Tyrab — Elevation of the Orphan.
I remained in repose at my father’s house until the month of Ramadhan, when my father went to the Fasher to salute the Sultan. There he met the Grand Vizier, Kourra, and begged permission of him to be allowed to go to Tunis, that he might see his mother before her death. He added, that he would leave me in Darfur, for the country where my father resided was a kind of fief which had been confided to him by the late Sultan. He had at first, however, been placed at Guerly, but had refused to remain there, because the inhabitants had no knowledge of the Arabic language. His present district contained three villages. It was agreed, therefore, that I should be settled in that country, that I should collect the taxes, and cultivate it for my advantage.
When Kourra had exacted from my father a promise that he would return to Darfur, he gave him permission to depart, and wrote letters to the chiefs of the various provinces through which he would have to pass, ordering them to receive him and furnish him with escorts. So my father bade adieu to Kourra, and returned to us, thinking of nothing but his journey. He prepared to set out as soon as possible. He sold his cotton, of which he had sown twenty feddans, and turned all he possessed into money, even his flocks, and his oxen, and his asses. He took with him his slave-women, his blacks, and all that I had received from Ahmed Bedawee and from the Sheikh Kourra. He left me only a single slave-woman, who had a web in her eye, called Farhanah, two blacks, with their wives, an ass, and a sick dromedary. He also left me one of his wives, called Zohrah, and his brother’s wife, each of whom had a daughter. He sold all his grain-pits, except one, which he gave to me. He then placed in my hands the contract of donation of lands which had been ceded to him by the late Sultan. This document, having enumerated the various titles of the prince, constituted Omar of Tunis the absolute master of the district of Aboul-Joudoul and its three villages. Having thus provided for me, my father put his baggage on his camels, and went away with his slaves, his harem, and his brother, and left me to myself.
Now it came to pass in the month of Regeb, 1219, that the Ab Sheikh, Mohammed Kourra, was killed in a battle during a revolt, in which he was engaged in spite of himself, and in which he was obliged to make war against the Sultan Mohammed Fadhl. His enemies excited the prince against him by their calumnies, accusing him of a desire to dethrone him in favour of his brother. It was this that caused the weather to become cloudy between them. The Sultan tried to seize Kourra, but he escaped from his hands, and went to live among his people in his house, still in the same province. Not being able to reduce him in any other way, the Sultan sent soldiers to prevent him from getting water from the lake in Tendelty. For three days Kourra got water from a distance, but not in sufficient quantities, so that his partisans began to suffer from thirst, and murmured against fortune, and insisted on being led away. But Kourra assembled them, and marching down to the lake, defeated the guards there placed. Upon this the royal army advanced, but was defeated with terrible loss, and the Sultan fled away to the opposite side of the lake. During the night Kourra began to count his loss, and found that his brother had been killed. So he exclaimed, “For whose sake do I now fight? I care for nothing else in life!” And he ordered his people on the next battle not to follow him amidst the foe. This order caused great desertion in his camp, for people felt that he had ceased to wish for victory. In the morning the tambourines gave the signal of combat, and the troops of the Sultan advanced on horseback. Kourra mounted on his war-steed, and dashed at once into the mêlée, breaking the lines opposed to him, until he came in presence of the Sultan, and might have killed him; but he stopped, remembering the benefits he had derived from his father, and exclaimed, “Thou hast listened to the calumnies circulated against me, and this is the way in which you recompense my services.” The Sultan was alarmed, and trembled, and wished to fly, and called out to his people, “There he is—he is going to kill me!” So from all sides they rushed upon Kourra, and surrounded him, as the ring surrounds the finger. The Ab, seeing that there was no salvation for him, fought like a lion, and many warriors fell beneath his sword. He soon became covered with wounds, but, in spite thereof, he fought in the midst of the crowd for nearly an hour, until some one, coming behind, hamstrung his horse. Then he fell, and, being heavy with his double iron-mail, could not get up again; so his enemies rushed upon him like dogs upon their prey, and he was killed. May the mercy of God be upon him!
Then they stripped him, and found that he had more than a hundred wounds from sabre or lance. Meanwhile the son of his wife—he was himself an eunuch[8]—named Shilfoot, came, breaking through the crowd, in the hopes of finding him still alive, and rescuing him—but it was too late; so he fell right and left upon the enemy, killing numbers of them, and shouting, “Come, the price! the price! Pay me the price of Kourra!” At length, however, he also fell.
Such was the end of the great Ab Sheikh, Mohammed Kourra; and I will now relate his life, and how he raised himself to power; and I will set down, at the same time, what I have learned from several old men about the history of the Sultans of Darfur.
The Sultan Mohammed Fadhl was son of the Sultan Abd-er-Rahman, who was son of the Sultan Ahmed Bekr. The latter had seven sons, Omar, Abûl Kasim, Riz, Rifa, Tyrab, Tahir, and Abd-er-Rahman, surnamed El-Yatim, or The Orphan—because, at the death of his father, he was still unborn. When Ahmed Bekr saw that his hour was drawing nigh, he assembled around him the dignitaries of the state, and declared it to be his last will that the Sultanship should pass alternately from one of his sons to another, as death took them off; but that the children of each should not reign until all the seven were dead. So Omar governed in the first place, and reigned until he fell in battle against the sovereign of Wadaï. His successor, Abûl Kasim, also reigned seven years, and was killed in the same way. To him succeeded Tyrab, surnamed the Seeds of Syria, who hated war, and remained at home, occupied in the cares of government for thirty-three years. He loved boisterous amusements, and was fond of dress. During his reign there was fertility and peace, and all provisions were cheap. But, towards the end of his life, he was detested on account of the extravagant conduct of his children, who were in number more than thirty, without counting the girls. These princes were ever wandering on horseback through Darfur; and if they heard of any valuable thing at once seized it as their property. Every one suffered by them and feared them. One went so far as to give up riding on horseback, and would only ride upon men, seizing any passers-by, and compelling them to carry him. Complaints were made to the prince, who would not, however, believe or pay any attention to them. The eldest of his sons was called Izhak, surnamed the Kaliph, and was brave, intelligent, but avaricious and tyrannical.
Tyrab was addicted to debauch and to pleasure. Often young girls and boys played and danced together in his presence, and he loved to behold them. One day a troop of Birguids came to the Fasher. These people have a particular dance, called Tendegueh, during which, when the couples are tired, they go, lads and lasses, two by two, to sit together; and so, after they had danced before the Sultan, they went thus to sit two by two, and one of the dancers said to his partner,—
“Wilt thou take me for thy husband?”
“Yes; but what wilt thou give me for a dowry?”
“Alas! I am poor; I can give thee nothing more valuable than he who is opposite me.”
This was the Sultan.
“Very good,” said the girl: “I accept.”
Now it happened that Tyrab was observing their signs, and called them to him, and asked for an explanation. The young man boldly said,—
“I was asking my sweetheart here, if she would marry me; she consents, but asks for a dowry; and I have answered her that I have none other to give but thee.”
“This is a singular dowry,” said Tyrab; “and has she accepted?”
“Certainly,” said the young man.
Then the Sultan said to the girl,—
“Wilt thou allow me to take a substitute, and to pay a ransom?”
“Willingly,” answered she; “I consent—I accept.”
So Tyrab sent for the father of the young girl, and asked her in marriage, and drew out the contract with her father; and gave to the bride for dowry two beautiful slaves, and to the bridegroom a handsome negro; and, moreover, added wherewith to live comfortably. Verily, this was a fine trait, for there is nothing more excellent than to unite those who love by a pure tie.
A similar story is told of the Kaliph, Abou-Bekr. He used to wander by night through the Brilliant City, in order to know the true state of his people, and to discover who was the victim of oppression. In one of his rounds he heard in the street a young girl singing these verses:—
“Alas, I loved him even before they tore away my talisman;
In his walk he describes the graceful bending of a branch:
His countenance is like the lustre of the full moon—
Like it, he appears and disappears,
And he is of the stock of Hashim.”
Abou-Bekr knocked at the door, and said to this young girl,—
“Who is he that thou lovest?”
“Depart from hence,” cried she.
He persisted, saying: “Thou must tell me the name of him thou lovest.”
“By the name of the Prophet, who is now in his tomb, I conjure thee to depart from hence!”
“By the name of God, I will not go away until thou hast told me who is the object of thy love!”
Then she heaved a profound sigh, and replied,—
“An unhappy flame consumes me; I am full of trouble. I love Mohammed, son of Kasim.”
“But art thou free?”
“No; I am a slave.”
“Of whom?”
“Of such a one,” naming him.
Then Abou-Bekr went away, and, in the morning, learned that the son of Kasim was upon an expedition in Irak. So he bought the young slave-girl, and sent her with a letter to her lover, explaining what had come to pass; and adding, “My son, how many hearts have sickened unto death for women! and how many virgins have languished in disappointment!”
This reminds me of another story. Suleiman, son of Abdel Malik, was of an extremely jealous disposition, and sometimes put to death individuals whom he suspected of having cast an eye of covetousness on any of his women. Once he called a singer to him: it was daytime; he caused him to sit at the foot of his bed and to sing. Now, it happened that the weather was warm, and a young slave-girl was employed in fanning him, and the combined influence of the music and the cool air sent him to sleep. The singer, whose eyes had been downcast, suddenly looked up and saw the Kaliph slumbering, and the young girl still waving the fan. He fixed his looks upon her, and she seemed to him to be splendid as the sun at the fourth hour of the day. He became troubled, but he dared not speak, for the Kaliph was there. Tears of love gushed from beneath his eyelids, and passion burned within him. He took a piece of paper and wrote upon it these two verses,—
“I have seen thee in a dream—I have seen thee beside me—I drank the cool dew of thy lips.
“Yes, yes, we have passed the time together on the same couch!”
He threw this paper to the young girl, who took it, and added three other verses,—
“Thou hast seen aright: everything that thou darest to hope for thou shalt obtain, even if the jealous one has his face dragged in the dust.
“Yes, thou shalt pass the time by my side, between the bracelets of my wrists: thou shalt come upon my lips and in my arms.
“We shall be the first lovers who have been united in spite of fate and the jealous one.”
She threw the paper to the singer, but the Kaliph stretched out his hand and caught it as it passed, and read it. His eyes flashed, and he exclaimed,—
“What motive has guided you? Is this an old intrigue, or is it sudden love that has made you drunk?”
“By the heaven above, it is the love of an instant. No word bound as together.”
And tears of fear fell from their eyes. The Kaliph’s heart was softened, and, turning to the singer, he said,—
“Take her, but never again appear in my sight.”
As I have said, Sultan Tyrab lived to a great age. He had many wives and concubines, and thirty of his sons at a time were able to ride on horseback: Mohammed Kourra was a mere boy when he entered his service. The Sultan put him among the korkoas, or lancers, who march behind the Sultan when he rides out, and guard him during his audiences. But they are not exclusively devoted to the guard of the prince, but follow also the inferior governors. They suggest the idea of authority. Kourra remained a certain time in this chosen corps, and gave proof of great sagacity. Tyrab loved him, and placed him in the service of the Saum-in-Dogolah, or imperial mansion, a place of great consequence. In his new position, Kourra rendered himself indispensable, and Tyrab generally consulted only him. This roused the jealousy of his colleagues, and one day one of them said to the Sultan, “Kourra is a traitor: I see him every day with one of your concubines, who slyly gives him the best dishes from the kitchen.” The Sultan upon this determined to revenge himself, but Kourra, hearing what had happened, took a knife, and, shutting himself up alone in a hut, with his own hand mangled himself. Coming forth, he presented himself before the Sultan who was in a neighbouring hut, and said,—“I was accused of betraying thee, but that is now impossible; I hope I shall no longer be suspected,” Then he fainted, and the Sultan, deeply moved, ordered him be treated with the greatest care.
When Kourra was cured, Tyrab gave him into the care of one of his Viziers, the Emin Aly Wad Jami, and ordered him to be well treated. The Emin received this charge with reluctance. But, nevertheless, Kourra was at length named chief of the guard of the Saum-in-Dogolah. In this position he distinguished himself by a more economical and methodical arrangement of the dishes supplied to each department of the palace; so that every one was better satisfied than before, and there remained sufficient to serve as presents to people who happened to be receiving strangers. It was supposed that these presents came from the Vizier, for Kourra had the prudence to conceal his share in the matter. Many people came to give thanks for what they had received, and he, whilst listening to them, was puzzled, and could not understand wherefore they praised him. One day, on coming out of the harem, he perceived Kourra distributing dishes, and stopped and hid himself to listen. Presently he heard a voice saying,—“How many strangers are there with such a king?”—“So many.”—“Then take him so many dishes, and do not forget to say that the Emin sent them.” In this way Kourra forwarded a variety of presents, and the Vizier discovered the origin of the praises that had been given him, and was pleased, and raised him to the rank of superintendent of the stud—a very high dignity. Kourra remained at this post until he accompanied the Vizier to Kordofal with the Sultan Tyrab.
I shall say a few words of the origin of this expedition. In former days there was a Sultan, named Saloun, who divided with his brother the country which they had inherited—Saloun taking Darfur, and his brother Kordofal, which had formerly been united under one government. They swore never to undertake any intrigue one against the other, and they and their descendants remained in peace for nearly two centuries, until the time of Sultan Tyrab. Sultan Hashim, prince of Kordofal, then collected a great army, and being of an ambitious disposition, determined, it is said, to conquer Darfur. He began by sending marauding parties to the frontiers, and when his cousin wrote to him, begging to cease his molestations, answered insolently. Tyrab, therefore, resolved to make war, or, at least, chose this as a pretext. The real reason, however, was, that he had formed a plan for breaking through the law of succession laid down by Ahmed Bekr at his death. He wished to leave his throne to Izhak, the Kaliph, and resolved to send the sons and grandsons of Ahmed Bekr, and of the great people, into battle, that they might be killed, and so that there should be nobody to oppose his designs. His secret, however, was discovered, and, indeed, his whole plan subsequently failed, by the death of his son, Izhak, who was killed in battle, as will be seen.
At the news of the approach of Tyrab, Hashim fled away with his suite and family, and took refuge in Sennaar, so that Kordofal was conquered with ease. The Sultan ransacked the country, and reduced the people to silence, and remained there until the next year, when his troops and his followers loudly demanded to be allowed to return to Darfur. He, however, pretended that Hashim was about to return, and that it was necessary to remain to resist him. Soon, however, the disgust of the army increased, and secret councils began to be held. At one of these, the Vizier, Ali Wad Bargou, whose daughter Tyrab had married, said boldly,—“What will you give me if I kill the Sultan? I will get rid of him, and you shall put in his place whom you please.” Those whose children Tyrab had taken out to expose them to the danger of being killed promised him great wealth if he succeeded, and it was agreed that the roll of a drum should give the signal of assistance.
At close of day Ali Bargou put on two cuirasses of solid mail, and concealed them with his clothes and, taking his sword, penetrated into the palace, where was his daughter. He knew the love which Tyrab bore her, and thought that the prince might be there; but he found only the princess, who at once perceived something sinister in his countenance. Ali asked news of the Sultan. She replied, that she would go and fetch him, and he told her to do so; but at the same time she perceived the edge of the cuirass shining above his garment, and went and betrayed him, and the guards came, and, after a vigorous resistance, put him to death. This done, the drum of alarm was beaten, and the Viziers and other dignitaries began to collect, thinking that the conspiracy had succeeded. They found the Sultan surrounded by his guards, and dressed in a black garment, with a red turban pulled over his eyes. These are the signs of anger. The corpse of Bargou was brought out, wrapped in a cloak, and uncovered. “Now,” said Tyrab, “do you know who that is, and why he is here?” They thought themselves betrayed, and were humble, but explained that they desired to return to their own country. Their language revealed that there was danger of a revolt, and the Sultan determined to temporise. He promised to return as soon as his health was re-established, for he pretended to be ill, and soon afterwards shut himself up in his palace, as if he were in danger. For this deception he was punished. God afflicted him in reality with disease, so he wrote a letter to the Kaliph, Izhak, begging him to come and join him, and presently the news got abroad that he was at the last extremity: some even said that he was really dead.
Now, Mohammed Kourra used often to visit Kinaneh, the chief wife of Tyrab, who bore the title of Yakoury, or queen, which, however, is sometimes given to the other wives. This princess was a woman of great sagacity, and, knowing that Tyrab was near death, spoke to Kourra, and asked his advice. He replied, that the best plan would be to follow the fortunes of the Orphan, to whom the empire would certainly fall, and promised that he would get her named Yakoury, and her son appointed Kaliph. Izhak was sprung from another legitimate wife of Tyrab. Kourra made the treaty in secret, and stipulated for the position of Ab, which is always held by an eunuch. Meanwhile the illness of Tyrab increased, and he called his Viziers around him, and expressed his last desires, especially stipulating that the army should be placed under the orders of Izhak. They promised to obey him, and retired. Shortly afterwards Tyrab died, and Kinaneh immediately despatched Kourra to the Orphan with the chaplet of the Sultan, his handkerchief, his seal, and his amulet, as a proof of the death of the prince. The Viziers, who had received the last orders of Tyrab, returned and found him dead. They regretted that they had left him, and immediately embalmed the body, and placed it in a palanquin, and intended to start for Darfur, pretending that the Sultan was ill. Their object was to deliver the whole country into the hands of Izhak. But Sheikh Kourra, in the meantime, had gone to the Orphan, and told him what had happened, and he came to the palace with two of his elder brothers, and caused it to be understood that they knew what had occurred. The Viziers, who wished to obey the last orders of Tyrab, were astonished, and began to fear that their plan would fail; but among them was the Emin Aly Wad Jami, who declared that he would abide by the orders he had received. So he called Kourra, and said to him,—“Go, and tell my son, Mohammed, to arm his soldiers, and come to the palace.” But Kourra, who had gone over to the party of the Orphan, ordered the soldiers to place themselves under his command; and Aly Jami, finding himself betrayed, poisoned himself.
CHAPTER IV.
New Sultan — Anecdotes of the Orphan — Death of Izhak — Just Administration — The Ulemas — A Mamlook Refugee — Conspiracy — How it was defeated — The Reward of Kinaneh — An ignorant Vizier — Mohammed Kourra — Instance of his great Wisdom — He is appointed Ab — Death of Abd-er-Rahman — Fadhl succeeds to the Throne.
It was now necessary to proceed to the election of a new Sultan, and after some discussion the council of princes procured the setting aside of Riz, on account of his violent character, and of Tahir, on account of the number of his children, and placed Abd-er-Rahman, the Orphan, upon the throne. Every one was satisfied with the choice, and great rejoicings filled the country.
The youth of Abd-er-Rahman had been exemplary. He had learned the Koran by heart, and had applied himself to the study of laws. He had never imitated the bad habits common to the sons of the Sultans of Darfur, who used to ride through the country and treat every Forian as if he had been a slave. From his earliest age he had been without reproach, and pure, and if he arrived, during his travels, at any place, he used to say, “I am the host of God,” and if he were well received, he remained, and, if not, he went his way. It is related that, in one of his travels, he put up in the house of a man belonging to the Berli tribe. This man recognised him, and killed a fat sheep for his sake. Upon which the Orphan said,—
“My friend, might we not have been satisfied with less than this? If thou hadst killed a fowl, it would have been sufficient.”
“No, my master, no! I swear by God, if I had possessed a she-camel, I would have killed it for thee! Art thou not Abd-er-Rahman, the son of our Sultan?”
“And how dost thou know me?”
“I know thee by thy virtues and thy piety, and I predict that days of glory await thee.”
“Then I, too, swear by the name of God, that if ever I become king, I will give thee wherewith to enjoy better cheer than this!”
He kept his promise, and when he became Sultan appointed his host to be tax-gatherer over the Arab tribe called the Madmen. Many similar stories are told of him, and the country was full of predictions that it would be the Orphan who would succeed Tyrab. The latter prince once tried to poison him, but failed. It was generally reported that his love of science overcame all other passions. He went about in an old ragged shirt, with a wooden chaplet in his hand. He remained in celibacy until his beard began to whiten, being, in fact, too poor to buy a slave or to marry. He never had a companion until, on his way to Kordofal with his brother, the Sultan, a king gave him as a present an ugly slave, named Anbousah, by whom he had a son, the Sultan Mohammed Fadhl, who now reigns.
Abd-er-Rahman distinguished himself by vigour at the outset of his reign, abolished the custom of seven days of laziness after the inauguration, and prepared to depart for Darfur, and dispute the possession of the country with Izhak. The two hostile armies met and fought twice. During the second battle, it is said, at mid-day the stars appeared in the sky. I have seen the battle-field; it is perfectly arid, and I was told that no plant would grow there on account of the quantity of blood that had been spilt. Izhak was defeated on both occasions, and retired into the northern provinces, where he reigned for some time with great cruelty, and gained some advantages in the war that ensued. The struggle continued for a long time, until the Kaliph was killed in a battle by Zabady, an Egyptian fellah, who shot him from a distance. This ended the war, and Abd-er-Rahman became sovereign of the whole country, and established his Fasher at Tendelty.
When the Orphan was free from the anxieties of war he applied himself to administrative reforms, and did everything he could to increase the prosperity of the country. He repressed the habit of drunkenness and debauchery that had prevailed, and rendered the roads so secure that a woman could travel there with all her ornaments. Commerce increased, and comfort was spread through the country. Justice and equity prevailed. He had no pity on those who committed an act of violence or spoliation of any kind, however nearly related.
It has been related to me that he was once met, as he returned from the chase, by two Arabs, one of whom addressed him in these words:—“An injustice has been done me, O Rashid![9] may God preserve thee, an injustice has been done me!” Now, it is the custom among the Forians, that whoever has been a victim of violence utters the cry called Karourak, which is never uttered on any other occasion. The sound is produced by the help of two fingers inserted into the mouth, and moved rapidly from side to side, whilst the letter K is intonated, followed by a paralysed R. Well, one of our Arabs was rolling the Karourak, and repeating “May God preserve the Rashid, I am the victim of an injustice!” but the Sultan, at first, paid no heed, either being occupied by some idea, or not hearing, on account of the sound of the tambourines, and the songs and the hurrahs of the soldiers. The Arab had Karouraked several times, and the Sultan had not asked the reason. Then the other Arab said to his companion, “Let him alone; Rashid is all for himself, and cares nothing for thee.” The Sultan heard these words, and asked what was meant. The man replied,—
“My friend here has Karouraked several times, and has complained to thee. This was the origin of my remark.”
The Sultan smiled, and said,—
“Not so, I am not all for myself. Who has done thee injury?”
“Basy-Khabir.”[10]
Now, Basy-Khabir was one of the relations of the Orphan, who, however, asked,—“What has he taken from thee?”
“He has taken five she-camels.”
The Sultan inquired into this charge, and having found it to be true, condemned Khabir to give back ten camels instead of five.
Abd-er-Rahman nominated, as he had promised, Mohammed Kourra to the post of Father-Sheikh, the highest dignity in Darfur. He who bears it is invested with the right of life and death, and has a court and insignia like the Sultan. No one but an eunuch can occupy this post, because it is feared that whoever occupies it may be induced to conspire to raise himself to the throne. When Kourra was confirmed in his dignity of Ab, the Sultan sent him to the provinces, and he established himself at Aboul-Joudoul.
If the Sultan was severe towards criminals, he was remarkable for his benevolence for Ulemas and Shereefs, and other learned men, who came flocking to visit him from all sides. Among these was my father, who, when he arrived in Darfur, had gone to live at Kobeih, in the house of a sheikh. Many of the principal learned men of the country came here to visit him, and beg him to explain the book of the Sheikh Khalil on Muslim canon law, which he did. The news of his learning came to the ears of the Sultan, who called him to his court, and lodged him in the house of one of his sons-in-law, named Nour-el-Ansary. This man was a Fakih, and loved knowledge. He studied with my father, and spoke of his learning to the Sultan, who read on scientific subjects with my father during the month of Ramadhan. He also requested my father to comment for him the book on the privileges accorded by God to the Prophet, by a Turkish writer, and he produced a commentary, called “The Perfect Pearl,” which he afterwards followed by another work of the same nature, called “The Equal Pearls.”
Abd-er-Rahman was likewise generous, as well as just and pure in manners. He was of middle size, of a dark black complexion, with a beard speckled with white, and a coarse and deep voice. He easily became angry, but he calmed promptly, and pardoned easily. He was possessed of presence of mind and tact, of which I shall give some examples. When the French came to Cairo, and the Mamlouks were driven away, one of the Kashefs, named Zawanah, fled to Darfur, along with about ten other Mamlouks. He had with him also considerable property, with camels, servants, a cook, a valet, and several grooms; he had also with him a cannon and a howitzer. Upon his arrival, he was well received by Abd-er-Rahman, who gave him a dwelling-place, and assigned to him a revenue, and bestowed upon him numerous female slaves. After a little while he begged permission to build a house, like those of Cairo; and, having caused bricks to be baked, got together a number of workmen, chosen among the black slaves, to cut stones, and constructed a habitation of some grandeur. He surrounded it by a wall of extraordinary solidity, with two embrasures turned towards the palace, which this little fortress completely commanded. The fact was, that this Ghouz had formed the mad plan of killing Abd-er-Rahman, and seizing on the government of Darfur. His idea was, that some day, when the Sultan came out with his courtiers, he would fire a volley of grape-shot among them, and thus clear the way to the throne.
However, Zawanah feared, that after the accomplishment of the assassination of the Orphan, the Forians would refuse to obey him. He therefore put himself in communication with the prince, whose sister had married Sultan Tyrab, and proposed to him that they should put his nephew on the throne. The prince agreed to this project, and the conspiracy widened, until one of the chief courtiers was tampered with. This man went and betrayed the whole to the Sultan, who told him to seem to consent, and to keep the secret. Next day Zawanah went to visit Abd-er-Rahman, who received him with more distinction than ever, and presented him with a hundred male slaves, and a hundred female slaves, and a hundred she-camels, and a hundred jars of butter, and a hundred jars of honey, and a hundred loads of millet. He clothed him also in a red shawl and a piece of red cloth, and girded him with the sword, and gave him a horse with a saddle embroidered with gold. The Kashef, transported with joy, departed. “These objects,” said he, “are sent to me by God, to help me towards success!” In the evening, an hour and a-half after the setting of the sun, the Sultan called one of the kings, and ordered him to be on the watch with his soldiers for the time when Zawanah should return to the palace, and then to go and seize his house, and take possession of everything it contained.
These orders having been given, the Sultan sent a lad to the Kashef, to invite him to spend the evening, and he came immediately, and was received with politeness. Some of his servants tried to follow him, but were stopped at the third gate, and told to wait for their master. Abd-er-Rahman sat conversing with the Kashef until a late hour, when he began to say, “I am very hungry,” and ordered food to be brought. A piece of roast meat was placed before them, and a knife was called for, but none was at hand. Upon this the Kashef produced one, and wished to carve; but some of those present begged him not to give himself that trouble, and took away the knife. He then produced his poignard, which was also taken from him. The Sultan now gave a signal, and Zawanah was seized and bound.
“What evil have I done thee,” said the prince, “that thou shouldest seek to assassinate me, to seduce my soldiers, and lead them to revolt?”
“Prince, listen to me!”
“God will not listen to thee, even if I were to listen;” and he gave orders that the Kashef should be put to death immediately. They cut his throat as they would that of a sheep. Shortly afterwards they brought to the palace all the wealth that the Kashef possessed, and there remained nothing in the house, which was demolished, so that not a trace was left.[11]
The servants and people of Zawanah were pardoned, but all the natives who had been connected with the conspiracy were, one by one, at different times, seized and put to death. The brother-in-law of Tyrab, among others, after having been allowed for some time to suppose that he was not suspected, was put to death much in the same way as Zawanah, and all his property was confiscated. All this was accomplished in the adroitest manner possible; and, one by one, the whole of Abd-er-Rahman’s enemies fell before him.
It will be remembered that he had promised great privilege and power to the Yakoury Kinaneh; but, when he had reached the throne, he neglected to fulfil the promises he had made, either on account of business, which occupied him, or because he feared something from this clever woman or her son, Habib. Angry at this indifference, and finding herself forgotten in the harem, and separated from her son, who lived at a distance, the Yakoury set on foot a conspiracy to place Habib on the throne, for she had lost all hope of his elevation, according to the arrangement made, since a new son had been born to Abd-er-Rahman. This prince, however, though he had neglected her, had maintained her in the rank of Yakoury, having supreme authority in the interior of the palace.
She set about the execution of her project in the following manner:—
“My son,” said she to Abd-er-Rahman, “wishes to give a great feast, and I should be glad to help him by sending dishes from hence.”
The Sultan gave permission, and she accordingly prepared great wooden bowls, and placed therein coats of mail and swords, and put food upon the top, and sent forth a hundred at a time, in order to prepare for an insurrection. Having succeeded the first time, she allowed some days to pass, and again asked permission to send to her son the materials of a second repast. Again the Sultan consented, for he did not suspect that Kinaneh harboured any evil design against him, for he was a man without guile or thought of evil.
Kinaneh was successful a second time, and, some days afterwards, she determined to make a third attempt. But, about this time, Abd-er-Rahman perceived, by accident, with Kinaneh, a young girl whom she was bringing up, and who was of high birth and extraordinary beauty. He became enamoured of her, and resolved to speak to the Yakoury, that he might marry her; but Kinaneh, who had seen the effect produced by the girl’s beauty, and who destined her for her son Habib, punished her for allowing herself to be seen. This was the cause of the failure of her conspiracy. The girl, angered by her ill-treatment, and knowing of her conspiracy, escaped, and went and spoke secretly to the Sultan, and announced to him that Kinaneh was carrying away weapons from the armoury of his highness, and that all the dishes sent for the festivals concealed cuirasses and swords.
“If you doubt the truth of this,” said she, “upset one of the bowls which are to be carried forth to-morrow, and you will be convinced.”
The Sultan begged her not to speak of what she knew to any one, and she left him agitated and disquieted.
Next day Abd-er-Rahman was informed, by a man whom he had set as a watch, that the bowls destined for Habib were about to be carried forth. He went immediately and ordered the covers to be taken off, that he might look at the dishes prepared. Among them was one of which he was very fond, so he said,—
“Leave me this, and pour it out into little vases; I want to eat of it.”
The slaves were about to obey, when Kinaneh came in hastily, and said,—
“Prince, I conjure you not to touch these dishes. I will prepare for you exactly similar.”
“No,” said he, “for what you may now make may not please me so well.”
Kinaneh was obliged to yield, and said,—
“Well, let the slaves carry away the others, and keep that one.”
“No,” said he, “empty it, and when you have filled it again, you may take away the whole together.”
So the bowl was emptied, and a cuirass was found at the bottom.
“Oh!” said the Sultan, “what is this?”
Kinaneh was troubled, and knew not what to answer. She was immediately seized, and all the bowls were upset, and found to be full of weapons and money.
“What evil have I done to thee?” said the Sultan to the Yakoury. “Wherefore dost thou conspire against me?”
Kinaneh had nothing to say in reply, and she was immediately put to death. Her son was seized and sent into prison, in the Marrah mountains, and all his wealth was confiscated. As for his accomplices, they were put to death every one, and the country remained tranquil.
Abd-er-Rahman raised to the post of Vizier the Fakih Malik-el-Foutawy, whom he believed to be a man of knowledge and property. This man pretended to know the secret of letters and sciences, although his ignorance was complete. He affected great piety and contempt of the things of this world. When he was raised to the Viziership, he caused to be placed under his authority all the Fullans of Darfur, for he was of that race himself; and he took their part, and protected them even against just complaints. My father has related to me, as an instance of the ignorance of this Vizier, that the Sultan begged him to preach on the day of the festival of Bairam. He asked my father to compose his oration for him. So he composed it, and wrote at the end:—“By the servant of God, the humble one, who implores his bounty, Omar of Tunis, son of Suleiman, on such a day, of such a year;” and delivered the paper to the Fakih. On the day of the festival, having prayed with the Sultan, the Fakih got into the pulpit, and delivered his sermon with great energy, ending with these words:—“By the servant of God, the humble one, who implores his bounty, Omar of Tunis, son of Suleiman, on such a day, of such a year.” He thought this was part of the sermon.
Let us now return to Mohammed Kourra. The Sultan considerably extended the power of this Sheikh, and raised him so high that nobody in the state could approach him. Now the news came that Hashim, who had been expelled from Kordofal by Tyrab, had returned, and retaken the country; so Abd-er-Rahman got together a great army, and placed it under the command of Kourra, who departed, and completely succeeded. He reconquered Kordofal, and drove Hashim into the desert. He remained seven years in that country, sending, from time to time, great riches to his sovereign. But jealous enemies calumniated him, and Abd-er-Rahman sent a general, with an army, to replace him. His object was to test the submission of Kourra. So he gave to the general a pair of fetters, telling him to put them upon Kourra’s feet, and send him back to Darfur. When the general arrived in Kordofal he went to Kourra, expecting to meet with resistance, but the Ab said,—
“Who has ordered thee, and what must be done?”
“I must put these fetters on thy feet, and send thee to the Sultan.”
“I am ready. Give me the fetters.”
Kourra put them on with his own hand, and called a workman to rivet them, and next day set out, and in due time arrived in Darfur.
When the Sultan heard of what had taken place, he said to his courtiers: “Was I not right to say that Kourra would never revolt against me?” And he sent a person to take off his fetters, and received the Ab with great state, and gave him a pair of bracelets of gold, and raised him to a still higher degree of dignity and power. This wise conduct was afterwards useful to his son, Mohammed Fadhl. For, when Abd-er-Rahman died, the Ab took charge of the interests of this prince, and succeeded in placing him upon the throne. Great energy was required to bring about this result, and an insurrection took place against the new Sultan, who, in fact, was a mere boy. Kourra did all he could to instruct him, and to improve his mind, and to prepare him for government. Fadhl was not a willing scholar, but he was compelled to obey, and he passed two years in study, which to him was intolerably disagreeable. During this time Kourra governed with a strong hand, and kept the country quiet; but the people around the court, discontented with his severity, at length excited the Sultan to get rid of him. Kourra, therefore, was obliged to defend himself by arms, and shortly afterwards perished, as we have already related, and God knows all things!
CHAPTER V.[12]
Line of African Kingdoms — Takrour — Description of Dar-el-Four — Wandering Arabs — The Barajoub — The Forians — North-western Provinces — Dajo and Bijo — Birguids — Marrah Mountaineers — Division of the Country — Cavern Prisons — A Visit to the Marrah — Strange Inhabitants — The Sheikh of the Mountain — Genii — Gathering of Guides — An Oratory — Wild Savages — The Prisons — Women — Curious Customs — Spirits called Damzog — Stories of them — Prophetic Drum.
Darfur, or, more properly, Dar-el-fur, the country of Fur, is the third kingdom of Soudan, counting from east to west. The first is Sennaar; the second Kordofal; the fourth is Wadaï; the fifth Bagirmeh; the sixth Bornou; the seventh Adagez;[13] the eighth Afnou; the ninth Timbuktou; the tenth Dar-Mella, where resides the King of the Fullan, or Fellatahs.
Formerly, the name of Takrour was applied only to the inhabitants of Bornou, but it is now extended to all the people who live between the eastern limit of Wadaï and the western limit of Bornou; so that it includes, besides these two countries, Bagirmeh, Katakou, and Mandarah. Some days ago I met, at Cairo, an individual whom I recognised as a Soudanee. I asked him to what country he belonged. He replied, “I am a Takrour.” “But from what place?” said I. After some difficulty, he replied that he was from Bagirmeh.
Darfur is bounded on the east by a sandy and nearly sterile country, and the same description applies to the provinces situated between it and Wadaï. Southward are vast plains, stretching to Dar-fertit, and to the north is the desert, which I have described on my way from Egypt. The country, which is forty days in length from north to south, and eighteen days’ breadth, is divided into numerous provinces, each under the authority of a governor. Some of these governors bear the title of Sultan, but they are all dependent on the Sultan of Darfur. Their mode of life is very similar, and their costume is uniform, except in the case of the Tunjour, who wear a black turban. I asked one of them the reason. He told me that his ancestors had formerly been sovereigns of the whole country, but had been dispossessed by the Forians, and that, since that time, they had worn the black turban as a sign of mourning.
On the east and south, Darfur is surrounded by tribes of wandering Arabs, whose wealth consists in cattle, horses, and furniture. They lead a nomadic life, going from pasturage to pasturage. Some of them possess great herds of camels. The Sultan of Darfur claims from them an annual impost, which they sometimes refuse. The Red Masirieh and the Rezeigat, being the most powerful and most distant in the desert, only give the refuse of their flocks. The agent who is sent to collect the tribute is sometimes beaten and killed. Attempts have been made to punish them by force, but they are generally repulsed with loss. The Arabs retire, if too hotly attacked, with their flocks into the Barajoub, a country situated to the south-east of Darfur. It is a vast marsh, ten days’ journey in extent, but covered with thick forest. Rain is said to fall there all the year round, except during two months.
The whole country of Darfur, on both sides of the chain of mountains, and north and south, is inhabited by a variety of tribes which do not belong, properly speaking, to the Forian race. The latter, who speak a language apart, occupy the range of mountains, but have conquered the whole surrounding country. There are in the country also a number of people of mixed race, children of strangers.
The districts on the northern frontier are the most fully populated. They are called Zaghawah and Berti, and exhibit a remarkable contrast; the people of the latter being gentle and good, and of agreeable physiognomy, with women of remarkable beauty, whilst the people of the latter are different from them in every respect. The corresponding districts, at the southern extremity, are Dajo and Bijo, and the women of the latter are also more beautiful than the women of the former. The people of Birguid and of Tunjour, who occupy the middle provinces, are not contrasted by personal appearance, but by character; the former being treacherous, dishonest, and rapacious, without fear of God or the Prophet, whilst the latter have a certain amount of religion and intelligence. The mountaineers of Marrah are all savage and brutal in the same degree, except that at Dar-Abbima, towards the south, both men and women are more affable and of more agreeable aspect. Glory be to the Creator, who has permitted these striking contrasts! At Dar-el-Massalit the beauty of the women is ravishing, silencing the reason and captivating the heart. Nevertheless, the most beautiful women who are found in Darfur are, without exception, those of Arab descent; and the same remark applies to the men.
All the provinces of Darfur, properly so called, are divided into lots, which constitute so many properties, each belonging to one of the high dignitaries of the state. The two largest appanages of this kind are those of Abdima and Tekeniwi. They each have under their orders twelve governors, bearing the title of “Shartay,” or prefect. The Aba Oma has under his orders four governors; the For-an-Aba has also four governors, and the Ab-Sheikh four. Besides the territories specially assigned to these great functionaries, there are portions kept for the Emins, Shereefs, Kadis, &c. In this way it happens that the Sultan really possesses only certain domains, as Guerly, Tendelty, &c.
About one-half of Darfur is plain country. Towards the east the land is almost entirely sandy, but the slopes of Mount Marrah are composed of black mould. This chain, as I have said, traverses nearly the whole length of Darfur, but is cut into a variety of groups, by transversal defiles. On this kind of sierra are established numerous populous tribes. Among these are the Kunjarah, from which are derived the Sultans of Darfur. In this range are hollowed out an enormous quantity of caverns, some of which are used as prisons for the sons of princes, others for viziers, &c.
The Forians of Marrah are well off, possessing abundance of oxen and sheep. There is no other province the inhabitants of which can be compared to these mountaineers. All their flocks and herds feed alone, without guard, and no care is taken against robbers, or against lions, or against wolves.
In the year 1220 of the Hegira (1805 A.D.) I asked permission of Sultan Mohammed Fadhl to go and visit the mountain of Marrah, with a firman from him. He hesitated at first, fearing for me, on account of the savageness of the inhabitants, but afterwards he allowed me to depart. He gave me an escort and a firman, addressed to all the governors of the mountains, enjoining them to aid and protect me, and allow me to see every thing that was curious, whether apparent or hidden. I started, accordingly, with two Falkanahwy, or policemen, two of my own slaves, and an inhabitant of my village. We marched for two days, and the third we arrived near the mountain, and came to a village called Numleh, the chief of which was Fakih-Nemr. This Nemr had two sons. We stopped at their house, and were received with politeness. Having explained the object of our journey, and exhibited our firman, they prepared to honour us, and served up an excellent meal. Next day we went to see the market of Numleh, which is held every Monday,— men and women crowding thither from all parts of the mountain, to buy and sell. I beheld there a remarkably black population, with blood-shot eyes and reddish teeth. When I appeared, the astonished crowd collected around me: they marvelled at my brown complexion, flushed with red. Every one came in a succession of crowds to examine me. They had never seen before an Arab of my colour, and it entered into their heads that it would be a curious thing to kill me, that they might examine me more at their leisure. But I did not understand the subject of their discussion until I saw my escort draw their swords, and interpose between the crowd and me. I asked what was the reason of this movement, and they answered,—
“These blacks wish to kill thee.”
“And wherefore?”
“They are ignorant brutes, and say that thou camest into the world before thy time; that thou art not a ripe man. Others pretend that thy skin is so thin that, if a fly were to prick thee, all thy blood would start out. Another has proposed to give thee a wound, to discover how long it would take to empty thy veins. This is why we feared for thy life.”
My people took me away from the market, beating back the crowd as we went. It was with some difficulty that we escaped. From thence we proceeded to a valley, which we found to be shaded by date-trees and bananas, and some lemon-trees, and plentifully sown with onions, garlic, red-pepper, cumin, coriander, fenugreek, and short and long cucumbers. It was autumn, and the dates were just beginning to blush. They cut for me two clusters of the red fruit, and two clusters of the yellow, and they gave me a great gourd full of honey, of which I have never tasted or smelt the equal. We passed the night pleasantly in that place, and in the morning began traversing a series of valleys, divided by ranges of hills, each about a mile in breadth. Everywhere was a luxuriant cultivation, and the running streams, that glanced over their sandy beds, seemed like streaks of silver. Each valley is bordered on either hand by a kind of hedge of trees, which cause it to resemble a winding avenue. We sat down in a shady place: a fat kid was killed, and we feasted upon it with delight. We then proceeded to a village at the foot of the mountain, where we were well received, and rested till next morning, when we climbed the great range. We were three hours in reaching the summit. On all sides, upon the slopes, we saw numerous villages, and an ample population. We were taken to the Sheikh of the mountain, named Abou-Bekr, whom we found alone. He was a very old man, covered with wrinkles. When we had saluted him, he welcomed us, and bade us sit down.
It is remarkable, that the summit of these mountains is only completely free from clouds for a few days of the year. There is sufficient rain to allow wheat to come to perfection. Few harvests can be compared to these, except those of Barbary and Europe. The rest of Darfur, with the exception of a few cantons, where well-water is used, does not produce wheat. On a certain day of the year the Sheikh, or Old Man of the Mountain, of whom we have spoken, is visited in crowds by the people for consultation. On that solemn day, set apart for divination, he predicts what is to come to pass during the year,—drought or rain, war or peace, serenity or misfortune, disease or health. His prophecies are profoundly believed; but the Forians differ in opinion about the source and the cause of the power which he possesses of seeing into the future. Some pretend that he works by Divine inspiration, and that he who wears the dignity of Sheikh of the Mountain, is necessarily, and always, illuminated of God, and a holy personage. This is the explanation of the learned men of Darfur. Others declare that the genii tell him what is to come to pass. For my part, I do not know what value should be assigned to these two opinions; but this I do know, that many prophecies are attributed to him which have not been fulfilled.
On hearing the contents of our firman, the Old Man of the Mountain overwhelmed us with kindness, and ordered a meal to be prepared. Then he sent out some one to the east of the hill with orders to beat the great tambourine, called “Tenbel,” and presently from all sides numerous people came streaming towards us. From the crowd thus collected he chose a hundred young men, and appointed over them, as chief, one of his relations, called the Fakih Zaid, celebrated for his courage. He expressly ordered this troop not to quit me for a moment, and to be ever on their guard against the rustic brutality of the mountaineers.
We got on horseback and rode away over the high land towards a solitary peak which specially bears the name of Marrah, and from which the whole chain has so been called. There we found a kind of small oratory, esteemed highly sacred by the people, who venerate it equally with the mosques. An enormous tree overshadows this oratory, on which the sun never shines. We entered and sat down awhile. There are several servants of the place whose duty it is to keep it clean, and to receive the offerings or ex-votoes of visitors.
Proceeding on our journey, the soldiers of Zaid marching in front, we soon beheld a multitude of men and women running towards us from all sides. I was looked upon as an extraordinary being. There was a perfect scramble to get sight of me. They pushed and shoved one another, and though the escort closed around they could scarcely keep off the crowd. These strange people were saying one to the other, “The Sultan has sent to us a man born before his time, that we may eat him.” Others exclaimed, “No; this is not a human being, but an animal under the form of a man, whose flesh is good to eat.” These mountaineers cannot believe in the existence of men with white skins and rosy complexions.
These savages know of Arabic only the few words which compose the confession of faith, and these they pronounce wildly with a broken, jerking manner. However, the agreeable reflections of the populace were translated to me, and I became afraid. Zaid also, finding it impossible to keep off the crowd in any other way, told me to hide my face in the shawl of my turban, leaving only my eyes visible; so I veiled myself and stood in the midst of the soldiers. The negroes, no longer seeing my face, were stupified and said,—
“Where is the red fellow?”
“He has returned to the Sultan,” was the reply, and by degrees they left us.
We now proceeded to the state-prisons, that is to say, the caverns where the sons of princes and viziers are incarcerated. The gaolers at first plumply refused admission, and we almost came to a serious quarrel, but Zaid read out my firman, and the chief was calmed. He then said that I might go into the caverns alone, if I pleased, but that my companions must remain aloof. I refused to take advantage of this permission, fearing that some evil might befall me, and expressed my wish to depart.
It is the custom among the mountaineers of Marrah, that no one shall marry a woman until he has lived with her, and had by her one or two children, and thus convinced himself that she is fruitful. Then the man remains with the woman, and regards her as his wife. Women do not, as with us, avoid the society of men. If a husband, on returning home, finds his wife conversing with a man, he is not angry unless with good cause. Young boys and girls do not conceal any part of their bodies until the age of puberty. At that age the boys wear a shirt and the girls a kind of short petticoat; but from the navel upwards they remain quite naked.
The Forians of Marrah are brutal and passionate, especially in a state of drunkenness. They are excessively avaricious, and never receive any guests besides their parents, except for interested motives. They have no idea of cleanliness, no variety or art in the preparation of their food; they eat indifferently whatever they see that seems eatable. Bitter or rotten substances are not cast away, and they sometimes even prefer this kind of food to others. In every village the young men have a chief whom they call Wornan, and the young girls also have a chief called Meirem. On days of rejoicing, festivals and ceremonies, the Wornan assembles his lads, and all go and sit down in a large place. Then the Meirem appears with her damsels, and advances a little a-head of them and sits down. The chief of the young men comes forward and talks with her, and then she orders her girls to divide themselves among the youths; so each one takes away a companion and goes and passes the time where he pleases.
In Darfur the men devote themselves alone to no trade except that of war, from which alone the women are dispensed. Both sexes follow their occupations pell-mell, except that the most fatiguing work is given to the women. Men and women remain always together night and day; and it is remarkable that, contrary to the opinion of Europe, the constant society of the female sex does not in any way soften the manners of the country. The people of Marrah do not consume the wheat which they harvest, but sell it and buy millet.
The most singular thing I heard related whilst I was in these mountains is this, that the genii act as guardians of the cattle. It is for this reason that the herds are left to wander where they will. Many persons assured me seriously that if any one, passing near a flock and seeing it without a guard, should attempt to steal a sheep or a cow, and to kill the beast, his hand, still armed with the knife, would remain fastened to the throat until the arrival of the owner. I have a hundred times heard instances of protection afforded by the genii, but was at first inclined to reject the whole as lies and dreams. But this is what happened to myself. Being near the Marrah mountains I went to a person of Numleh, to question him about the genii. On drawing near his hut I saw nobody, but began to call him by his name. Then a loud and terrible voice, which made me shiver, shouted “Akibe!” that is to say, “He is not here.” Nevertheless, I was going to advance and pursue my inquiries, when an individual, who was passing by me, took me by the arm and drew me away, saying,—
“Be off! be off! He who speaks to thee is not a human being.”
“And what is he, then?”
“He is the guardian genius of the hut. Nearly every one of us is thus protected. We call the genii in Forian, Damzog.”
Upon this I feared and withdrew.
On returning from the Marrah to the Fasher, I went to visit the Shereef Ahmed Bedawee, who had brought me from Cairo to Darfur, and related to him this adventure and my terror. “The man was perfectly right,” said Ahmed, who went on to relate to me things still more wonderful. “At the time when I first began to trade, my friend, I often heard that damzogs could be bought and sold, and that to procure one I must apply to the owner of a damzog, and discuss the price with him. When the bargain is concluded, it is necessary to give a large gourd of milk to the seller, who takes it to his house, where are his damzogs. On entering he salutes them, and goes and hangs up his vase to a hook, saying,—‘One of my friends—such a one—very rich, is in fear of robbers, and asks me to supply him with a guardian. Will one of you go and live in his house? There is plenty of milk there, for it is a house of blessing, and the proof thereof is, that I bring you this kara of milk.’ The damzogs at first refuse to comply with the invitation. ‘No, no,’ say they, ‘not one of us will go.’ The master of the hut conjures them to comply with his desires, saying,—‘Oh! let the one that is willing descend into the kara.’ He then retires a little, and presently one of the damzogs is heard to flop into the milk, upon which he hastens and claps upon the vase a cover made of date-leaves. Thus stopped up he unhooks the kara, and hands it over to the buyer, who takes it away and hangs it on the wall of his hut, and confides it to the care of a slave or of a wife, who every morning comes and takes it, emptying out the milk, washing it and re-plenishing it, and hanging it up again. From that time forward the house is safe from theft or loss. For my part, I believed all these things to be absurdities.
“Well, my wealth increased; but my slaves and servants constantly robbed me. Vainly did I have recourse to all kinds of means to prevent them; I was always duped. One day I complained to a friend, who recommended me to buy a damzog, certifying that I should be thus effectually protected. The desire of preserving my property induced me to comply, and so I went to a possessor of damzogs, and bought one in the way I have described. I appointed a slave to watch over the kara, and from that day forward I was free from care. I even left my warehouse-door open, and nobody in my absence dared to approach. I had there considerable wealth and abundance of merchandise. If anybody attempted to steal he was immediately prevented by the damzog. In this way he killed several of my slaves.
“My son, Mohammed, was now growing up. The love of women was his chief passion. He wished, in order to enable him to pursue his conquests with greater ease, to make some presents of beads and ornaments. So he watched a favourable moment, and one day, without my perceiving it, took the keys of the workshop and opened it; but he had scarcely entered it when the damzog broke his neck, and killed him on the spot. I loved my son tenderly. The news of his death was a thunderbolt to me. My grief was indescribable. I inquired into the cause of his death, and was told that he was attempting to take my goods when the damzog killed him. Then I swore that the damzog should no longer remain in my house, and endeavoured to drive it away, but in vain. I took counsel of a friend, who said to me:—‘Prepare a great repast, and invite a number of guests, warning them to come in a single troop, armed with guns and powder. They must all together fire a volley at the entrance of thy workshop, shouting aloud in Forian, ‘Damzog ah aiye?’— Where is the damzog? The volleys must be repeated, always accompanied by the same cry, and the crowd must enter the place where the merchandise is guarded by the genius. In general the damzog is frightened, and flies away.’ I performed this ceremony, and thanks be to God the damzog disappeared.”
It has often been related to me, that among the great drums, or tymbals, preserved in the dwelling of the Sultan, there is one called the “Victorious,” especially patronised by the damzogs, and that sometimes this instrument resounds when no one is near. This phenomenon announces that some great event is about to happen—some foreign or intestine war.
The habits and manners of the other tribes of Darfur, such as the Berti, the Dajo, the Bijo, &c., are pretty nearly the same as those of the people of Marrah. If some of them differ by being more hospitable and benevolent, they owe this improvement to association with Bedawin Arabs, and of the merchants who come to them from Egypt and other distant countries. Those who received strangers best are those who speak the Arabic language.
CHAPTER VI.
Philosophy of Geography — Absolute Authority of Princes — Order of Succession — Old Women Counsellors — Strange Customs — Public Audiences — Servility — Barbarian Etiquette — Clothing of the Buaso — Superstitions — Festival of the Sowing — Court of Tendelty — A Perilous Office — Taxes — King of the Buffoons — Birds of the South — Music and Songs — Abd-er-Rahman and the Ulemas — The Yakoury — Queen Mothers.
In examining the different forms of empire, the varieties of tastes and habits, it is evident that the great Creator—may His Majesty be glorified!—has multiplied their different aspects in order to show us the immensity of his power and the profoundness of his wisdom. Moreover, God has impressed a different character on every climate. There are cold climates and hot climates, and temperate climates, according to their distance from the equinoctial line. If God had wished it, he could have made of all nations a single nation; but he has assigned to them dissemblances, in order to incite men to travel, and to learn that of which they are ignorant. Having stated these truths, let us come to the point.
The Forian princes have customs different from those of other princes. The sovereign of Darfur exercises boundless despotic power. He may put to death thousands of individuals, and no one asks him wherefore. He may degrade whom he pleases, and no one asks him wherefore. His orders, however adverse they may be, are always obeyed, and no one resists, even by a word. The only resource is to cry for mercy; but, if the Sultan chooses to commit an act of injustice, the hatred it excites remains for ever concealed.
In Darfur the sovereign must be of the blood of the Sultans. No stranger, not even a descendant of the Prophet, can pretend to the throne. When a prince is invested with power, he rests for a week in his dwelling, without issuing orders of any kind. During this space of time no affair is brought before his tribunal. The Sultan Abd-er-Rahman was the first who derogated from this custom.
The Forian Sultans are surrounded by a kind of Aulic body, composed of old women, called Habbobah, under the orders of one of their numbers, called the queen. When the Sultan leaves his privacy of seven days these old women unite, bearing iron switches, about two feet long, which they clash one against another, producing a singular sound. One of them bears a kind of broom of date-branches, which she dips into a prepared liquid, and therewith, from time to time, sprinkles the Sultan, uttering certain mysterious words. Then they conduct the new prince from his private dwelling to the House of Brass, where the tymbals of the Sultan are kept. Having entered, they take the Victorious tymbal and place it in the midst. The Sultan remains alone with the Habbobah, who continue to clash their twigs of iron, and to repeat their mysterious exclamations. After this ceremony they lead the prince to the place where is the imperial throne.
The movement of public affairs now begins, and the sovereign opens his Divan. He never addresses the ordinary words of salutation to any one, however great, except through the medium of an interpreter. Those who obtain audience place themselves on their knees, and an interpreter repeats their names, adding a form of word to this effect: “Such a one salutes you humbly.” Having gone through the whole, he adds, “and their people or their children are behind them.” Then the negroes, who are standing in the rear of the prince, begin to cry out “Salutation! salutation!” If the assembly is great, a large wooden urn, shaped like an inverted cone, and covered with a skin, called a dingar, is beaten. It gives a great sound, and is not used on any other occasion. On grand occasions, there are seven interpreters ready to explain the petitions of persons who come to ask for justice. The forms of salutation are very intricate.
The people of Darfur have many singular ways of expressing veneration for the majesty of the Sultan. Among others, whenever he clears his throat, his spittle is immediately gathered up from the ground by his servants with their hands.[14] When he coughs, as if about to speak, everybody makes the sound of ts, ts as nurses do to amuse their little ones; and, when he sneezes, the whole assembly imitates the cry of the jeko, which resembles that of a man urging on his horse to speed. In grand council, the Sultan is fanned with a large bunch of ostrich-feathers. When he goes out to hunt he is shaded by a parasol of the same material; and these insignia are under the special care of a high official. If the Sultan, being on horseback, happens to fall off, all his followers must fall off likewise; and should any one omit this formality, however great he may be, he is laid down and beaten.[15]
A strange ceremony is sometimes celebrated by the Forian princes. It is called the Clothing of the Buaso, and consists in renewing the skins of the great tymbals, called in Egypt Nakarieh. The ceremony is one of the greatest solemnity, and every year lasts seven days. In the first place, all the tymbals must be stripped on one day—which done, bulls, with dark grey skins, are slaughtered to supply the new coverings. It is pretended that these bulls are of a particular species, and that, when they are about to be slaughtered, they lie down quietly, and submit without resistance. They are killed without the ordinary preamble of “B’ism Illah;” and it is said that they are thus held down and kept tranquil by genii. When they are slaughtered the flesh is separated from the bones and skin, and put into large jars of salt for six days, at the end of which other animals are slaughtered, and the flesh mixed. Tables are then laid out, and all the sons of the Sultan, and all the Kings, and all the Viziers, are invited, and compelled to eat. There are inspectors at each table to see that nobody fails; for if any one does so, it is believed that he is a traitor. No conspirator, in fact, can eat of this food. If any one keeps away, under pretence of illness, a plate of meat is brought to him, and if he declines to eat, he is seized. Many pretend that for this festival a young boy and a young girl, not yet arrived at the age of puberty, are slaughtered, cut up, and mixed with the salt meat; and it is added that the boy must be called Mohammed, and the girl Fatmeh. If this be true, these men must be infidels and barbarians. For my part, I have seen nothing of this ceremony, foreigners never being allowed to be present.
Before the meat is served up, a general review of all the troops takes place at the Fasher, and, afterwards, the Sultan repairs in state, first to his palace, and then to the House of Brass. Arrived there, he takes a drumstick, and strikes three blows on the Victorious Nakarieh. The corps of old women is there still, beating their twigs of iron. If any Governor or Vizier happens to be away at the time of this ceremony, instead of the trial by meat-eating, he is subjected to the trial by Killi,—that is to say, he is compelled to drink water in which the fruit of that name has been infused. If he be not a conspirator, he immediately vomits; but, if he be guilty, he can drink a large jar-full without doing so. I have seen the experiment tried on a person accused of theft. It is possible that these effects may depend on some particular properties of the Killi, for in Darfur there are many plants of singular virtue, of which we shall speak, if it please God.
There is a remarkable custom, called the Festival of the Sowing, in Darfur. The Sultan possesses, as his domain, cultivable land, which is sown every year. After the rains, he goes forth in great pomp, escorted by more than a hundred young women, chosen amidst the most beautiful, and adorned with their richest garments and jewels. These women are the best-beloved of his harem. They wear upon their heads vases filled with the most delicate viands, and they walk behind the Sultan’s horse with the young slaves, called korkoa, armed with lances, and with a troop of flute-players. They move on with music and singing, and even the young girls join in the concert. When the prince has reached the open country, he gets out of the saddle, and taking different kinds of grain whilst a slave turns up the ground with a hoe, casts them in. This is the first seed that falls in the country where the Sultan then is. Afterwards the kings, viziers, the officers of the court, following the example of the Sultan, also cast in grain, and the whole plain is soon quickened for the harvest. This done, the dishes are brought by the young girls, and spread out before the Sultan, who begins to eat with his courtiers. Then the whole party get into the saddle again, and return in a grand cavalcade to the Fasher. This Festival of the Sowing is one of the most solemn in Darfur.[16]
The court of Tendelty is organised in a very complete and singular manner. The different dignitaries are named after different parts of the Sultan’s body. The Orondolon, for example, means the head of the Sultan, and his duty is to march in the van of the troops; the Kamneh, or neck of the Sultan, is still higher in rank, but his privileges are counterbalanced by one extraordinary duty, viz. that of allowing himself to be strangled if the king happens to be killed in battle. After these functionaries come the backbone, and the right arm, and the left arm, each with different duties. The Ab-Sheikh, or Father-Sheikh, is above all the before-mentioned dignitaries in rank. He is almost the equal of the Sultan, and possesses the right of life and death without control. There are numerous other officials, each with distinct duties. One of the principal is the King of the Door of the Women, or Chief of the Eunuchs. There is also the King of the Slaves, of the Custom-House, and of the Tax-gatherers. None of these officers receive any direct payment, but all have extensive districts assigned to them, from the revenues of which they are expected to supply arms, clothing, and horses for themselves and their soldiers.
The tithe of grain and of cattle belongs exclusively to the Sultan; but each of the governors has private property, which is cultivated by forced labour. They have also the right to impound and appropriate all wandering property, as slaves, oxen, sheep, and asses. All fines also go to them. For example, if one man wounds another, he pays so much for the blood spilt, all of which goes to the governor, whilst, if death ensues, only one-half does, the remainder going to the parents of the deceased. If a man intrigues with a married woman, both the guilty parties are compelled to pay a fine. It must also be remembered that all kinds of labour are taken by force, and used gratuitously.
I must not forget to speak of the Kingship of the Maugueh, or Buffoon of the Sultan. This is the least respectable office in the court, but it is sufficiently interesting to describe. The Forians have a natural tendency to pleasure, to gaiety, to games, and festivals. They pass no day without some entertainment; kings and people share the same passion; and they have invented every possible means of enjoyment, and all kinds of instruments. Every king has a train of young boys, chosen for the beauty of their voice, and called Korkoa. They are supplied with pipes made of reeds, through which they not only blow, but sing, mixing up the notes and the words in a singular manner. They are accompanied by a remarkable instrument, consisting of a dried gourd, in which some pebbles have been introduced, and which are shaken in time to the notes and pauses of the flutes. Often the Sultan, on ceremonial occasions, causes this band to be followed by his harem, bearing dishes; and on these occasions, a drum resembling the araboukka of Egypt, is added to the concert. There are masters in Darfur who teach both music and singing. The singers precede the Sultan in groups, one individual of which begins a stanza, while the others sing the chorus. On these occasions, when the whole crowd of horse and footmen are beating tambourines, or playing on flutes or pipes, or singing, the noise created is perfectly stunning. The flutes are called the Birds of the South, because in Southern Darfur are found many birds with agreeable notes, from which it is said the Forians have learned their style of playing.
To the above musical entertainment are added the songs of the Maugueh, who form a considerable corporation, having a special king. They have not only to perform the droll duties of buffoons, but many others, and especially the horrible one of executioner. Commonly the Maugueh wear a kind of band round their heads, with a plate of iron on their foreheads, in which is loosely fastened a long horn or nail, which shakes and tinkles as they move. This is shaded by one or two ostrich-feathers. They wear iron anklets, and each carries a leathern bag in which to place these ornaments, as well as their tartour, or tall, conical cap, covered with shells and beads, when they have finished their sittings. In their hands they carry a crook, to which are suspended little bells.
Two or three of these buffoons generally stand up before the Sultan when he holds a divan; and when he travels or hunts several go before him, singing, dancing, mimicking the bark of a dog or the mewing of a cat, and uttering various absurdities to create a laugh. Their songs are in the Forian language, never in Arabic. Their dance does not consist of contortions of the hips, like that of Egypt, but they shake the head from one side to the other, and, striking their legs together, make their anklets jingle. When the Sultan is very far from the Fasher they cease to sing, but all together, at the top of their voices, cry, “Ya! ya!” as long as the prince is on horseback.
Every governor has buffoons of his own. These odd beings care little for the anger of their master. They have a right of familiarity, even with the Sultan. They conceal nothing that they learn against the private character of the courtiers, but bawl out their scandalous stories in full divan. They have stentorian voices, and are also used as criers. They may often be heard after sunset screaming out in the streets.
The Sultan Abd-er-Rahman loved the Ulemas, and was frequently with them night and day. He never appeared in council without having one or two with him. This difference excited the jealousy of the Viziers. “What,” said they, “does the Sultan prefer these fellows to us? Verily, after him we will take care not to put upon the throne a Sultan who can read and write.” A Maugueh heard these words, and, dissimulating, waited for a day of public assembly. The Viziers were present, and the buffoon began to say, “Certainly, we will take care not again to elect a Sultan who can read and write.”
The Sultan turned round and inquired, “Wherefore?”
“Because thou preferrest the company of the Ulemas to that of the Viziers.”
Irritated at this observation, the Sultan glanced furiously at him, so that he feared for his skin, and added,—“I am not to blame, for I overheard these people,” pointing to the Viziers, “say these words.”
This created a scene of reproach and anger, and suggested to me this observation,—“The ignorant are always enemies of the learned.”
Sultan Tyrab one day gave a great festival. The Sultan began examining the dishes one after another, in order to see which were the best. Some of them had been prepared by the hands of the Yakoury Kinaneh herself. Tyrab tasted them, and, finding them excellent, ordered them to be reserved for the Ulemas. Kinaneh objected, saying,—“Shall I be Yakoury to cook for Sheikhs, whilst others cook for Viziers and Kings?” The King replied, that she would thereby gain the blessings of these holy men. But an altercation ensued; she swore by her head that the Ulemas should not taste them, and female perseverance prevailed.
I must add that the buffoons are generally chosen amongst the poorest kind of people. They go begging from door to door, always with success, for the great people fear them as spies. Whoever treats them well acquires their praises; but those who seem to check them are sure to be despised and scandalised. In this they resemble poets, who have incense for their friends and sarcasms for their enemies. The Yakoury is the mother of the Sultan. I have seen the mother of Sultan Mohammed Fadhl. She was an ugly slave, who would not have fetched ten dollars. I have also seen his grandmother, a hideous old woman, more hideous than any other in the whole country, and nearly imbecile. It was her pleasure, whenever she travelled, to be carried on a kind of stool on the shoulders of men, and surrounded by a numerous escort of soldiers. One day she was told that the people said, speaking of her, “This slave tyrannises over and torments us.” She caused herself to be carried to the divan, and cried, “The slave! The slave has brought forth silver, and silver has brought forth gold!” alluding to her relationship to the Sultan.
CHAPTER VII.
The Fasher — The Ligdabeh — A Race — Audience on Horseback — Tendelty — Fountains — Huts — The Palace — Police Regulations — Costume — The Litham — Materials of Clothing — Women’s Dresses — Ornaments — Lovers — Jealousy — Intercourse of the Sexes — A Story of Love — The Sultan’s Interference — War against Drunkenness — Marriage Expenses — Strange Customs — Buying a Wife — Betrothal.
The dwelling of the Sultan is in the interior of the Fasher; that is to say, the town or borough which is chosen for his ordinary residence, and the houses or huts of the inhabitants around. This dwelling-place has two external gates, one called the gate of the men, and the other the gate of the women. The first leads to the great divan, which is a shed built of wood, open on all sides. Large beams support the roof, which is made of fascines. The ceiling is now sufficiently high to allow a man upon a camel to ride through. Formerly, only a man on horseback could pass. It happened, one day, that two Arabs presented themselves, and quarrelled about their skill in camel-riding. It was agreed that they should have a race within the Ligdabeh, or divan. The Sultan and his courtiers went out and collected around to see this singular contest. The two champions started off from a distance at full gallop. On arriving near the Ligdabeh, one of them leaped upon the roof, and, running along, dropped into his seat again just as the camel came out at the other side. The other threw himself under, and held on until he was also outside, when he swung up again into his seat. There was a great discussion as to who had gained the bet; but the Sultan decided in favour of the second. It was after this incident that the roof was raised to its present height. When there is a public meeting, the Sultan sits on an elevated seat, placed on a platform in the midst, with the Ulemas on the right, and Shereefs and great people on the left. When a solemn divan is held for the reception of ambassadors, or for a public festival, the platform is decorated with trappings embroidered with gold, and a stool of ebony, with a cushion of silk, is placed in the midst for the Sultan, who assumes an imposing and majestic air. All the great dignitaries and the seven interpreters have their appointed place. On some occasions, the Sultan gives audience on horseback, and has horses trained to remain for hours in the same posture.
Tendelty is now the capital of Darfur, and has been so ever since 1206, or 1791 of the Christians. It is built on a plain of sand, and traversed by a torrent, which joins the great stream of the valley of Kou. The rains of autumn fill it, so that it can only be crossed at a great distance from the city. Towards the end of winter, the greater part of the water dries away, and wells are dug in the sand. The Sultan uses this water; but, as he fears that some ill-intentioned persons may cast a charm into the well, he sometimes, without warning, sends to the well of Gedeed el Seil, which is distant about a parasang to the east.
The dwellings of the Forians are generally huts constructed of millet-stalks, and are surrounded with a hedge of prickly bushes, at some distance, and by a second enclosure of millet-stalks. Wealthy persons possess many huts within the same enclosure. The wealth of a man is known by the whiteness and cleanness of his huts, and the inner enclosure. There are pens within the hedge for the flocks.
The huts are round, and resemble tents in appearance. They are of different classes and names. Some of them are surmounted by a stick, on which are three or four ostrich eggs, separated by balls of red clay. In addition to these, the huts of the Sultan are ornamented with horizontal bands of red and white stuff. Those of the women of the Sultan, and, indeed, of many wealthy people, have the external wall of mud, and the roof of a rare kind of reed, the possession of which is considered a sign of wealth.
The imperial enclosure is situated on a slight elevation, a little to the north of the torrent, and covers an extent of three hundred paces. The hedge is very thick, and is formed of three rows of prickly shrubs, with the spaces filled up by trunks of trees. The whole forms a regular palisade, surpassing the height of a man, and is carefully kept in order. The gates, which are well guarded, are made of long poles tied together, and are fastened with an iron chain and padlocks. A great number of dwellings and offices are included within the enclosure. The women occupy a considerable space, and there are several sheds where slaves are engaged all day in grinding millet and wheat between two stones.
All the inhabitants of Tendelty are compelled to remain, invariably, in the quarter of the city where they are first established, from father to son. All people employed, also, are forbidden to change their place. This rigid rule is ever preserved upon warlike expeditions. Every one is compelled to encamp exactly in the same relation to the Sultan’s tent, so that, in fact, at every halt, a miniature representation of the city is created. In this way, if the Sultan is in want of anybody, it is always possible to find him immediately.
The garments worn in Darfur are all light, but of various forms and colours. Rich people have black or white dresses of very fine tissue. The Sultan and other great people wear two long shirts of fine stuff, imported from Egypt, or made in Darfur. The white garments are very brilliant, and all clothing is kept perfectly clean. The Sultan wears a Cashmere turban on his head, which no one else is allowed to do. Moreover, he wraps up his face with a piece of white muslin, which goes round his head several times, covering his mouth and nose first, and then his forehead, so that only his eyes can be seen.[17] The Orondolon and the Kanineh, and the male children of the royal family, also cover their face, except when they are in the palace. The Sultan is also distinguished by a gilded scimetar, by his sacred amulet box, by his parasol and fans of feathers, by his gilded saddle and stirrups, and by the peculiar trappings of his horse.
The stuff with which the rich clothe themselves commonly are muslin and English calico: silk dresses are only used on great occasions. The Forians, who are well off, wear a kind of mantle, in several different ways. Some curious stuffs are imported from the West: among others, the Gadany, which is black, with a shade of red. The dye used is indigo. People who can afford it wear drawers, and upon their heads the tarboosh, or red cap. The poor go bare-headed, and cover their bodies with a single garment.
The women wear a piece of stuff tied round the waist, and the young girls hide their bosoms with a kind of kerchief made of silk, of calico, or of coarse stuff, according to their means. All the girls wear round their middle a thick band and kind of kilt. When a girl is married, she wears a great izar, which covers her from head to foot. Most women have a ring in their nose, sometimes of gold, but often of silver or copper. It sometimes bears a few beads of red coral. Many wear great ear-rings of silver, six ounces in weight, supported, in part, by a string, which passes over the head. The poor thrust a little piece of red coral or a long bead through the hole in their nostril, and pieces of stick through their ears. They wear various kinds of necklaces, made of beads, of amber, of coral, of agate, and of glass. These, indeed, form their principal ornaments; but they are also fond of wearing little talismanic chaplets about their heads, made of berries, of beans, or of shells. The Forian women also cover their bodies with various strings of beads, load their arms with bracelets made of iron, of horn, or of copper, and the ankles with anklets. They use different kinds of perfumes: among others, the sun-bul, or Spica Celtica, sandal-wood, and myrtle. Great people carry musk-bags.
The Forian women make a kind of kahl with native antimony, but they do not put it inside the eye as in Egypt, but use it externally. They also colour therewith the eyelids of their lovers or their affianced, and for this reason many boys are seen thus adorned. It is the custom for a lover to receive some object of dress from his mistress, which he wears with pride, and never separates from. If any misfortune happen to him, he exclaims, by way of consolation,—“No matter, I am the brother (that is, the lover) of such a one.” Under similar circumstances his mistress consoles herself by similar words.
Jealousy is rare among the Forians. If a man find any one with his daughter or his sister, he rather rejoices than otherwise, foreseeing a marriage. When the form of a young Forian girl begins to develope, she is placed in a hut apart, where she sleeps alone, and he who loves her comes to see her when he pleases, and passes the time with her. Many unmarried girls bring forth children; and this is not considered shameful, even if an incest has taken place. The offspring, in these cases, is put down to the account of a maternal uncle; and, if it be a girl, the uncle profits by the dowry which the husband receives. It is impossible to prevent this intercourse of men and women. A father sometimes, if he be poor, is mobbed, or even killed, if he endeavours to preserve his daughter’s chastity; and even rich people find it difficult to succeed in this. Whatever be the care taken, some lover will find his way in, disguised as a woman.
A distinguished man of Darfur once had seven sons and a daughter of perfect beauty. Many suitors presented themselves for the latter, but were refused. Time passed, and the young girl had recourse to stratagem, and introduced into her hut a handsome youth full of courage and resolution. They remained together as long as it pleased God. His parents, disquieted by his absence, sought for him everywhere, but found him not. However, one day, having drunk deeply with his mistress, he became excited, and wished to go forth. “Wait until the night,” said she. But he refused, and went out. It happened, however, that the father and his seven sons were sitting at the gateway of the enclosure, and perceived him as he approached. The father cried out to the gatekeeper to shut the gate, and to seize on the intruder. He was assailed and surrounded, but defended himself so vigorously that many were wounded. The seven brothers now ran towards him armed, in order to kill him. He begged them to stand aside; but they would not, and fell upon him. They fought for some time, but he killed six, one after the other, and wounded the seventh. Then the father cried out, “Open the gate!” and it was opened, and he escaped without a single wound. No one ever knew who he was. The young girl was thus the cause of the death of her brothers and the desolation of her family. Similar adventures happen often, and the women always refuse to betray their lovers. Great ugliness, or ill-health, can alone preserve a daughter to her family.
Sultan Abd-er-Rahman endeavoured to repress these abuses, but without success. He established a police of eunuchs to prevent conversations between men and women in the market-place, but they were deceived in a thousand ways. If a man, for example, wanted to point out to a young girl, whom he found to his taste, where she might meet him, he would cry out,—
“Oh, ho! my lass, what’s this? Thy ugly head is like the ugly top of that ugly hut.”
“What ugly hut?” would the cunning girl say, in a tone of sham anger. “Where is that ugly hut which is like my head?”
“There.”
So he pointed it out, and in the evening she was sure to come and meet him.
Abd-er-Rahman endeavoured, also, to put a stop to wine-drinking, but with equal want of success. He even went so far as to smell the mouths of his courtiers when they came to see him; but they soon found out that, by chewing the leaves of a certain plant, named shalaub, they could entirely take away the odour. The Forians are naturally drunkards, and religion has no power to keep them sober.
When a poor man is about to marry, and nobody of his family will give him enough to supply his bridal expenses, he goes out to the fields, where the herds and flocks of his relations are feeding, and slaughters as many as he wants. If the owner endeavours to repel him, he is sure to be beaten, and, perhaps, killed; but, generally, he cites the man before the Khadi, who condemns him to pay for what he has taken by instalments.
On the occasion of a circumcision, the very young boys of a village are sent out into the neighbouring districts to kill all the fowls they can come near. No one attempts to interfere with them, for the law does not allow punishments to be applied at so early an age. A similar custom to the one here alluded to is practised in the case of young girls; and a very extraordinary method is taken among the poor to forestall the dangers of familiarity. During all these painful ceremonies, the girls are expected to suffer without complaint.
Very considerable dowries are given at a marriage, or rather a high price is paid for a wife. If the girl be pretty, her parents, even though poor, sometimes require twenty cows, and a male and female slave; but the father and mother keep all this for themselves. For this reason the Forians prefer daughters to sons. Daughters fill the stables, say they, but sons empty them.
Once married, a girl remains for one or two years in her father’s house, along with her husband, who at last has great difficulty in taking her away. During this time all domestic expenses are defrayed by the wife’s father; and whatever the husband brings is considered as a present. When a youth has been betrothed to a girl, however intimate he may have been with her parents before, he ceases to see them until the ceremony has taken place, and even avoids them in the street. They, on their part, hide their faces, if they happen to meet him unexpectedly. He goes to see his betrothed in her own hut, and sends his compliments to her parents. After the ceremony he goes and kisses his father-in-law and his mother-in-law on the head, and becomes one of the family. From this time forward both wife and husband consider that they have two fathers and two mothers.
CHAPTER VIII.
Origin of Marriage — Apologue — Dowries — Ceremonies — Dances — Songs — Formalities — Festivals — Domestic Etiquette — Zikrs — Jealousy — Eunuchs — A Miracle — Impious Ab-Sheikh — The Sultan’s Wives — A faithful Woman wanted — Arab Fidelity — The Queen Mother — An Adventure — Beautiful Women — Qualities of Black Women.
But I must enter into further details on this subject of marriage. When Adam woke from the light sleep during which Eve was taken out of his side, and beheld this new creature, richly adorned with grace and beauty, his heart was moved, and he admired.
“Who art thou, dear creature?” said he.
“I am Eve. God has just created me for thee, according to the dictates of his supreme will.”
“Come, then, to me.”
“No! It is thou who shouldst come to me.”
Then Adam advanced towards her, and this was the origin of the custom, that the man should seek the woman. When he had sat down by her side, and touched her with his hands, emotion thrilled through his frame, and he became bewildered; but Eve said: “Stay, Adam: Eve is only legitimately given to thee as a wife, on condition of a dowry, and a common consent expressed.” Then God, in His Old Language, pronounced a formula of marriage, and said:—“There is nothing sublime but my grandeur; nothing imposing but my majesty; and all creatures revere and adore me. I take you to witness—you, my angels, and you, the inhabitants of my heaven—that I unite in marriage this marvel of my creation, Eve, to this first man, my image upon the earth; but on condition of a dowry—and this dowry shall be, that he pronounce these words: ‘God is great; there is no god but God.’” Thus were established and consecrated the form and conditions of marriage for the posterity of Adam.
Every nation, however, has since modified the original custom, and the Forians also have their special forms. Among them the children—boys and girls—are generally mixed together. From a very early age they are employed in watching the herds, and are thus in constant communication. Many of them begin their intimacy at that time, and become linked in an affection which time cannot break. Love follows, and then the cares of love and jealousy; and at last the lover, egotistical in his passions, wishes to keep all the men away from his mistress. So he demands her in marriage, and the contract of union is drawn up in presence of witnesses, and the price of the bride, or the dowry, as it is called, is discussed. For some time afterwards the ceremony is deferred; but at length the day is fixed, and preparations are made for the nuptial feast. Animals are slaughtered, drinks are prepared, and invitations are sent out.
Many music-women are hired to enliven the festival. Each of them carries under her left arm three tambourines, on which she plays, greeting every new troop of guests with a song in their praise. For example,—“You, who brandish the shafts of your spears, may death be slow to overtake you!—May the eye which looks enviously on you become blind!—you, who brandish the steel of your lances,” &c.
I was once at a marriage festival where the women greeted me with these verses,—“The Shereef comes from the mosque with a book in one hand, and a sabre in the other; he bears away the Birguids into slavery!”
Those who give the festival meet the guests as they arrive, and sit them down in groups. Food is immediately brought them according to their dignity. Some, for example, are given boiled meats and roast meats; others, cakes, and the red wine called Bulbul—The Mother of the Nightingale. When all have eaten, they remain sitting in the shade until the heat of the day has diminished, and the shadows are beginning to lengthen. Then the young girls, in their richest costume, leave the company of the women; and the youth also, dressed out in their best, run to meet them, and they prepare to dance. The girls range themselves in long lines, in front of which lines of equal length are formed by the youths; and the women, to the measured sound of the tambourines, fill the air with their songs. At this signal, all the lines of young girls begin to move and to advance with a slow, deliberate step, shrugging their shoulders in various ways, and crouching down with strange contortions and inflections of their bodies. Thus they reach by degrees the line of youths, which remains motionless opposite, until each comes face to face with her partner, when she begins to shake her head rapidly, and fan and brush his cheeks with her tresses, which have been carefully perfumed beforehand. Then the youths, excited by these blandishments, brandish their lances, and raise them horizontally over the heads of the girls, who begin to retire, still dancing, and are pursued by their partners until they reach the place whence they started. Here the young girls pass between the young men and go dancing back alone. If there happens to be among the spectators any young man whom a young girl wishes to lure into the dance, she singles him out, and goes gently dancing towards him, and waves her hair in his face. Upon this he shouts with joy, and brandishes his lance and follows her. This attention on her part imposes on him the necessity of giving her a banquet.
When the two lines have thus changed places, they begin to move at the same time, and meet in the middle, where the girls cast the whole of their hair upon the breast of their partners, who begin to rakrak, that is to say, to utter peculiar cries of joy. The whole company is now half-intoxicated, but the dance continues until night-time, when the various groups separate and go to supper.
Besides this dance, which is called Delloukah, the Forians have the Gyl, the Lengui, the Chekenderi, the Bendalah, and the Tonzy, which is the dance of the slaves; but the dance peculiarly of Forian origin, and which is special chiefly to the inhabitants of the Marrah mountains, is the Tendina. Some of these dances are peculiar to certain classes. The higher ranks dance the Delloukah; the middle classes, the Gyl; and the inferior classes, the Lengui. In the latter, the dancers utter peculiar cries, or rather grunts, which resemble those emitted by workmen when chopping wood. In the Chekenderi, a young man takes the waist of a young girl, who stands before him with her back turned, in his hands. A young girl behind him places her hands upon his hips; she is followed by a young man, and thus a circle is formed. The dancers, leaning slightly forward, move with very little steps; the girls gently shaking their anklets in measure. This tranquil dance is accompanied by the songs of women who are sitting by. The Bendalah is a dance, or rather a game, peculiar to the slaves, in which they tie a string of large nuts to their right foot, and kick at each other. The Tonzy resembles the Chekenderi; and the Tendina is an exaggerated form of the latter.
Each kind of dance is accompanied by special songs. For example, in the Gyl, the following is used:—“You banei, hei you banein! The night is passing, oh, my Moutgal; my head is turning; the night is going, oh, my Moutgal! yes, my head is turning!” The introductory words have no meaning, and form an arbitrary chorus. One of the singers sings the first and second lines, and then the others join in with, “Ana rasy indur,”—my head is turning. They go on to say: “The night is passing. Darfur (that is, the world, for the world to them is a great Darfur) is full of sorrows. Come and rest thy head upon my bosom.” The complete meaning of another song is as follows:—“Oh thou, whom I love, thou bendest over me like a flexible branch, and passion draws us away and makes us breathe forth sighs! Thou lovest me, thou preferrest me to the daughters of thy hamlet, and thereby thou shalt excite their jealousy against me, and draw their vengeance upon me, for they will believe that thou hast humbled them in my eyes! Oh thou, whose love recalls the perfume of the sandal-wood, thou hast arisen like the odoriferous branches of that tree, and thou leanest over our dwellings, to shade them for ever; and happiness will always remain beneath thy branches!”
After the evening repast, the bride is promenaded, to the sound of the Daloukah, all round the village, and then led to the nuptial hut. Three or four hours after night-fall, the young men collect together and take with them the bridegroom, and, with songs and rakrakhas, conduct him to the hut. They remain without, whilst the bride with her companions remains within. Then the bridegroom nominates one of his friends as Vizier of the wedding, of which he himself is the Sultan; whilst the bride within chooses a she-vizier, under the title of Meirem. The latter is then entreated by the young men to come out and speak to them, but she refuses for an hour or two, and then issues forth, when the Vizier approaches her and presents his compliments, and, in an amiable and polite manner, begs her to allow the bride to present herself.
“Who are you?” then says the Meirem, “Whence do you come, and of what bride do you speak?”
“We are strangers,” answers the Vizier; “we arrive from a distant country, and will be delighted if the Queen would honour us and cheer us with her presence.”
“The Queen is engaged,” then says the Meirem, “and cannot appear; she has begged me to entertain all strangers and travellers who may present themselves. What are your wishes?”
“We all know,” says the Vizier, “that thou art full of graciousness and bounty, that thou art a perfect woman; but we have a word or two to say to the Queen, and can say them to no other than her.”
“Very good,” responds the Meirem; “but what will you give to the Queen, and what will you give to me, if she presents herself? For it is her custom to show herself only to those who give her a present.”
“All that we possess, and even our life, we will give, if she desires.”
This dialogue continues for some time, whilst the bride, concealed behind a curtain, is listening, and the bridegroom also remains silent. At length the Meirem consents to exhibit the Queen, and raises the curtain, and she steps forth, upon which the Vizier exclaims,—The Queen is for the King, but for us what remains?” Then the Meirem calls forth the companions of the bride, and says,— “My friends, I beg that you will treat these guests of our Queen, this night, in a proper manner.” “Willingly,” they reply. Upon which the Meirem, who knows who is engaged to whom, leads them forth one by one and presents them to their lovers. Several couples, thus brought together, pass the night conversing in the nuptial hut, and the others go and sleep in the house of some friend.
Next day, the bride and her bridemaids take a bath and perfume themselves, and the whole wedding party prepares for a new festival; and sometimes the rejoicings last for seven days, in the evenings of which there are always dancing and other amusements. If provisions fail, the men of the party spread through the neighbourhood, and kill what they want in the first flocks and herds they find. For this reason all the farmers, as soon as they hear that a wedding is to take place, drive away their beasts to a distance.
It must be observed that the marriage is seldom considered as completely celebrated until the seventh day, and never until after the third. A husband always shuns the insulting epithet of the impatient man. Each day of temperance is dedicated to some particular person: the first to the father of the bride, the second to the mother, and so on.
It is a strange custom in Darfur, that the wife, under no pretence whatever, is allowed to eat in the presence of her husband, or of any other man. If her husband happen to enter whilst she is eating, she instantly runs away, under penalty of universal contempt. I once enumerated to some Forians the various liberties that a husband can take with his wife, and asked why she should not also eat before him. “What you mention,” said they, “are very rational and proper acts, but for a woman to eat in the presence of a husband, to open her mouth and introduce food therein—ah, nothing can be more shameful!”
As I have said, the wife remains in her father’s house until she has borne children; and if her husband propose to take her away, she may ground a demand of divorce thereon. In the early time of her marriage the wife never speaks of her husband by his name, but only as he; and if she be asked whom she means, she replies, him. When she has had a child she uses the expression,—The father of such a one. The husband has no family expenses until after a year of marriage, and at every repast all the best food is first offered to him. During the night also, as long as he sleeps in the house of his wife’s family, they bring him, in the course of the night, two or three supplemental meals; the first of which is called the undress meal; the second, the Tarna-jisi; and the third, the meal of dawn. These meals are served up to the husband by the bride herself.
At the festival of the circumcision there are also great rejoicings. The operation is performed by a barber, and if the patient support it courageously the father promises him a heifer, a bull, or a slave, and all those who are present make him some gift. It is on this occasion that the boys scour the country in search of fowls.
I shall now describe what is called a Zikr in Darfur, remarking, by the way, that, in common Forian life, the women are the life and soul of every thing that takes place, and that, therefore, they also take a direct part in this religious ceremony. The Darfur Zikr is of two kinds, one performed by the Arabs, and the other by the Forians. The former contains a variety of movements and change, and was instituted by a celebrated Sheikh. A woman places herself near the circle of the faithful, and sings a few verses, whilst the other women simply look on, and examine who is most distinguished by his enthusiasm.[18] When the Zikr is in full swing, the woman becomes silent, and one of the men takes up the song. On one occasion, I heard a contest between two circles of Zikrs, in which the performers sung satirical verses one against the other. At another time, a woman ran into the circle, and began to chant:—“I will pour out for you a jar of meriseh. I am without a husband, and I live at the other end of the village. Is there one of you who is ready for love?” The people of the Zikr were then chanting,—“Allah hai! Allah hai!”—God is living, God is living! but one of them substituted the words “Ana zany; ana zany!”—I am your man; and so the contract was made.
The people of Forian origin stand in two rows or in a circle, each one with a young girl behind him, and the women standing around chant in a monotonous tone these words:—“The green tree is created for the shadow of men of science and religion. Is it indeed true that we shall go to paradise? Yes, it is indeed true that we shall go to paradise:” and they also add these words:—“Oh Gabriel! oh Michael! every deed of goodness is a key of paradise.”
Women in all countries have excited the jealousy of men. There have been known those who have been jealous not only of their nearest relations, but of the night, of the day, of the eyes of the Narcissus, even of themselves. The poets have accumulated these exaggerations. One has said, “Oh, Narcissus, turn away thy flower; do not look at me, for I am ashamed to kiss her I love before thee! What! shall my cheeks grow pale in sleep, and thou still gaze?” Another has said:—“My eyes, myself, thyself, the place where thou livest, the hours that brush by thee, everything excites my jealousy. Grant me nothing, for, as I am jealous of thee against thyself, how should I not be jealous of myself?” And again, another:—“I am jealous of everything, even of my own thoughts, and one hand is jealous of the other.”
It is the passion thus described that has given rise to the custom of employing eunuchs. The Sultan of Darfur has more than a thousand of them, and all the great people possess several. All these eunuchs come from Dar-roha, although from time to time one is made in the country as a punishment.
The eunuchs are celebrated for their cruelty. One day an Ab-Sheikh led out his soldiers on a hot summer’s day, and forced them to remain in the sun whilst he was protected by a parasol, until they all suffered dreadfully, and some even died upon the spot. He did this for his amusement, and exclaimed from time to time:—“This is the day! this is the day!—the day of misfortune and desolation!” There were more than twenty thousand men present, but none dared to resist, until at length a pious Sheikh, named Hassan-el-Kau, suddenly exclaimed, three times,—“Silence, impious man!” Upon this Our-dikka, which was the name of the eunuch, was seized with affright and fled, and the pious Hassan, lifting up his hands to heaven, prayed, and said, “My God, have pity on thy servants!” Presently a vast mass of clouds collected over head, and the rain fell in torrents, and the army was refreshed and dispersed. This day is remembered as a memorable day.
That which had provoked the pious indignation of the Sheikh Hassan was, that the eunuch had assimilated himself to God, by judging the crowd in the words which will be used at the last day of fiery resurrection. Our-dikka was a very ignorant man, and had never attempted to learn to read until appointed to his high dignity. The Sultan ordered him to take lessons, and he studied the alphabet for a few days. At last he asked for a Koran, and after having looked over it for some time, managed to make out the letter waw standing by itself.
“Is not that a waw?” said he.
“Certainly,” replied his master.
“Now I know the Koran,” exclaimed the eunuch, and he shut up the book and ordered oxen and sheep to be slaughtered, and caused the tambourines to beat, and gave a great festival on the occasion.
In spite of the number of eunuchs and their vigilance, the Sultan is often deceived by his slaves, who send out old women into the city to bring in beardless boys dressed in female garments. This stratagem is the more easy, because it is the custom for all the young negroes to wear their hair long like women. In this way access to the harem is easy; and if God protect the youth he escapes afterwards, if not, he is massacred without mercy. In general no accident happens; but sometimes another woman betrays the secret, or else the Sultan in a jealous mood makes a general search through his huts.
At other times the women themselves go out in disguise, and the eunuchs often allow them to pass, pretending not to recognise them, because they fear their vengeance. The fact is, the women of Soudan are incapable of restraining their passions; and, indeed, it is not to be wondered at, that the Sultan and the wealthy men, with their large harems, should be often deceived, especially as there are a great number of persons who, from want of means, are obliged to lead a life of celibacy. I have already explained, too, how the education of the Forian women prepares them for debauchery.
It is the belief among the Forians, that if the city takes fire, the only means of arresting the progress of the flames is to bring near them a woman, no longer young, who has never been guilty of intrigue. If she be pure, by merely waving a mantle, she puts a stop to the destruction. Success has sometimes rewarded a virtuous woman. When I was in Darfur, a violent conflagration burst forth. The Sultan and all his court came and endeavoured to stop it, but in vain. Then a crier was sent about the city. He passed through every street, exclaiming, “Is there any faithful woman here? Is there a single faithful woman to be found?” But no one came forward, and we must believe that none existed.
I must, however, mention, that conjugal virtues are far from being so uncommon amongst the women of the wandering Arabs in Darfur and its neighbourhood. These women, being more intelligent, are more religious and more faithful than the Forians. Among them there is far more propriety. An Arab woman, for example, who has a son in an honourable position, will abstain from any love intrigue out of respect for his name; but the Forian women not so. An intimate friend of mine, whose name I will not mention, has related to me that the mother of the Sultan Mohammed Fadhl, who was called Ambous,[19] once married her brother to a slave-girl of hers. The wedding was celebrated with great pomp, and an enormous crowd collected, of which my friend was one. “I was standing,” he said, “looking on, when the mother of the Sultan appeared, surrounded by a troop of girls, elegant as gazelles. She was then thirty-five years old, and her countenance was the most hideous possible to conceive. I wondered why God had chosen so frightful a woman to be the mother of a prince. Having led her brother to the nuptial hut, she came forth jingling her anklets and her strings of beads, and, in the dark, I felt a cloud of perfume surrounding me. She came towards me in the midst of her slaves, and, seizing my hand, led me away. I dared not resist, for fear of attracting attention. After proceeding a little way, she whispered that she was tired—she who, before she had been the mother of a Sultan, had been a hewer of wood and a drawer of water, complained of a walk of a hundred yards! I answered politely, and she led me into the hut and made me sit down, and, after some coquetry, seeing that I would not understand, said that she had a headache, and wanted me to repeat some verses of the Koran. I did so, placing my hand upon her forehead, and the odour of her perfumes troubled me; but suddenly I began to think of the danger, and trembled. So the queen, with whom I had been left alone, called out for one of her women, named Dera-el-Gader, who brought me a dish, which I tasted, and found so good, that I ate heartily; but suddenly we heard a great noise, and the servant came running, saying,—‘The Sultan! the Sultan!’ Upon this the women took me and shoved me out, and I was enabled to hide, although some one did cry out that a man was stealing away.” Such was the recital of my friend, which proved to me that eunuchs are not sufficient to prevent women from having lovers if they wish to do so.
I shall here add, that each tribe and nation of Soudan has women celebrated for some qualities of beauty. The most beautiful women, however, are those of Afnan; after them come the women of Bagirmeh, of Bornou, and of Sennaar; then come those of Wadaï; and after them those of Darfur. The ugliest, without exception, are those of Touban and Katakou. God has diversified his creatures in a marvellous manner; and to produce the effect of variety, little is required. Everything that is brown is not musk; everything that is red is not a ruby; and everything that shines is not a diamond; everything that is black is not charcoal; everything that is vermilion is not flesh; and everything that is white is not chalk. The coloured nations, whether they be black or bronzed, have beauties which the white people do not possess. It may be said that light and darkness immeasurably differ; but, verily, some admire the black colour, as this verse proves:—“Her dark complexion is full of charm and grace. Look at it well, and you will no longer admire the white and the rose-coloured. Yes! on account of my sweetheart, I love everything that is black. I love all Soudan on her account; I love even black dogs.” I also, for a time, was a passionate admirer of negresses, and I wrote some verses to justify my taste, and endeavoured to prove that the whole beauty of a countenance is derived from the black parts of it—as the eyes, the eye-brows, and the moles. But afterwards I changed my opinion, and wrote against the poet Safty, who had argued that a black spot on a white face increased its beauty, whilst a white spot on a black face was a deformity. I showed, among other things, that the truth is pure and white. To this Safty replied, that white was the colour of old men’s beards, and also of shrouds—two things which frighten love away. Perhaps there has been much exaggeration put forth on both sides.
When a Forian takes an Arab wife, or vice versâ, it is noticed that the offspring is generally weak and short-lived.[20] Each people has a particular temperament, and, I am inclined to think that, as a rule, mixture of races deteriorates them. In Darfur and Wadaï it has been found necessary to have recourse to various means for preserving the lives of children. It is customary to bleed them on the fortieth day after birth, by scarifying their bellies on both sides. This operation is repeated at the age of three months. If it be neglected, the children generally die of fever and other diseases.
CHAPTER IX.
Mixed Marriages — A Malady in Darfur — Story of the Small-pox — Diseases — Medicine — Birth — Education — Climate — Cause of Depopulation — Food — Weykeh — Food of Poor — Hunting — Classes of Hunters — Bedawin Arabs — Speculation in Ostrich Feathers — Milk — Gold — Money — Salt — Apology for Money — Curious Money.
There is a peculiar malady in Darfur, called Abou-lessan, or father of the tongue, which consists in the appearance of an excrescence at the root of the tongue, which it is necessary to excise.[21] Dysentery is sometimes cured by cauterisation round the navel. When convulsions are brought on by the malice of demons, who find a child left alone for a moment, it is customary, in Egypt and Tunis, for an exorciser to be called in to make invocations, and sometimes the patient is relieved, and sometimes not. But, in Soudan, this disease is treated by actual cautery on the forehead, and cures often result. The small-pox is common in Soudan. As soon as a person is attacked by it he is immediately removed to a hut built in a lonely place—a kind of hospital, in fact, where there are servants who have already had the disease. The Bedawin Arabs are very frightened at this disease. A man of Birguid, named Othman, once related to me that, having had the disease, and having escaped danger, though his skin was still marked, he used to go out with his face covered with the cloth of his turban to protect him from the flies. One day, being thus veiled, a party of Arabs approached, and sent forward a man, who walked with a hesitating and uncertain step. When he was near he cried out,—
“Tell me, I pray thee, if in this village there be any one ill of the small-pox?”
“God preserve me,” replied Othman, “from exciting in thee a dangerous security by a false answer!” So he uncovered his face, and the Arab fell at once to the ground with a great cry.
His companions ran forward and carried him away, and Othman fled, or otherwise they would have killed him. He afterwards learned that the unhappy man died in three days. The people of Soudan have a curious idea on the origin of the small-pox. They pretend that it is brought by a little animal, imperceptible to the eye, but which leaves evident traces of its passage on the ground. This insect fixes on the skin, and thus engenders the disease. I am told that its track consists of a series of round points, disposed in a single straight line, so, . . . .; and they say that, whenever this track is observed in the morning directed towards any house, the small-pox infallibly appears there.
Syphilis is very common in Darfur, but not so common as in Kordofal, where people endeavour to communicate it, fancying that they thus cure themselves; whilst in Darfur people generally shut themselves up. Elephantiasis is common in these countries. Pleurisy is cured by a number of scarifications on the side. There are a variety of other diseases, many of which are fatal; but neither the plague nor phthisis is known. I may add, that the greater number of the therapeutic means used are surgical, and that they are often successful. There are oculists, named shallans, who devote themselves entirely to performing operations for the cataract, in which they are very successful. The doctors are generally old men who have studied carefully the effects of scarification and cautery. The medicaments they use are marvellously simple, consisting generally of tamarinds, honey, and cow’s butter. The last-mentioned substance is used with wonderful success by the Bedawin Arabs to cure gouty pains in the joints. It must be added, that magic is often resorted to as a means of cure, and that the patients are treated by writings; that is to say, papers on which sacred words have been written. The most successful in this kind of treatment are the Fellatahs.
Women in child-birth are attended on by a number of old women, who are very expert in their art. A cord is swung from the roof of the hut, and the woman remains upright, holding on until safely delivered. Eight days after the birth of the child a feast is given, a sheep killed, and the name bestowed. When the child is two or three months old, it is carried about on its mother’s back, in her mantle, even during her hardest work. She continues to carry it in this manner even after it can walk, and, according to the general custom in Muslim countries, she gives it suck for about two years. Unlike the Egyptians, the Forians never marry their daughters until after the age of puberty. The betrothment, however, often takes place two or three years before.
Very little instruction is given to children in Darfur. The reading of the Koran, which is the only primary education, even in Egypt, is very imperfectly spread. One of the reasons is, that the children only go to evening-schools, for all day they are occupied in keeping the flocks and herds. When evening comes on they take their slates and go to school. Every one of them in his turn brings a fagot of wood to make a fire with, and the scholars sit round, and by the light of the flame pursue their studies for an hour or two. The result is general ignorance. The country produces scarcely any Ulemas, and those who do exist give but mediocre lectures on civil and religious law, and on the proofs of the existence and unity of God. Rational studies, that is to say, those which have for their object the sciences of human invention—the liberal arts, the humanities, &c.—are nearly null; a few individuals only possessing a few simple notions on the Arabic grammar. The study of the rules of Arab phraseology, that of the delicacies and varieties of discourse, of tropes, of rhetoric, of logic, and versification, is entirely neglected, except by a few who have gone to study at Cairo. Great importance is attached, however, to the science of demons and magic. Medicine, among the Forians, is a branch of magic, which is cultivated most especially by the Fullans, or Fellatahs.
With reference to climate, Darfur is not equally salubrious throughout its whole extent, and in all its provinces. The most healthy part is the Gouz, or Country of Sand. The Arabs who inhabit it, and breathe its pure air, are full of force and courage; but it contains, unfortunately, little water. The most unhealthy country for strangers is the Saïd; and, indeed, all the great capital towns are remarkably unfavourable to health. In spite, however, of this prevalence of disease, the people of Darfur love their country and cherish their huts. However, it must be observed that, as there are few epidemic diseases in Darfur, the population is tolerably well kept up. Many men reach the age of a hundred, or even a hundred and twenty; and very old people are common, despite of wars, and domestic disturbances, and private quarrels. If it were not for these causes, and the murders which are committed in a state of drunkenness, or from jealousy, the population of Darfur would equal in number the Yagog and the Magog, and the vastest plains would not be able to contain it. Some may object that the women, not being exposed to the same chances of death, ought to exist in greater numbers; but I believe that grief for the loss of their husbands, children, and relations, and the various privations and fatigues they are subject to, prevent their excessive increase. However, there are more old women than old men, even among the very poor. I have remarked that, in this latter class, the misery is so great, that the poor of our country would never be able to support it.
Food that is bitter and disgusting to us seems to the Forians exquisite eating. A little time after my arrival a dish called weykeh was set before me, and I was invited to eat; but this was impossible. My father, hearing of this, said to me,—“He who will not eat weykeh should not come into this country.” However, for some time, he had prepared for me a few dishes that I liked, such as rice and milk. When we went to the Fasher to visit the Sultan, we were lodged by the Fakih Malik. At the first supper a bitter mess was placed before me. I asked what it was, and was answered,—“Weykeh, cooked with heglig.” I found it impossible to touch it. Another dish was brought in, and with it came an abominable stink. “What is that rotten stuff?” cried I. I was told it was weykeh dandary, which was considered a great delicacy; but I could not put a single morsel in my mouth, and so Malik was obliged to send me some fresh milk sweetened with honey. In the evening he asked me why I did not eat any of his dishes.
“The first,” said I, “was too bitter; and the second was too stinking.”
“My friend,” replied he, “these kinds of dishes are necessary for the preservation of health in our country, and whoever does not eat them is in danger of disease.”
The dandary is prepared with the residue of bones of sheep and oxen, which are thrown into a great vase full of water, and left for several days, until they begin to smell strong.[22] Then they are pounded in a mortar, and reduced to a sort of paste, of which balls are made as big as oranges. To prepare a weykeh, one of these balls is dissolved in water, strained and mixed with onions fried in butter, with pepper, salt, and other condiments.
The common food of the poor is millet, not winnowed. Their cookery is detestable; they use a salt extracted from wood-ashes. People a little better off live, for the most part, on milk and butter. They eat meat only from time to time, when an animal is killed, and sold in portions for so many measures of millet. The young men often go out hunting, and kill rabbits, hares, the gazelle, the wild ox, the fox, and the teytel. The latter animal has the form and appearance of a tame ox, but is not larger than a middle-sized calf. It has a couple of horns, one or two spans in length, nearly straight, and bent sometimes forward, sometimes backward. This animal is remarkably stupid, and only flies if it sees a great crowd of people; if one or two people draw nigh, it looks with a tranquil eye and does not move. If the Forians meet a teytel standing still in a plain, they generally cry, “Ya teytel, ya kafer!”—“O teytel, O infidel!” The beast looks at them with indifference, unless they endeavour to approach quite near. The teytel seems to be a variety of the wild ox, but is smaller; its colour is fallow.
Many people in Darfur gain their living by hunting. They are divided into two classes, and are generally workers in iron. They rarely appear in the villages, and form a caste apart, called Darmoudy. They are people without faith and without law, and it is dangerous to meet them in bye-places. The other Forians never seek to ally themselves to them by marriage. The first class hunts quadrupeds, as the gazelle, the wild ox, the elephant, the buffalo, the hyæna, the lion, the rhinoceros, &c. They dig pits, in which they place stakes, and cover them with slight roofings of branches and earth. When they catch an elephant, they take the ivory and the skin; the latter is used to make bucklers and kurbashes. Sometimes the Darmoudies use fixed lassoes to catch their prey; at other times lances and javelins.
The second class of hunters devotes itself entirely to bird-catching. They seek principally the hoberah, a kind of bustard, which they catch with a worm and a line, like a fish. Small birds are taken by nets, to which they are attracted by millet-seeds. If a Darmoudy catches paroquets, or parrots, he pulls out the feathers of their wings and takes them home alive in a basket to sell.
There are some Darmoudies who go into the mountains to hunt various kinds of monkeys. The gun is never used either on this or on any other occasion. Some rich people keep a slave always employed in hunting; and I once tried to procure one who was clever, but did not succeed. The giraffe and the ostrich are hunted principally by the Bedawin Arabs, who run them down on horseback.
The Bedawin Arabs of Darfur and Wadaï are abundantly supplied with everything necessary to support life. They derive from Darfur or Wadaï only a little millet, some maize, and articles of costume. In exchange for these they sell their surplus of butter, honey, cattle, skins of wild or domestic animals, leather sacks, whips, or cords. Most of them are wealthy in butter and in honey. The latter is found in certain trees where the wild bees make their hives. The chase supplies the Arabs with many advantages. Ostrich feathers and rhinoceros’ horns are so plentiful with them as to be of no value. When I was in Wadaï, a Fezzan merchant came there to buy ostrich feathers, and applied to the Shereef, who had succeeded my father as Vizier, for a letter of introduction to the Sheikh, Shaw-shaw, chief of the tribe of Mahami, in order to induce him to hunt the ostrich for a moderate price. The merchant had brought fifty Frank ryals, or dollars. The Shereef wrote the letter for the Fezzanee, who departed for the district where the tribe was settled. On his return, he related to me his commercial expedition in these words:—“When I arrived, I was conducted to the tent of the Sheikh, Shaw-shaw, who received me with bounty and kindness, and gave me a tent of camels’ hair, well furnished. He assigned to me a male and female servant, who attended me in all things. I had brought him a present, which he accepted with joy, giving me another in exchange, and I handed over to him my fifty ryals. He called together a certain number of his Arabs, and said to them,—‘This man is my guest; he has come and confided himself to me, and wants ostrich feathers. Let those who wish to gain some of these dollars go forth to-morrow at dawn of day. Each zhalym-skin shall be paid half a dollar, and each rabdah-skin a quarter of a dollar.’[23]
“Next day, accordingly, the Arabs went out and brought me twenty zhalym-skins. I remained three weeks, and completed a hundred. Shaw-shaw put them on his camels, and carried them for me to Warah, the capital of Wadaï. He gave me, also, a plentiful supply of provisions; as melted ostrich grease, honey, &c. At Warah I sold nearly ninety zhalym-skins for three dollars each, so that, without any fatigue, I gained a pretty profit.”
Milk is so plentiful in Arab encampments that they can never use the whole, in spite of the quantity of butter they make, and are obliged to throw away a large portion. In the districts of the Rezeigat, the Red Masirieh, and others, the pools and ponds are all white with milk.
Very few of the natives of Soudan are able to distinguish gold from copper, or tin from lead. Gold-dust is sometimes used, however, as a medium of exchange. In Darfur there are absolutely no precious metals but such as are imported from abroad, and even the ornaments of women are principally composed of glass beads. It is not astonishing, therefore, that the Forians remained long without knowing the use of silver or gold coins. When commerce, however, became extended, they were obliged to invent some kind of money, and they first used rings of pewter, which they employed for the purchase of daily necessities. For things of a greater price, a long piece of stuff, about five yards long, and half a yard wide, is used. Slaves have also a fixed monetary value, according to their height. For example, a horse may be worth three or four sedasy, or slave, who, from the heel to the lower lobe of the ear, measures six spans. In Darfur are known neither the mahboub nor the piastre, nor any kind of coin used in civilised countries, except the abou-medfah, or pillar-dollar. In the chief towns glass beads are used as money; and in the parts about Guerly they use the falgo, or cake of salt, prepared in a particular manner. There are three kinds of salt in Darfur,—the zaghawy, which is procured from the lakes of the same name; the falgo, which is of a grey colour, opaque, and rather agreeable to the taste; and the mydaoub, which is of a blood-red colour, and by far the best. At Krousa tobacco is used as money, and is called taba. It is pounded into a paste, and made up into hollow cones, about the size of a pear. By the way, I have read a piece of verses composed by one of the descendants of the Kaliph Abou-Bekr, the object of which is to prove that smoking is not a sin. These verses date from about the middle of the ninth century of the Hegira. I shall extract one or two verses:—
“The all-powerful God has produced from the soil of our country a plant, the true name of which is tabgha.
“If any one in his ignorance maintains that this plant is forbidden, say to him, ‘How do you prove it? By what verse of the Koran?’
“This plant does not inebriate, and this is why God has not condemned it. Whence hast thou taken thy word of condemnation?
“If thou inspirest the smoke of the tabgha, it rejoices and solaces thee; but never forget to say before the first puff,—B’ism Illah, in the name of God.
“And when thou hast finished, give praise to the single God, and this will bring upon thee abundant blessings.”
In some places little bundles of cotton-twist are used as money, and at others strings of onions. At one market the iron head of a kind of hoe is employed; and in the Gouz the same purpose is served by handfuls of millet. In many places the measure of value is an ox; and they say, for example, “this horse is worth ten or twenty oxen.”
CHAPTER X.
Productions of Darfur — Fruit — Trees — The Thlyleg — Nebks — The Ochan — Horse-stealers — Medicinal Plants — Seasons — Wind and Rain — Wonderful Plants — Herbalists — The Narrah — Its Magical Properties — Strange Roots — Robbers — Buried Sacred Books — Sorcerers — A wonderful Foulan — The Temourkehs — Strange Stories — A Slave-hunt in Dar-Fertyt — Sand Diviners — Prophecies that came to pass.
The Forians, in their autumn season, which corresponds to our summer, take advantage of the rain to sow the ground. It is probably on account of these rains, which are very heavy, that they generally sow neither wheat nor barley, nor beans nor lentils, nor chick-peas. In Darfur we found neither apricots nor peaches, nor apples, nor pomegranates, nor olives, nor prunes, nor pears, nor the sweet-lemon, nor oranges, nor almonds, nor nuts, nor pistachios, nor walnuts, nor the fruit of the service-tree. The principal thing cultivated is the millet; but they also cultivate different kinds of maize. I have already mentioned, that in some districts wheat is sown. In the pools, and in places where water stands for some time, rice grows without any cultivation, and the people gather it in in the spring. Sessame is sown, but the grain is eaten, and no oil is made. Honey is common in Darfur, but the wax is made no use of. Houses are lighted by a kind of wood. Charcoal is never made.
Darfur produces some small water-melons, which are eaten either fresh, as in Egypt, or dried and steeped in water, so as to make a kind of sherbet. Onions, garlic, pepper, and various kinds of cucumbers are sown, and several species of vegetables are found in some provinces. The river Kou flows through a great valley, which it inundates in autumn, after which, when the waters retire, an immense quantity of bamieh springs up spontaneously. There is a kind of bean peculiar to Darfur.
The only tree in this country which resembles those of Egypt is the date-palm, which is found in some districts. One of the most useful trees in the country is the sheglyg, more properly the thlyleg.[24] There are two varieties, called the yellow and the red, on account of the colour of the fruit, which is about the size of a large date. The tree, by its stature and appearance, reminds one of the Egyptian sycamore. The leaves are slightly oval, and the fruit has a bitter-sweet taste, and a peculiar odour. It is prepared in a great variety of manners. Every part of the tree is put to some use. The young sprouts of the leaves are used as a seasoning; they are also applied to wounds, in a paste prepared by chewing, and form an effectual cure. The green fruit, pounded in a mortar, is used as soap, and answers the purpose admirably; as, indeed, do the roots. The wood of the tree is burned in torches to light the houses, and produces no smoke. From it also are prepared the slates on which the children learn to write and read. When burnt, the ashes produce a slightly bitter salt, which is used for seasoning. In fine, this tree answers even more purposes of utility than the palm.
There are two kinds of nebk in Darfur, the fruit of which is used both as food and medicinally. The tebeldy is a great tree with a hollow trunk, in which the rain collects and forms reservoirs, to which the wandering Arabs repair to quench their thirst. Its fruit is used to cure diarrhœa. The cocoa-nut is found towards the north. The geddeim produces a small fruit, to which I know of no other equal. There are many other trees of useful properties growing wild about the country. Two kinds of cotton are cultivated.
The ochan is a shrub, the different parts of which are applied to different purposes. It produces, among other things, a kind of down, which is twisted into thread, and used to repair the water-skins, to make cords, and to stop leaks in leather sacks. The juice, when applied to the skin of an animal, makes the hair fall off. Horse-stealers use it to disguise the animals which they steal. The tree which produces gum-arabic is found in sandy places. The vast branches of the haraz afford shadow to a hundred men. There are many trees which do not produce fruit, but are used only for timber. However, I will not endeavour to give a complete account of the vegetable productions of Darfur, because when I was there I was still young, and ignorant of botany.
The Fertyts, who inhabit the vast country south of Darfur, and who are idolaters, possess a tree called the gana, which supplies a very pretty wood, used for making lance-handles.
Among the remarkable plants is the kyly, which produces the fruit from which is made the ordeal liquor of which I have already spoken. The leaves of the shalob, when chewed, take away the taste of wine from the mouth. The dagarah is used as a medicine in ophthalmia. I once was at the market of Numleh, and, having handled pepper incautiously, put my hand to my eyes; a severe pain and great swelling came on, and I was obliged to stop at a village and go into an old woman’s house, suffering dreadfully. My hostess, however, sent for some leaves of the dagarah, pounded them in a mortar, and dropped the juice upon my eyes, and I was cured by one or two applications.
The greater part of the trees and other vegetables of Darfur have their fruit ripe towards the end of autumn, which corresponds to the end of summer in Egypt. The rains begin at the beginning of their autumn; and I have learned from various points that it is these rains which assist in swelling the river Nile. In 1841 of the Christian era the great Kadi of Wadaï told me that 1837, the year of famine in Egypt, was signalised by an extraordinary drought in his country. The rainy season is ushered in by great wind-storms, which roll enormous clouds from the east, raising also vast columns of sand from the plains of the Gouz. The horizon becomes also of a blood-red colour. Rain always follows, accompanied by thunder. During the whole of the season prodigious showers fall, accompanied by violent thunder-claps. When the lightning falls it commits great destruction. I have seen branches torn away from great trees, huts burnt down, and a man’s arm broken. The Forians say that those who carry iron about them are never struck, which is exactly contrary to the opinion of the Europeans.
During the Darfur summer great winds prevail, which raise enormous clouds of dust, and vast mirages inundate the plains. It has been noticed that the showers which fall during the night are much more gentle than those that fall by day. Rainbows are common; I have seen five or six at the same time, some rising straight up in the air. The rains last about sixty days; if less, there is famine. In Darfur and Wadaï the names of the months are of Arab origin, without any reference to the denominations used by the Greeks, the Copts, or the Europeans.
I shall now say something of the marvellous qualities of some plants of Darfur. I do so with some hesitation, fearing to be accused of falsehood; but there are some extraordinary things which must be told. The chief properties of these magic plants are in the roots. There exist in Darfur master-herbalists, who have scholars under them. They unite from time to time to go on expeditions, and climb the mountains, and plunge into the valleys in search of plants. They are called in Darfur, Magicians, and enjoy a certain reputation. They are all in rivalry one against another, and in strong competition. They keep their roots in horns of goats, rams, or oxen.
These roots are used for different purposes; among others, to compose what is called the narrah. When I was in Darfur, there was at Jedid es-Seil a certain man named Bakourloukou, who acquired an astonishing reputation by the magical power of his narrah. When any one loved a young girl who was too rebellious to his wishes, he used to go to Bakourloukou and buy of his narrah, and rub his face and hands therewith. Afterwards, when he met with her he loved, he passed his hand over her shoulders, or some other part of the body, and love at once filled her heart, and she could no longer live without him. Even if her parents refused their consent to her marriage, she eloped with her lover. Moreover, if any one had a request to make to the Sultan, and bought some of this narrah, he was sure to succeed. Bakourloukou obtained in this way an extraordinary reputation; and it became a saying among the women, that he could obtain for any one two girls for five yards of cotton. One day a person who had some narrah came to see me, and wanted me to buy; but I refused, saying, “that I was young enough to please women for myself, and that I was in favour with the Sultan.”
The Forians also possess roots by which they can do evil to their enemies. There is one which causes death if it be buried in the earth, in the shade of the head of the intended victim, who is at once struck with bewilderment and loses all consciousness, and perishes if a proper antidote be not administered. By similar means any particular member is paralysed. Others stun people by the smoke of certain roots, collected in a sleeve, which they shake in their faces.[25]
The Forians also possess roots, the quality of which is to overcome people with a singular lethargy. They are principally used by robbers, who penetrate with them by night into houses, and if they find the inhabitants awake shake them towards them three times, upon which God shuts their ears and they understand nothing. The robber then comes and goes without fear; and sometimes kills a sheep, skins it, roasts it, and eats some of it, and puts a piece of the liver into the hands of each of the sleepers, and goes away, carrying with him what he wants. A little after the people awake from their trance, and ask one another what kind of man it was they had seen, and what he can have been doing. Then only they discover, but too late, the robbery that has been committed.
This employment of the mysterious power of plants is a thing known to every Forian. I once asked a learned man what he thought of these matters, and he replied:—“The books sent by God to the prophets, Adam, Seth, and Abraham, &c., have been buried in the earth, and God has caused these magical plants to grow above them. The winds spread their seeds to the four corners of the earth, and experience has discovered the strange virtues which have been communicated to them by the Divine Spirit contained in these ancient writings.” For my part, I see in all these things works of enchantment and sorcery. The same effects are produced, in fact, by the magical force of certain figures traced in a certain manner, and by invocations of the superior and inferior angels. I shall relate some examples.
Persons of good faith and acknowledged veracity have certified to me, that in the war which took place between the Kaliph, son of Tyrab, and the Sultan Abd-er-Rahman, some partisans of the former, who were armed with guns, were so powerfully charmed by sorcerers on the other side that their weapons produced no effect. On another occasion, the Fakih Malik bewildered the sons of the Sultan and threw them into the hands of Kourra and Fadhl, against whom they had revolted.
The persons most celebrated in Darfur for their charms and magical doings are the Foulans, or Felattahs. One of them, named Tamourrou, used to perform the most miraculous acts. A person worthy of credit related to me the following instance: “I went with Tamourrou,” he said, “from Jedid-kerio to the Fasher; the sun was burning hot; the magician was mounted on a camel; he took his cloak and spread it before him, and then folded it up, and, placing it on his knee, pronounced certain words: afterwards he threw it in the air, and it unfolded and remained spread over him and me like a parasol, as if held by invisible hands. Wherever Tamourrou’s camel moved it followed. This was an extraordinary fact. Well, we were proceeding on in the shade, when suddenly the rain came on and fell in torrents. Upon this Tamourrou said to his servant, who was following him on foot: “Give me a handful of sand;” and having pronounced certain words, whirled his hand round his head in a circle, scattering the sand as he did so. The rain-cloud immediately separated, one part going to the right and the other to the left, and we continued our route without having a thread wetted.”
It is also related that some people have the power of paralysing whoever attempts to attack them. But the most extraordinary facts are those which are related of the Massalits and the Temourkehs, who have the power of metamorphosing themselves into different kinds of animals. All the Forians say that the former can change into hyænas, cats, and dogs, and the latter into lions. Another extraordinary thing related of the Temourkehs is that, according to their own account, three days after their death, they resuscitate and come out of their tombs, and go into other countries to marry again, and accomplish a second life.
In Darfur, every one acknowledges that the Sultan has under his orders a number of men having the power of metamorphosing themselves. They are used as agents and ambassadors. If they are in danger of being seized, they transform themselves into air or wind. I once became very intimate with one of these people, and at length ventured to speak on the subject of his wonderful power, but he turned aside the conversation, and avoided a direct answer. Another time I pressed the question closer, upon which he smiled and said:—“I did not think you were so simple as to believe all that is said on this subject.” Then he talked of other things, and soon left me, and from that time forward, whenever he met me he turned aside, and our acquaintance utterly ceased.
I was once following a Ghazwah, or slave-hunt, directed against the Fertyts by a king. As he owed me a debt, he took me with him to pay me from the slaves he was to capture.[26] We advanced far into Dar-Fertyt, and remained there three months, in a place without fruits or vegetables. One day the king sent for me, and I found him surrounded by green onions and long cucumbers, as fresh as if just plucked from the garden. I asked who had given them to him?
“They arrived from Darfur,” said he.
“Who brought them? and how can their freshness have been preserved?”
“They have been transported hither in an instant—look at this letter, and see the date of it.”
I took the letter, and found that it was from one of his friends in Darfur, and that it was dated the same morning.
“Do not be so surprised,” said the king, “for we have with us men of Temourkeh, who have the faculty of transforming themselves as they please, and of traversing the greatest distance in a very short period of time.”
“I should wish,” said I, “to see some of these people.”
“You shall,” said he; and accordingly, on our return, we passed through a village of the Temourkehs, and stopped there to pass the night. In the morning the people came to visit the king, and the chief said to him,—
“I beg, if you see any lions on your way, not to attack them, for they are our companions metamorphosed.”
“But,” said the king, “I should like to hear some of them roar.”
“The thing is easy,” replied the Temourkeh; and he called three of his men by name, and they came near him, and then went away and disappeared in the plain. Presently we heard a roar that made us tremble, and the other animals exhibit their fear.
“That,” said the Temourkeh, “is such a one;” and called him by his name. Two other roars, each more terrible still, were heard, and then the sham lions came back in their human shape. They kissed the hands of the king, who felicitated them, and made them presents of new garments.
“Well,” said he, afterwards, to me, “you have seen these men; it was they who brought us the onions and the cucumbers in the solitudes of Dar-Fertyt.”
I must not omit to mention the sand-diviners, who discover things that are both past and future. I had once reason to believe in their predictions, on the occasion of my journey from Darfur to Wadaï. I knew a man, named Salem, who had a son-in-law named Ishak, who was very learned in the service of the sand. I did not know how to provide for the expenses of my journey, and went to this magician, who performed his calculations and uttered his prophecy. I did not believe him at first, but I swear, before God, that everything he predicted to me was realised to the letter, as if he had read in the book of destiny. He answered to me that I should succeed in departing for Wadaï, with all those who composed my house, except my father’s wife, who would remain in Darfur. I said this was impossible, because she was most interested of any of us in our departure. But it came to pass that my father’s wife refused to go, and escaped on the eve of departure, leaving to us her daughter, aged about seven years. We never knew what became of her. Ishak also said to me,—“The day that you arrive in your father’s house at Wadaï you will receive a young slave answering such a description, but you will not find your father until you come to Tunis. The house of thy father is red.” These and other predictions were fulfilled to the letter.
Whilst we were with Ishak many women came, in a state of great excitement, to learn where they might find things that had been stolen from them. He pointed out the place, but refused to betray the robbers.
My uncle Zarouk once related to me that my father lost a camel in the desert, and found it by means of a sand-diviner; and many other curious things are told. However, I shall not enter into further detail on this subject, for God only knows what is true.
END OF PART I.