Part II.—WADAÏ.
CHAPTER I.
Long Residence of the Sheikh in Wadaï — Message from his Father — The Sultan opposes his Departure — He is Imprisoned — His Slaves begin to desert him — His hard Case — The Sultan going his rounds — He returns to his Land — A King’s Journey — The Sheikh receives permission to depart — Annoying Delays — March of an Army in the Desert — The Travellers are abandoned — Night in the Wilderness — Wadaïans — Safe Arrival and Reception.
After my father left Darfur I remained there seven years and some months, during which time I visited many places, and rested under many trees, wandering hither and thither, mixing with the inhabitants, sometimes going to the north and sometimes to the south. Everywhere I was received by the principal persons of each country, and I made a point of seeking the society of all men at all remarkable for instruction. I examined everything, great and small, and from whomsoever seemed to possess any interesting notions I begged the dew of his knowledge and the rain-shower of his learning. In a word, I did my best to obtain information of every kind, both from persons of high and low degree.
When I had gathered what I desired of this kind, I thought of taking a little rest, and of earning some gold and silver. I was tranquilly established in my village, occupied with my agricultural speculations, enjoying what God had bestowed upon me, and endeavouring to increase my well-being, when I received a letter from my father, announcing his approaching departure from Wadaï to Tunis. “I want,” said he to me, “to see my mother again, and I wish not to leave in Soudan any of those who are dear to me. On receipt of this letter hasten to join me. It is my wish that we should all set out together. Bring with thee thy family, and come immediately. Salutations.” So I immediately prepared for departure, and was ready in a few days. Little did I think of what Fortune had in store for me.
I departed with my family from the village where I was established, and repaired to Tendelty, to obtain my leave of absence. But, on reaching the Fasher, I learned that the Sultan of Wadaï was marching against Dar-Tamah, a country situated to the west of the northern provinces of Darfur. It is of considerable extent, and bristles all over with mountains. Its Sultan acknowledges himself as a vassal of Darfur. The news of this expedition had just reached Tendelty; and it was said that the Sultan of Wadaï intended, if he were successful, to pursue his conquests, and attack Darfur itself. These reports had much disquieted Mohammed Fadhl, who was making preparations for war, and levying a great army. There could be no worse time for me to make my request. However, I presented myself at court, and asked permission to go and join my father. Fadhl frowned terribly, and turned away his head, and the tranquil air with which he had been discussing business entirely disappeared.
“Thy father,” said he, with a severe aspect, “is verily singular in his way of going on. Does he imagine that we cannot divine his intentions? Does he think to deceive me? He wants to have thee by him, and enjoy thy presence, because his new Sultan is advancing against us, and is about to enter this country with his army. His object is to save thee from the dust and the danger of battle. But no! thou shalt not depart. Thou shalt not procure him this pleasure.”
Then the Sultan ordered the Sheikh, Abdallah Dagasa, to keep watch over me until the conclusion of the war. This Sheikh had succeeded Kourra in the post of Ab. He shut me up, with all those who were to have departed with me, in a house opposite his own, and ordered ten of his people to watch me. These ten gaolers came with their baggage, and installed themselves at the entrance of my prison, and under the eaves of my hut. For my part, I was forbidden to cross the threshold, though my people could come and go as they pleased. Two sentinels kept watch all night. God knows what sadness overwhelmed me, and what dismal thoughts soon filled my mind. I succeeded, however, in gaining the friendship of the chief of my guardians, by inviting him to eat with me. He was naturally a good person, and treated me with politeness. Whenever I rose he rose also, out of respect.
My store of provisions was soon exhausted. I asked permission to send some one to my village to get a fresh supply, but this was refused me, by the influence of Fakih Malik. I was therefore obliged to make up my mind to sell some of my slaves, and they at once began to hate me, though they had formerly exhibited the greatest attachment. A young girl escaped from the prison, and I could not learn whither she had gone. I wished to go out by day to seek for her, but my guardians dissuaded me, saying that it would be wiser to go by night. I went, therefore, after sunset to Fakih Malik, and informed him of the loss of my slave, with tears in my eyes. The Fakih seemed to sympathise with me, but said I was imprudent to venture out of prison, and that if the Sultan came to know of it he would punish me severely, for his anger against my father was still great. He added, however, that he would do his best for me, and promised to cause my beautiful slave to be sought for. I then told him that my provisions were exhausted, and that from care I could sleep neither night nor day. I had already been obliged to sell one slave-girl to have wherewith to feed my people. “Is it true,” I asked, “that the Sultan refuses me permission to send to my village for provisions?” “I promise,” replied he, “to obtain for thee what thou desirest. I swear to thee by the god of this dark night.” I testified my gratitude to Malik, and went away satisfied with his reception and his promises. But I waited several days in my prison in vain, and felt that I had been deceived. Then I wrote to him a letter, in which, having spoken respectfully, like a son to his father, I reminded him of his promise, and told him that I had no longer either provisions or money; that the price of the slave sold was spent; and that I had no longer even wherewith to eat. One of my guards carried this letter, and returned soon afterwards with an answer, in which, after the usual form of politeness, he said to me:—“A prudent man puts by sufficient for the hour of want. Do as thou pleasest. I have begged permission for thee of the Sultan, and thereby roused his anger, so that he gave me no direct answer. Wait until God creates more favourable circumstances. His providence watches over all. Know, also, that if thou wert not of the noble blood of the Shereefs it would have gone harder with thee. Salutations.”
On receiving this letter I was overwhelmed with grief; but resignation was the only thing left to me. Some days afterwards, two slave-girls and a male slave escaped from my prison. Then I repented me that I had not already sold all my slaves. Their flight drove me to despair, and I was devoured by disquietude; but I wrote no more to Fakih Malik. I had now only left a slave-woman, blind of one eye, who had been the concubine of my uncle, another woman, who was my own concubine, and two Sedasy slaves. One morning I missed my concubine. She also had fled. This last blow was too much. I felt like the bird that has no longer any means of escaping from its cage. I called the chief of my guards, and related to him my sorrows. He was saddened, and he sighed and groaned, and, at the same time, endeavoured to console me.
When the night came I went out with one of my guards, once more determined to seek an interview with Malik, and to lay my case before him. We had not gone far when a troop of horsemen came riding down the street, and were close upon us before we observed them. The Sultan himself was making his rounds through the city, and distributing patrols and guards to prevent spies from penetrating into the capital. Whoever on these occasions was found, without being able to give a good account of himself, was put to death. Many thus lost their lives. The expedition of the people of Wadaï against Tamah was the reason of this unusual rigour.
When we were met by the cavalcade of the Sultan, some one cried out,—
“Who goes there?”
I answered, “The Shereef, son of the Shereef Omar of Tunis.”
“Stop,” said the horseman; “here is the Sultan.”
I stood still, and the troop gathered round me, reining in their horses. I was alone, for my companion, at the first sound of the trampling of hoofs, had fled away like a bird. The Sultan drew nigh. Happily for me there was with him one of his viziers, with whom I was intimately united in friendship, named Suliman Tyr. Then the Sultan said to me,—
“Who art thou?”
And the man who had hailed me at once put in,—“This is the man whose father is at Wadaï.”
“And why art thou abroad at this hour?” said the Sultan.
Then I laid before him my misfortunes, and spoke of the loss of my slaves, and of all I possessed. My teeth chattered for fear.
“But,” said the Sultan, “did I not set a guard over thee?”
“Yes, prince, and that is the cause of my misfortune. I am kept in prison, but my slaves are allowed to fly, and none remain to me. I wished to take advantage of the darkness, to go forth and visit Malik, and lay before him my case, in the hope that he would speak to your majesty, and that you would order either my deliverance or my death; for it is better to die than to live in this anguish.”
“How is that?”
“Prince of the faithful,” replied I, “I no longer possess anything—neither provisions nor slaves. I have passed many days without eating. I have so suffered from hunger that I can no longer sleep. In a moment of fever I have stolen a handful of millet from a measure set before an ass, and devoured it like a beast of burden. I am in despair. Misfortune holds my two hands down in the dust.”
Then Suliman Tyr came forward, and bent his knees, and begged, in the name of our friendship, that I should not be made responsible for the faults of my father, but that I should be restored to liberty. His pleading was so eloquent, that the Sultan was afflicted, and said,—
“I take away thy guards, and restore thee to liberty; but thou shalt not depart from Tendelty until I am well assured that the Sultan of Wadaï has given up the idea of warring upon us, and has returned to his country.”
These words recalled me to life, and calmed my sorrows, and I said,—
“I beg that your majesty will allow me to return to my estates, to take wherewith to live. I have suffered all that can be suffered. Perfumes are for wedding-nights, not for other nights. I only ask what is absolutely necessary. Grant me this grace, and may God reward you.”
The Sultan acquiesced in this demand, and allowed me full right over my property; so I returned full of joy, happy at having attained my object, and being delivered from my prison. It was now four months from the commencement of my captivity. I quoted the words of the Prophet,—“If Sadness enters the lizard’s hole, Joy follows it, and drives it out.” I passed the night most tranquilly, and in the morning my guards were taken away, and I felt myself at liberty. I went immediately to see Malik, who congratulated me on my deliverance, but was in reality grieved and disconcerted.
I then sent to my village for grain and provisions for me and my people, and remained at the Fasher until the season when the rain began to fall in torrents. Then I received the order to go to Aboul-Joudoul and remain there. So I departed, and, returning to my old dwelling, began to cultivate my land, and, above all, to sow millet, which forms the principal food of the Forians. The seed-time was favourable, and every one predicted for me an abundant harvest. My fields were magnificent, and the village envied me.
Some time before the harvest season I was visited by one of the kings of Darfur, who invited me to accompany him on a journey he was about to make. I allowed myself to be persuaded, and departed from Aboul-Joudoul, in hopes to acquire this king’s good-will. After one day’s journey we reached a country where were many relations of his, and stopped to pass the night. He was detained there the next day and treated to a magnificent repast. Nothing could exceed the politeness with which I myself was entertained. I was full of joy, when suddenly there rode up to us one of the Sultan’s special couriers, and, having saluted the company, said,—
“Which of you is the son of the Shereef Omar?”
“I am the man,” replied I; “at thy service.” “The Sultan asks for thee. Take the trouble to come to the Fasher.”
“Willingly,” said I; but it was evident to all that I was troubled. The king said to me,—
“Wherefore this fear?”
“It is because I am ignorant why the Sultan sends for me.”
“This,” said he, “is no cause of disquietude; why shouldst thou torment thyself?”
However, I still remained uneasy, and when night came went forth secretly and ordered my slave to saddle my horse, and, departing with him, rode all night, and by dawn of day reached Aboul-Joudoul. Here I learned that the courier had been in search of me. I took provisions, issued my orders, and, getting upon another horse, pushed on to Tendelty without stopping. On arriving, I went to the house of Malik, who received me graciously, and said,—
“The Sultan, our master, consents to thy departure. Thou art free; he leaves thee to do as thou wilt, except that thou must be ready to go in a week. Return to thy house, take thy family, and depart with the swiftness of a bird.”
“But,” said I, “my fields are sown, and we are on the eve of the harvest. Will not the Sultan allow me time to gather in my crops?”
“Listen to me,” he replied; “the Sultan, our master, is going to send the Fakih Ahmed Abou-Sarrah as an ambassador to the Prince of Wadaï. It is his desire that thou shouldst depart with this expedition. If thou wilt take advantage of this opportunity, prepare at once. Think well of the matter, for at a future time it will not be possible for thee to leave Darfur. As for thy crops, care not for them. However, thou art wise enough to choose for thyself.”
I accordingly agreed to go, and returned to Aboul-Joudoul to get ready. I abandoned, though unwilling, my crops, which would have been very profitable, and made a present of them, before witnesses, to one of my servants. Then I returned with my family to the Fasher, and waited upon Malik, who handed over to me a passport signed by the Sultan, recommending me to all the chiefs by the way. We had special orders for the governor of the western province, by which we were to leave Darfur, requesting him to accompany us with his soldiers until he brought us to a place of safety. “Take this order,” said Malik, “and go and join Sarrah, who waits for thee at Kelkabieh.” I took the paper, and having thanked Malik, bade him adieu.
Next morning I set out, and arrived in two days at Kelkabieh. I stopped at Sarf-el-Degaj to see Ahmed the younger, son of Ahmed Bedawee, with whom I had come from Cairo. I remained with him twelve days, whilst we waited to collect a sufficient number of travellers for Wadaï. Then we set out, taking the direction of the western province, that is to say, the province of the Massalit. We reached it in five days, and on the sixth presented ourselves before the king of the province, and showed him our firman. He received us well, and promised to accompany us with his troops, and to leave us only when we should be out of danger, but he would not depart, he said, before thirty days were over. We laid before him our remonstrance, to the effect that this delay would be too long, and that our provisions would be exhausted; but he told us that he had business to perform which rendered it necessary for him to remain. We flattered him, and, so to speak, scratched his head to soothe him, as the camel-drivers soothe their beasts; but he remained obstinate, and we were compelled to tarry in that country until the thirty days had expired. Then we presented ourselves before him, and reminded him of his promise; but he put us off once more for three days, swearing that he would then set out. We waited until the three days passed, and threatened to return. Then he got into a passion, and made loud complaints, and invented all kinds of explanations. “This time,” said he, “in three days I will depart without fail. God is the hope of us all, and he will relieve me from my embarrassments.”
We agreed, however unwilling, to wait, and these other three days being passed, presented ourselves to him, and said,—“The honest man performs what he promises, and clouds give rain after thunder.” This time he set out with us, followed by some of his troops and guards. Our caravan marched under his protection for three days, which, such were his attentions to us, seemed like a continued festival. But the fourth day we halted upon one of his estates, at the extreme limit of the province. Here he spent the whole week collecting his soldiers, horse and foot. New embarrassment on our part, new delays—we feared again to see our journey put off.
However, every day new additions were made to our company; troops of men came flocking in from all sides; and our encampment resembled that of an army. One morning he looked abroad and saw that he had sufficient strength, and ordered the camels to be laden, and gave the signal of departure. It was still early when we started; our caravan was placed in the middle of the army, which marched in one mass. Presently we got beyond the cultivated country, and entered the uninhabited districts which separate, like a wall, Darfur from Wadaï. In this wilderness we beheld an innumerable quantity of wild animals, from the elephant down to the gazelle and the hare. The hares, frightened by the noise we made in marching, started up from their covers, and flying on all sides, as if blind, came some of them into the midst of the soldiers, who killed them nearly at their feet. A great number of gazelles and other animals, bewildered by this invasion of their territory, were killed without trouble. The army amused itself thus with hunting until the great heat of the day had passed, when the king set up his tent, and all by degrees followed his example. Fires were lighted over the whole surface of the plain, and all the game taken was roasted. The meal finished, and the heat somewhat subsiding, we again set out; but suddenly our progress was arrested, and the vacillating governor rode up and informed us that he intended to return. I alone dared to make an objection. “If thou returnest,” said I, “we will return with thee. We will not remain here, unescorted, in the midst of these solitudes.” He endeavoured to excuse himself, alleging his numerous occupations, but we insisted that our safety should be provided for. Then he gave us one of his suite as a guide, with an escort of fifty or sixty horsemen, and told him to accompany us until we were in safety, and until we sent him away. Then we bade adieu to the king, who immediately set off at a gallop, followed by the great mob of his army, and returned towards his country, and as we pursued our way in the other direction their murmur and trampling soon no longer came to us, and the last stragglers disappeared amidst the trees. Our guide escorted us for some hours, and then pulled up and told us that he intended to leave us. We made what opposition we could, and repeated to him over and over again that we were without means of defence; that four armed men would be sufficient to destroy us; and that, if anything happened to us, our blood would be upon his head. “Nay,” said he, “I will not proceed, for you are now near the cultivated lands of Wadaï; and we are afraid, on account of our enemies. If they perceive us, blood will be spilt, and it will be your fault.” We conjured him in the name of all the saints and of all the prophets, and exerted ourselves to persuade him to accompany us a little farther. He yielded; but scarcely had he escorted us a quarter of an hour more when he and his companions again reined in, and said that they would not advance a single step farther. He swore that he had never led out his escort to so great a distance before, and, having given us a guide, and received our adieus, galloped off and left us. Then fear entered our minds: every bush, every clump of trees, seemed to us to be men approaching to kill us. Uneasiness blinded our eyes; night was coming on; there seemed to be no longer a single drop of blood in our veins, so greatly were we terrified.
Darkness came over us in the middle of a forest. We made our camels kneel down, and hastened to collect wood and light great fires all around to keep off the lions. We passed a melancholy night of fear, ever on the watch. Only few of the most stupid were able to sleep; for the roaring of the lions and the howling of the wolves and the hyenas continually filled our ears. Sometimes also the crashing step of an elephant made us shudder for our safety. We saw an incredible number of these huge animals in the forest; on the ground, moreover, were spread on all sides great quantities of tusks, which had grown yellow in the sun, and even black. We observed some enormous ones, sufficient of themselves to lade a good camel; others were split in two, or covered with crevices in an incalculable number.
During the night we kept good watch, and the next day, before sunrise, we had laden our camels, which soon went swinging away with their regular step through the trees. Having marched for about three hours, we entered a district which appeared to be cultivated, and our guide declared to us that he dared not go any farther, and bidding us adieu hastened away, fearing for himself. We proceeded for about a quarter of an hour, when suddenly there appeared coming down upon us a troop of cavaliers, fully armed, bearing lances with large iron heads, and javelins. They threw several of the latter towards us, and we halted and cried, “Peace! peace! we are merely travellers, your guests!”—“Do not move,” they answered; “remain where you are, and wait till we have informed the governor.” We halted in the sun, not being allowed even to go under the shade of some trees that were at a little distance from us; we sat down under cover of four camels. The horsemen of Wadaï took position opposite to us, and allowed us neither to advance nor to retire. But, meanwhile, they had sent a messenger to their governor, or king, who soon appeared, accompanied by some ten horsemen. His approach was announced by the sharp jingling of the bells which hung on the necks of the horses. The troop drew nigh, and, putting foot to ground, sat under the shade of a tree, and called us to them. We advanced, and when we were near at hand one of the horsemen came a little forward, and said to us: “The king salutes you.” It is customary for a Wadaïan king never to address himself directly to his visitors; he communicates with them only through one of his suite. We returned the salutation, and the same horseman said to us: “The king demands who you may be, whence you come, and what is the object of your visit?”—“We come from Darfur,” was our reply; “our caravan is composed of merchants, of an envoy from the Prince of Darfur, and of another individual, a simple traveller, the Shereef, son of Omar of Tunis.”
Our names were written down upon paper, and the king, mounting his horse, departed with five of his people, leaving the other five with those who at first met us. As he departed he said: “Remain here until you receive my orders.” We made our camels kneel down, and sat ourselves under the shade of a tree. Our guards gave us some water, and we waited about two hours, when there came to us, jingling their bells, another troop of horsemen. They were dressed in a long and ample garment, like the black dress of the Fellatah women of Egypt; but they were bareheaded. Every one of them, behind each ear, had a swelling something like the bubo of a plague-patient. These swellings are produced artificially, by the means of cups applied behind the ears, and from which the air is exhausted by suction. When the cups or horns are taken away the tumefied skin is puckered up by the fingers, and two lines of incisions being made, the portion of skin between them is removed, and the cups are again applied. When a good deal of blood has been drawn, cotton is applied, and, the wound being healed, there remains a projection resembling a gland. The people of Wadaï lay great stress upon these swellings, which may be called bumps of courage. Whoever does not possess them is looked upon as a coward, and is repulsed on all hands. In the language of the country they are called Dauma, in allusion to the fruit of the Daum. The Wadaïans despise strangers who are not thus distinguished, thinking it impossible that any one can be courageous who does not possess these bumps.
As I have said, all these horsemen were bareheaded, except their chief, who wore a skull-cap of black stuff; he had also a Melayeb, or scarf-mantle, over his shoulders. The party alighted at a certain distance and ordered us to approach, and when we drew nigh their chief said:—“The Aguid (or governor), my master, salutes you.” We answered by compliments to the chief and to the Sultan; and after some further communications our names were written down, accompanied by a complete description of ourselves and the merchandise we brought with us. This done, we were told to wait during the hot time of the day, when they promised to take us to the Aguid.
We rested in the shade, and ate, and drank, and slept, until the heat of the sun diminished, and the shadows were lengthening, when we were ordered to mount our camels. The Wadaïans surrounded us, and we marched rapidly until dark, when we reached the residence of the governor. This residence had a court nearly as large as the Roumeileh, one of the great squares of Cairo. We were placed in one corner, and soon after we had arranged our baggage were called, to be presented to the Aguid. They took us to the principal hut in the centre of the enclosure, where we were told to sit down opposite a partition made of reeds. Some one came out and said the Aguid salutes you. We returned the salute, and the governor himself, from behind the partition which separated him from us, said: “Who may you be, and wherefore do you come to Wadaï? whence do you come, and what merchandise do you bring?” We answered appropriately, and were then told that we might consider ourselves as the guests of the Sultan, who was to be immediately apprised of our arrival. A courier was, indeed, immediately despatched to the capital, and we waited patiently under the protection of the governor of the eastern province for seven days, during which food was given us.
On the eighth day the messenger returned, accompanied by a troop of horsemen. They had with them a wooden tambourine, the sound of which may be heard at a great distance, and straight trumpets, at least three cubits in length, which produce a strong sound. As they approached the village the troop announced itself by this curious music. The Aguid, with all his people, went out to receive it. The bells hung at the necks of the horses jingled. I noticed particularly that every steed had a housing of red leather.
When the horsemen had alighted and set themselves in a circle on the ground, we were ordered to approach, and the same series of questions by which we had already been so often tormented was put to us, and written down in the same way, and our answers written down in the same way, and compared with the former ones. After this we passed the night tranquilly, and next day began to march, accompanied by the Kamkolak Nasser. We advanced three days until we reached Abaly, a place where all strangers arriving in Wadaï are placed, as it were, for three days in quarantine, although there is no reason for doing so, in the fear of pestilence. We resigned ourselves to our fate, and prepared to pass our time as best we might; but shortly after sunset my uncle Zarouk, who had heard of my arrival, came and told me that my father had departed for Tunis, no longer expecting me to be able to escape from Darfur. My uncle had asked permission of the Sultan to withdraw me immediately from Abaly; and I accordingly loaded my camels, and went with him to a house that belonged to my father, and was situated at no great distance. A good night’s rest soon made me forget my fatigue. Next morning I remarked the red colour of the walls of the house, and remembered the sand-diviner, Ishak of Darfur, and his marvellous predictions. Zarouk prepared in my honour a repast of welcome, and invited guests, and the Sultan himself sent the materials of a veritable banquet. The messes were carried in twelve oblong wooden tubs, with chain handles, each carried by four slaves. This present was preceded by a young eunuch, according to the custom of the country on such occasions. I was told that this was meant as a compliment to my father, who had been a vizier of the Sultan. The tubs were full, some of rice cooked in honey; others of fowls fried in butter; others of young pigeons; others of cakes of delicious taste. We gave a share to the slave-porters, and ate ourselves, and fed our servants, and treated the guests and the neighbours, and yet there remained still a vast quantity of viands.
Next evening the Sultan sent seven more tubs, and an equal number the following day. On the third day Nasser and the first interpreter of the Sultan came to see us, and I gave to them my presents for his majesty. These presents were very humble; consisting, among other things, of ten pounds of yemen coffee, in the berry, ten pounds of soap, and two rings of latten, weighing each two pounds. My offerings, though of slight value, were accepted graciously, on account of the respect the prince bore my father; and on the evening of the same day a eunuch came from the Sultan, and presented me with a large parcel and two young female slaves, one still a virgin, but the other, who was not so, much handsomer and better dressed. I returned my thanks, and we recited the Fatha in honour of the Sultan. On the following morning another eunuch came, accompanied by several individuals and by laden camels, bringing fresh presents. These consisted of five jars of honey, ten jars of butter, two loads of wheat, a load of salt fish, a load of tekaki, or parcels of thread or cotton used as money, a grey horse, saddled and bridled, fed by a slave, seven spans high, and two women-slaves, as servants. We expressed our gratitude, and uttered sincere prayers for the Sultan. In the packet I have mentioned were found two garments of the finest tissue, one black and one white, each worth at least the price of two slaves, and a piece of English calico. Besides all these things, I received two bulls, ready for killing, and a young she-camel. From time to time other presents were sent me; among others, a couple hundreds of eggs of the speckled hen. In Wadaï these hens live wild, and lay in the spring, when the peasants collect immense quantities of eggs. It is customary every year for each canton to send to the Sultan at least a hundred camel-loads, which are generally distributed to the courtiers.
I had been four months in Wadaï without having seen, or been seen, by the Sultan. An accident caused my reception. According to the decrees of God, my hand was burnt by an explosion of gunpowder. The Sultan learned my misfortune, and was told I suffered dreadfully; so he sent me a jar of olive-oil, which had been preserved for more than sixty years, and had acquired a red tint and bitter taste. This oil was my salvation, for by it God cured me. I went to the mosque to pray, and was afterwards sent for to the palace by the Sultan, who received me with benevolence. He recommended me to pursue my studies, and advised me to put myself under the teaching of Sheikh Seid Ahmed, who was at that time giving lessons of civil and religious law at Warah. I did so for some time, and read several learned books; but a misunderstanding with the Sheikh caused me to abandon these studies and his society.
CHAPTER II.
People of Wadaï — Historical Facts — Sultan Seleih — How his Dynasty was founded — Abbaside descent — Boundary Mark in the Desert — Wars between Darfur and Wadaï — A wise Vizier — Youth of Saboun — His Schemes — How to win a Throne — A Sea of Blood — Fratricidal Battles — The Victor and the Vanquished — Ferocious Conduct — The Afrits or Robbers — A Brother still at large — He is taken and killed — Pacification of Wadaï.
The manners and customs of Wadaï have many points of resemblance with those of Darfur, but differ in some respects. The food of the people, the clothing of the women, and the ornaments used, are almost exactly the same in both countries; but there is a great difference in the government and the administration. The character of the people of Wadaï, too, is remarkable for liberality—a virtue not common in Darfur. I shall, however, before entering into detail on this subject, give some account of the origin of the reigning dynasty, for it is impossible to understand the manners of a country without knowing something of its history.
During my sojourn in Wadaï I noticed, that when I went on Friday to the mosque the Imâm invariably uttered this prayer,—“May God grant a victory everywhere to our Sultan Mohammed Abd-el-Kerim, son of the Sultan Mohammed Saleh, son of the Sultan Mohammed Gaudeh, son of the Sultan Seleih!” This suggested to me that I could ask some old men what was the origin of this Sultan Seleih. The answers given were various. Some said that he belonged to a tribe named Sennawides, after one of the mountains of the country.
But I afterwards observed, on the seal of the reigning Sultan, these words,—“The Sultan Mohammed, son of the Sultan Seleih, the Abbaside.” I sought to find out by what genealogical affiliation the name of that noble family could be mixed up with the history of these non-Arab peoples. But those whom I consulted gave me contradictory accounts, some saying that the reigning dynasty had no connexion with the Arabs, others affirming the contrary. A very sagacious person, the Aguid Ahmed, related to me, that when the Tartars had driven the Abbaside family from Bagdad, the kaliphate was removed to Egypt, and remained there until the Turks and the Mamlouks drove them out; that is to say, until the time of the Fatamites. The children of the Abbaside kaliphs, after the overthrow of their dynasty, were dispersed, and sought refuge in various countries. One of them went to Sennaar, and thence passed on to Wadaï, where he settled among the Pagan inhabitants of Mount Seloun. He fulfilled exactly the duties of his religion, praying, fasting, and performing the zikr and reciting the Koran. The people, whose friendship he had acquired, asked him why he did these things, and he answered, it was to do homage to God. “And what is God?” said they. “God is he who created the heavens and the earth, the night and the day, the sun, and the moon, and the stars, the trees and the rivers; his hand governs all these things.” The people of Seloun at length embraced Islamism, and Saleh, whom they called Seleih, after having well-instructed them, caused himself to be named the religious chief, and set about converting by arms, or other means, the neighbouring tribes. The four tribes first converted became, in some sort, the royal family of the country, from which the mothers of the Sultan must necessarily be derived. Such of the remaining peoples of Wadaï as accepted the new faith with readiness were declared to be free; whilst those who only yielded to force were reduced to slavery. In this way, according to this informant, was the dynasty of Seleih founded.
Other persons told me that the Sultans of Wadaï, Darfur, and Kordofal, were all descended from one father, who belonged to the Arab tribe called Fezarah; but as all these recitals are founded on mere oral traditions, God only knows the truth. For my part, I am inclined to believe the account which derives the great Seleih from the Abbasides, on account of the elevation of his character, the nobility of his mind, his piety, and his goodness. If he had preceded Hatim Tai by a day, Hatim would never have been chosen as the type of generosity in Arab poetry. How different is the paltry conduct and the poltroonery of the Forians from the valour and the easy hospitality of the Wadaïans! The differences of the qualities of the two nations are sufficient to prove the different origin of their Sultans; for a people is, in some sort, the creation of its governors. At any rate, one thing is certain, that the three states of Wadaï, Darfur, and Kordofal, are of recent establishment, not exceeding in age two hundred years.
An old man of Senoun once related to me that Salou Selman, sultan of Darfur, and Seleih, sultan of Wadaï, once met in the uninhabited space which separates the two countries, and there engaged, by oath, to live in peace one with the other. They measured the space between the cultivated land, and drew a line exactly in the centre, which they marked by very long and thick iron nails, driven into the trunks of the largest trees. They engaged reciprocally not to overpass this line with hostile intentions, and called God and man to witness what they promised. When I was travelling from Darfur to Wadaï, indeed, I saw in the midst of the forest, at the place where we met so great a number of rabbits and wild beasts, a line of trees, in each of which a bar of iron was stuck, advancing about a span. Each nail appeared to me about a cubit and a half long. The points did not stick out straight, but were beaten down, to prevent any accidental injuries to passers-by. The Fakih Ahmed told me at that time that this was the ancient boundary-mark of Wadaï and Darfur.
After the death of the two wise Sultans, their children, as is the custom with princes, began to cast covetous eyes on their neighbour’s property. He of Wadaï invaded Darfur, but was defeated with great loss, and under the next reign the Forians penetrated into Wadaï. The war that followed was most terrible, and in one of the battles the Forian Sultan himself was slain. The whole of this struggle reminds me of the war of Basous. The corpses of those who fell were devoured by birds of prey and by lions, or buried in huge pits.
One of the incidents related in connexion with this war is curious. The Sultan of Wadaï, Gaudeh, pretending to fly, had marched round in the rear of the Forian army, and interposed between them and their country. They believed, however, that he was utterly routed, and loudly expressed their joy. One vizier, however, remained silent, and on being asked by his master why he did not share in the general joy, replied that he did not believe in this easy victory, and offered to prove that the enemy’s army was even then marching towards them.
“How wilt thou do this?” said the Sultan.
“Bring me a she-camel,” replied the vizier, “with a man who knows how to milk.”
The camel was brought, and well washed, and the milk was drawn into a clean bowl, and placed, with a man to guard it, on the top of the Sultan’s tent. Next morning the vizier caused the bowl to be brought to him, and found the milk quite black. So he went to the Sultan and said,—
“Master, they are coming down upon us, and have marched all night.”
“How dost thou know that?”
“Look at this blackened milk.”
“In what way has it become black?”
“The dust raised by the feet of the horses has been carried hither by the wind.”
Some laughed at this explanation, but others believed, and looked out anxiously towards the west. In a short time, however, the manes of the hostile cavalry were seen shaking above the eastern horizon. Then followed the battle, in which the Forian Sultan was slain.
The grandson of the conqueror on this occasion was Mohammed Abd-el-Kerim, surnamed Saboun, who reigned at the time of my arrival. His father had two other sons, named Ahmed and Asyl, by another wife, who was his favourite, while the mother of Saboun and her child were treated with indifference. However, when Saboun grew up, his intelligence gave him great influence in the government, though his half-brothers enjoyed all the royal favour and care.
Saboun early created for himself numerous partisans, for he felt that he would have to dispute the throne by arms. Instead of wasting his time in sensual pleasures, he employed himself in study, in prayer, and, above all, in collecting arms, coats of mail, horses, and men. On one occasion he met some Magrebyn merchants armed with guns, and learned from them the use of them. From that day forward he bought all the fire-arms that came in his way, and made a large body of slaves study their use under the Magrebyn merchants.
These preparations alarmed the viziers, who went to Seleih, and represented to him that his son was making ready for an open revolt. He accordingly ordered Saboun to be brought before him, and one of the chiefs of the Turguenaks was sent to arrest him. These Turguenaks, who are also called Osban, are the instruments of the anger of the Sultan, and are always employed to effect important arrests. It happened that Saboun was sitting on his Tirgeh, a kind of platform, on a mound of earth, raised within the great enclosure of a palace. He descried the Turguenaks from afar off, and, collecting his people in time, prepared for resistance. It was, therefore, impossible to arrest him, and sufficient time was given for the anger of the Sultan to die away. He took counsel of his Ulemas, and other wise people, and the result was that Saboun’s innocence was made manifest, and he was suffered to live in quiet.
Some months after this event the Sultan fell seriously ill. His chief wife, who had borne no children, fearing that the throne would fall to Ahmed or Asyl, who had not the high qualities of Saboun, and who would certainly have deprived her of her title of queen, or, perhaps, put her to death, sent a secret messenger to the heir, announcing that his father was ill. He immediately collected his partisans in the villages in the neighbourhood of Warah, which word corresponds to the Fasher of the Forians, and waited for the event. When the Sultan died, the queen despatched a messenger to Saboun, telling him, that unless he acted that very night all would be lost, and that he must appear before the gates of the palace two hours after sunset. The sagacious prince collected his force accordingly, and appeared at the appointed time at the Warah. The great difficulty was to force the Iron Gate, which is the fourth of the seven gates. But, by a stratagem, the Fakih Mousa had obtained admission, and was ready to open. The guards were asleep. Saboun, with a few of his friends, advanced with naked feet on tip-toe until he reached the fourth gate; his signal was understood, and Mousa, who had won the confidence of the porter, and had taken the key, immediately went and opened.
“For whom dost thou undo the gate at night?” said the porter.
Mousa did not reply, and Saboun passed silently with his troop. The Fakih then seized a lance which belonged to the porter, who was half asleep, and said to him,—
“Dost thou know for whom I have opened the door?”
“No.”
“For thy master—the master of thy mother and thy father.”
So saying, Mousa stabbed the porter, and then, falling upon the guard, struck right and left, and killed fifteen of them. Saboun had collected a considerable force without, and about five hundred men entered after him and joined Mousa in the carnage. The people of the palace, on waking up, met with lance-thrusts hotter than burning coals. Some defended themselves desperately to the death, whilst others submitted. By the blessing of God some huts took fire, so that the Prince Saboun was enabled easily to recognise his enemies and make a horrible massacre of them. The guards of the palace came running forth to escape from the flames, and a great number were put to the sword. Without this conflagration to light up the carnage, Saboun might have been struck by a traitor-hand and have perished.
When the prince, by these means, saw that he was master of the palace, and delivered from all danger, he entered the chamber where were laid out the remains of his father. The corpse was decorated and adorned, and surrounded with the women of the harem. Saboun shed some tears, and said, “May God set to my account in heaven the misfortune that has befallen me—the death of my father!” Having made this pious observation,[27] he demanded the insignia of the Sultanship, that is to say, the imperial seal—a heirloom transmitted from sovereign to sovereign—the imperial sabre, the amulet, and the throne or seat of the Sultan. Very shortly all these objects were brought, except the seat, which the women, being hostile to the turn things had taken, would not at first give up. However, by threats and promises, Saboun succeeded in obtaining this precious article.
Meanwhile the combat continued without, and grew hotter and hotter. The Turguenaks, by this time being wide awake, attacked the soldiers of Saboun, who fell upon them with fury. The viziers of the opposite party came up, but were repulsed. The fight lasted the whole night, when the people of Saboun, having the upper hand, were joined by the vacillating, and tranquillity was at length restored.
The Princes Ahmed and Asyl, who had been journeying through the provinces, wantonly oppressing the people, came up next day at the head of an army, but were defeated and put to flight. Saboun thereupon gave thanks to God for his victory, and, appearing in the divan, caused himself to be recognised as chief of the state. He distributed all the important offices to his relations, and the whole of Wadaï submitted to him, partly from affection and partly from fear.[28] The rout of Ahmed and his partisans stifled the expression of malevolence. The number of the dead was considerable, and blood had flowed in abundance. A poet has well said, “Men of great power cannot escape from danger unless they surround themselves with an ocean of blood.”
This event happened towards the middle of the month of Rejeb, I believe, 1219 of the Hegira (A.D. 1804). Saboun remained in peace for nearly two months, after which he marched against his brother Ahmed, who, having escaped from the carnage of Warah, had succeeded in collecting a respectable army. The Sultan feared that, if he did not act with vigour, many tribes might revolt, and thus produce great disasters. He accordingly marched a whole night and a whole day without pausing, and came in presence of his brother’s army. The partisans of Ahmed had spread the report that Saleh was not dead, and that Saboun must be considered to be in a state of revolt against him. The wise Sultan, before beginning hostilities, sent a messenger to the hostile viziers, challenging them to produce the old king, and offering, if they did so, to fall at his feet. The only answer made consisted of violent words; upon which Saboun performed his ablutions, uttered his prayers, and, in presence of his army, demanded of God to assist him in triumphing over his enemies.
The battle began. In the twinkling of an eye, swifter than the flight of the falcon on its prey, swifter than lightning, Saboun rushed upon his enemies, who were at once thrown into disorder, and took to flight. A proclamation was at once issued, offering a generous reward to whoever should bring him his brother prisoner. In consequence, Ahmed was brought in before the setting of the sun, overwhelmed with shame and despair. By order of Saboun, he and all his relations were laden with irons, and thus attended the victorious prince returned to Warah, where he passed a comfortable night, rejoicing in his success.
Next morning the tambourines were beaten, and the troops were assembled. The crowd gathered together and filled the court in front of the palace. The Sultan appeared; the standards were waving around him; over his head spread the parasol; and the great fans of ostrich feathers gently stirred the air. Every emir took his place; every functionary of the state occupied the position reserved for him. The interpreters unfolded their line, and the Osban stood around, clothed in the insignia of vengeance and of terror. The Sultan ordered Ahmed, and all those who had taken part with him, to be brought forth. These wretched men advanced in the most pitiable plight, with short, stumbling steps, for they had irons on their hands and their feet. When they were set out in order Saboun addressed his brother, and said to him:—
“Debauched scoundrel that thou art, traitor, libertine, impostor, adulterer, oppressor, contemptible tyrant, brutal despot! dost thou think that a being such as thou art is capable of acting as sovereign chief and councillor, of governing men, and dispensing justice? No! insensate was thy presumption; detestable were thy thoughts. Thou capable of guiding the servants of the sovereign of worlds! thou art not even fit to keep sheep.” He then proceeded to accuse his brother of various acts of tyranny, of dishonouring modest women, and of spilling blood, of overpassing the bounds set by God, of trampling on all that was sacred, and concluded by challenging him to disprove these charges.
Ahmed, with a bold, firm, and resolute voice, replied,—“Hold thy peace! May God split thy mouth and confound thee, coward, rebel to thy father, excommunicated from the pity of God! Certainly chance has made a sad mistake in giving sovereign power to thee; but the mistake will be repaired, let us hope. Dost thou think that I fear the savage treatment thou art preparing for me? Do I not know that the utmost of thy power is to say, ‘Let him be killed?’ Go; to die is better than to be in the presence of a being so vile as thou art.” The Sultan then addressed the Ulemas and the doctors of the law, and said to them: “What is the judgment which the code of Islam pronounces against this rebel?” They answered that he must be put to death, or have a hand and a foot cut off. The text of the words of God is as follows:—“He who revolts against the Creator and his representative, and shall spread disorder and rebellion in a country, shall die a violent death, shall be hanged, or shall have a hand and a foot cut off, or shall be exiled.”[29]
Upon this the Sultan ordered the Mirwed, or iron tongs, to be heated, and applied to the eyes of his brother Ahmed, who, being thus blinded, was thrown into a prison, where he remained to the end of his life.
In the same sitting Saboun pronounced judgment on the captive viziers, ordering them to be put to death by the kabartou, or executioners. These kabartou accordingly surrounded the unhappy men, and felled them with iron clubs. The viziers contended who should meet death in the bravest manner, and vied who should first present his head. They feared to dishonour themselves by the slightest act of timidity; for in Wadaï there is nothing so contemptible as cowardice.
Having in this way got rid of the viziers who were related to Ahmed, and having nothing to fear from their party, Saboun reigned with justice and equity, and attracted the admiration of his neighbours. Crowds came to contemplate him in his glory, just as of old Pagan races used to throng the temples to behold some great idol.[30]
One of Saboun’s first cares was to destroy the terrible robbers called Afrits, or devils. He thus ensured the safety of the roads, so that during his reign a solitary woman, even covered with gold, might venture into solitary places and have nothing to fear, except from the Most High. But whilst the Sultan gave tranquillity to others he remained himself disquieted. The thought that his brother Asyl was abroad prevented him from taking rest, and embittered all his pleasures. He waited impatiently until God should give him an opportunity of freeing himself from fear. That nothing on his part, however, might be wanting to effect this desirable result, he invented a stratagem by which he decoyed Asyl from Darfur, where he had taken refuge, and, having got him into his power, addressed him in the same terms which he had used towards Ahmed, and then ordered him to be put to death. Thus God delivered Wadaï. That was a day of rejoicing such as the country had never seen.[31]
CHAPTER III.
The Sultan of Bagirmeh — A Court of Birds of Prey — Saboun determines to make a War — March over the Desert — Encounter with a Rhinoceros — Punishment of Cowardice — Veneration for Sultans — A White Beard — The Crown purifies — Sultan Arous — Anecdote — Attack on the Birny of Bagirmeh — Victory — Act of Cruelty — A Bedawin Traveller — A new Route to the Mediterranean — Schmed-el-Fari — The Sheikh’s Father at Fezzan — Caravans — Want of Water — Price in the Desert — An obdurate Sheikh — Death of Saboun.
When Sultan Saboun had fixed himself firmly on the throne he repressed all evil actions, and did all the good he could. I shall notice how he punished the culpable conduct of Haj-Ahmed, sultan of Bagirmeh. This prince had excessively tyrannised over his subjects, so that at length the Ulemas were excited to present themselves before him and utter the complaints of the nation. He received them graciously, and asked what was their business. An old man replied, that they came to beg him to cause his servants to cease from their excesses, and told a parable of a great tree which grew in the midst of a field, and harboured birds of prey that devoured the harvest. “Thy subjects,” he said, “are the harvest, thou art the great tree, and thy officers the birds of prey. We fear lest the tree be cut down; for the master of the harvest is God, who hateth tyranny.” The good old man farther quoted some wise saws and some verses from the poets, and also the words of the Prophet, to the effect that an hour of justice is worth seventy years of prayer.
When the sermon was concluded the Sultan burst out laughing, and said, “Do you think that my birds, as you call them, can live without eating or drinking? I tell you what. My subjects are my subjects, my soldiers are my soldiers, and what they do is no business of yours. It is your duty to teach law and religion to those who are in want of these things. If it were not for your sacred character I would put you all to death.” Then Ahmed called his emirs, and said to one of them, “Thou art a hawk;” to another, “Thou art a falcon;” to another, “Thou art a kite;” to another, “Thou art a vulture.” In this way he applied to each of them the name of a bird of prey in presence of the Ulemas, who were stupified by this decision. They went away lamenting the perversity of the Sultan, and the only result of their step was an increase of oppression and iniquity. The people revolted in several places, but were put down with fire and sword. The Ulemas again presented themselves, and quoted a long list of sentences from the Koran; but with as little success as before.
The Sultan of Bagirmeh, not content with these excesses, became enamoured of his sister, who was married to one of his viziers. He caused her to be divorced, and took her to wife, in spite of the opposition of the priests and the disgust of his people. Still greater turpitudes were imputed to him.
About this time Ahmed authorised one of his great viziers to make a wanton incursion on the territories of Wadaï, for the sake of collecting booty. This incursion being reported to Saboun, induced him to write a letter of remonstrance to Ahmed, which remained without any answer, except that a fresh attack was made. Saboun wrote once more, and received at length a despatch containing these words: “We received thy first letter, and afterwards thy second, and we understood their contents. Salutations.” This derisive answer induced Saboun to determine to make war upon Bagirmeh. He consulted my father, who gave it as his opinion that war under such circumstances would be justifiable. The preparations were made with the greatest secrecy, and Saboun left Warah, under pretence of making an excursion through his provinces. Some of the great men made opposition to this expedition, thus suddenly planned; but a well-timed severity repressed discontent, and a considerable army was rapidly collected on the confines of Wadaï.
When everything was ready, the Sultan gave orders to commence the march through the wilderness that separates the boundaries of Wadaï and Bagirmeh. It is covered with lofty trees and vast expanses of shrubs. In these savannahs are the repairs of lions and elephants, and of the abou-kern, or unicorn, called in Egypt khartit, that is to say, rhinoceros.[32] Saboun had sent people ahead to cut down trees, and open for his troops a practicable road. Six Aguids, each with four thousand slaves, formed the body of pioneers, which preceded the main army by at least an hour. These slaves were armed with hatchets, to cut down the trees and clear the way. Whilst they were breaking through a thickset wood an enormous abou-kern suddenly rushed upon the workmen, killed several whom he first met, and then broke through the mass, slaying people right and left. Every one fled, and the whole body of pioneers fell back upon the army, which, soon being seized with a panic, took flight in all directions. The Sultan soon found himself almost alone, and beheld the abou-kern coming straight towards him. “What!” cried he, “is there no one here that has the courage to fight this ignoble animal?” Now it happened that there was a slave, named Ajmain, tall, well-built, and vigorous, armed with buckler and javelins. He threw aside his javelins, and stepped towards the animal with his shield and a long knife. The Sultan looked on with anxiety. Ajmain waited until the beast was near him, and then suddenly fell and allowed it to pass over him. With a dexterous stroke of his knife, however, he succeeded in ham-stringing the abou-kern, which rolled upon the ground. He then fetched his javelin, and before the soldiers could come up he had rendered their assistance unnecessary. Saboun ordered the corpse to be dragged to an open place, and then calling together his men, pronounced an angry speech against those who had been most distinguished by cowardice. He ordered several of them to be seized and executed on the spot. Among these was the governor of the Jeataneh Arabs, in whose place he named the slave Ajmain. After this bloody scene, Saboun said to his viziers and officers: “Whoever of you flies at the time of combat, whatever may be the danger, shall be put to death.” All humbly promised obedience. During the whole war, indeed, the effect of these words was manifest; for in the eyes of the Wadaïans obedience to the Sultan is a duty as sacred as obedience to God and the Prophet. Indeed these people often neglect their duties of piety, but never that which they think they owe to the Sultan.
I shall relate an anecdote of the extreme veneration in which the Sultan is held. It happened under the reign of Gaudeh. The wife of one of his officers saw the sovereign pass, surrounded by his courtiers, and in imperial dress. Age had whitened the beard of the prince. In the evening, having returned home, the woman relating to her husband what she had seen, said: “The procession was fine, the Sultan was fine: what a pity it is that his beard is growing white on both sides of his face! May God prolong the days of our master!”
Suddenly the husband fell upon his wife with violent blows, saying:—“Ah! dost thou say that the beard on both sides of our Sultan’s face is beginning to whiten? If any one heard thee, respect for him would be gone. People would say that he is no longer fit to go into battle.”
Having well beat her, he bound her, and left her in that spot till the morning, when he presented himself before the Sultan, and having related the adventure, added:—“I have left her there, accursed woman that she is, bound hand and foot! Now, prince, order what I shall do with her.”
The Sultan praised the officer for his good intentions, and presented him with a garment; but he recommended him to forgive his wife this one time, on condition that she should behave better for the future.
The veneration of the Wadaïans is encouraged by the Sultan, who loves to be addressed with hyperbolical phrases and with extravagant testimonies of respect. The people are persuaded that whoever is raised to be Sultan of Wadaï immediately is illuminated by God, becomes wise, is clothed with sanctity, even though before his elevation he has given no sign of these things, and has lived in debauchery and vice. The crown and sceptre are supposed to purify. This belief is said to have arisen in the time of the Sultan Arous, who had forbidden his name to be pronounced by any person, either in his presence or out of it. In order to find out whether any one infringed his order, he sent forth spies on all sides—old women, children, youths—who were ordered to denounce all delinquents. One day an officer of the police, made uneasy by this strange order, went up to the top of a mountain where was a cavern, into which he penetrated, and said in a low voice:—“The Sultan Arous! the Sultan Arous! the Sultan Arous!” He believed it impossible that he should be overheard by any one; but, by a singular fatality, one of the spies had followed him unseen, and overheard his words. Next day, accordingly, the officer was called before Arous, who said to him,—
“Have I not forbidden thee, as well as others, to pronounce my name?”
“It is true.”
“And wherefore hast thou done so?”
“Prince, I have not disobeyed.”
“Wilt thou swear to me that thou hast not done so?”
“I swear it.”
“Liar! thou didst go yesterday upon the mountain, and entered a cavern and pronounced my name three times.”
Upon this the officer was forced to admit the truth, and all present united in proclaiming that the Sultan was a seer.
When Saboun had crossed the frontiers of Bagirmeh, he took the necessary steps to prevent the people from suffering much from the invasion. Whenever he approached a village, he sent for the Ulemas and principal personages, and spoke to them with benevolence, and gave them presents. At all holy places he gave alms. He also prevented his soldiers from acting violently against the peasants. Thus most people prayed that victory should be awarded him. He traversed the country without opposition, and soon arrived near the Birny, or capital. A first battle was gained by the intrepidity of Ajmain and other generals, and the city and the palace were soon taken. The conflict, however, was desperate, and the spectacle of the frightful carnage that took place was sufficient to whiten the hair on the head of an infant. The city was sacked, in spite of the orders of Saboun. An immense booty was obtained; among other things, a large chamber was found filled with leathern sacks full of silver dollars. The soldiers of Wadaï did not know the value of this money, and changed away whole handfuls for a pound of tobacco. The number of slaves taken was so great that the price of them fell almost to nothing.
The Sultan Ahmed fell in this assault, but it was some time before his body was found. Saboun was principally anxious on this account, and calm did not enter his heart until the corpse of an old meagre man was dragged forth and recognised by the women. In the meanwhile, the Fecha[33] of Bagirmeh was infesting the roads towards Bornou, and Saboun was obliged to send a body of troops against him. He retired to Logou, the capital of Katakau. After this my father asked permission of Saboun to go to Bornou, and, obtaining it, departed with his wife, who was a sister of the Sultan, and his slaves. He was soon attacked by the soldiers of the Fecha, and robbed of all he possessed. But the Sultan of Logou, fearing to be invaded by Saboun, caused everything to be restored to him.
Saboun now prepared to return to Wadaï. At the commencement of his march, it must be noticed, an officer had endeavoured to persuade him not to go to Bagirmeh, predicting defeat. The Sultan had ordered this man to be tied to a tree, with his legs round the trunk, and had set guards over him to give him to eat and drink, until the return of the army. On reaching the spot again, Saboun passed the night there, and in the morning ordered the officer to be untied and brought before him. “Know,” said he, “that God has proved thy prophecies to be fallacious, and has given me the victory over mine enemies.” Then he ordered the wretched man to be executed, and returned to his country.
Before leaving Bagirmeh, Saboun had placed upon the throne one of the younger sons of the former Sultan. But the Wadaïan army had no sooner departed than Chigama, the eldest son, who had fled, came back with the Fecha and dethroned the young prince, and, throwing him into prison, caused him to be starved to death. This led to a new war. Ajmain was sent once more to reduce the country. Chigama was made prisoner; but at last was made Sultan by Saboun himself, and reigned successfully.
Some time afterwards Saboun undertook an expedition against Dar-Tamah. His army was at first repulsed; but on a second attack the mountain was taken, and the whole of the population put to the sword. My father, with a little troop consisting of twenty-two Magrebyns, armed with guns, was of great use in this action. The Sultan of Darfur was angry at this aggression; but took no effectual means to protect his vassal of Tamah, who finally agreed to pay tribute to Wadaï. Having finished his wars, Saboun busied himself with the internal affairs of his country, and did all he could to make them prosper. One day there was presented to him a Magrebyn, belonging to the Bedawins dependent on the regency of Tripoli; he was accompanied by several members of the tribe of Bidegat, a non-Arab tribe established to the north of Wadaï, who related that this Bedawin had lost his way in the sands, and had been found by them dying of thirst. They had given him water to drink, and having kept and fed him for a month, had brought him to Warah to present him to the Sultan.
Saboun said to the strange Bedawin, “From whence dost thou come?”
“I belong,” he replied, “to the Wallad-Ali, a tribe neighbouring to Barca. We started about fifty Arab horsemen in the direction of Soudan, hoping to make a profitable excursion. We lost our road, and at length our supply of water was exhausted. Three of us, of which I was one, went out in search of a well. I missed my two companions, and wandered I knew not whither. At length my horse broke down, and I abandoned it and proceeded on foot during three whole days. On the fourth the heat overcame me; I was dying of thirst; and if God had not sent me these men I should have perished.”
“How many days didst thou remain without tasting water?” inquired the Sultan.
“Six days without a single drop.”
These words astonished the audience, and some believed, whilst others disbelieved.
It was about this time that I came to Wadaï, for the Sultan of Darfur had delivered me from my prison, and I often saw this Bedawin, who was named Ali. He related to me his adventures, without contradicting himself once. Saboun made him many presents, and placed under his orders ten slaves, that they might learn the use of fire-arms. But Ali used often to say,—“If the Sultan, instead of making me teach his slaves how to shoot, would confide to me a caravan, and allow me to return to my tribe by the direct road, a great advantage would result to the king and to the country.”
These words were reported to the Sultan, who called Ali before him, and asked if it were true that he had spoken of a caravan road. He replied that it was, but that he feared to go by it because of the robbers he might meet at the outset of the journey. The Sultan then sent for the Chief of Bidegat, and said to him: “Prepare a caravan with the necessary men and provisions, and go with this Bedawin until he says, ‘I know the place where we are,’ and proves the truth of his words.”
The chief Bidegat accordingly departed with Ali and about twenty men on camel-back, and penetrating into the desert, made forced marches for fifteen days. At length Ali cried out, “Good news! there are the palm-trees of Jalou.”
“And how dost thou know that this is Jalou?”
“In this way. During our expedition we halted at this place, and passed the night there, tying our horses in one direction, and making a fire in another.”
Ali pointed out these two spots, and convinced the Bidegat that what he said was true. They returned, therefore, to the Sultan Saboun, and related the result of their journey. He asked them to what distance they had penetrated, and they said, “To reach the place where we halted would require, with camels and slaves, forty days, but in a forced march it might be done in twenty-five.”
The Sultan ordered a caravan to be prepared immediately, and caused it to be proclaimed at Hejeir and at Noumro, that whoever desired to undertake a commercial expedition to the Magreb, as far as Derna and Bengazi, should prepare to start with the caravan. He put the expedition under the charge of the Bidegat as far as Jalou, and Ali guided it during the rest of the journey. It arrived safely at its destination and returned. Next year Saboun despatched a second caravan, under the command of the Shereef Ahmed-el-Fasi, that is to say, of Fas or Fez, who had succeeded my father in the functions of Vizier. This Ahmed was remarkable for his instruction, his memory, and his literary erudition; he was a profound jurisconsult, and versed in the sacred traditions; he had some knowledge of anatomy, and even gave lectures on that science. I was present at one of his demonstrations on the construction of the eye, and he acquitted himself in a remarkable manner. God had endowed him with wonderful talents, but he was irascible, and disposed to hate. In the end he alienated all people from him, and became so odious that he was assassinated.
From time immemorial the caravans of Wadaï had been accustomed to proceed to Fezzan with slaves, and to bring back various kinds of merchandise. But Saboun was delighted when the Bidegat had opened a new route to the Magreb. The fact was, that he was angry with El-Mountaser, sultan of Fezzan, because when my father went to Tripoli with merchandise on account of Saboun, El-Mountaser wished to put him to death. Had it not been for the great distance that separates Wadaï from Fezzan, and the arid and waterless deserts which it would have been necessary to traverse, Saboun would have declared war against Mountaser. This is the reason that he was delighted at the discovery of the road of Jalou, by which he could send his caravans direct to Barbary.
I shall relate in a few words the circumstances that indisposed El-Mountaser against my father. When he had resolved to quit Wadaï, and go to Tunis, he spoke of his project to Saboun, and begged him to allow him to depart. Upon this the Sultan asked my father,—
“After Fezzan, what country comes?”
“The regency of Tripoli.”
“The price of slaves, then, must be higher there than in Fezzan, and merchandise must be cheaper?”
“Doubtless.”
“Shall I send with thee one of my faithful servants, a man who is devoted to me, and who will take with him slaves, whom thou shalt sell at Tripoli on my account? From the price of the sale thou shalt buy for me such and such merchandise.”
“Willingly, prince.”
Then the Sultan chose one of his faithful servants, and confided to him about three hundred slaves, enjoining him to obey my father in all things. The caravan arrived safely at Fezzan, Mountaser hailed its arrival with joy, for the greatest part of his revenue was derived from taxes upon trade. The merchants who accompanied my father sold their slaves at the capital, Mourzouk; but the agent of Saboun refused to sell. Mountaser being informed of this circumstance, called my father before him and said,—
“It is thou who hast determined Saboun to send slaves to Tripoli, instead of having them sold here.”
“It was not I who counselled Saboun. He learned that slaves were dearer at Tripoli than Mourzouk, and therefore chose that market.”
“This is not the custom of Saboun,” replied Mountaser; “and the counsel comes from thee.”
These words were pronounced with anger, and my father feared that he would be arrested and put to death; but he was let off, after giving a present of six of his finest slaves, and arrived safely at Tripoli. This extortion, however, irritated the Pacha of that regency so much, that he swore to destroy Mountaser, who accordingly was soon violently dispossessed, and replaced by Mohammed El-Moknee.[34]
To return to Saboun. When the road of Aujilah was discovered, he habitually sent his caravans by that route. In other cases he despatched them by way of Egypt, and thence to Jalou, and thence to Bengazi; for, by the way of Egypt, the road to Bengazi is shorter than by the way of Tripoli. Saboun learned that his caravans easily traversed Egypt, and that that country was governed by a just and renowned prince. He accordingly sent letters and presents to the Pacha, asking for his friendship; and Ibrahim, son of the Viceroy, returned presents and a favourable answer, borne by two persons of his suite and a Kawas. The Zaghawy of Darfur learned that the Egyptian caravan was to pass near them, and that it was not in strength sufficient to defend itself. They accordingly attacked and pillaged it, but the Kawas escaped and carried the letter to Saboun, who received him well and sent him back with presents, under escort of a caravan. But the Zaghawy again attacked and destroyed, or made prisoners, the whole. It was this that led to the conquest of Kordofal by the Egyptians.
The Sultan Saboun, who had also sent an expedition to chastise the Zaghawy, now fitted out an immense caravan for the Magreb. The Shereef Ahmed El-Fasi went with it, bearing considerable riches. It was ordered to take the route by way of Aujalou, and was protected in the early part of its course by a strong escort. Then it entered the desert, and wandered from the track. The supply of water was rapidly spent, and it became so rare, that a single draught was sold for seventy dollars (14l.). Many camels were killed, and the water within them was also sold at a high price—at least so I am assured by the Marabout Omar of Mesratta, and other of the travellers. Many slaves and members of the caravan died of thirst.
The Shereef El-Fasi had an abundant supply of water. His companions asked him for some to save them from perishing, but he refused. “I am,” said he, “the head of a numerous family; this water is my salvation and theirs. I have young children, and must preserve myself for them. If they die by my fault, I shall have to answer for it at the day of judgment. I will not be the artisan of their misfortune.”—“Sell us water,” cried they, “at any price you may name. We will give the acknowledgment, and pay exactly on our arrival.” The Shereef remained inflexible.
But the sufferings of thirst became more and more intense. The caravan saw that there was another means of salvation. They came in great crowds to the Shereef, and said to him,—“Thou must at once give us water, or we will take it by force. It is not just, even in the eyes of God, that thou shouldst have an abundant supply whilst we are dying of thirst.” The Shereef persisted in his refusal, so they burst into his tents, and distributed his water equally, leaving him only his exact share. His numerous slaves, therefore, soon began to suffer from thirst, and the greater part perished. The Shereef himself, however, with his children and three camels, contrived to push on to Jalou, and escape. From this place he, and the rest of the caravan, returned with hired camels to where they had been obliged to abandon their wealth, their bales of gum, their elephants’ teeth, and their ostrich feathers. The whole was transported to Bengazi and sold. But the Shereef Ahmed obtained an opinion from the Ulemas of Tripoli, that the caravan was responsible for all his losses. When he returned, therefore, to Wadaï with this opinion, and was restored to the viziership, he persecuted all his travelling companions, and cast them into prison and spoiled them, so that he obtained many times the value of what he had lost. For this conduct, however, he was punished after the death of Saboun; for the people, irritated by his tyranny, rose against him at Noumro, and killed him, and burnt his body, and cast the ashes to the wind.
It was from the Grand Kadi of Wadaï, who passed through Cairo in the year 1257 (A.D. 1841), that I got information about the death of Saboun, and the events which followed. It appears that the Sultan went out after dark, incognito, on a visit to his mother, who lived in a village about a quarter of an hour from Warah. He remained some hours, and returned on horseback. As he advanced, he saw two robbers driving away a cow, and riding upon them, frightened them away. He told two slaves who were with him to seize the animal, and went in pursuit of the thieves, who separated, one flying to the right and the other to the left. Saboun followed closely at the heels of one of them, who, finding he could not escape, turned fiercely round, and exclaimed,—“What wouldst thou with me? I have abandoned my prey.”—“I want to seize thee.”—“Take my advice, and go back.” Saboun paid no attention to these words, and rushed upon the robber, who cast a javelin at him, and inflicted a mortal wound. The slaves led him back to the palace, where he died in three days.
After him reigned first his son, named Abd-el-Kader, and then another son, named Kharifein, who so provoked the people by his tyranny, that he was murdered. To him succeeded his young son, named Rechib, chosen by the conspirators. But he soon died of the small-pox, and, being buried secretly, was replaced by a boy, who was instructed how to play his part. After another short reign, a younger brother of Saboun, with the assistance of a Darfur army, succeeded in placing himself on the throne of Wadaï, where he now reigns. A quarrel which arose with his allies was the cause that the pilgrim caravan of Wadaï, instead of passing through Darfur as usual, went by way of Aujalou to Egypt. But let us here check our pen, which hurries too far and fast over these historical events. Lengthy details engender weariness; God and the Prophet know what has been and what shall be.
CHAPTER IV.
Beauty of Wadaï — Compliments to its Fertility — Comparison with Darfur — The two Capitals — Contracted Characters of Fadhl and Saboun — Inhabitants of Wadaï — Beautiful Women of the Koukah — The Goran — White and Black Women — Government of Wadaï — Language — Recent Civilisation of Wadaï — Punishment of Adultery — A Bornouese Army — Love of Peace — The Fasher of Warah — The Osban Guard — Gates of the Palace — The Town.
The sovereigns and the peoples of Soudan look upon the establishment of the kingdom of the descendants of Seleih, or, in other words, the kingdom of Wadaï, as a most wonderful and memorable event. Their country, indeed, seems to be a rose amidst other flowers—a large garden in which streams wander, so bountiful has Providence been to it of its blessings. On all sides pure and limpid waters of argentine transparency, and gardens filled with brilliant flowers, are to be seen. On the banks of the rivulets the arrak weaves its branches into thick hedges, where the nightingale trills its song, rejoicing the heart and charming the soul.
Wadaï is broader than Darfur, but not so long. Its territory is much more generous. There is the same difference between them as between to-day and yesterday, between the sun and the moon, between a garden and a desert, between paradise and the great fire. There are, it is true, some few places in Darfur the soil of which something resembles that of Wadaï, but the greater part of the former country is sandy, and almost deprived of water. The Forians, therefore, who inhabit these deserts are puny, thin, and have a yellow tint in their complexion; they are, so to speak, always thirsty, and are compelled to portion out water as if they were in a ship that has lost its reckoning at sea. But in Wadaï, nearly everywhere there are springs of living water; nearly everywhere there are leafy trees filled with the songs of birds. From the province of Saba on the east, to the river which forms the extreme boundary of the kingdom on the west, there is no place where it is necessary to take in a supply of water. At each village, during the twenty-two days which the Traject requires, there are wells, and streams, and trees, and fields. The country is nearly everywhere thickly peopled; and one village gives more profit than ten villages of the neighbouring country. Compared to Wadaï, Darfur may be said to be ruined. The same distance separates them as separates the Pleiades from the earth. Whoever would depreciate Wadaï would act like the legitimate wives of a harem, who look upon a beautiful concubine just introduced, and exclaim in their jealousy and bitter hatred,—“How ugly she is!”
The people of Wadaï, although less civilised than the Forians, are of a more generous nature and a more hospitable character. All the princes of Soudan admit that the administration of no country is so well organised. The capital, Warah, is wonderfully situated and laid out; it is shut in by mountains, so well disposed that there are only two approaches, one of which could be defended by ten men and the other by two. The soil of its territory is excellent, neither too hard nor too sandy, whilst that around Tendelty reminds one of the plains of Arabia, the foot of the traveller sinking in, whilst dusty whirlwinds constantly arise. At Warah the dwellings are better constructed than at Tendelty. At the latter place both enclosures and houses are made of millet-stalks, except that the Sultan has two little brick warehouses where his most precious garments and weapons are kept, to preserve them from fire. But at Warah most houses, with their enclosures, are of masonry, and the palace of the Sultan is composed of a number of pavilions with solid walls, and bow-windows with trellis-work. A kind of rampart, instead of a hedge of thorns, surrounds it, as the halo surrounds the moon.
In Darfur there are no lands that are worth those of Wadaï, except in the western provinces. But all the districts of the latter country are rich and fertile, and well-peopled. In Darfur most of the villages are nearly devastated by the violence and tyranny of the governors. The few places that are well inhabited are those whose chiefs have sufficient power to excite fear. Beyond, all is desolation. The sufferings of the people, when I was there, were extreme. Mohammed Fadhl was yet young; he passed his time in pleasure, in riding, in drinking, and with women. His governors overwhelmed the people; every one feared to possess wealth; there were no longer any ranks or classes; the lowest kind of people were promoted to the greatest honours, slaves became viziers, the most respectable and revered men became humiliated.
Meanwhile the affairs of Wadaï prospered under the hand of Sultan Mohammed Abd-el-Kerim Saboun. His justice and beneficence spread over all; under his reign no one had to complain of injustice or misery. He gave the bow to the bowman, the house to the mason, to every one his place and his duty. He maintained Divine law in honour. His equity penetrated to the most distant part of the kingdom. He was loved by all, except by the wicked, whose hearts were sick and whose souls were tainted and jealous. Wherefore did destiny transform these joys into grief and sorrow? As a dog seizes on its prey, it seized upon this prince in the full vigour of youth. Too soon was the cup of misfortune poured out for those who loved him. Everywhere had his arms triumphed. Everywhere he drenched his enemies in the bitterness of death and desolation. He subjected Bagirmeh, the dwelling of disorder and crime. He ruined Tamah, the den of vice and irreligion. He shook the joints of the Forians and their Sultan by the terror of his arms, and they feared that the time of their expulsion was come. Saboun died in the year 1226 (A.D. 1811), after reigning only eight years, having done more than other princes could have done in eighty. He lived too little for his country. If his life had been prolonged, he would have seized on Darfur and other provinces of Soudan, and have brought back to those countries the beautiful age of the youth of the universe. The days of his reign were days of smiling festival; his anger was directed against evil, and he had no joy but in goodness. Never did his subjects desire any other master than he.[35]
Let us now speak of the various inhabitants of Wadaï. The great tribes of Dar-Seleih are the Massalit, the Mimeh, the Dajo, the Kashmereh, and the Goran, or five primitive tribes; then come the Koukah, the Jenakherah, and the Birguid. Each of these people inhabits a particular country. The Massalit occupy the eastern province, and have relations of interest, family, and origin, with the Massalit of Darfur. They are of middle height and dark bronze colour, and thickly cover a large plain country.
The Wadaïans, properly so called, or primitive inhabitants of Wadaï, occupy more especially the central portion of the kingdom. It is amongst them that are chosen the viziers and the especial troops of the Sultan. The country they inhabit is hilly, and there is found Mount Absenoun. The people of this mountain consider themselves as the original source of the Wadaïans, all of whom, they say, are issued from them. Some leagues north of Senoun is Mount Melangan. The Senawans are of a dark black colour, of elevated stature, and strongly built, reminding one of the redoubtable Amalekites. The Melangans are less dark, and have something of a bronze tint.
The Kashmereh are established at four days’ distance from Warah to the south, in the Botagha, a charming, well-watered valley, where they sow a great quantity of vegetables and plants which serve as condiments, such as pepper, coriander, garlic, and onions. The tribe has its dwellings on the northern side of the valley, and is spread over a surface of four days in length and of only four hours in width. The villages are small, and extend along the crest of the hill like the pearls of the necklace of a houri. Sultan Saboun had given to my father the administration and the revenue of five of these Kashmereh villages, which certainly were more profitable than fifty Forian ones. All their stations are well peopled and full of life. From the smallest of them, if the trumpet of war were sounded, at least five hundred vigorous men would issue. I am persuaded that this tribe alone would furnish an imposing army. They are, moreover, submissive, and more easy to lead than the other Wadaïans. They live in plenty, and their families have numerous children. Their nature is simple and docile, without meanness. They are of middle stature, and of a complexion between white and black. Their language differs from that of the other Wadaïans.
The Koukah are established to the south-east of Wadaï, and form three divisions. They are esteemed by the Wadaïans on account of the slaves which are derived from them to serve as concubines. There is especially one division which supplies magnificent women, even preferable to the most attractive Abyssinians. The young slave-girls which are brought from thence are ravishingly beautiful, and endowed with grace that stirs all the emotions of the heart. Their charms trouble and torment the soul, turn the heads of the most devout ascetics, and lure them to pleasure. The Koukah tribe is numerous, and their country is well watered. According to the Wadaïans, all the inhabitants of the Dar-Seleih may be bought and sold, except the five original families.
The Goran inhabit the north of Wadaï, spread in little stations, each of which suffices for its wants. They are rich in flocks, in horses, and in camels. The people are of small stature, and of a clear brown colour, something resembling that of the Egyptians, so that they seem not to be of Soudan origin. The women that I have seen from that place appeared to me of remarkable beauty, but the Wadaïans differ in opinion. They almost dislike the colour of the Goran women, whom they consider to be too white, and they are sold at a low price. In Wadaï, the more an individual varies from the black colour the more distant does he seem from the position of a slave, but, at the same time, if there is any tendency to whiteness, they are displeased. The clear mulatto complexion of the Abyssinians is to them the type of the beautiful. A Tripoline saddler once presented to Saboun two slaves, one white and the other Abyssinian. The latter won the tenderness of the Sultan, but the former he never approached, and she remained deserted in the harem until her death.
I did not live long enough in Wadaï to be able to determine perfectly the different natures of its various people.[36] There are many other less important tribes spread here and there throughout the country. The Birguids, who correspond to the tribe of the same name in Darfur, are a treacherous, brutal people,—black, small, and slender. They occupy themselves principally in the chace, and in working in iron. I must observe, that nearly all the tribes that inhabit Darfur have corresponding or sister tribes in Wadaï.
All the frontiers of the country are surrounded with Arab tribes,—generally rich in camels, horses, flocks, slaves, silver, and coral. They are well furnished with arms, especially with excellent lances. The narrow space between Darfur and Wadaï is left unoccupied, because the Bedawins fear the extortions of the two great countries by which they would be hemmed in. As I have said, the Bidegat, though they live like Arabs, and feed principally on camels’ milk, are of negro origin.
All the peoples and tribes of Wadaï are governed by kings, to whom the title of Sultan is never given. Indeed, the Wadaïans will not admit that there exists in the whole world any other Sultan than theirs. All the other Sultans, according to them, are only Meliks. No one must say to a Wadaïan that there is a Sultan in his country, under pain of being taken severely to task; and if any one of the country were to use that expression he would most probably be insulted. Nevertheless, in conversation, the people never say Sultan, but use the word Melik, in speaking of their sovereign. The fact is, their language does not contain the word Sultan. It is a poor, hard, and rough dialect, in which the letter k constantly occurs. The commonest syllable is ak, God is Kalak, and the same word means a young child. Karak means a pious man, and also a pumpkin. One day I heard a kabartou, or crier and public executioner, blowing his trumpet, and singing his warlike song. I asked what he was saying, and was told that his words meant “hungry bird, come and eat;” that is to say, massacre your enemies, and may the hungry birds feed to satiety upon their flesh. I did not, however, remain long enough in the country to learn the language, and, indeed, did not think it necessary to do so, many of them speaking Arabic. I only knew what was necessary for ordinary life,—the names of water, of bread, of meat, household utensils, clothes, &c.; but as for a long time I have not had occasion to use these words, I forget them. Moreover, all the tribes of Wadaï have a particular language, each totally different from the other—as different as their physical characteristics. The Wadaïans, in fact, have a large head, a long face, strong joints, and elevated stature; generally, the men are handsomer than the women. The Kashmereh have an oval face, are of middle height, with joints not prominent. The Birguid have small heads, slender bodies, short stature, and are in general very black. The Koukah are mulatto-coloured, slight, and active; the women are handsomer than the men. Each of these people, therefore, has a physiognomy so distinct that it is recognised at once. It is not long since the Wadaïans were almost savages. They have only begun to be civilised for about half a century. Before that period they were confined or shut up within their frontiers, after the manner of the Chinese, allowing no one to go out, not even strangers who came to visit them. They feared that some foreign nation might be excited to attack and conquer their country. If a stranger arrived he was well treated and fed, but could never hope to depart. This custom was persisted in until the time of Sultan Saleh, who was a man of intelligence and good sense, fearing God and loving goodness. Under his reign some merchants came to trade at Wadaï, and were allowed to depart again. From that time forth caravans began to arrive, and the movement continued until Saboun came to the throne. Then the prosperity of the country increased, and the reign of that prince was a series of blessings. He gave presents to the merchants, to incite them to return to his country. The news of his generosity spread far and wide, and traders began to fall upon Dar-Saleh like showers of fertilising rain. Ulemas and poets came from distant countries to visit the prince. His reign was beautiful as the spring, generous as the beneficent dew. The only reproach that could be made against him was, that by his hospitable treatment strangers were so fascinated that they forgot all their other friends, and even their families. Saboun, from his youth upwards, was a rigid observer of all the principles consecrated by religion. No one could reproach him with neglect of any duties. When he became Sultan he caused the law to be respected, and applied it severely to all criminals, however high placed. In no country have I seen, as in Wadaï, the punishment prescribed by the law inflicted for adultery. I have seen Saboun condemn a woman for this crime. She was buried upright, up to her breast, in the earth, and then stoned to death.[37] As for the use of wine, I have seen this crime as severely punished in other countries as in Wadaï.
The love of Saboun for science caused a great many learned men to collect around him. The most distinguished was Ahmed-el-Fasi. After him came the Imâm Nour, the great Kadi, who was an Arab belonging to one of the neighbouring tribes. The Fakih Wali of Bagirmeh was a distinguished poet, and composed several copies of verses in praise of the Sultan. Many other learned and able men were to be found among the courtiers of Saboun.
I have already mentioned the courage which distinguishes the people of Wadaï, who surpass in valour most of the neighbouring tribes. They are far more intrepid than the people of Bornou, which is a country vaster and richer than theirs. I have often been told that the Fullans, or Fellatahs, have conquered the Bornouese nearly every time they have fought with them. When my father went from Bagirmeh to Bornou, the Fellatahs had just gained a great victory over that country, and its Sultan had fled away to the province of Kanoum. Here the able vizier, Emin, received him, and, having collected a large army, succeeded in replacing him on the imperial throne.
On one occasion the Sultan of Bornou, about the time of the wars of Zaky, sent an army, under the command of one of his viziers, to meet the Fullans. There were with them some Magrebyn and Bedawin Arabs. The Bornouese, during their march, entered a vast sandy plain, which stretched farther than the eye could reach, and perceived in the distance a great black mass, covering the whole horizon. They imagined that this mass was the army of the Fellatahs. Fear seized upon them, and chilled their souls. The head of the column halted in consternation, and soon the whole warlike array came to a full stop, and then began to retrograde, the soldiers crying one to the other that it was impossible to resist so great a multitude. A Magrebyn went to the vizier in command, and said,—
“What! do your troops disband at sight of that black mass, without knowing what it really is?”
“Who,” said the Vizier, “will go and reconnoitre?”
“I will.”
So the Magrebyn rode out alone across the plain, and soon discovered that the supposed Fellatah army was nothing but an immense herd of ostriches that were flapping their wings on the horizon, and thus figured an army marching, with its banners spread. The scout wheeled round, and returned shouting, “Come back, Bornou; come back! They are only ostriches!” But the army, instead of listening, continued its flight more rapidly, and arrived in complete rout at the Birny of Kanoum, where was then the Sultan. It was found necessary, therefore, to put all the chiefs to death, and to threaten whoever again fled before the enemy should meet with the same punishment. Thus incited, the army marched out under Emin, defeated the Fullans, made a hideous massacre of them, and drove them out of the country.
I explain the conduct of the Bornouese by their long habit of easy and peaceful life. Wherever habits of repose and inertness have prevailed in a state, the citizens learn to fear the fatigues and dangers of war. They have passed their time amidst physical enjoyment, rich dishes, elegant clothing, valuable horses, beautiful women, and the desire of the constant enjoyment of luxury has become imperative. If unforeseen circumstances call upon men to abandon these delights, they naturally resist and refuse to risk their lives, and abandon their comforts, forgetting that by this conduct the ruin of the most flourishing state is brought about, and that the fear of losing some enjoyment often leads to the loss of all.[38]
I have already said that the customs of Wadaï and those of Darfur are similar in some respects. The houses in the latter are more elegant, but those in the former are more solid. Warah is a large city, surrounded by a natural rampart of mountains. The dwelling of the Sultan is entirely of masonry, but is surrounded by huts inhabited by slaves. To the west, outside of the wall, is a mosque and a great square, called the Fasher, which word, in Wadaï, is restricted entirely to this place; whilst, in Darfur, it is applied to the whole town in which the Sultan resides. Two lines of acacia-trees adorn the Fasher of Warah. In the first line is a tree especially set apart for the use of the Sultan, who sits under it every Friday on coming out of the mosque, for the ceremony of salutation, in order to review his troops and to receive the complaints of his people. A little to the west of the first range of trees is another, under which the Kadis, the Ulemas, and the Shereefs sit. There is another range of trees, a good deal farther off, which serves as the permanent tribunal of the Kamkolak.
The great gate of the palace, which opens on the Fasher, may be used by every one, great or small, rich or poor. Outside are numerous huts, principally built against the wall, and inhabited by the Osban who may be on guard. These Osban are really Turguenaks, although the latter name is more especially applied to the superior officers of the corps, who are four in number, each commanding a thousand men. The Osban form the body-guard of the prince, and are also his executioners and the instruments of his anger. On this account they wear a uniform of imposing and menacing aspect. They wear short tunics, carry heavy clubs, and have iron head-pieces. Every evening a body of one thousand comes to guard the palace, five hundred remaining without, and five hundred acting as a garrison within. They march up in four divisions, making a frightful noise with their tambourines or drums, which are formed of hollowed trunks of trees, with skins stretched over each end. They do not wait to be relieved in the morning, but march away without being replaced, for there is no guard during the day.
The tribunal where the Sultan dispenses justice is a little square building, built against the wall-enclosure within the first gate. The second gate is guarded by a number of pages, who have passed the age of puberty, and who remain within. With them also are the grooms. The third gate is called the gate of iron, and is, indeed, covered with iron plates.[39] Beyond this, to the right, is the Kasr; where the Sultan sits in the afternoon during Ramad’han to listen to the reading of the Koran. In the interval which separates the third and fourth walls live the eunuchs and the young pages who have not yet arrived at the age of puberty. These alone, with the Sultan, are allowed to pass the fourth gate, which leads to the harem.
The walls and buildings of which the palace is composed are not much higher than a man, excepting the private apartment of the Sultan, which has a story above the ground-floor, with three windows overlooking the whole city. The windows are merely square holes, with two sticks placed crosswise. The dwelling-places of the eunuchs, the pages, and the Osban, spread throughout the palace, exactly resemble in form the Forian huts, and, like them, are constructed of millet-stalks; but the houses of Warah have nearly all enclosures built of earth mixed with stones. The earth used is greasy, and, when submitted to the action of the rain, becomes covered with a white crust as hard as iron.
Within the third gate of the palace, opposite the apartment of Ramad’han, is a kind of large shed, where every day the Sultan passes some time despatching business. He is separated from those who come to him by a partition of mats, made of a kind of grass woven with wonderful delicacy. This enclosure allows the Sultan not only to hear what is said, but to see those who are present without being visible to them.
The town of Warah, which is divided into two divisions, the Tourtalou, or left division, and Toulalou, or right division, is less populated than Tendelty. The latter place, however, is chiefly filled with merchants and strangers, who come and go. Neither city has a large population. The Forians are fond of pageantry and show. Each king surrounds himself with a number of secondary kings, who form his court, and endeavour to imitate his manners. In this way the principal people, instead of, as in other countries, collecting in the capital, are dispersed throughout the various districts, and Warah may be said to be inhabited chiefly by the court of the Sultan.
The topographical position of Warah differs essentially from that of Tendelty. The latter capital is established on a vast Gauz, or sandy country, where every one constructs a dwelling of the best aspect he may. Many of the habitations of the viziers approach in appearance that of the Sultan; but at Warah, which is hemmed close in by hills, the palace takes up so much space, that the great people who live there are obliged to occupy very humble dwellings.
CHAPTER V.
States of Soudan — Women of Bagirmeh — The Jenakherah — The Idolatrous Tribes — Their vast Numbers — A Slave-hunt — A great River — Manners — Manufactures — Peculiar way of going to bed — Marking Cattle — Cannibals — Origin of the Fullans — Meaning of “Soudan” — A Tempest — Thunder-bolts — Darfur and Wadaï.
Of the various constituted states of Soudan, the most vast are Bornou and Dar-Mella, after which come Darfur, Wadaï, Timbuctoo, and Bagirmeh. The least in extent are Afnou and Adagez.[40] Wadaï, although occupying the fourth rank as to extent, has many especial advantages. The slaves are much handsomer than those of Darfur, better trained, and more attentive to domestic duties; but the best slaves of all Central Soudan are, without doubt, those of Bagirmeh, especially the women, whose docility and gentleness are beyond all praise. When Saboun invaded that country the women turned the heads of all the Wadaïans, and almost disgusted them with their own wives. “Verily,” said they, “we have never seen women before.” Nevertheless, the Jenakherian girls, which the Wadaïans take away from the idolatrous tribes situated to the south of Dar-Seleih, are also remarkable for their beauty; and in the habitual relations of life have a seductive character which is not noticed in the slaves taken from the south of Darfur. And yet the Jenakherian people, to the south of both countries, touch upon and are confounded with one another; and the slave-hunts from Wadaï and Darfur often meet. The name of Jenakherah, in its general application, designates an immense conglomeration of people, of which God only knows the number, divided into an incredible number of tribes and clans, and spread throughout a zone that extends from the south of Sennaar to the south of Kashna, constituting Pagan Soudan.
In a straight line from east to west, there is from Sennaar to Kordofal a distance of fifteen or sixteen days; from Obeid, capital of the latter country, to Tendelty, there are ten or twelve days; and from the Forian Fasher to Warah, there are twenty days of ordinary marching, or ten days of forced marching. If you proceed still westward, you come to Bagirmeh; but if you take a south-west direction you reach Katakou, a province dependent on Bornou. Between Wadaï and Bagirmeh there is a space of five or six days’ journey. From Warah to Bornou there are two roads, one a little north of west, a distance of less than twenty days; but the second, which traverses Bagirmeh and Katakou, requires thirty-five days. In fine, to go from Bornou to Adagez, you must proceed fifteen days westward in a straight line.[41] From Adagez to Afnou there are four or five days of desert.
The idolatrous tribes to the south of Soudan are divided into groups and families. They are vastly superior in number to the Muslims, who are thrown like a chain across the desert, and it is at first surprising that they do not overwhelm them. The explanation may be found in the spirit of brotherhood which unites the Muslims, whilst the Pagans are always divided one against another, each station being inimical to its neighbour. When the enemy attacks a village, and takes away the women and children, the people of the next village look on without attempting to give assistance. They are attacked next, and their neighbours regard them with equal indifference, and so on. If these idolaters knew the strength which union gives, none of the Muslim states of Soudan would dare to attack them.
In fact, the numerous tribes of these Majous, or Pagans, cover a space which it takes at least three months of ordinary marching to traverse. The Forian and Wadaïan expeditions have been often out for six months, but have never succeeded in reaching the southern limits. The Fakih Medeny once related to me that a Forian expedition once pushed far into Dar-Fertyt, and resolved not to return until they had reached the southern boundary of that country. “They advanced,” he said, “for five months, going straight before them. Their friends wondered at their lengthy absence, and gave them up for lost. At the end of the five months the expedition reached a great extent of water, on the opposite banks of which it was difficult to distinguish an object no bigger than a man. Some people, however, dressed in red were descried, who took to flight on seeing the Forian troop. There being no means of crossing the water, they were now obliged to return. I asked for information on the distant countries of many persons who had been with the expedition, but could obtain nothing further. A long time afterwards I met an old man who had been on several similar excursions, and he said that he had once penetrated to the plain of water of which I have spoken, and that a man from Arabia, who was with him, said that the savages of the Fertyt somewhat resembled in appearance the Hindoos. But God knows the truth.”
The various tribes of Pagan Soudan, although very numerous, have all artificial signs, which distinguish them one from the other. The Bendeh file all their teeth, except the molars, into a round shape. The Kara are distinguished by the piercing of their lips. The Shala have the rim of their ears pierced with a series of holes, in each of which a quill might be passed. Their women are distinguished by the thousands of little cuts which they make upon their stomachs—figuring rings, squares, &c., and serving as ornaments, for they wear nothing but a very slight cloth round the middle. Others pierce the upper lip, others draw two of their teeth, and others make three rows of incisions upon each cheek.
The regions of Pagan Soudan are remarkable for the fertility of their soil and the purity of the air. The rains are abundant and prolonged, and in some places cease only two months of the year. In those southern countries are produced many kinds of tubercular plants for food, one of which, called oppo, when cooked upon hot coals, has the colour and the taste of a hard egg. Many fruit and other trees cover the plains. The people, so savage, so inhospitable, so far distant from the populations that are advanced in the industrial arts, display, in the fabrication of certain articles, a most wonderful address, giving them a finish worthy of the ablest European artisan. They make for the kings and princes of Soudan stools and seats of elegant shape and perfect finish. They also manufacture, with a cleverness that reminds one of the English, the knife-poniards which are worn tied to the arm above the elbow, and also the iron-work of lances. I have seen among the Fertyt tubes of iron, the work of which was of surprising purity and beauty, reminding one of European industry. These tubes, which are used for pipes, are not more than a span long, and are bent and twisted like some European pipes; but are more elegant, more graceful, and are so beautifully polished that they resemble silver. The bowls are made of earthenware, adorned with iron circlets. They also make bracelets and armlets of elegant manufacture.
The Fertyt make no kind of tissue, having no need of garments. The men wear a kind of apron about a span in breadth, and the women hide themselves only with leaves of trees, which are renewed as soon as they wither. The tribe of the Jengueh is richest in cattle. Their oxen are small, with long horns, and each individual has his flock. These people, men and women, go entirely naked, without apron or leaves. They are the most intrepid of the Fertyt, the most audacious, and the best runners. They are so swift that none can come up with them or escape them. They sleep both sexes together, buried in ashes. This is the way the women in each family prepare the beds: towards evening, when they have milked their cows and finished their domestic labours, they take a large basket and go through the country collecting dry dung, until they have made a great heap before their hut. They then set fire to it and reduce it to ashes. When they want to go to bed, the wife takes a piece of butter and rubs her husband from top to bottom, after which he creeps into his heap of ashes, where he sleeps. In the morning he goes to the first pool of water and washes himself. What I cannot understand in this habit is, that being thus buried in ashes, the Jengueh can breathe without drawing in the dust through the nostrils. Is this the result of habit? Do they leave their heads out in the air, or have they any other particular way of protecting themselves, against suffocation?[42]
The Jengueh do not mark their cattle in the same way as other nations. Every one knows their animals by the shape of their horns, for each herd have them in a particular direction, which is given them as soon as they begin to grow. Thus one master has the horns of his flocks perpendicular, another horizontal, another makes them advance forwards, another backwards, or to the right or left, or crosses them or twists them in various ways. These facts are certified to me by many individuals who have visited Jengueh, and I have myself seen some of their cows with horns bent in the shape of crescents.[43]
The Fertyts constitute an immense population, without any religion whatever.[44] When they are reduced to slavery they adopt the religion of those whose property they become. A year before my departure from Darfur a great Ghazwah, or expedition fitted out to catch slaves, set out under the command of a king or sultan of slave-hunts, authorised by the Forian Sultan according to the established forms. When the expedition was about to cross the boundaries of the Fertyt country some Bedawin Arabs presented themselves to the chief, and said that they had discovered a considerable tribe which had not hitherto been visited, and praised emphatically their beauty. The king, delighted with this information, took a body of men and set out; but some days afterwards he came back much disconcerted, bringing only a few slaves. I was afterwards told that this tribe was a tribe of cannibals who eat people alive. “When we reached their territory,” said a man who had accompanied the expedition, “and appeared before the first village, an immense crowd of the savages, with a weapon in the shape of a sickle, very pointed and sharp as a razor, in their hands, rushed fearlessly towards us. Behind them came an equal number of women, each carrying on her head a great bowl filled with a thick paste. The savages rushed upon us, each choosing a victim, and thrusting the point of their weapons in the shoulder, made an enormous gash. The blood gushed in abundance, and immediately the women came up with their bowls, from which the men took large handfuls, and, having dipped them in the blood, began to eat. They killed several of our men and devoured them, so that we fled away in a fright.”
“And how,” said I, “do you call this tribe, whom God confound?”
“They are called,” he said, “the Majanah.”
The Pagans of Southern Soudan stretch, as I have said, far to the west, even to Dar-Mella, or empire of the Fullans. These Fullans were formerly considered to be the most contemptible of the people of Nigritia. In Soudan, it is related that they descend from a chameleon, and, consequently, never had a human father. The woman from whom they sprang was found sleeping by a chameleon and bore a child, from whom all the Fellatahs descended. For my part, I think that this is a fable, invented with the purpose of contempt. Now-a-days the Fullans are supposed to be the people who are the most advanced in intelligence and knowledge, compared with the other black populations of the centre of Africa. They themselves pretend to be of the blood of the illustrious Ammar, son of Yasir, one of the celebrated and virtuous companions of Mohammed.
If we consider the denomination of Soudan, (which means in Arabic the country of the blacks—Nigritia,) as an expression indicating only the colour of the people who inhabit that part of Africa, and not as applied to a certain geographical division, we must comprehend under it the whole extent of country from Sennaar and Abyssinia inclusively, that is, from the shores of the Arabian Gulf to the western limits of Timbuctoo and Mella. But those who consider the divers regions of this zone in relation to the advantages and products of each, and the quality of the slaves derived from them, give the name of Soudan only to the cluster of states that stretch westward from Bornou exclusively. Thus, when the merchant-travellers of the Magreb, the Ghadamsees, and the Fezzanis, say that they have been to Soudan, they mean only that they have been to Afnou, Niffy, and Timbuctoo.[45] Those who have been to Bornou, Wadaï, or Darfur, never use this expression. They say that these three states are too inferior in advantages and commercial resources to be counted amidst the states of Soudan. When I returned to Tunis, I used often to say in the presence of merchants, when I was in Soudan such and such things happened. But they always took me up, saying,— “Thou hast never been in Soudan, but only in Wadaï and Darfur.”
I shall here make some observations on the climate of Wadaï. Wind, storms, thunder, and lightning, are very frequent there at the time of the Roushach. Their violence is such, especially during the first days of autumn, that it is almost impossible to describe their effects. During the whole time that I remained in the country I scarcely ever saw rain that was not preceded by a great wind that darkened the atmosphere. These storms generally advance from the east, and, passing over Gauz, or sandy plains, raise immense whirlwinds of dust, and carry them to a great distance. At the commencement of the storm the horizon is wrapped in clouds, either black or dun red. Presently the thunder bursts forth with terrific rolls. The people, stricken with fear, run to hide themselves. The shepherds hastily gather together their flocks and urge them towards the villages. Those who are working in the fields hasten to the nearest shelter, or run wildly towards the villages. The traveller seeks the first refuge he can find, for, if he is found abroad, there is peril. The storm, like a haughty and terrible conqueror at the head of his black warriors, strikes and shatters whatever it meets with. Isolated trees are often torn up by the roots, crazy huts are borne away, and old enclosures beaten to the ground. Even the beasts instinctively take to flight. The whirlwinds come laden with sand and gravel, that strike people down as if hurled from a sling.
When I first went to Darfur, on perceiving afar off these immense whirlwinds, I expected great clouds and showers to follow, but I was soon undeceived. These dusty masses are seldom brought by south or west winds. They are often the effects of violent gusts, without rain or thunder, and for this reason are the more dangerous, for the rain soon beats down the dust and sand, and restores tranquillity to the air. Sometimes, during a whole month, these violent burrascos blow every day, beginning in the afternoon. Generally, in the last days of autumn, they are entirely without rain. When they happen at night, they are commonly accompanied by frightful showers and thunder-claps. The lightning falls, setting fire to villages, and dashing trees to pieces. Mischief is announced by terrible detonations, accompanied by long trains of fire descending from the clouds. Many Wadaïans and Forians have assured me that they have dug pits in the earth, at the place where the thunder has fallen, and have found substances resembling ferruginous scoriæ. In the countries of Soudan where I have travelled the thunder is much louder and more terrible than in Egypt. I do not know what is the physical reason of this difference.
From what I have hitherto said of the customs of the Forians, their manner of life, their food, their constitution, their dwellings, their diseases, their ideas of medicine, the quadrupeds and birds that are found in the country, it will be seen that in comparing them with Wadaï the same conditions of life exist very nearly in both countries. The analogy is explained by their neighbourhood, for each people borrows something from its neighbours. The tribes on the two frontiers, likewise, are closely united in bonds of relationship. In describing the manners of Wadaï, therefore, I shall only mention those points which are peculiar to them.
CHAPTER VI.
The Fellatahs — Their Religious Theories — Rise of Zaky, or Dam-fodio — He undertakes a Reform — The first Battle — Zaky becomes King — Conquest of Kashna — Laws — The Wahabites in Arabia — Mohammedan Protestantism — State of Dar-Niffy — Anecdote of Wealth — The Fullans conquer Niffy — Zaky’s first Defeat — Muslim Civilisation — Characteristics of Nations.
The Fellatahs accuse all the other people of Soudan of impiety and heterodoxy, and maintain that force of arms should be used to bring them into the right way. They pretend that their neighbours have changed and adulterated the principles of Islam; that they have violated the penal prescriptions of the law, by allowing pecuniary commutations, that is to say, an illicit trade proscribed by the sacred book; that they have sapped the basis of religion, and have corrupted the rules of Islam, by proclaiming illegal and criminal innovations as legitimate; by shameful habits; by adultery and incest; by the use of fermented drinks; by the passion for amusements, songs, and dances; by the neglect of the daily prescribed prayers; by indulgence of all kinds of ill-regulated desires; and by the refusal of tithes for the poor. Each of these crimes and shames deserves vengeance, and calls for a Holy War in all the states of Soudan.
These thoughts had been stirring for many years in the minds of the Fullans, and electrifying their imaginations, when suddenly there rose a man amongst them revered for his piety and his religion. This was the Fakih Zaky, known in Europe as Dam-fodio, which means the son of Fody. He set himself up as a reformer, and proclaimed a Holy War. A vast crowd responded to his voice. Then he sent to the King of Mella, capital of the kingdom of the Fullans, a letter, in which he blamed him sincerely for violating the precepts of God and his Prophet; and ordered him to conform to the law that was pure and holy, to abolish the taxes and customs on transit, and follow exactly the penal laws enacted by the Koran. “In a word,” he said, “thou and thy subjects must submit rigorously to the maxims of Islam and do penitence, or I will rise against thee, as formerly did the just Abou-Bekr against those who refused the tithe of Charity.” When the King of Mella received this letter he was shaken by rage and indignation. “What!” he exclaimed, “this wretch threatens me with a revolt, and pretends that we are not Muslims! Let us get rid of him.” He collected an army and sent it against Zaky, ordering his vizier to put the whole of the insurgents to the sword, except Zaky, who was to be taken alive and brought bound. News of the approach of this army was brought Zaky, who said,—“This is what I desire.” He collected his partisans, and quietly awaited the approach of the enemy. When they appeared, he told his men to mount on horseback, but himself, from humility, got upon a camel, on the back of which was a sheep’s skin. Then he made this speech: “Remember that paradise is found under the shadow of swords. These wretches are come to fight for an impious cause. We have called them into the right way, and to reward us they threaten us with arms. Meet their attack with courage, and be certain of victory; for the Prophet has said, ‘Even if a mountain is guilty against another mountain it is swallowed up in the earth.’”
These words of Zaky filled his partisans with enthusiasm, and they aspired to the glory of martyrdom. They advanced against the royal army and routed it, and gathered immense quantities of spoil. Then Zaky pushed on to the capital, where he defeated the king himself, and took him prisoner, and slew him, and placed himself on the throne instead. Then he organised the country and raised troops. He chose a lieutenant, whom he ordered to comply scrupulously with the text of the law; to exact only the legal tithes, and to raise no more taxes than justice commanded. This done, he set out with his army for Kashna. The hope of plunder collected an immense number of people to join him; for whatever was taken he distributed, without keeping anything for himself. From Mella to Kashna there are about thirty stages, which were traversed without accident. Even when on a journey Zaky fasted every day, and never allowed many hours to pass without purifying himself by ablution. When he was near the city of Kashna, the king, who had heard of the revolution of Mella, came out to meet him. Zaky now sent a manifesto similar to that which he had despatched to his deposed prince. The King of Kashna tore it in pieces, and burst into invectives against the Fullans, and attacked them, but was defeated and killed. The Fakih proclaimed himself master of the country, and his troops plundered the property of the king. He, however, established the severest rules of justice, and made himself beloved by all. He threatened the severest punishment to whoever committed the slightest transgression of the law, or against religion. His criers announced that when the Muezzin called to prayer, whoever failed to be at the mosque should be punished with death. After having spent some time in regulating the country, he announced to his troops that he was determined to punish all the kings and sultans of Soudan for their injustice and impiety, and began his march against Niffy.
Let us here remark a singular coincidence. The war of Reform, undertaken by the Fakih Zaky, began at the same time that the armed Protestantism of the Wahabites triumphed in the Hejaz.[46] Whilst the fiery Fellatah was proceeding with his religious conquests, Saoud, son of Abd-el-Azeez, the Wahabite, had come out of Derieh, and marched in arms against Mekka and Medina, under pretence that the people of the sacred territory had abandoned the primitive ways of the law of Islam. It was according to these principles of Puritanism that Saoud destroyed the tombs of the saints and the companions of the Prophet. He instituted an overseer of police, whose duty it was to beat those who abstained from the mosque. He proscribed the use of tumback and tobacco, and forbade the use of certain books, condemned the custom of praying to the Prophet, and allowed of no invocation but to God. If he heard an individual mix the name of the Prophet with his oaths and protestations, whatever they were, he caused him to be seized and beaten, and said to him,—“Acknowledge thy fault and expiate it, polytheist that thou art!” Zaky fell into the same extremes of rigour.
When the Fullans approached Niffy, the inhabitants of that city came out in arms, but were defeated and cut to pieces. This place is one of the most remarkable of all Soudan. It is celebrated for the easy character of its inhabitants, and the well-being which they enjoy. Strangers are received with benevolence, and some learned men have fixed their dwelling-place there. The cheapness of provisions renders life agreeable. The population is rich, and consists in a great measure of merchants, who, at certain periods, go upon commercial expeditions to Timbuctoo, to Kashna, and to other places of Soudan, from whence they bring back merchandise, and especially slaves. Dar-Niffy is situated south of the states of Morocco, and carries on an active commerce with that empire.[47]
The city of Niffy, as I have said, is full of very rich merchants, who carry on a prodigious trade. The following anecdote is a proof of this:—A merchant of Morocco, who wanted to exhibit his great wealth, arrived there with at least a thousand slaves and more than five hundred camels; the great people of the place came to visit him, and felicitate him on his fortunate voyage. Not knowing the amount of their fortune, he received them with haughtiness. The chief was hurt by his airs of importance, but dissimulated his anger, and resolved to humble the pride of the stranger. He sent several people to ask what merchandise he had to sell. “I have,” he said, “this troop of slaves, but I want to sell all together, camels, cords, sacks, travelling utensils, &c., and I wish to find a single buyer. If there is any one who can pay the price of my whole caravan, let him come.”—“Very good,” they replied; “rest after thy fatigues, and thou wilt easily find what thou desirest.”
Two or three days afterwards, the Morocco man learned that there was at Niffy an individual the amount of whose fortune no one knew. He was the chief of the merchants of the city whom he had received so coldly. This merchant called one of his inferior slaves, who acted as a clerk, and said to him: “Said, go and buy the whole caravan of that man, slaves, utensils, camels—everything.” Said dressed himself in his best, and went, and was received by the Morocco man, who thought he had to do with the chief of the merchants of the city. After a few words, Said observed that he had a great number of slaves to send to some of his correspondents, and had heard that there was a large caravan to be sold in a mass. The bargain was soon struck, at the rate of six thousand cowrie shells per head, and the price of all the other articles was also fixed. The merchant only kept a slave-woman, by whom he had had a child. The rest were led away; and Said told the merchant to come in three days, and receive payment. At the appointed time the Morocco man dressed, and went to the house of the chief of the merchants, thinking that it was with him that he had done business. He found him in a handsome mansion, about which a considerable crowd was moving, whilst he himself sat in a place apart, like a king, overlooking and directing all this bustle. When the salutations had been exchanged, the man of Niffy affected to talk with other persons on matters of business; add it was not for some time that he condescended to address the stranger, and say to him,—“Friend, what is the motive of thy visit?” The other told him that it was to fetch the price of his slaves, which he had sold to him three days ago. The head of the merchants affected surprise, and said that he had not found it necessary to buy slaves for a whole year, and yet had about ten thousand left. “Is it possible, then, that there is any one else here besides thyself who could have made this large purchase?”—“Certainly. I have myself thirty clerks who have slaves, and yet the poorest of them could have bought thy whole lot.” At this moment a slave came up, and mentioned that he had bought so many slaves and so much gold dust, that he had received so many thousands of shells, &c. His master asked him if it were he that had bought the caravan of the merchant, but he said, “No.” Then the other clerks were called one by one, but all denied having heard of the business; so that the merchant began to think that he had lost his caravan. At last some one said that he had heard that Said had bought a whole caravan. “May Heaven confound him!” exclaimed the chief of the merchants; “he is always doing those kind of things: let him be called.” Said soon presented himself, and admitted the purchase, but affected to be angry with the Morocco man for speaking on such a trifling business to his master, and then requested him to come and be paid. Having handed over the amount of shells agreed on, he said,—“May God and his Prophet preserve me from ever buying again from such as thee! Didst thou consider me to be insolvent, that thou shouldst thus go and complain to my master? I have bought much greater caravans than thine without his knowing anything of it.” The Morocco man was so humiliated by this proof of his comparatively small importance, that he hastened to leave the city.
Let us now return to the history of the Fullans. Zaky easily made himself master of Niffy. Struck with the beauty of the country, and the wealth of the inhabitants, he resolved to build there a seat of government.[48] He became so fond of the country that he always returned thither after his excursions. Having rested a year, and organised the government according to the principles of Islam, he marched upon Afnou, which is celebrated for the beauty of its slaves, and soon conquered it as well as Aghadez. Then he proceeded against Bornou, the Sultan of which fled, as I have related, to Kanoum. Now it was that Emin preached a sacred league against the invader, whom he accused of having uttered false accusations against Soudan, as an excuse for extending his authority. Soon afterwards Zaky was defeated with great loss, and driven out of Bornou. This was the first revival of courage amongst the princes of Soudan. It is singular that the defeat of the Fellatahs coincided in time with the first reverses of the Wahabites, which took place four or five years after the period when the French definitively evacuated Egypt.
All these revolutions, which convulsed Central Soudan from Niffy and Kashna to Bornou, were the consequences, as I have already suggested, of the sedentary and tranquil life of the inhabitants. Ibn-Khaldoun has already shown, in his great history, the effects of luxury in rendering people effeminate. It may be objected that the developments of industry and wealth in Europe do not produce similar results. But it must be remembered that, in Islam, whatever refinement exists is merely material, and has reference to the pleasures of the table, the relation of the sexes, the laying out of fine houses, furniture, valuable horses, singing, and domestic festivals. But there is nothing done for the abstract sciences, nothing for the departments of knowledge which are the domain of intelligence, the applications of mathematics to arts and to war, physics, chemistry, medicine, natural history, botany, and experimental studies. The knowledge of the Muslim, when he has any at all, is confined to religious and civil jurisprudence, according to the rite he has adopted. He adds to this certain theological notions on the unity of God, and the elements of analytical grammar. This is all that constitutes the science of the Ulemas, the learned men of Islam, who attack all those who meddle with human sciences as infidels and philosophers.
I shall now make some observations on the various characters of the people of Soudan, comparing them with the other countries known to me. The Forians resemble the Turks something in character, as well as by a large number of words of their language, by the ostentation of courage under which they mask their pusillanimity, by their pride, coupled with their suppleness to humiliation, by their love of idleness, by their haughtiness, by their fondness for show, and their eagerness to exercise revenge when an opportunity presents itself. Like the Turks, the Forians neglect important things to busy themselves about matters of minor importance. But that which characterises them essentially, especially those that are indigenous, inhabiting the Marrah mountains, is an avarice beyond all expression. Generosity and free and open hospitality are found only among the kings, who are nearly all of Arab origin. The Forians are wanting in vivacity of intelligence and in promptitude of action. This is another feature in which these black men, habitants of arid and unfertile countries, resemble the Turks, who occupy a more favourable position.
The temper of the Wadaïans has some analogy with that of the French. They resemble them even in their fondness for institutions like that of the quarantine; but, instead of having their narrow and grasping parsimony, they have the generous hospitality of the Arabs. I also notice in the councils of the Sultan a certain resemblance with the parliamentary assemblies of France. The Kamkolaks, who are in reality Wadaïans of an inferior rank, are counsellors of the Sultan. If he were to dissent from their decisions, and oppose the execution of their judgments, they would probably revolt against him. This is another trait peculiarly French.
The people of Bagirmeh and Katakou remind me of the Italians in the softness of their language, and the want of energy of their character. The Birguid, the Tamians, and the Zagawah, are perfidious and treacherous, like Greeks. Like them, they are base and crawling when they fall in war into the hands of their enemies. The Fullans resemble the Russians in their love of aggression and conquest, and in the care they take to keep armies always ready for that purpose; but in religious fanaticism they resemble the Spaniards, and for a single prayer missed would put a man to death. The Bornouese resemble the English in their somewhat coarse pride, in their taste for luxury and show, and in their insatiable avidity; but they are cowardly. Among Dajo and the Bijo, we find the natures of the Fellahs, or peasants, of Egypt—the same laziness, the same carelessness of their persons, the same dirt around them. They submit, without a word, to all kinds of oppressions from their superiors—to forced labour in every shape. They allow their children, girls and boys, to be carried away and made to work, without ever thinking of means of escape from unjust caprice, or of freedom from odious servitude. This resignation is greater still among the Berti and the Massalit, who are richer and more numerous. They turn pale at the slightest glitter of warlike weapons, and at sight of a few armed men tremble like sheep in presence of the wolf. A single Forian, with a stick in his hand, can drive before him two hundred men of Berti.
CHAPTER VII.
Trade, by whom followed — Exports of Darfur — Price of Slaves — Imports — Value of Metals — The Tallari — Commerce of Wadaï — Pledges of Love — A lost Moudraah — Value of Salt — Manufactures — Interchange of Services — Burials — A Happy Country — Counting Prayers — Forian Character — Occupations of Women — Government of Wadaï — Offices — Audiences — Kabartou — Servility — Punishments — Prisons.
The Sovereign Disposer of all things has placed commercial men neither among the great nor among the poor, but among the middle classes. By their means the productions of various countries are spread abroad, and relations are established between nations. The most virtuous of men, the holy Prophet of God, Mohammed himself, honoured this profession, and went on trading journeys into Syria. His example has been followed by men of various climates; among others, the people of Soudan, being in possession of many natural productions, and in want of manufactured articles, have naturally taken to trade.
From Darfur are exported slaves, gum, elephants’ teeth, tamarinds, various kinds of medicaments, ox-hides, from which are made the great square leathern bags, called in Egypt rai,[49] and black and white ostrich feathers. All these things are easily sold in foreign countries, where there is a great demand for the principal articles.
Darfur imports merchandise which is generally without value or utility for civilised people, especially karaz, or glass ware, beads, &c., of various kinds, used as ornaments by the women. Some kinds serve the purpose of hidden jewellery, if I may so express myself. They wear several strings of them round their waist, the jingling of which is supposed to stimulate amorous sentiments. Women know how to communicate their feelings and desires to their lovers by this curious language. The Forian women also wear, for the same purpose, bracelets and anklets, with little bells, which tinkle as they move. Coral, artificial and otherwise, is also sent to that country for the manufacture of ornaments. The red caps worn by the men are brought from Fez. The slave-merchants take to Darfur some fine cotton stuffs, each piece of which is of sixty cubits. They cut them into lengths of twenty cubits in the country where they buy, and having had them dyed, take them away, and generally procure a slave for each cut. A coarse mixture of silk and cotton is also used in the barter for slaves, as are also several other kinds of stuffs. Foreign asses, such as those of Egypt, are highly esteemed in Darfur. A Forian will give ten slaves for one ass![50]
They take to Darfur a good deal of sunbul or nard (Spica Celtica), sandal wood, myrtle-leaves, cloves, coffee, and soap. With the exception of the two last-mentioned articles, which are imported in very small quantities, all these substances are reduced to powder for cosmetics. Old vessels of copper, such as worn-out caldrons, are sent to Darfur, and sold at a high price, to be mixed with zinc, for making anklets and other ornaments. Yellow copper, in leaves, is very rare, being used only to make the frontlets for horses. Latten wire is much sought after, to ornament the shafts of lances. Needles are very dear; a slave is given for a thousand. Foreign razors bear also a high price; those made in the country skinning rather than shaving. Turkish saddles, Mamlook stirrups, coats of mail, and straight swords—for the Sultan only can use the scimitar— are in request. To these straight swords are attached silver pommels, in which are hollows containing pebbles, that produce a jingling sound. When thus ornamented, a sword is called a garlic-head.
One of the most profitable articles of importation is the tallari, or Spanish douro—the pillar-dollar. A slave is bought for eight or ten dollars (from 2l. to 2l. 10s.). Bars of sulphur are also very valuable in Soudan; so is writing-paper; and the sale of Muslim books of jurisprudence, and of the Haddyth, or book of traditions of the Prophet, is very advantageous. Brass inkstands, with cases for pens attached, and pen-knives, are sold to the Fakihs. Muslin for turbans, shoes, and yellow slippers for women, are only sent to private orders. Most of these articles are supplied by Egypt to Darfur.
Wadaï imports almost the same articles as Darfur, although the people are less refined in their taste, and the law interferes in some respects. For example, the khaddour, which is the ornament of the common women in Darfur, is restricted in Wadaï to the wives of great personages, and no one is allowed to use Turkish saddles except the Sultan. The articles most sought after are various kinds of beads, natural and artificial coral, copper, calicoes, melayeh, various kinds of perfumes, coats of mail, sabres, and yellow copper in leaves. The Wadaïans use more silk in their ornaments than the Forians. Asses are rarely demanded. Most of the merchandise brought to Wadaï comes by the way of Fezzan.
In Darfur is bought a kind of bead about three fingers’ breadth long, and generally black and white, called chor. The women string these beads on threads taken from the leaves of the daum, or on grass stalks. The rich interpose between a black bead and a white bead a round bead of coral. In this way moudraahs, or armlets, worn above the elbow, are made. Many young Forians wear these ornaments as a sign that they love a young girl, or are beloved by her. Pledges of affection are often interchanged in this way. To a young girl is given generally a ring, or a cadmoul, or sash of cotton striped with silk. In return, the lover receives a moudraah, and exhibits it on his arm, proud of his good fortune.
When I arrived in Darfur my father had two concubines, to one of whom he was passionately attached, being guided in his likes and dislikes by her. One day she was engaged with some of our slaves in arranging her collars, and I was sitting on the ground close by. A young Arab girl of the neighbourhood came and brought a present of a bowl of milk, which was put aside for my father, but I went and drank it, upon which my step-mother became angry. It happened that one of her moudraahs fell to the ground, and, being buried in the dust, could not be found. She accordingly accused me, as soon as my father came in, of having fallen in love with the Arab girl, and of having stolen the armlet to make her a present. I was innocent, but my father believed the accusation, and next day ordered my uncle Zarouk to put me in irons and imprison me in a room. I was kept in this way for three days, regretting that I had come to Soudan. The anklet, however, was at length found, and I was let loose, and presented, by way of consolation, with a complete new suit. I went to kiss the hand of my father, who said to me, with emotion, “Give thanks to God that it was I, and not a judge, who had to examine this affair, otherwise thou wouldst have been condemned.” A little while afterwards this woman again accused me of theft, upon which my father ordered her to be chained and sent to the kitchen to work. It was with some difficulty that he was induced to forgive her. Long afterwards he left her in Wadaï with Zarouk. She was insubordinate, and was put in prison by the Sultan, and remained there several years, being only let loose to bear a child.
The most lucrative article of commerce in Darfur and Wadaï is red copper, which brings almost its weight in gold. Next comes zinc, and then tallaris and latten, in leaf. All these things are brought by the Jellabs, or slave-merchants, on their return journeys.
The Arabs of the neighbouring desert import other articles, as melted butter, oxen, cows’ hides, and honey. The Rezeigat, especially, bring large quantities of butter. Other tribes trade in salt, which they fetch from the wells of Zaghawy. This substance is much sought after in Darfur, where it is often sold one measure for twenty measures of millet. The salt of Mydaub is especially set apart for the viziers and other great people. That of Zaghawy is the worst that can be found in the world, being mixed with great quantities of earth. People in easy circumstances dissolve it in water, which they strain off, and afterwards allow to evaporate. Verily! if the Forians were to behold salt like that of Rosetta or Tunis, they would fight for it sword in hand. The Falgo salt, found in the Marrah mountains, is used in pieces as money.[51]
As might be expected, industry is little developed in Central Africa. In Darfur and Wadaï there are no trades scarcely but those of the weaver, the blacksmith, the cultivator, the spinner, and the founder, that is to say, the maker of lances, of bows and arrows, and some rough utensils for agriculture and the ordinary uses of life. In Darfur there are strangers from Katakou, who dye in blue, with indigo, and know how to produce the varying blue-black tints of the Godeny and the Teykan. The Forians are very clever in tanning skins, for which they have all the necessary implements and substances. They prepare, with the hides of oxen and camels, sacks, and large fine pieces of leather, which are used to sit or sleep upon, or to bolt wheat. With the skins of goats they make excellent bags for carrying travelling provisions. With sheep-skins, red or green, they cover scabbards or saddles.
There are scarcely any other arts in Darfur than those which I have indicated. The wants which in civilised countries have created the professions are satisfied by mutual assistance. Neighbours shave the heads of one another, and then there is no need of barbers. If a man requires a house, he calls in his friends, and pays them with a dinner and supper, and so there is no need of builders.
If a man dies, a friend, and, above all, a Fakih, performs the last duties, washing the corpse and burying it, for every one knows the simple ceremonies necessary. If a woman dies, the funereal duties are performed by some old person of her own sex. To carry the corpse to the burial-place, they knock up on the spot a rough litter, made of two sticks with cross strings. Upon this is placed a kind of bed, made of mats. The corpse is placed thereon, and thus taken to the place where the friends of the deceased have dug a grave, which is in all cases separate from any other. Neither those who wash the corpse, nor those who carry it, receive any kind of payment; and no charge whatever is made by those who recite the Koran for the repose of the soul of the deceased, or who repeat the prayers of deliverance, or who tell the chaplet of pardon. There is, therefore, no need of undertakers or priests in that country.
In Darfur I have seen the prayers of the chaplet counted by means of little fragments of reeds. Whoever wants to take part in these kind of prayers cuts ten small fragments of reed and ten large ones. When he has pronounced on his ordinary chaplet the first hundred of La Illah il’Allah—“There is no other God but God,” he puts aside one of the small pieces of reed; after the second hundred, he puts aside another piece; and so on until all the ten are united. Then he knows that he has articulated a thousand times his confession of faith. In order to count the thousands, he puts aside one of the large pieces of reed, so that at last he knows exactly when he has uttered the sacred words ten thousand times. The Forians pretend that the fragments of reed thus used acquire beneficent virtues. If they are burned near a fever patient, they at once cure him. The ashes mixed with water form an effective collyrium, which cures ophthalmia, if applied three days successively in the morning. Some of the fragments placed between a corpse and its shroud induce God to treat the soul of the deceased with benevolence, and not to be severe in the appreciation of its faults. Fraternal charity, in reference to the will of God, is a common thing in Darfur. He upon whom any misfortune falls is always succoured by his friends and those who know him.[52]
The Forian women have no knowledge of the domestic labours to which the women of civilised countries are accustomed to. The daughters of the rich spend a part of the day in adorning themselves; in rubbing their bodies with butter and their hair with grease, in putting kohl in their eyes, in perfuming themselves, and curling their hair. When they have finished they occupy themselves with household duties, and then pass their time in making fine mats with slips of daum leaves, which they have stained of different colours—red, black, green, or yellow. These mats are light and handsome, and seem to invite those who see them to sit down and sleep.
A Forian woman, of whatever class, generally prepares the food of her husband and the guests who come to the house. The poor assist the men in sowing and reaping, in gathering grain and cotton. At other periods of the year they collect a store of fruit and many kinds of wild grains for their families. It is they also who gather in the water-melons, and pound them, and prepare them for eating. They go out into the fields with their husbands and cut down the weeds, which they collect for fuel. The very young girls keep the flocks, and afterwards accompany their parents in their work. In the evening it is the wife who brings home upon her head a great packet of wood and dry grass or weeds, to serve for the purposes of cookery and to light up the huts.
The poor people generally endeavour to buy each a she-goat or a sheep, on the milk of which they live. They are in a most frightful state of want and misery, suffering from the tyranny of their governors and the exigencies of war. Their life is that of slaves.
Let us turn from the consideration of these humble topics to that of the government and the constitution of the country of Wadaï. Certes, the most powerful and the most respected sovereign in all Soudan was Sultan Saboun. It is the custom in Wadaï to recognise as a prince only one who is born of a mother of noble origin, whose genealogy is pure, and who belongs to one of the five privileged tribes. The son of a slave, even if she were a descendant of the Prophet, can never ascend the throne. I have already traced back Sultan Saboun to the great Seleih, and it is not necessary to repeat what I then said.
The functions and dignities of Darfur differ in nature from those of Wadaï. In the latter country there are eight Kamkolaks; four of the first rank and four of the second. They form a judicial tribunal, whose decisions can never be reversed by the Sultan. If he has strong reasons for blaming any particular sentence, and they persist in it, he may discharge them, but he cannot reverse what they have decreed without the assistance of the Grand Kadi.
The highest rank after the Kamkolaks is that of Momo, mother of the Sultan; then comes that of Hobaba, or chief wife; and afterwards are ranged the Aguid, the Viziers, the Kamna, and the Turguenak. Then follow the kings of the mountains, the governors of secondary rank, and the kings.
Twice a-week, on Mondays and Fridays, the Wadaïan Sultan gives a public audience to receive the complaints of his people. On the Monday he occupies a room which overlooks the Fasher, where are the lines of trees I have mentioned, under which is established the tribunal of the Kamkolaks, indicated by a line of lances stuck up in the ground. The judges remain there all the morning and afternoon, and only go away during the great heat, or when it rains. As I have mentioned, it is also under a tree that the Sultan gives audience on Friday.
Then the Kadi, the Muftis, the Ulemas, the Shereefs, and other great people, each according to his rank, squat down on the ground before the Sultan, between whom and the crowd is a row of seven interpreters, ranged one behind the other. Amongst the Forians the people begin by uttering their salutations; but in Wadaï no one speaks before the Sultan. The interpreters repeat his words, saying: “Kadi, the Sultan salutes thee; Ulemas of Islam, the Sultan salutes you;” and so on through all the various ranks until they come to the people. The individuals of each category, as soon as they have been addressed, clap their hands and incline their heads even to the earth, at first on the right hand and then to the left. During this ceremony, and almost without interruption, the baradieh and tambourine resounds behind the Sultan, and whenever its notes are strengthened the whole assembly accompanies it by a gentle clapping of hands. At the same time the soldiers, who are ranged standing round the crowd, brandish and strike together the iron rods which they hold in each hand. This beating of the tambourine, this clapping of hands, this clashing of weapons, is mingled, moreover, with the cries of the soldiers, who shout out, “Glory to thee, O Sultan! Buffalo of intrepidity! May God make thee victorious over our enemies,— thee, our master!” All these sounds make a strange and savage concert.
The Kabartou form a choir who in public ceremonies sound the trumpet and beat the tambourine; they also act as executioners. In the weekly assemblies they sit on a slightly-raised platform, some of them furnished with long trumpets, which assist in increasing the clamour. When the music ceases to play, the Turguenak advance, armed with clubs, the knobs of which are covered with iron. They wear steel headpieces, and most of them have coats of mail, whilst others have a thick-padded tunic, to protect them in battle against arrows. Each company is headed by two drums, which are beaten with tremendous violence. They march through the crowd, and then round between it and the Sultan, making as if they would strike the spectators, and crying: “Ask pardon of God and the Prophet.”
At the extremity of the Fasher, opposite the palace, is a little eminence called Thoraya, on the top of which is a building in which are deposited the great kettle-drums of the Sultan. At Wadaï the covering of these drums, instead of being performed with ceremonies, as at Darfur, is executed in secret. Whenever the Sultan appears upon the Fasher the music of Thoraya resounds, and at the same time is heard the crash of the baradieh, the rolling of the tambourines of the Kabartou, the trumpets of the Turguenak, the clashing of the iron rods, the clapping of hands. It is impossible to conceive a greater clamour. On Friday, after the salutation, whoever has any complaint to make proceeds in the following manner:—He first strips his garments off his shoulders and ties it round his loins; then he walks in front of the spectators from right to left, stooping down and clapping his hands. He does this until he succeeds in attracting notice. If the matter is of minor importance the Sultan sends the plaintiff to the Kamkolak; if otherwise, he himself decides.
The respect of the Wadaïans for their Sultan is a kind of adoration. They never lay any business before him without repeating the first chapter of the Koran, and praying God to grant him victory and long life. Everything of value is reserved for him. No vizier or functionary is allowed to wear silk on his person, or in the housings of his horses. He must not have a saddle covered with cloth, nor gilded, nor embroidered in gold, nor garnished with silver. No one but he, moreover, is allowed to make use of a carpet to sit upon. No man or woman is permitted to have ornaments of gold, nor to have fans of ostrich feathers, nor even of coloured paper, as in Europe. Both sexes indifferently wear clothes, black or white, of cotton, linen, or coarse muslin. All ornaments, even of the wives of viziers and emirs, are of silver; the middle classes wear copper, and the poor iron. If any one were to transgress this sumptuary law, whatever might be his rank, he would be put to death without mercy.
The object of these customs is to repress the spirit of insubordination,—to prevent its being supposed that there is no difference between a sovereign and his subject, and thus to prevent revolt. The servility of the people is so great that it is not allowed amongst them to praise any one whatever. No one is worthy of praise but their Sultan. It is not even allowed for a subject to bear the same name. Under the reign of Saleh the people of the provinces came to present themselves to that Sultan. The interpreter, according to custom, had taken down their names beforehand in a hurry. Among the visitors was one named Saleh, so, in addressing him, the interpreter said,— “The Sultan salutes Fakih Saleh.” At these words the Prince frowned, and uttered a cry like that of a peacock. The interpreter felt his danger, and quickly said,—“The Sultan salutes thee, Fakih Fakeh.” Near Warah there was a well called the well of Saboun; when that Sultan came to the throne it was called the well of Ochar.
The Sultan never drinks water twice following from the same place. The water-carriers of the palace come suddenly upon one of the wells, and beat away with whips those who are near it, and then fill their jars. It is feared that some one may bewitch or poison the water, which is put carefully in jars, enough for twenty days being taken at a time.
No person is allowed to appear before the Sultan inside his palace with a turban, with shoes, or even fully dressed. He takes off something at each gate, until he is reduced to a single garment round the middle. When the Sultan calls any one he uses the words, Ya Abd!—“Oh slave!” which appellation is received with pleasure. No one is allowed to see him face to face in his own dwelling, for he always speaks from behind a partition or curtain.
When a debtor delays payment too long in Wadaï, the creditor, on meeting him, whether alone or in company with others, draws a line round him and says, “I summon thee in the name of God and his Prophet, in the name of the Sultan, and the mother of the Sultan, and the judges, not to overpass this line until thou hast paid me.” After this the debtor dare not pass until he receives permission or pays his debt, otherwise he may be severely punished.
It is customary in all Wadaï to give to any pretty girl the surname of Habbabeh, the title of the first wife of the Sultan. After this she cannot be married until she has been presented to the Sultan, who has the option of keeping her for his harem or of sending her back to her father.
Few persons occupy a lofty position for more than two years. After that they are removed to other posts or fall into disgrace. There is an extensive system of inspection organised. Malversation is severely punished.
There are various kinds of punishment established by the Koran and by the laws of different countries. Murderers are decapitated in Egypt, or cut to pieces with swords, or hanged, or impaled. In the times of the Mamlooks, a frightful punishment was that of the Shamyal. The body of the criminal was placed in a great basin and stained with tar, which was set on fire, and in this state he was carried about the city on the back of a camel. The last person who suffered this punishment was a woman named Jinieh, who used to decoy young women into her house to assassinate them. Other criminals were burned, others were buried alive. In the year 1797 of the Christian era there was a Turk who used to put men in a deep pit, and sit over it to take his meals until they died. In Tunis it is still customary to pound people in mortars. A Sultan of Morocco once put a Jew in a barrel, the inside of which bristled with nails, and ordered it to be rolled down a hill. There are various other kinds of punishments, by drowning, strangling, poisoning, starvation, or the cannon. The Defterdar Bey, in Egypt, used to call the cannon employed for this purpose his Kadi, and when he condemned any one to that kind of death, used to say simply,—“Take him to the Kadi.”
Many of the punishments ordered by the Muslim law have fallen into disuse. For some time robbers have begun to be sent to the galleys, instead of having their hands cut off. In Soudan people are allowed to buy themselves off from condemnations, even for incest and murder.
In Darfur the most common punishments are imprisonment and stripes. The prison is an inclosure without roof or flooring, in which the convict is thrown with irons on his feet and a collar round his neck. The gaolers are eunuchs. The prisoners are obliged to occupy themselves in tanning hides, and if they do not perform their appointed task in a proper time they are severely punished. If they oversleep themselves in the morning, they are dreadfully beaten for a long time. Those who are condemned for life have their irons rivetted on.
Among the Forians, they have what they call the bortoan-bau, or break-melon. When an individual is condemned to death by the Sultan, he says,— “Break the melon;” upon which the executioners seize the condemned man, and raising him in the air, drop him down several times head foremost until he be dead. Men are sometimes stretched between two posts and beaten with the prickly branches of a stinking tree, until death nearly ensues. Murderers are killed with a lance by the nearest relation of the victim. There is a commutation established for a broken tooth, or any other wound.
In Wadaï the punishments determined by the religious laws are applied according to the very terms of the Koran.[53] The Sultan has also the right to condemn to death, to stripes, or to imprisonment. When he wants to put a criminal to death, he says to his Kabartou, “Take that man and crush him,” and he is immediately led out to the Fasher and killed with clubs. Stripes are administered with whips made of the hippopotamus’ hide; and men are often known to receive a hundred or a thousand blows without a cry. Prisoners have sometimes their legs tied round trees, at other times their feet are put in a kind of fetter called a scorpion.
CHAPTER VIII.
Magic — Public Opinion — Story of an Elephant — A bold Orator — Too much of a Good Thing — Anecdote — Three Presents — A huge Pipe — Milk-drinking — Dress of the Wadaïans — Music — Frontlets — Amchinga — Dress — Duties of Women — Love — A Turguenak and a King’s Slave — Intrigues — Their cause — A Story of Passion — Unfaithful Women — Afrits or Devils — A violent Lover — Morals in Soudan.
As in Darfur, hunters and blacksmiths in Wadaï form the lowest classes of the population. If a Shereef passes by a blacksmith’s shop, he has the privilege of taking away any object he pleases. The origin of this custom was, that a Shereef once rubbed his hands with an incombustible unguent and carried a piece of red-hot iron, ever since which they have been thought to possess a magical power. I have been told in Wadaï that fire does not burn Shereefs, but I have never seen an example of this.
In Wadaï the Sultan has a discretionary power over individuals, but he cannot change the established custom. The slightest innovation might cost him his life. Sultan Saboun once wished to alter the grain measure; but the people refused to comply, and my father was deputed to set forth before the Sultan the danger of an insurrection. Another time Saboun wished to coin money, and established a mint; but it was represented to him that the same proposition had been made, but had been rejected, for fear that it might destroy the simple customs of the country. Saboun abandoned his project. The Sultans of Soudan affect an imposing and terrific appearance, so that no one unaccustomed to address them can speak without fear. It is related that Sultan Tyrab, of Darfur, once sent to some Bedawin Arabs an elephant to feed and bring up. This huge animal committed great destruction, but no one dared to interfere with it. At last, however, the people went to the Sheikh and complained, saying,—“What an enemy we have here in this elephant! Why, when the Sultan sent it to thee, didst thou not observe that we were poor people, unable to bring up such a monstrous beast? Thou hast received this parasite without saying a word. He devours our provisions and destroys everything. Get rid of the accursed brute, or we will kill it.”
“But,” replied the Sheikh, “I should not dare to say these things to the Sultan.”
“Take me with thee,” quoth a Bedawin; “if thou art afraid, I will speak. I only ask one thing, that thou shouldst begin by saying, ‘The elephant!’ Then the Sultan will ask, ‘What of the elephant?’ and I will reply, the elephant behaves in such wise.”
The Sheikh accordingly went one day with the Bedawin, and entered the Fasher on a Friday. On coming to the gate of the palace, they saw a personage ride out on horseback, with tambourines beating and trumpets sounding.
“Is that the Sultan?” said the bold Bedawin to his companion.
“No, it is one of his viziers.”
Then the orator began to tremble, and to say,— “How, then, is the Sultan?”
Immediately afterwards another personage came forth, surrounded by soldiers, dressed in brilliant garments, preceded by horsemen, and accompanied by music.
“That, at least, is our master!” quoth the Bedawin, stupified.
“No, it is only one of the grand viziers.”
The poor man then began to understand the danger of his position. His heart leaped, and he was afraid. At this moment the Ab galloped into the Fasher, surrounded by a crowd of horsemen, and with prodigious pomp. The roaring of the tambourines was deafening.
“How terrible is the Sultan!” exclaimed the Bedawin, who, on learning that he was still mistaken, wished the earth would open and swallow him up. Then the Sultan himself came forth amidst the crash of cymbals, the roaring of drums, and the trampling of horses. It seemed as if heaven and earth were coming together. The Sultan halted, and the soldiers ranged themselves in two lines. Then the Bedawin Sheikh advanced, and exclaimed aloud,— “May God protect our master, and make him victorious over his enemies!—The elephant!”
“What of the elephant?” said the Sultan.
The Sheikh winked at his companion, and whispered, “It is now thy turn to speak.” But the unhappy orator had not a word to say.
“Why,” exclaimed the Sultan, in a terrible voice, “what of the elephant?”
The Sheikh, seeing that he was to have no assistance, and fearing punishment, replied,—“The elephant—why, the elephant is unhappy because he is alone. We wish thee to give us another elephant to keep him company.”
“Let them have another elephant,” said the Sultan; and they accordingly departed, and returned to their tribe with a huge brute, bigger than the former one.
“What is this?” said the people; “we sent you to get rid of one nuisance, and you bring us another.”
“Ah! my friends,” said the orator, who now at length found his tongue, “there never was a man who has such presence of mind and neatness of expression as your Sheikh. Thank God, who has given you such a blessing!”
The second elephant was accepted, and no more was said.
Some poor devils of Wadaïans heard one day that honey was a marvellously sweet thing, and agreed to go to the Sultan and ask for a taste. They accordingly went to Warah, and, waiting till the prince came out, prostrated themselves, and explained the nature of their visit. The Sultan flew into a passion, and exclaimed,—“Do you mean to make fun of me by coming to talk of a thing of so little importance? Let a whole skinful be brought.” He was obeyed, and the poor fellows were ordered to eat the whole on pain of death. They soon began to be disgusted; their stomachs heaved; they could not go on. Then the Sultan ordered them to be shut up with the skin, and given nothing to eat until they had swallowed the whole.
Formerly the Sultans were equally simple with the peasants. Three men once raised three crops of onions, of red pepper, and of garlic, and each went with a camel-load to make a present to the Sultan. The latter, who did not know these vegetables in their natural shape, being told that they were condiments, was charmed with the handsome colour of the pepper, and put some into his mouth. He instantly felt a burning sensation, and exclaimed: “These people are rascals, and have come to poison me! let them be put in prison until they have eaten all that they have brought, and nothing else.” The order was executed, and the three peasants were kept in confinement for three years, when they were let out; two of them afflicted with dreadful diseases, and the third, who had fed on garlic, in good health.
Some insatiable smokers, who had no money left to buy tobacco, determined to go and ask the Sultan for some. The prince was angry, and ordered a huge pipe-bowl to be made, three cubits in height, and filled with tobacco, with ten tubes—the number of the beggars attached; and ordered them to smoke the whole. After a few whifs, however, they all fainted, and were sent away with a warning not again to make such absurd requests.
Formerly the Sultan of Wadaï was not allowed to drink milk; for, said the Wadaïans, if the Sultan drinks milk, what shall his subjects drink? At length, however, the prince took it into his head to have a milch cow; the people rose in insurrection and ordered him to get rid of it, and he was compelled to obey. This custom, however, is now abolished.
In great ceremonies the Wadaïans wear ample turbans, but the common head-dress is the tarboosh. Their chief garment is a loose gown, generally of black stuff, made of narrow stripes sewed together. Nearly every one carries a short sword, and a dagger tied to the arm above the elbow. When a man is appointed to any high post, the Sultan himself places a turban on his head.
In Wadaï the people do not enliven their amusements by music; the drums, tambourines, and trumpets are only used in public ceremonies. I have already mentioned the use of frontlets for the horses. These ornaments are much better worked in Darfur than in Wadaï. Indeed, all the trades have an inferior development in the latter country. The lances used are much less handsome; on the other hand, the Wadaïans are much braver than the Forians.
The costume of the women of Wadaï resembles that of the Forian women; but they do not wear rings in their noses, replacing them by pieces of coral or wood. Their handsomest ornament is the amchinga, elegantly made of a number of crescents of silver, with coral and amber.
The Wadaïan women have nearly always a toothpick in their hands, and scarcely ever leave off using it except during sleep. Their teeth are beautifully white, and their mouths deliciously sweet. They wear a cloth tied round their loins, and a kind of cape made of a piece of cloth, with a hole in the middle to cover their shoulders and their bosom.
In general the Wadaïan men are robust, but not so black as the Forians and Bagirmians. They do not disdain, as do the Forians, the white colour, although the European complexion is not to their taste. The whole nation is large and well developed. Young girls are obliged to abstain from much food, for fear of acquiring too great embonpoint. The women perform the greater part of the fatiguing labour. They go to the market with two baskets, which they carry poised on their shoulders like a pair of scales. They work in the fields, fetch wood or water, and gather rice, tamarinds, and karobs. It is the duty of the men to make war, to weave and spin, and deal in the larger articles of trade, as cattle and slaves.
In Darfur and Wadaï the men mix freely night and day with the women. Girls and married women do not scruple to pass their nights with those who please them. Nothing can prevent lovers from meeting. A Turguenak became enamoured of one of the concubine slaves of Sultan Saboun, and was beloved by her also; yet the Sultan was so fond of her that he had taken her with him on the Tamah war. She corrupted the slaves, men and women, who served and surrounded her, and escaped from the tent of the Sultan at night to meet her lover. But this came to the knowledge of Saboun, who put her to death, and gave to his Viziers and Ulemas all her accomplices, who were very beautiful. My father received two. “When,” he used to say, “Saboun told me to take my choice, I did not know which to prefer; as each passed before me she seemed more beautiful than the former. I was embarrassed; but, fearing to appear ridiculous by my indecision, I shut my eyes, and advancing thus, seized two at haphazard.” My father afterwards learned that one of these girls had long been in love with the Kamkolak Kidermy, and accordingly sold her to him for a horse worth four slaves, ten young girls of six spans, and a magnificent camel. The other, called Zoheirah, was beloved by my father for some time; but he sold her at Tunis because she misbehaved herself.
I have already related how the old women in Darfur introduce youths dressed as girls into harems. These intrigues, in my opinion, are caused by the system of having so vast a number of women as the property of one man. Evidently there is disproportion in this; and we must not be surprised if the women, under these circumstances, in the fullness of youth, undergo all kinds of dangers. It is customary in Wadaï not to force the affections of women. If a girl attaches herself to any one, her choice is left free; and if, out of ten suitors, one is distinctly chosen, the nine others are forbidden ever afterwards to address her, except as “my sister,” to which she replies, “my brother.” But if, after her first choice, she transfer her affections to any other of the nine, then is the beginning of jealousy and enmity. Now, it happened that two friends became enamoured of a beautiful girl, and requested her to choose between them. She did so, and the other said to her, “Thou art now my sister.” But, some time afterwards, she became weary of her first lover, and desired the other, whose passion also revived. But he feared, if he confessed his sentiments, to incur the reproaches of his friends and the hatred of his rival, and to be the cause of misfortune. He therefore took his friend apart, and said to him,—“Thou knowest that women are the causes of collision and struggles between men; learn that thy mistress wishes to separate from thee, and throw herself into my arms; but I fear to accept her, lest we should become enemies. If thou wishest to know the truth, I will seek an interview; and thou shalt hide thyself, and afterwards thou shalt be free to choose whether thou wilt abandon her with reproaches, or whether I shall go away and remain absent until she has forgotten me.” This plan was agreed upon, and the interview took place in the hearing of the first lover. The girl did not scruple to avow her new affection, declared that she repented of her first choice, said that love was replaced by hatred, and showed herself willing to abandon herself to new caresses. Upon this the hidden lover, unable to contain himself, rushed forward and stabbed her. Then the two friends agreed to cut her in pieces and bury her, which they did; and no one knew the truth until after the death of the murderer. Ah! how perfidious are women! May Heaven never, never forgive an unfaithful woman! The mercy of God be on the author of the following words:—
“Of women there are certainly some that are worth eighty she-camels; but there are others not worth the skin of a foal. May God, in his goodness, burn all unfaithful women in hell for ever!”[54]
I have already said that the Wadaïans are brave. This character is more strongly developed, of course, in the young men, when their heads are heated with inebriating drinks. Their conversation, at such times, becomes often coarse and brutal, and quarrels, in which blood is shed, often arise. Those who are especially distinguished for courage and pride are called Afrits, or devils. These men at once render themselves terrible by their murders and robberies. They frequently exercise their violence near the wells of Saboun, which are not far from the Fasher, and in more distant places their boldness is still greater. Whenever one of these Afrits loves a woman, he marries her in spite of all opposition. One of them declared his love for a young girl, and asked her in marriage; but she detested and refused him. He persisted, and went every evening, killing the suitors he found there. He thus frightened every one away, but without succeeding in winning her affections. She almost passed the marriageable age. However, one day, a stranger beheld her at the market-place, and loved her, and followed her, and accosted her, declaring his sentiments.
“In truth,” said she, “thou art a handsome fellow, and I love thee already; but, as the proverb says, ‘there is an obstacle in the way of the ass.’”
“Art thou married?”
“No.”
“What withholds thee, then?”
“What? why, one of those savage Afrits has forbidden any one to approach me.”
“Why does he not marry thee?”
“I do not love him, and will not have him.”
“Is he related to thee?”
“No! by Heaven!”
“Well, then, fear nothing, and I will release thee from him.”
“That is not so easy,” said she; “and yet, by Heaven, I am not a coward, and do not fear the Afrit! It is for thee that I fear, lest he assassinate thee.”
“Be easy on that point,” replied he; “but only show me thy dwelling.”
She did so; and at nightfall the stranger came, and they sat down, and began to talk quietly together, he sitting with his leg over that of the young girl. The Afrit soon came in, and saw them sitting together. The girl wished to move away, but her new lover kept her in her position, and continued the conversation. The Afrit then exclaimed, “Who allowed thee to come here?” but obtained no answer. He spoke twice more, and then, rushing forward, stabbed the stranger through the thigh, until he reached that of the girl. She tried to escape, but could not; and the Afrit, struck dumb by the phlegm of his rival, who still did not move, drew forth his weapon, and wished to escape. But he was now seized and cast to the ground, and humiliated, and compelled to swear that he would never again interfere with the girl, who was soon afterwards united in marriage with her deliverer. Similar adventures are of frequent occurrence in Wadaï.
A singular feature in the character of the Wadaïans is, that they are jealous of a mistress, but take no care to interfere with the conduct of their sisters or daughters. They even often seek to bring admirers to their sisters, by praising their beauty and physical qualities. And if any one is thus incited to come forward as a suitor, the brother pleads for him, and is angry if he be rejected. Sometimes the Wadaïans carry their complaisance so far, that they take friends to their wives, and leave them with them. The women themselves are licentiously inclined, and often have many lovers. In fact, throughout all Soudan, love seems to be the great occupation. It runs fiery through the veins of the blacks, as sap runs through the veins of trees. No one thinks it a duty to conceal the object of passion, except when danger may arise. Otherwise, he goes about publishing the name of her he loves, and shouting it in every ear. But let us now pause, for if we dwell too long upon one subject we shall engender weariness.
CHAPTER IX.
Arms in Soudan — Tactics — Emulation on the Field — Materials of Weapons — Archers — War-Song — Breeds of Horses — Education — Food — Price of Horses — Story of a Tamahan — Winged and Speaking Horses — Metempsychosis — Poets — Kings in War — Slave-hunts, manner of — The Firman — Collecting Capital — Recruits — Sultan of the Hunt — Sharing the Spoil — Other Regulations — Grain-Nests — Treatment of Slaves — Mortality — Justification of Slavery — Savage love of Country — Manners.
The people of Soudan do not, in general, possess muskets, or cannons, or fortresses. In battle, their horsemen are armed with the javelin and the sabre, and the footmen with the spear or the arrow. The latter has a buckler to protect himself, and the former a helmet or coat of mail, or a padded tunic. Horses are covered with thick housing to protect them against injury.
Each people has a certain traditional system of tactics, which it clings to, and will not alter or improve in any way. The Forians divide their army into five divisions,—the vanguard, the rear-guard, the main body, and the right and left wings. The vedettes and scouts are spread all around during the march. Every great functionary has a military character. The flags or standards are always placed in front of the Sultan, under the command of the king and a body of chosen men. The Forian flags are either red or white, and so are those of Wadaï, except that in the latter country the red are more common. The Forian Sultan is preceded by ten banners, and the Wadaïan by at least thirty, which are never lowered unless the prince is killed or taken prisoner. No Sultan must fly after a battle, so that in case of defeat he must be killed or taken prisoner. As long as the fight lasts, the drums do not cease a moment to beat.
On the eve of a battle, each party chooses some sign by which the soldiers are to be distinguished; as, for example, a band of bark round the right wrist. In the absence of this precaution, as soon as the mêlée begins, it would be impossible to know friends from enemies, for there are no uniforms and no distinctions of colour.
When the Forian troops charge an enemy they display great animation. The horsemen brandish their swords, and each chief of a Kardous, or squadron, sets up a song, to which his men reply. At the time of the revolt of Mohammed Kourra I heard an Emin sing these words:—“O-nas dio-ba-in,” which means, “The word which you have in you;” and the soldiers replied, Kel-boa—“Come, say it.” Then the chief went on, “O-nas dio-Keih,” and the soldiers answered, Kel-boa ye kel-boa—“Come, say it: ha! ha! say it.” In this way they worked up their courage, and each seemed to become an inexpugnable tower.
The armour of the Forians is of various kinds, consisting of casques with falls of mail, that cover the shoulders and protect the neck, or of mere head-pieces. Some horsemen have cuirasses covered with crocodiles’ skin; and, in the infantry, I have seen bucklers made of the same material. When a cavalier is fully armed and equipped, mounted upon a horse completely clothed with red, he does in reality present a terrible appearance, even alone; but a thousand men, thus arranged, form a really terrific spectacle. When a high-placed functionary has been removed, and another by intrigue substituted, the two generally consider themselves as enemies. When, therefore, a battle begins, the man who has been disgraced seeks out his rival, and cries:—Ya wendai Bism Illah,—“Come, comrade, on, in the name of God.” If the person thus challenged complies, and behaves with courage, no more is said; but, if not, the affair is reported to the Sultan, and the former occupant is restored to his place. Similar challenges take place between subjects who have never occupied any position. If one of them plays the poltroon, his wife generally asks for a divorce, and no one seeks his daughter or his sister in marriage.
Foot soldiers, when they go into battle, collect their drapery like a shawl round their waist, and tuck up their sleeves. Each man has a buckler and three, four, or five lances, one of which is a long pike, whilst the others are javelins for throwing. It was Zou-Yezen, a Hamyaritic prince, who first armed the tops of lances with iron. Before his time sharp horns were used. There are various kinds of spears used in Darfur, the shafts of which are sometimes made of ebony wood, and sometimes of hard roots of trees straightened by fire. The iron heads now used are of various forms, some of them being smooth, others serrated, others with heavy balls of iron, to increase the force of the blow. Formerly the people of Soudan used to have large bucklers as high as themselves; but these were found to be inconvenient, and small shields used with dexterity supply their place. The best are made of the skin of an aquatic animal called issins. Others are manufactured, as I have said, of the skin of the crocodile, or of the rhinoceros. The worst are those made of elephant-skin, which, though thick, are easily pierced by a lance. Bows and arrows are not used by the Muslim blacks of Soudan, but they have companies of archers composed of Pagan slaves, who form a redoubtable element in their armies. In the time of the revolt of Sheikh Kourra, it was these slave-archers who prevented, one evening after dark, the insurgents from penetrating into the dwelling of the Sultan. I was a witness of this scene. The archers, to the number of a thousand, overwhelmed the partisans of Kourra with a shower of arrows, and forced them to retreat with great loss. The archers do not aim straight at the enemy, but cause their arrows to describe a curve in the air. The heads are of the same form as those of the lances, and are often so slightly fixed to the reed that they are left in the wound. They are often poisoned. The bows are wonderfully small, scarcely more than a span in length, and the arrows are still shorter. The wood used is very hard, and the strings are made of the tendons of buffaloes. The quivers consist in a little sack, in which are carried sometimes as many as two hundred arrows.
When the infantry is ranged in order of battle, it sings various kinds of songs; for example, this one:—“Lellee Lellee, let us go. The dust of the battle rises in the east. Ask the buffalo if his helmet be brilliant. The buffalo is in the midst of our horsemen. Fear shame, soldiers; fear shame. The buffalo shall meet with his like.” This song, chanted in unison by a vast body of soldiers, appeared to me in the original very exciting, but, like all other songs, it loses by translation. The captains begin the first line, and the men take up the burthen. The corps of Fertyt, specially attached to the person of the prince, sing a song of which I could never obtain any translation. These slaves are in great number in Darfur, but spread throughout the country at separate stations.
Horses form, for the Soudan populations, one of the most precious articles of property. The Prophet said,—“To the manes of coursers shall be attached victory to the end of the world.” The Dongola and Egyptian breeds are much sought after in Darfur. The former have long legs, brilliant coats, and are generally black; but the Egyptian horses are better proportioned and more graceful, and are easily trained for war. They are generally bay. Those which are preferred are of middle height, with moderately long legs, slim and short barrels, broad buttocks, and well-developed chest. The grooms train them to singular habits, teaching them cleanliness during great ceremonies, and compelling them, when necessary, to remain for hours perfectly tranquil, like statues. If any horse ridden by the Sultan commits any act of impropriety, he is immediately dismounted and sent home to be beaten.
When I was in Darfur I often admired the elegance and grace of the steeds of the Sultan. On asking the grooms how they succeeded in producing these qualities, I was told that the animals were fed on green food from the neighbourhood of Mount Koussa, and on a kind of paste made of millet mixed with honey. Every morning also they drink warm milk.
The horses of Forian breed are abominable hacks, with round bellies and savage characters. I never saw such indocile brutes. It is almost impossible to keep them to any particular course. They are, however, very hard and sturdy, and capable of supporting immense fatigue.
But the best horses in Darfur are those of the Bedawin Arabs, which are directly derived from Arabia. They are carefully fed in the pasturages, given warm milk to drink, and constantly rubbed down with melted butter. The Bedawin, in his solitary plains, fasten for the night, to the leg of his horse, an iron shackle with a long chain, fixed to his bed. The horse, accustomed to attacks, to flights, to forays, and incursions of every kind, hears the slightest noise in the dark, and, if it be at all suspicious, neighs and stamps on the ground to wake its master. By day it is always piquetted near the tent. At whatever hour it may be, as soon as any cry of alarm is heard, the women of the tribe instantly saddle the horses, whilst the Bedawin gets ready his arms, so that, in the twinkling of an eye, there is a body of cavalry ready to ride out of the camp.[55]
The Arabs value their horses at extravagant prices, especially if they have acquired any reputation. Sometimes a four-year-old mare with its foal sells for the price of a hundred cows. The dearest horses are the runners of three kamins, or relays; for there are steeds which run races of one, two, or three kamins. Sometimes a horse is pitted to run three relays, and starts with ten competitors for the distance of an hour. Then there are ten other competitors ready to take up the race, and so on for another time. It often happens that a horse wins these three races successively. In Darfur and Wadaï there are sometimes found horses worthy of emulating the Arabs for their swiftness and vigour. The following narrative is curious, in reference to this subject:—An inhabitant of Dar-Tamah once bought a very young foal of noble blood, and trained it with most careful attention. When it was old enough he exercised it constantly, and found that it had no rival in speed. It happens that, between Tamah and Wadaï, there is a ravine or chasm in the earth, about two kosabah broad, that is to say, about six fathoms. The Tamahan resolved to peril his life, and see if he could leap this ravine. He succeeded several times, and, being now sure of his safety, began riding him to the border provinces of Wadaï, and hanging about the wells where the young girls used to come and fetch water. Whenever he perceived any one that pleased him by her beauty, he used to snatch her up and ride away with her. Her friends would pursue, thinking that the ravine would be an insurmountable obstacle to his flight. But the bold Tamahan always leaped the chasm and escaped in safety.[56]
In some countries of Soudan there exist very singular ideas relative to horses. Among others, it is said that a man had a magnificent courser, of whom he was passionately fond, and visited night and day. One night, however, he went softly, at an unaccustomed hour, to see him, and beheld great wings spreading out from his side. The man was petrified with fear, and the horse, suddenly closing up and concealing his wings, said,—“The first time that thou comest, without warning me of thy approach, thou shalt repent.” The people of Darfur, in fact, are persuaded that the swiftness of horses arises from their having real, but invisible, wings. They also believe that these animals have a language of their own, and possess certain human sentiments, as, for example, modesty. On certain occasions they throw great veils over their stallions and their mares.
A Forian possessed a horse which had often saved his life by his speed, and which he carefully tended. His wife died and he married again. The new wife sometimes gave the horse its ration mixed with dust, and left the litter untidy. The man, too, since his new marriage, no longer attended on his beast with the same care. One day he was in great danger and could not escape. He was made prisoner with his horse and reduced to groom it. He now carefully cleaned and attended on the animal, who one day said to him,—“This is the recompense of the man who neglects his horse.” The man was frightened and remained still, and the horse went on,—“Fear nothing, there is no harm. Wilt thou promise me, if I restore thee to liberty, always to have the same care of me that thou hast now?” “I promise it.” “Well, then, unloose me, mount, and fear not.” The Forian did as he was required, and succeeded, in spite of a pursuit, in escaping.
The Temourkeh have fancies of a different kind. They believe that, when one of them dies, after remaining three days in his tomb, he is transported to another country, and marries a new wife. The Massalit imagine that every one of them, after death, passes into the body of some animal—of a hyæna, for example, or a cat.
To return to the subject of horses. Bays, with white feet and a white star on the forehead, are often celebrated by poets, who improvise verses for the sake of reward, in the presence of the Sultan. They are generally nomadic Arabs; the blacks having little poetical taste. Sometimes, under learned princes, there have been Ulemas distinguished as poets. The Forians derive auguries from certain motions of their horses. If they stretch the fore legs abroad, victory is expected; but if the hind legs, defeat.
All these customs and ideas, which I have described as Forian, may be applied almost exactly to Wadaï, especially those which have reference to war. The Wadaïans, however, are less particular in their military adornments, and do not sing in battle.
The Fertyt do not possess horses—oxen are the only domestic animals they know. In most tribes the women act as beasts of burthen. When in war, they place their king on a kind of ebony stool, borne by relays of four men.
If they are defeated, they set his majesty down and leave him, for no Sultan must fly. However, according to ancient custom, no prince is killed in a mêlée, except by accident. If he be taken prisoner, he is generally treated with respect. Kadis, Ulemas, and musicians, are also spared, if taken, and set free. It is not customary, however, if free women and children are taken, to sell them as slaves, although Saboun did so, as an exemplary punishment, when he took Bagirmeh.
The Ghazwah, or slave-hunts, in Dar-Fertyt, and amongst the Jenakherah, are carried on in a different manner in Darfur and Wadaï. In the latter country, the Sultan sends one of his governors with a troop, chosen beforehand, to which no strangers attach themselves; but in Darfur things are managed differently. There, even a private individual, if he thinks himself capable of conducting a Ghazwah, demands a salatieh, and, if he obtains it, sets out with as many people as he can collect.
This is the way in which a complete Ghazia, or Ghazwah, is managed. He who can make a present to the Sultan, and who has some friend at court, goes to the Fasher in the first day of summer, some time before the beginning of the rains. The best offering to make to a Sultan is a horse ready bridled and saddled, with a slave to lead him. If the prince accepts the present, and permits the expedition, he gives to the solicitor a salatieh, that is to say, a tall lance, and delivers a permission of excursion, conceived, for example, in the following terms:—
“In the name of the Great Sultan, the refuge and the support of all, the glory of the Arab kings and of the non-Arab kings, master of the neck of all nations, sovereign of the two lands and the two seas, servant of the two holy cities, putting his hope in the God of justice and longanimity, the Sultan Mohammed Fadhl, the victorious, to all those who these presents may see, emins, warriors, shartai, damleg, and chiefs of our armies,
“We, Sultan favoured of God, sustained by his special grace, victorious Sultan, have gratified with our favours and our benevolence such an one, son of such an one, and have given to him a salatieh to conduct an expedition into Dar-Fertyt, and make a Ghazwah, in the direction of such a tribe. All those who may accompany him in his enterprise shall be free from blame on our part—in testimony of which the present firman has emanated from our sublime generosity and our noble bounties. Far, far, may all opposition be, all acts of malevolence, against this mandate. We have recommended to the bearer of this permission to act with justice towards those who may follow this expedition, and to conduct himself with the equity and the moderation which the fear of God inspires, as regards the portion of slaves that is to fall to his share. Salutations.”
Supplied with the firman of this kind, and with the salatieh, which confers the authority of chief of a Ghazwah, the solicitor leaves the dwelling of the Sultan, and, accompanied by one or two servants, places himself on the great square of the Fasher. There he crouches on a carpet which is spread upon the ground, and the salatieh is stuck up before him. Meanwhile a domestic beats a tambourine. People begin to collect from all sides and crowd around him, and learn that he has been named chief of a Ghazwah, and has obtained a firman. Merchants soon come forward with stuffs for garments. The chief buys as much as he pleases, according to the presumed profit of his expedition, and always on credit. The price varies according to circumstances. For example, when a merchant wishes himself to accompany the expedition, and the quantity of goods he has sold is worth only one slave at the Fasher, the chief of the Ghazwah agrees to deliver five or six slaves in the Dar-Fertyt itself; but if, on the contrary, the merchant does not choose to follow the expedition, and prefers waiting till it returns, he agrees to receive only two or three slaves. When the bargain is concluded, the master of the salatieh gives to the merchant a written acknowledgment. In this way he collects, not only garments, but horses, camels, asses, &c. Some chiefs, who inspire confidence, contract in this way for more than five or six hundred slaves.
While these preliminaries are going on, many people come and offer to associate themselves with the leader of the expedition; and he then causes to be transcribed several copies of his firman, and gives one to each, with a horse or camel for the journey.
He also points out to these, his first hunting companions, the road they are to take, and divides them into ten squads, each of which has a chief. The rendezvous is always beyond the southern limits of Darfur.
Each chief of a squad now takes a different route, and passes through the towns and villages beating a tambourine, collecting the inhabitants, communicating the contents of the firman, pointing out the conditions offered by the undertaker of the hunt, and promising, for example, that the owner of the salatieh will only take, at the first jebayeh, or division of spoil, the third of the slaves which each hunter has taken, and at the second division a quarter. Generally a certain number of young Forians, of poor families, join the expedition.
The master of the salatieh also stops in the places which he traverses to collect companions, and having rested awhile in his own village, proceeds to the general rendezvous. Once there, he takes the title of Sultan, and composes a kind of court out of those to whom he has delivered copies of the firman. There have been sultans of Ghazwah who have found themselves at the head of nine or ten thousand people or more. His court is a perfect imitation of the court of the real Sultan. He delivers clothes to his body-guard, and distributes to them his camels, his asses, and his horses. Sometimes a great many people come flocking in without having been recruited; but all are obliged to admit the absolute authority of this temporary sultan.
The rules of distribution of the products of the hunt are fixed and known. All slaves taken without resistance fall to the lot of the sultan, amongst whose perquisites, likewise, are the presents given by the kings of the adjoining provinces. The expedition pushes on as far as it can, and then one evening it is announced that the division of profit is to be made the next day. This division takes place as follows:—The sultan causes a circular enclosure, or zeribeh, with two openings, to be made. The people of the Ghazwah come early in the morning with the slaves they have caught. If the sultan is reasonable, he takes only a third, but he sometimes exacts one-half. The zeribeh is made of prickly branches. The sultan sits in the middle, and his servants station themselves at the issues. Then all the slave-catchers, one by one, bring in their lots, the number of which is immediately written down. If there are only two, the sultan takes the better, and the other is left to his owner, who receives a paper, certifying that he has submitted to the law of partition. He who has only taken one slave is put aside until another in the same predicament comes, when the sultan takes one and leaves the other to be divided. All those kept by the sultan remain in the zeribeh. This ceremony lasts sometimes ten days, or even a month.
When the division has been made, the master of the salatieh pays his debts, and then continues the hunt, returning, however, towards Darfur. When within a few days’ march there is a second division made.
The sultan is entitled to every disputed slave, and to the property of all who die, without direct heirs, on the road. He, however, is obliged to take from his share the presents to be made to the Sultan and to the great people who have assisted him in obtaining his privilege.
The master of a salatieh, when the excursion has been fortunate, easily acquits all expenses, pays his debts, makes the necessary presents, and has a hundred slaves left for himself. Besides this, the horses, the camels, the asses, and all the harness and baggage brought back, remain as his property. He resumes possession of everything he has distributed, except the garments. In fine, each individual returns to his country with the booty which, by the grace of God, he has been able to take.
The leader of a hunt always treats with consideration the people who compose his court, and sometimes does not take from them any of their share. On the other hand, it is they who watch over his safety, and attend to him. At each halt they get ready a shelter for him, and send people forward to prepare each station. For this purpose, they bring with them from Darfur skins of animals, millet-stalks, and poles sufficient to make every day an enclosure or dwelling for the sultan. These materials are carried from camp to camp. In fine, the whole ceremonial of this expedition resembles the march of a real Sultan.
When the troops surround one of the stations of the Fertyt, and the inhabitants yield without resistance, the sultan takes the chief as a prisoner, treats him honourably, gives him a dress, and afterwards liberates him; but he seizes on all the grown men, the youths, the women, and girls, leaving only the old people and those who do not seem to be in a state to undergo the fatigues of a journey. The leader of a hunt may form or break alliances with tribes who agree to become tributary to Darfur; but he is obliged to act according to the rules of justice and equity. At any rate, he is induced to behave well towards his subordinates, by the hope of taking them along with him another year.
One of the duties of the officers of the sultan is to search out the nests in which the Fertyt hide their grain; for, finding themselves constantly attacked by their neighbours, these people conceal their provisions in the trees so carefully, that an unaccustomed traveller would never suspect their existence. They choose for this purpose trees which are very leafy and tufty. They cut a certain number of branches, with which they make a kind of large hurdle; on this they spread, first, a bed of leaves, and then a bed of millet-husks; then they build thereon a little conical hut, in which they pile their grain, and, closing up the opening, leave it until they require it for their use. The thickness of the leaves, and the intricacy of the branches, entirely conceal these aërial barns. The whole country is covered with monstrous trees growing in forests, so that it is not easy to discover these stores.
The Fertyt who inhabit the highlands bury their grain in matmourah, or deep pits, lined with millet leaves. The Forians also keep their corn in matmourah, though the rich deposit their harvests in vast sheds.
The men who obtain permission to go upon slave-hunts have their itinerary marked down beforehand, and it is forbidden to overpass the limits set. This is done to prevent different Ghazwah from meeting and fighting one with the other. The Sultan sometimes delivers sixty or seventy salatieh in the course of a year; but many of these expeditions are not important in number. They sometimes consist of as few as fifteen men. These hunts bring into the hands of the Forians a considerable number of slaves. If they all arrived in Darfur, the country would be overstocked; but many of them die of ill-treatment during the journey, or are killed. If a slave, from fatigue or other reasons, determines not to proceed, he sits down and says, “Kongorongo,” that is to say, “Kill me.” He is instantly killed with clubs in presence of his companions, in order to frighten them, and deter them from imitating his example. Women are treated in the same manner. Many of the prisoners die of fatigue by the way, and others of diarrhœa, caused by change of food. Sometimes epidemic diseases, such as dysentery, seize the whole flock, and nearly all perish. Two or three out of twenty are often all that survive. On arriving in Darfur many also perish from the effects of the climate, though such as are treated with gentleness, and are submitted to a proper regimen, generally survive. Acclimated slaves sell for a much higher price than those who have been recently brought.
But, in any case, this sudden change of condition exposes the slaves to dangerous diseases. Moreover, melancholy seizes them, especially if they fear to be sold to stranger Arabs. They are persuaded that these Arabs are in want of meat, and come and buy them for food, and to use their brains for soap, and their blood for dyeing garments red. This belief is deeply implanted in the minds of all the slaves, and the Forians take advantage of it to reduce the indocile by fear. It is sufficient to threaten to sell them to the Jellabs to bring them to a sense of duty. The slaves do not get quit of their fear until they have been some time in the hands of the Arabs; but, during the whole length of the journey, they remain in continual terror. If we add to this cause the excessive fatigue of the march, the extremes of heat and cold in the deserts, it will not appear surprising that they die by thousands on the way. Only the very strong or the very fortunate reach as far as Egypt. I have seen Jellabs leave Wadaï with a hundred slaves, and lose them all by cold; and others have been deprived of still greater numbers by heat and thirst; whilst others, again, out of a single flock, find not one wanting. All this depends on the will of the Most High.
Our holy law permits the sale and exportation of slaves, but on the express condition that we should act with the fear of God before our eyes; which sentiment, indeed, should be the guide of all our actions. The reasons by which slavery is justified are these:— God has commanded his Prophet, the Prophet of Islam, to announce the Divine law to men, to call them to believe in the true God, and to employ the force of arms to constrain unbelievers to embrace the true faith. According to the Divine word itself, war is the legitimate and holy means to bring men under the yoke of religion; for as soon as the infidels feel the arms of Islam, and see their power humiliated, and their families led away into slavery, they will desire to enter into the right way, in order to preserve their persons and their goods. If they resist, and are obstinate in their unbelief, it is necessary to march in arms against them. However, before resorting to this extreme means, we must invite them to submit to the law of Islam, and warn them many times on the misfortunes they will bring upon themselves by their incredulity.
But the Prophet has also authorised the ransom of prisoners. “After the fight,” he says, “you may give liberty to prisoners or accept a ransom for them, in order to put a stop to the calamities of war. As for those who obstinately repel my law, and reject the religion of Islam, offer them the choice between war and the obligation of an annual tribute, by which they may buy security and life. If they take up arms against you, whoever is made captive shall be sold.” Nevertheless, all men, as children of Adam, are equal; the only difference being, that some have adopted the faith of Islam, and others a different, that is, an erroneous faith.
The inhabitants of Muslim Soudan, in their excursions against the idolaters, do not observe what is prescribed by the word of God, and never call upon them before the attack to embrace Islamism. They rush suddenly on the tribes of the Fertyt and Jenakherah, and, without preliminaries, without appeal to faith, without pacific attempts at proselytism, they assail, combat, take them as slaves, and sell them. But the fact of capture once accomplished, these people, being idolaters, it becomes lawful for Muslims to sell them. He who has acquired possession of a slave, man or woman, is bound to conduct himself towards him or her according to the principles of justice and religion. He must not exact from his slaves too great an amount of work. He must feed them with the food which he prepares for himself and his family, and he must clothe them with care; for a slave is likewise the creature of God.
Captives are treated in exactly the same manner in Darfur and Wadaï, but there is a difference in the way in which slave-hunts are carried on. In the former country, although the authority comes direct from the Sultan, he has nothing to do with the details. But in Wadaï, where there is greater respect for the sovereign power, a general is chosen to perform a Ghazwah, and nearly the whole product goes into the hands of the Sultan. The slaves taken on these occasions are all equally without belief in God, without knowledge of a Prophet or revelation, without religion or civil law. They adore blocks of stone, and build chapels for these divinities, and make offerings to them of lances and rods of iron. I had once a slave from Dar-Binah, who, hearing mention of God, observed that his God was much greater than ours. I asked him what he meant, and he said his God was so large, holding his hands at a certain distance the one from the other. I told him that there was only one God for all the world, for all countries, and all climates; that he was great, powerful, and invisible; and I repeated these words until my slave understood them. The ignorance of these people, and their want of authoritative traditions, render it easy to instil a new religion into them. I have seen a young girl learn the Muslim profession of faith the very day of her capture, and repeat it without emotion or surprise.
These people are wonderfully ignorant, and only learn that there are other men on the face of the earth besides themselves by the periodical appearance of the Ghazwah. They have many singular customs; among others, they are very particular in preventing marriage within certain degrees of consanguinity. This is more remarkable, because both sexes constantly mix together nearly entirely naked. Women and men wear only a little apron, or cover themselves with leaves. By what inspiration have they been able to establish and preserve more rigid restrictions than Muslims?
All these people lead a poor and miserable life; yet they passionately love their country, and cling to the place which has given them birth. If they leave their villages and their huts, or are taken away into slavery, their thoughts and their desires carry them constantly back to their country. In their childlike simplicity they often fly away from their masters, to endeavour to return to their miserable dwelling-places; and, when they are pursued, they are always found toiling back on the direct road. They are so simple-minded, that although every year their country is ravaged by slave-hunts, those that escape always return to the old spot and reconstruct their villages, and wait until they are again disturbed.
I have already said that they take one precaution, namely, to hide their store of grain in the trees. Some also build their dwelling-places there, cutting out a space amidst the branches, and constructing a conical hut, well secured against the rain. To this nest the Fertyt and his wife climb up by means of the nobs and projections of the trunk. Sometimes a single tree bears the grain-store and the hut; but they are generally separate.
These savages have wonderful skill in certain arts. The shafts of their javelins and lances are admirably polished; and the ebony stools they make would do credit to the workshops of the most civilised nations. But, when we consider their miserable existence, and how they are deprived of all that contributes to the enjoyment of life, such as agreeable food and proper garments, we must class them among the lowest savages. Glory be to the Eternal, who has distributed societies in various forms, according to his pleasure!
CHAPTER X.
Stay in Darfur — Sheikh desires to depart — Presents of Saboun — Inspectors — A Fair in the Desert — A Guide — A Blood-feud — The Well of Daum — Hostile Tribe — A Flag of Truce — Attack — An Interview — A Camel for a Camel — A Murder — Harassing March — The Tibboo-Reshad — An Odd Sultan — Fresh Persecution — Hungry Majesties — Loss of Three Slaves and an Ass — The Sheikh in Love — Departure — Tibboo Camels — Killing the Devil — Character — Thirst of the Desert.
When I arrived in Wadaï, my father, as I have said, had departed for Tunis. He thought it was my fault that I had delayed so long to come and join him; for he had written to the Sultan of Darfur and the Fakih Malik, praying them to allow me to depart. Confiding, therefore, the care of his house, his children, and his crops, to my uncle Zarouk, he had departed. This annoyed me much, and I resolved not to lay down the staff of the traveller, but to hasten after my father. The kindness of Sultan Saboun, however, made me stay. He sent me as presents many fine horses, beautiful slaves, and robes of price, which softened my sorrow. But as Ahmed-el-Fasi had succeeded my father in the post of vizier, and was a personal enemy, I soon found that he was undermining me. The Sultan began to look at me with coldness, and his presents ceased.
On the other hand, my uncle Zarouk seized on the revenue of my land, and gave me only sufficient to prevent my dying of hunger. He forbade me all interference in the management of my father’s property, telling me that I should spend it foolishly. For these reasons I was soon disgusted with Wadaï, and asked permission of the Sultan to leave the country and depart for Fezzan. The yearly caravan was preparing to start. The permission I required was easily accorded by means of the Shereef Ahmed. I soon got ready, bought water-skins, provisions, and other necessary articles, and the day was at length fixed. Then I begged of Sultan Saboun some camels to carry my baggage; but he only sent me one young one, incapable as yet of undergoing the fatigue of travelling and carrying a burden. I complained aloud; but the Shereef Ahmed abused me for my greediness, and said the Sultan owed me nothing. I suppressed my disappointment, and exchanged the young camel and a little additional money for a strong one, and thereupon left Warah. But the caravan had scarcely reached the district of the Beni-Mahamyd, on the edge of the desert, when some messengers from Saboun brought me as a present from him three young slave-girls, a male slave, two excellent camels, and a fat bull, with which to make cadyd, or dried meat. We killed the bull at once, and began to prepare the cadyd, giving thanks to the Sultan. When the meat was dried we filled our skins once more and departed. We had already received the visit of the inspectors, whose business it is to see that we are not taking away any free persons into slavery. Every slave in the caravan, young and old, was questioned individually. The inspectors liberate every one who can show himself to be of free origin, or prove that he was a Muslim before he was taken; also, any slave that may have been fraudulently taken from his owner.
For five days at the outset of our journey we traversed great plains of pasturage, where the Mahamyd wander with their flocks. At the end of this time we reached a well, at which it is customary for the Arabs, even Bidegats from the north-east of Wadaï and other wandering tribes, to encamp and meet the caravan,—holding a kind of fair,—selling or letting out to the Jellabs, or the travellers, provisions, camels, utensils for the journey, skins, ropes, &c. God is my witness that I forget the name of the well. We halted there two days, and the camels were turned loose to feed.
Five days more took us to the well of Daum, so called from the trees of that name that surround it. Now it happened that our guide, or caravan master, named Ahmed, was an old man, who had passed the vicissitudes of this life. He belonged to a tribe of the Tibboos, named in Fezzan the Tibboo-Reshad,—or Tibboos of the Mountains. Ahmed had formerly killed a member of another tribe; and ever since the people had been waiting for the opportunity of vengeance. After the accident, the murderer had fled to Dar-Seleih. Here he remained ten years, not daring to return to his tribe; but at length the love of home became too strong, and he desired to see his country, and the huts thereof, with his ancient dwelling-place. He believed that in ten years his visit would be forgotten; and he departed with our caravan as a guide, leaving a comfortable position in Wadaï, where he had amassed wealth, which, along with his age, produced him great respect, and allowed him to fear nothing but God.
When he started with us he had with him more than a hundred and thirty persons, all relatives. The rest of the caravan was composed of fifteen Wadaïans and five Arabs, myself, a man of Tripoli, named the Reis Abdallah; a Fezzani, Mohammed Khayr Yasir; another Fezzani, the Seid Ahmed, from the village of Zouylah; and one named Khalyl, of Tripoli. In proceeding towards the well of Daum we lost our way in the desert, and fearing, if we moved on, that we should only lose time, we halted, made our camels kneel, and buried our water-skins, as deep as possible, beneath the baggage, to preserve them from the heat of the sun. Our caravan started, Ahmed took with him a certain number of his cousins, and searched through the desert to the right and to the left, seeking for the well which we ought by this time to have reached. They remained a long time absent, and the day was far advanced when they returned. Their faces were grey with dust; but they brought joyful tidings, namely, that the well was near at hand. So we urged on our camels, and at last beheld the daum-trees in the distance. Every one began to cry out, “There they are! there they are! Those are the trees under which we are to rest this day!” We had scarcely uttered these words, when we beheld in front of us a troop of the Tibboos, called Turkman-Tibboos, and felt alarm. They rarely come to meet caravans, for they station towards Libya, divided into peoples of varying numbers, each with a Sultan, or king. The tribe that had met us had its principal station at a place called Marmar. They had known, for two or three months, by means of a traveller from Wadaï, that the master of our caravan was to be Ahmed, against whom they had a blood-feud; and it was for this reason that they waylaid us on our journey.
They stood right in our path, and sent forward a man on a camel, who galloped rapidly towards us, as swift as a horse. It is marvellous to see how skilfully these Tibboo tribes manage their dromedaries, or riding-camels. They train and exercise them like horses, to numerous delicate manœuvres, and have no other rein but the zimâm, or light cord, which by one end is tied to a hole pierced in the moving edge of the animal’s nostril. Nearly all these marauding Tibboos are clothed in sheep-skins with the wool on. He who advanced towards us had the litham over his face; that is to say, part of the stuff of his turban was wrapped three or four times round his head and visage, so that the eyes only were to be seen. When he was near to us he cried out, in his own language,—“Ho! people of the caravan, the Sultan is coming with his soldiers to the well. He forbids you to approach it. Know that you shall only do so when you have given up your guide to be killed, in expiation of the murder of one of our brothers. What are your intentions? Tell me, that I may inform the Sultan.”
One of the Tibboos of our caravan translated what the messenger said, and we all decided at once that we would not deliver up Ahmed to his enemies, and that if the Tibboos asked only for a rope’s end they should not have it. “Retrace thy steps,” said we to the envoy, “and tell thy master that we have nothing to do with him—that we have no one to give up. Go!”
The messenger galloped swiftly away to report our answer, and the Sultan prepared to attack us. Then the Tibboos, who formed part of our caravan, separated from us, and, with the exception of Ahmed and his family, went off to some distance. Our party, counting Ahmed, only contained twenty-five individuals,[57] not counting the slaves, who were in great numbers. As we approached the well, the Tibboos advanced in a mass, all mounted two-and-two on about sixty or seventy camels. They rushed towards us, furiously casting their javelins. We, that is to say the five Arabs, waited for their approach, and fired a volley at them. Surprised, they turned back and fled like beaten wolves. We remained masters of the well, and encamped there. We drank, and allowed our camels to pasture on the wild herbage of the neighbourhood.
We thought that these savage Tibboos, whom we had so easily put to flight, had returned to their dwelling-places, and we rested at our well for two whole days; but, on the third, we suddenly heard loud cries and frightful imprecations. We sent to see what was the matter, and saw four camels resting near a body of armed people. Near them was our guide Ahmed, who stood amidst his people and the Wadaïans of our caravan. With the armed strangers was an old man, who seemed to be their chief. He had a piece of carpet tissue rolled round his head, four or six fingers in breadth, and about a cubit long. This old man was crouching down, like a dog or a hyæna, on his heels. The chief of the Wadaïans said to him,—
“Wherefore dost thou return? Thou hadst departed. What dost thou want? What dost thou expect?”
“Know,” was the reply, “that I am the Sultan of these deserts; and that I have as many soldiers as you can count. What do I want? I come to advise you to deliver up Ahmed, if you wish to depart without blows or wounds. I know that you and I are not at war, but if you refuse my request there will be danger. That Ahmed slew my cousin, whom I loved as if he had been the son of my mother. It is my duty to avenge my cousin, and cleanse myself from the shame of leaving that murder unpunished.”
“But,” said the Wadaïan chief, “art thou not afraid of being killed as thy cousin was killed?”
“I have no fear. He who kills me will be killed in his turn. We never forget this duty—never abandon the vengeance of blood, though we should be hacked to pieces with a knife.”
At these words of the obstinate old chief, Ahmed flew into a great rage, and insulted him, and was going to kill him. We restrained Ahmed; but, taking advantage of the agitation of all present, he slipped behind the Tibboos, and hamstrung the Sultan’s camel. Then the Sultan said to him,— “This, too, thou shalt dearly pay for. My camel shall be avenged; and I will yet hamstring many of thy camels. As for you all, not a moment of repose shall you have. I shall be ever at your heels to torment you.” These words now irritated the chief of the Wadaïans, who gave the old Sultan a heavy blow with his whip over the loins, and said,—“Be off, go to the devil, and do as thou pleasest! May Heaven confound thee, and he who begat thee!”
The Sultan got up without wincing, and marched off with his men, affecting an air of contempt, and stifling his anger.
The day passed away. We filled our skins; arranged our luggage; but next morning, just as we were about to load the beasts of burden and get ready to march, the cry was heard in the caravan: “Wait, wait; one of the Wadaïan camels has disappeared!” We paused; and presently afterwards louder cries arose. The caravan was in the greatest state of alarm; every one inquired what was the matter; and at last we learned that the Turkman-Tibboos had not only stolen a camel, but had seized one of our Wadaïans and slaughtered him. We divided at once into two parties, one of which hastened to the place where our companion had been slain, whilst the other remained to guard the slaves, the baggage, and the Camels. We found the victim bathed in blood, and struggling in the convulsions of death. In the distance we saw a cloud of camels, each with two men on its back, their faces shrouded in black lithams. They looked like crows perched upon camels. They managed their beasts with wonderful cleverness, and horses are not more docile and eager in the field of battle.
One of these Tibboos came forward to our party and cried: “Whither are you going? what do you expect to do? For the camel of which you deprived us by ham-stringing yesterday we have taken a better one. The price of the lash with the whip is the life of one of your best men—that one who lies killed there. But this is not all; you will surely repent; and if it were not for your guns we would ride down on you and cut you all to pieces.”
We answered by firing on the troop in the distance; and they instantly fled, until they were like black spots on the horizon.
As for the Tibboos who originally formed part of our caravan, they remained thenceforward separate from us, marching alone. We were very much troubled and disquieted, fearing a sudden attack. We calculated all chances and raised the camp, marching away from the well; but the Tibboos accompanied us afar off, now and then making a false charge. They were present all the day long, now approaching, now flying, manœuvring all round, till the black night drew on. Then we halted, needing repose; but the furious Tibboos left us no peace. In spite of the darkness, one portion of these kept constantly disturbing us, whilst the other portion slept. Their object was to wear us out; and as we were few in numbers we could only get a very little rest. We knew that if any one of us were taken prisoner by the Tibboos he would instantly be killed. We dared not make reprisals, even if one of them had come amongst us; for we knew that this would exasperate them into a general attack. In their eyes, to kill a man is nothing. We resolved on a system of passive resistance, merely repelling their attacks. So we marched on for twenty days in this dreadful state, ever in uncertainty and fear, until we came to the territories of another Sultan,—the country of the Tibboo-Reshad, or Tibboos of the Mountains. This is an arid region, covered with wells: the vegetation is meagre and rare.
But we were now, at length, free from disquietude, and could rejoice at being delivered from our enemies. It was midday when we entered the territory of the Tibboo-Reshad; but we continued our march, and towards evening halted. We now turned out our camels to graze, having no further fear of the rapacity of the Turkmans; but, as the sun was setting, we beheld approaching us whole swarms of the Tibboo-Reshad, who surrounded us like a cloud, though at a little distance. As each group arrived it alighted and encamped near the previous comers. We were watching this movement tranquilly, when we heard in the distance the sound of small tableh, or tambourines; upon which all the new-comers began crying: “Here comes the Sultan!” Presently a very common individual, with his wife behind him, came mounted on a camel. This was the only woman present. On reaching his people they saluted him, and helped his queen to dismount. Then they fixed up four stakes, and surrounded them with a melayeh; making a miserable little tent for their majesties. A Tibboo came forward and said pompously: “People of the caravan, come and do homage to the Sultan!” We went; and when we drew near this caricature of royalty, we were ordered to sit down in three rows. An individual, dressed in a sheep-skin, announced himself a dragoman, and stood in front of us to convey the gracious commands of his sovereign. It appeared that he expected a good present; and told us that he wished to eat meat, which he had not done for a long time, and that he expected us to prepare a meal for the whole of his people. “Mind, be careful in the cookery,” he added; “let all be good and soon ready.” We answered that his commands should be complied with.
Whilst we were at work, the Sultan and his wife came out of their tent and drew near to us, so that I could examine them at my leisure. The Sultan was an old man,—decrepit, dry, lank, with thin beard, hollow cheeks, awkward gait, and dressed in a blue shirt, like that sometimes worn in Egypt. His countenance was wrapped in a black litham, so that he looked like a Copt in an ill-temper. In his left hand he carried a miserable lance with a broad head; and in his right a forked stick, used commonly by the Tibboos to drive their camels and push aside the branches of trees. As for the Sultana, she was a stunted old lady in a rumpled dress, and looked comically ugly. Both these potentates prowled through our tents without addressing a word of politeness to any one. When the supper was prepared, which was by nightfall, they and their troop ate heartily, and expressed their satisfaction by ordering a similar repast to be got ready next day before the rising of the sun.
All this was not very pleasant; and we passed a short, uncomfortable night. We expected, after breakfast, however, to get away without further trouble; and, indeed, the strangers allowed us to depart and travel through the day. But at sunset the Sultan appeared again with his Tibboos, encamped near us, and claimed supper again. We began to fear that this famished Sultan would devour all our provisions. In the morning, having fed him once more, we proceeded over a rocky road, and by night reached a valley between three mountains, which we were told was the metropolis of that kingdom. Of course we had a banquet to prepare, not only for him and his escort, but for all his people. The hungry wretch, hearing that we had been attacked, had come to meet us, though, probably, with no other object than gormandising in this manner. There was no help. We had to feed the whole people during our stay, which we were obliged to prolong a little to take in a fresh provision of water.
The huts of the Tibboo-Reshad are set up at the foot of the mountains. The country appears sad and miserable, the only riches being some small flocks of sheep and goats, of which the owners drink the milk: it is their great luxury. The only trees are the seyal (Mimosa seyal of Forskall) and some daums, the fruit of which is eaten by the Tibboos. When a caravan passes, and a camel dies of fatigue, these people seize the carcass and divide the flesh, preparing cadyd from it. The day of our departure, in the morning, just as we were about to start, I perceived that one of my slaves was missing. He had escaped during the night, taking with him two slave-girls, probably in order to sell them. We put off our journey a day; but I spent money uselessly in endeavouring to get back the fugitives. This, and other misfortunes, suggested to me the inflection, that when a man refuses the good that is offered him, he necessarily is forced to repent afterwards. When the idea of this unlucky journey presented itself to me, Sultan Saboun tried to dissuade me from it, advising me to remain in Wadaï until the return of my father; but I was obstinate, and suffered in consequence.
The first of my tribulations was the loss of an excellent ass, which I prized much. I used to ride it, and preferred it to a camel. Not very long after we set out there was a frightful plain of sand, which fatigued our beasts very much. I knew my ass carried me well, and we often got a good way ahead. So, encouraged by this, I sat down to rest, and allowed the whole troop to get a long way ahead of me, thinking it would be easy to catch it up. When I tried, however, having miscalculated, I found this not easy, and only succeeded in reaching the rear-guard with great trouble. Now it happened that behind the camels were marching numerous female slaves, one of whom was of extraordinary beauty—a very pearl. My ass, which was very tired, ran up to her, and placed itself by her side, as if to ask the succour of her benevolence, showing her how fatigued it was. I wished to lure it away; it grew obstinate; I kicked it with my heels; it stumbled. The young girl and the other slaves began to laugh at my plight, and say,—“Take away thy ass; go far from us, and allow us to walk in peace.” It was impossible for me to overcome the brute’s obstinacy; so I got down and gave it a kick in the belly, whereupon it fell dead, as if I had struck it with a knife. I remained stupified for awhile; but soon took off its trappings, put them on my shoulders, and with great difficulty reaching one of my camels, mounted it.
But my mind remained full of the beauty of the slave-girl, and I began to inquire of what country she was, and who was her master. It was told me that she belonged to one of our Tibboos, named Tchay; and I at once went and proposed a bargain. “I will not sell my slave,” said he, “except for four other slaves of the same age; that is, I shall not sell her at all. I intend her to be the governess of my house; I am not married; she shall be my wife.” I insisted, however, and the Tibboo at length agreed to give her to me for the most beautiful of my women, with a young virgin slave and a stallion-camel. At nightfall, accordingly, he sent her to me, and I sent the camel and my two slaves. When, however, I led my new acquisition to my tent, I perceived at once that it was not the one I had seen. This one appeared detestable to me. I was in great distress, and sent a man to the Tibboo to explain the mistake. But he answered that he had no slave but that one; that a bargain was a bargain; and that he meant to abide by what had been done. This embarrassed me; but after much praying and begging, and many messages, I obtained my two slaves back in exchange for his one; but he refused obstinately to give me back my camel. Then I began to seek for the girl who had so fascinated me, and soon learned that she belonged to another Tibboo, who loved her passionately, and who was loved by her in turn; and that not for her weight in gold would he part with her.
When we were about to start, once for all, from the Three Mountains, we received a message that we were expected, each of us, to give a measure of dokhn (millet) to his majesty the Sultan, and were obliged to comply. The grain was emptied out into a skin and carried away. We thought this was the last extortion; but the Sultan himself now appeared and began to ferret about our tents and baggage, appropriating whatever he took a fancy to, cords, baskets, &c., making presents to himself, and murmuring,—“I am the Sultan of this country, the master of this route; whoever refuses me anything shall not depart.” No sooner was this visit satisfactorily concluded, than his mercenary queen came to take her share of the spoils; and then the common Tibboos, each of whom pretended to be a king’s son. Thus no apparent object of any value was left us. We came into the country rich, and we left it poor. For myself, I departed almost with tears in my eyes, thinking of the male slave who had escaped, and the girls he had taken with him.
We now entered on the desert, by which we were to approach Catroun, the first town on the borders of Fezzan. A hundred and fifty of the Tibboo-Reshad accompanied us a little in the rear. If we forgot a knife, or wooden cup—as caravans always do—they were ready to snap everything up; and if a camel fell, they were near to seize on the carcass. When one of our beasts of burden showed signs of knocking up, indeed, we had to comply with the customs of the desert—namely, to abandon our own beast, and hire a new one of the Tibboos. The old one is often kept by them, and fed and nourished into a useful animal again.
The Tibboos will not allow their hired camels to carry a single pound above the weight agreed at the outset. They are very careful of their beasts. The man whose camel I was obliged to hire walked in the morning in front of his beast, leading it by the bridle, plucking herbs as he went along, and feeding it; after midday he left the bridle, and went hither and thither collecting food to give it at halting time. In this way the camels of the Tibboos are always kept in good health and strength, whilst those of the caravans become emaciated and worn out.
These people are very simple and ignorant. One of our people, named Abd-Allah, had a gold watch, which he used to hang by a branch of a tree when he rested in the shade. At the last station in the Tibboo country fatality decreed that he should leave it suspended. The savages came as usual to search about, and saw what they imagined to be a lump of precious metal swinging from a branch. One of them seized it with joy; but suddenly heard a noise and put it near his ear. Immediately he imagined that there was a devil inside, and dashing it against the branch of a tree, took to flight with his companions into the desert When Abd-Allah came back, therefore, to look for his watch, he found only the fragments. Cursing the time he had stayed there, he pursued his journey until the evening, and then inquired among the Tibboos who had done this thing. One came forward and boasted that he had dashed the devil to pieces; so Abd-Allah made a note of him, and on arriving at Mourzouk cited him before the Kadi, and compelled him to pay damages to the extent of forty dollars.
The Tibboos are the most ceremonious people in the world. When they meet, they squat down one opposite the other, looking serious and calm, well wrapped up in their lithams, with a lance in one hand and a buckler in the other. They then growl out an interminable series of compliments, after which they talk of business, and often end with a regular fight. If, for example, one of them alludes, by way of reproach, to any loss he has sustained from the others, blows are sure to follow. They are the most avaricious of men, and will strip a whole caravan for a bit of leather.
We were ten days in crossing the desert that separated us from Fezzan. It is without water. We travelled several hours after night and before morning, in order to avoid the torment of heat and thirst. We hastened on as rapidly as possible. On our last night’s march most of the travellers had no water left, and some had only a very small quantity. I had still four skins left, and I had had the good idea of enclosing two of my skins in the guerfehs, or large leather bags, to prevent evaporation by the sun; the other two were fastened to my camel. During the last night we marched hard until worn out with fatigue, and then halting, each slept where he could. Before closing my eyes I gave drink to such of my slaves as were thirsty; and then laid my head between my two skins. Near me lay Abd-Allah with his slaves, who drank all my water in the night, and I complained in the morning without obtaining redress.
My favourite slave was then one of the girls whom I had given with a camel to a Tibboo, as above mentioned, when I was bewildered with desire for another. About this time the poor thing was seized with what is called “the thirst of the desert,” or shôb. She had an unappeasable craving for drink; but the more water she drank the more she wanted. I feared for her life; but a Bedawin, named Khalyl, who was one of the caravan, perceiving my distress, said to me: “Give her some melted butter to drink, and her sufferings will cease.” I followed his advice, and in a very short time she was relieved. Then I placed her on a camel, for slaves usually walk, and the heat somewhat diminishing, she was quite cured. I afterwards learned that a caravan on its way to Mekka, having wandered from the right road, and having not a drop of water left, continued to exist entirely on a little melted butter for ten whole days. This is more extraordinary than what happened to my slave.
When we reached the well we halted for forty-eight hours, after which we proceeded until we reached Catroun.[58] This place is surrounded with palms, producing excellent dates, which the people eat in abundance at every repast. They likewise feed cattle and horses with them. Their territory is sandy and sterile. They are as black as the Soudanees; and consist of Tibboos who have settled there, with a small mixture of Fezzanees.
CHAPTER XI.
Mourzouk — A beggarly Court — An Ulemah — A miserable Country — Why the City flourishes — A Man of Good Faith — The Beni Seyf and the Bischr — Departure for Tripoli — A grave Assembly — Agreeable Conversation — Arrival at Gharian — Infidel Bedawins — Tripoli — Journey to Tunis — Sheikh arrives at his Father’s House — Paternal Honesty — Omar sets out again for Wadaï — The Sheikh’s Marriage — Death of his Father — Other Journeys — He goes to Egypt — Conclusion.
Having remained three days at Catroun, we went in four more to Mourzouk, usually called Zeylah. At the gates our slaves were counted and registered by the officers of the customs, as if we had been entering a great city. But Mourzouk is a wretched borough, inhabited by blacks from Afnou, and a heterogeneous population of Arabs from Tripoli, Jalou, Aujila, and Derna. It is situated in a plain, far from any other town or village. The bazaar is miserably small, containing only fourteen shops. A market is held every afternoon for about an hour and a half; and goods are then sold by a crier, who goes up and down, announcing the prices offered.
We were presented to the Sultan, as he calls himself, although he is in reality a mere governor. He was the well-known Mountaser, who afterwards rebelled against the Pasha of Tripoli. He received us with much haughtiness, and with an attempt at state. I never saw such an enormous white turban as the one he wore. It was folded in the Mekka fashion,—that is, swelling more over the right temple than the left,—but the size was so ridiculously exaggerated, that his Majesty dared scarcely bend his head. I could not help laughing to myself at his airs of importance. He deigned to receive our presents, but addressed us not except by slight signs. Decorum in Fezzan consists in restraining the prodigality of ceremonies. The court of this mighty Sultan consisted of a number of fellows wrapped in old, worn-out blankets. They looked very wretched. I afterwards went to the Vizier Othman’s, and found him surrounded by a lot of dirty people playing on old tambourines and cracked flutes. Everything in this country is miserable. I could find no food to eat with pleasure, and spent three months there very wretchedly.[59]
Few strangers from the Magreb, or any other country, who are at all accustomed to easy living, can make up their minds to settle at Mourzouk. They say that a learned man, an Ulema, once came to teach at that city. He was immediately surrounded by disciples; the crowd came to his lessons; he was listened to with avidity—which is the supreme happiness of men of science: yet, in spite of this, one morning the worthy Ulema ran away from the place in a great hurry. He could not put up with it any longer. “It is impossible to stand it,” said he. “Wherefore?” inquired some one.—“Wherefore? Why, because it is the veritable image of hell. Hell is hot,—so is Mourzouk: the damned are black,—so are the people of Mourzouk: hell has seven gates,—so has Mourzouk. What the deuce do you expect one to do in a place which completely answers the definition of hell?” So away he went as fast as he could.
Verily, it is an abominable country. Women sell themselves for a handful of barley,—at least so they say. Besides, there is not a dish which can be eaten with pleasure; there never falls a drop of rain; man and beasts live on the same food— dates: there is the abiding-place of fever, nourished by continual feeding on dates and barley-bread. Wheat is so rare that only the great people and the Sultan can indulge in it: butter is as difficult to be got as red sulphur. What can one do with the grease which is sold at Mourzouk for kitchen-stuff? What can one do in a country where men eat clover, with a little salt, as a delicacy, where a fowl costs half a mitkal of gold, and ten eggs are charged half a riyal? I have seen servants come before the Women’s Kadi to complain that they had not enough to eat,—even of dates. In one word, merchants only have any cause to be pleased with Mourzouk; for they gain sometimes a thousand per cent there.
It is by the passage of the caravans that the city subsists. All those that come from Bornou, from Wadaï, from Bagirmeh, and, indeed, both Western and Eastern Soudan, meet here. Merchants of Aujila ply between Egypt and Mourzouk; and those of Sokneh and Bengazi between Tripoli and Mourzouk, which has become a veritable central mart of commerce. The slaves preferred there are those of Haussa, the capital of Afnou; and, indeed, in all markets they fetch the highest prices. The Tuaricks and the Tuatee come for the purposes of trade to Mourzouk, where also pass the pilgrim caravans from all the West.
The people of Fezzan are remarkable for benevolence and probity, as an example will prove. A Fezzanee had dissipated his moderate fortune in extravagance, and was reduced to misery. Some days before the departure of a caravan for Soudan, accordingly, he went and cut a number of palm-leaves, and, taking the stems, wrapped them up carefully in thick cloth, making them appear like bales of merchandise. Then he placed them on a camel, and taking them into the city, paid a couple of douros on each as a tax; for it is the custom to make a fixed charge, and not to search. Having got his two bales safe in his house, the Fezzanee went to the Vizier Othman, and said,—“To-morrow a caravan departs for Soudan. I have just received two bales of merchandise, which I cannot take with me; I will leave them with thee as a pledge, if thou wilt lend me two hundred dollars for the speculation I am going to undertake. When I return I will pay.” “Willingly,” said the vizier, trusting in his good faith. The bales were brought, the money was counted out, and the man departed. In six months he returned, having been fortunate, and went to the vizier, confessed his trick, paid back the money, and the two were ever afterwards friends. The Prophet has said,—“Good faith is the ark of salvation.”
I was detained long at Mourzouk, as I have said, and became weary and disgusted. The roads were infested by the tribe of Bedawins called the Beni Seyf-en-Nasr, who robbed and murdered travellers, so that even caravans dared not depart.[60] At length, however, I obtained an opportunity of departure under the conduct of one Bou-Bekr, a chief of the tribe of the Bischr. This tribe had formerly been defeated by the Beni Seyf, and forced to take refuge in Fezzan, where they settled, leaving their rivals in possession of the surrounding desert. Yusef Pasha, of Tripoli, however, hearing of this, and wishing to employ them to reduce the Beni Seyf, had sent for their chief men to have an interview. It was with this deputation that I obtained permission to depart. Bou-Bekr told me to meet him at Shiatee, and giving me a guide, I departed with my camels, and in five days reached the place of rendezvous. Here I was well received by Bischr, the chief of the tribe, and treated in all respects as if I was one of them. So I waited patiently until the arrival of Bou-Bekr, rejoiced at having escaped from Mourzouk, feeding on milk and meat, and seeing with pleasure my camels pasturing on the excellent herbage which grows in the Wady of Shiatee.
On the arrival of Bou-Bekr the tribe collected in a general council to deliberate. Every one, old and young, came to discuss the general situation. I shall always remember the impression which this assembly produced upon me, and the freedom with which all the members expressed their opinions. Young people, children of from twelve to fifteen years of age, equally with the reverend people of the tribe, had a deliberative voice, and were listened to without excitement or indifference. No one held back from giving an opinion, and all opinions were duly weighed and considered. It was really a marvellous thing to see old men listening to, and weighing the words of, unbearded youths and mere children. The sight of no assembly ever moved me more. Such things are not seen, I believe, in any other country. An assembly so calm, so attentive, so grave, representing all ages, gathered together to discuss a question of general interest to all ranks, is a model to be imitated by the peoples of the earth. I know not how behave the deliberative councils of France and England, but I am persuaded that both French and English might go and take a lesson of gravity and freedom, an example for the forms of public discussion, in the deserts of Africa, among the children of the tribes of Bischr. There are savages who have some good in them; there is wisdom even among louts; there are simpletons who can teach the wise; just as in the desert there are some oases, some spots of greenery.
It was decided that some of the principal men of the tribe should go to Tripoli with Bou-Bekr, whilst the others remained at Shiatee. The preparations that were necessary—such as collecting provisions, getting together water-skins, and so forth— lasted five days. On the sixth we departed, with an escort of twenty Arabs, and entered upon vast plains beyond the limits of Fezzan. The Bischr who accompanied us talked much, but had no topics but their own incursions, battles, and robberies. “Do you remember,” would they say one to the other, “how on such a day we made such an expedition—how we were attacked by such a tribe—how I killed such an one?—the whole tribe saw me give that famous blow!” This was the matter of conversation among these Bedawins during the entire journey. We advanced for fifteen days over plains dotted with trees and covered with verdure. The Arabs constantly sent out scouts to watch the horizon and look sharp for ambuscades wherever the ground seemed to favour an attack. On the sixteenth day we reached the district of Gharian, which is well wooded and adorned with gardens, picturesque and wild places, springs of water and large ponds: saffron grows here, and fruits of various kinds. The people are good and hospitable. They lodge under ground; so that on approaching their villages only the minarets of the mosques are to be seen, and the houses set apart for strangers. We were well received, and generally halted at night near a village. All I had to complain of was the food. Their great dish is a thick paste soaked in oil, and seasoned with date-marmalade. I could never eat more than a couple of mouthfuls. We were five days in traversing this district, where we were in perfect safety, having nothing to fear but God.
I must say, however, that I was displeased with the Bischr, my companions, on account of their total indifference in matters of faith and law. They never pray; nothing is reprehensible or forbidden among them; crime and virtue are all one. They swear only by the oath of divorce. They continually boast of the number of enemies they have killed, of people they have robbed; and seem to think that time is lost which is not devoted to these occupations. I used to say to them, “Such works and such a life are criminal, forbidden by God. Give up such habits; be corrected.” They would answer: “We are men of forbidden things; we live in them and by them. God has created us Bedawins of the desert, that we may do them.” I quoted the Koran and the maxims of the Prophet, at which they laughed and treated me as a fool. One of them, named Katar, said, that if I had not been under the protection of Bou-Bekr, he would long ago have seized my camels and my slaves. In fact, these tribes regard nothing as sacred: if there are any pious men among them they are very aged and decrepit. All their Islamism consists in repeating the Profession of Faith.[61]
Leaving Gharian, we proceeded towards Tripoli, when the first thing we saw was a man hanging over the gateway. I did not long remain there. It is a city not nearly so great as its reputation. There are two gates, one towards the market-place; the other towards the sea. The houses remind me of those of Alexandria, before it was embellished by Mohammed Ali. All the merchants nearly are natives of the island of Jirbeh. At Tripoli I sold all my slaves, except one from Bagirmeh, named Zeitoun, whom I loved. Then I set out by sea for Tunis, and having visited Safakes, at length arrived in sight of my native place. We recognised it by its dazzling whiteness, by the glittering panes of its houses, by its eaves of shining tin, by its cupolas covered with semi-cylindrical tiles, and varnished green.
We went to the okella (hotel) of travellers from Safakes. I hired two asses, and placing on them my kitchen-utensils and bedding, mounted one myself, and placed my slave on the other. Then we penetrated into the interior of the town, asking for my father’s house. I found that he had gone to a country dwelling, and proceeding thither, found at length my father walking in the garden. He had a dozen concubines, five fellow-servants, and the black servant; and he had given a young slave to his mother.
I was received with distinction and apparent joy. My two cousins, young girls, came to salute me, and so did my sister and my grandmother. I related my adventures, but said nothing of the money which was in my belt, and begged my slave to keep the secret.
Towards evening my father caused a bath to be prepared, and told me to wash myself from the dust of travel. Unsuspecting, I complied; and the attendant, when I was undressed, took up my old garments and carried them away, leaving in their place a new Tunisian dress. It happened that my father took up my girdle, and finding it heavy, knew that it contained money. He accordingly appropriated the whole. I dared not at first remonstrate, but did so at length through the medium of a friend. My father was very angry, and said that whatever I had belonged to him; that he had supplied the capital, and was the cause of the favour of the Sultan of Wadaï; and that if I ever alluded to the subject again I should be turned out of doors. So I was reduced to silence.
Some time afterwards, however, my father, feeling the roving disposition come over him again, called to me, and said: “I wish to undertake a second journey to Wadaï, and bring back my children with the rest of my family, and arrange all my affairs. Remain, then, at the sanieh. I give it to you, with the land adjoining, in exchange for the money I have had of yours. Watch over this little domain and cultivate it. I leave for that purpose oxen and tools. In the warehouse is abundance of barley for cattle, and of wheat for seed. I leave to your care my mother and your cousins.” I requested my father not to undertake such a journey, and offered to go in his place, but he would not listen to my advice; and having made his preparations, started with many presents for the Sultan of Wadaï.
I settled at the sanieh without money, but with my grandmother and cousins to support. I cultivated the ground; and when I was in want sold a portion of my store of barley. Soon after my father’s departure, my grandmother advised me to marry the younger of my cousins, and I at length consented. Two years passed, and I received news of my father’s death from Tripoli. I repaired there, and met Sedan, my father’s slave. He told me that he had been sent to Mourzouk to sell slaves, and had realised nine hundred and sixty dollars; but that Moknee, who was then governor of Fezzan, had taken them from him. This determined me to return across the desert. I reached Mourzouk in safety, and with some difficulty got back my money. Then I started for Wadaï again; but on the borders of the country of the Tibboo-Reshad I met a large caravan, with which was my Uncle Zarouk. I found that he had appropriated my father’s property; and it was only after a violent quarrel that I got back a portion—namely, a number of slaves.
I returned to Tunis with my slaves, and soon afterwards disposed of my sanieh, which I found to be a losing concern. Then I went to live in Tunis itself, and passed there two years, during which I spent a great part of my fortune. Fearing poverty, I determined to undertake the pilgrimage to Mekka, and carry merchandise with me. My wife refused to accompany me; so I started alone, on board a brig, which touched first at Susa. Whilst we stayed here I made a little excursion to Cairawan. Eleven days afterwards we sighted Alexandria. From this place I went to Cairo, where I was rejoiced to find my mother alive and well. I gave her a hundred piastres for her expenses. Seven days after my arrival I bought an Abyssinian slave, a beautiful girl, gentle and honest. Her heart was good and loving, and she shared my joys and sorrows. I kept her for six years, until she died (A.D. 1821) of the plague. No loss ever grieved me more than the loss of my beautiful Abyssinian girl, whom may God regard with mercy!