NARRATIVE
OF
FATALLA SAYEGHIR.
At eighteen years of age I quitted Aleppo, my country, with a stock of merchandise, to establish myself in Cyprus. Being tolerably fortunate in the first year of my commercial speculations, I took a liking to the business, and adopted the fatal idea of taking to Trieste a cargo of the productions of the island. In a short time my goods were embarked; they consisted of cotton, silk, wine, sponge, and colocynth. On the 18th March, 1809, my ship, commanded by Captain Chefalinati, set sail. I was already calculating the profits of my venture, and rejoicing at the idea of the gross returns, when, in the midst of my delightful illusions, the fatal news arrived of the capture of the vessel by an English ship of war, which had taken her to Malta. In consequence of such a loss, I was obliged to strike my balance, and retire from trade; and I quitted Cyprus totally ruined, and returned to Aleppo. Some days after my arrival I dined at one of my friends’ with several persons, amongst whom was a stranger, very ill-dressed, but to whom much consideration was shown. After dinner there was music; and the stranger sitting beside me, conversed with much affability: we spoke of music, and after a long conversation, I rose to ask him his name. I learned that it was M. Lascaris de Ventimiglia, and that he was a knight of Malta. The following day, I saw him coming to my house, holding in his hand a violin. “My good young man,” said he on entering, “I remarked yesterday how much you like music; I already look upon you as my son, and bring you a violin, of which I beg your acceptance.” I received with much pleasure the instrument, which was exactly to my taste, and gave him very many thanks. After an animated conversation of two hours, during which he questioned me upon all sorts of subjects, he retired. The next day he returned, and continued in this manner his visits for a fortnight; he then proposed to me to give him lessons in Arabic for an hour every day, for which he offered me a hundred piastres a month. I gladly accepted this advantageous proposal; and after six months’ teaching he began to read and speak Arabic tolerably well. One day he said to me, “My dear son, (he always addressed me thus,) I see that you have a great inclination for commerce; and as I wish to remain some time with you, I should like to employ you in a manner agreeable to yourself. Here is money: purchase goods, such as are saleable at Homs, at Hama, and the neighbourhood. We will trade in the countries least frequented by merchants; you will find we shall succeed well.” My desire of remaining with M. de Lascaris, and the persuasion that the undertaking would be successful, determined me to accept the proposal without hesitation; and I began, according to a note which he sent me, to make the purchases, which consisted of the following articles: red cloth, amber, corals in chaplets, cotton handkerchiefs, silk handkerchiefs black and red, black shirts, pins, needles, box combs and horn, rings, horses’ bits, bracelets of glass beads, and other glass ornaments; to these we added chemical products, spices, and drugs. M. Lascaris paid for these different articles eleven thousand piastres, or two thousand tallaris.
The people of Aleppo, who saw me purchasing the goods, told me that M. Lascaris was become mad. Indeed his dress and his manners made him pass for mad. He wore his beard long and ill-combed, a white turban very dirty, a shabby robe or gombaz, with a vest beneath, a leather belt, and red shoes without stockings. When spoken to, he pretended not to understand what was said. He spent the greater part of the day at the coffee-house, and ate at the bazaar, which was never done by the higher people. This behaviour had an object, as I afterwards discovered; but those who knew it not thought his mind was deranged. As to myself, I found him full of sense and wisdom; in short, a superior man. One day when all the goods were packed, he called me to him, to ask what was said of him at Aleppo. “They say,” replied I, “that you are mad.” “And what do you think yourself?” said he. “I think that you are full of sense and knowledge.” “I hope in time to prove it so,” said he; “but I must have you engage to do all I shall order, without reply or asking a reason; to obey me in every thing; in short, I must have a blind obedience; you will have no occasion to repent.” He then told me to fetch him some mercury; I instantly obeyed: he mixed it with grease and two other drugs, of which I was ignorant, and assured me, that a thread of cotton dipped in this preparation and tied round the neck was a security against the bite of insects. I thought to myself there were not insects enough at Homs, or at Hama, to require such a preservative; that therefore it was destined for some other country; but as he had interdicted every remark, I merely asked him on what day we should depart, that I might order the moukres (camel drivers.) “I allow you,” he replied, “thirty days to divert yourself; my chest is at your disposal; enjoy yourself, spend what you like, spare nothing.” This is, thought I, for a farewell to the world which he wishes me to make: but the strong attachment I already felt for him stifled this reflection; I thought no longer but of the present, and availed myself of the time he allowed to enjoy myself. But alas! the time for pleasure soon passes! it soon came to an end. M. Lascaris pressed me to depart; I submitted to his orders, and profiting by a caravan that set out for Hama, Thursday the 18th of February, 1810, we left Aleppo, and arrived at the village of Saarmin, after twelve hours’ march. The next day we set out for Nuarat el Nahaman, a pretty little town, distant six hours. It is celebrated for the salubrity of the air and the goodness of its waters; it is the native place of the celebrated Arabian poet Abu el Hella el Maari, who was blind from his birth. He had learned to write by a singular method. He remained in a vapour bath while they traced on his back the form of the Arabic letters with iced water. Many are the traits of sagacity related of him; among others the following:—Being at Bagdad with a calife, to whom he was continually boasting of the air and water of his native place, the calife procured some water from the river Nuarat, and without any intimation gave it him to drink. The poet, immediately recognising it, exclaimed, “Here is its limpid water, but where its air so pure!” To return to the caravan: it remained two days at Nuarat, to be present at a fair that was held there on Sundays. We went to walk about, and in the multitude I lost sight of M. Lascaris, who had disappeared in the midst. After looking for him a long while, I at last discovered him in a solitary spot conversing with a ragged Bedouin. I asked him with surprise what pleasure he found in the conversation of such a person, who could neither understand his Arabic, nor make him understand his. “The day,” said he, “when I have first had the honour of speaking with a Bedouin, is one of the happiest days of my life.” “In that case,” I replied, “you will often be at the summit of happiness, for we shall be continually meeting with this sort of people.”
He made me buy some galettes (the bread of the country) and some cheese, and gave them to Hettall, (the name of the Arab,) who thanked us and took leave. The 20th February we left Nuarat el Nahaman, and, after six hours’ march, we arrived at Khrau Cheikhria, and the next day, after nine hours, at Hama, a considerable town, where we were known to nobody, as M. Lascaris had brought no letters of recommendation. We passed the first night in a coffee-house; and, the next day, hired a room in the khan of Asshad Pacha. As I was beginning to open the bales, and prepare the goods for sale, M. Lascaris said to me with a dissatisfied air, “You are only thinking of your miserable commerce! If you knew how many more useful and interesting things there are to be done!” After that I thought no more of selling, and went to survey the town. On the fourth day, M. Lascaris, walking by himself, proceeded as far as the castle, which is falling to ruins. Having examined it attentively, he had the imprudence to begin taking its dimensions. Four vagabonds, who were concealed under a broken arch, threw themselves upon him with threats to denounce him for wishing to carry off treasures, and introduce the giaours into the castle. With a little money all might have been ended without noise; but M. Lascaris defended himself, and with difficulty escaped from their hands and came to me. He had not finished telling me his adventure, when we saw two men from the government enter with one of the informers. They took the key of our room, and led us away, driving us with sticks like felons. Being brought into the presence of the mutzelim, Selim Beg, known for his cruelty, he thus questioned us: “Of what country are you?” “My companion is from Cyprus,” I replied, “and myself from Aleppo.” “What object leads you to this country?” “We are come to trade.” “You lie; your companion was seen about the castle, taking its dimensions and drawing plans; it is to obtain treasure, and deliver the place to the infidels.” Then turning to the guards, “Take the two dogs,” said he, “to the dungeon.”—We were not allowed to say another word. Being brought to the prison, we were loaded with chains from the neck to the feet, and shut up in a dark dungeon, which was so small that we could hardly turn. After a time we obtained a light, and some bread, for a tallari; but the immense quantity of bugs and other insects that infested the prison prevented us from closing our eyes. We had scarcely courage to think of means to get out of the horrible place. At length I recollected a Christian writer, named Selim, whom I knew by reputation as a useful person. I gained over one of our guards, who went for him; and the following day Selim arranged the matter by means of a present of sixty tallaris to the mutzelim, and fifty piastres to his people. At this price we obtained our liberty. This imprisonment procured for us the acquaintance of Selim, and several other persons at Hama, with whom we passed three weeks very agreeably.
The town is charming; the Orontes crosses it, and renders it gay and animated; its abundant waters keep up the verdure of numerous gardens. The inhabitants are amiable, lively, and witty. They admire poetry and cultivate it with success. They have been well characterised with the epithet of speaking birds. M. Lascaris having asked Selim for a letter of recommendation to a man of humble condition at Homs, who might serve us as guide, he wrote the following note: “To our brother Yakoub, health! They who will present you this letter are pedlers, and come to you to sell their wares in the neighbourhood of Homs; assist them as far as you are able. Your pains will not be lost; they are honest people. Farewell!”
M. Lascaris, well satisfied with this letter, wished to take advantage of a caravan that was going to Homs. We departed on the 25th March, and arrived after six hours at Rastain, which is at present only the ruin of an ancient considerable town. It contains nothing remarkable. We continued our route, and at the end of another six hours we reached Homs. Yakoub, to whom we delivered our letter, received us admirably, and gave us a supper. His trade was making black cloaks, called machlas. After supper, some men of his own rank came to pass the evening with him, drinking coffee and smoking. One of them, a locksmith named Naufal, appeared very intelligent. He spoke to us of the Bedouins, of their manner of living and making war; he told us that he passed six months of the year with these tribes to arrange their arms, and that he had many friends among them. When we were alone, M. Lascaris said to me that he had that night seen all his relatives; and as I expressed my wonder at learning that there were any of the people of Ventimiglia at Homs, “My meeting with Naufal,” said he, “is more valuable to me than that with my whole family.”
It was late when we retired, and the master of the house gave a mattress and covering for us both. M. Lascaris had never slept with any one; but, out of kindness, he insisted that I should share the bed with him: not wishing to contradict him, I placed myself beside him; but as soon as the light was out, wrapping myself in my machlas, I crept out to the ground, where I passed the night. The next morning, on waking, we found ourselves lying in the same manner; M. Lascaris having done as I had. He came and embraced me, saying, “It is a good sign that we had the same idea, my dear son; for I like to call you so, as it pleases you, I hope, as well as me.” I thanked him for the interest he showed me, and we went out together to prevail on Naufal to accompany us through the town, and show us what curiosity it contained, promising to pay him for the loss of the day. The population of Homs is about eight thousand. The character of the people is quite different from that of the inhabitants of Hama. The citadel, situated in the centre of the town, is falling to ruins; the ramparts still preserved are watered by a branch of the Orontes. The air is pure. We bought for forty piastres two sheep-skin cloaks like those of the Bedouins: these cloaks are water-proof. To be the more at liberty, we hired a room at the khan, and begged Naufal to stay with us, engaging to pay him as much as he would have earned in his shop,—about three piastres a day. He was of the greatest use. M. Lascaris questioned him dexterously, and obtained from him all the information he wished: getting him to describe the manners, usages, and character of the Bedouins, their mode of receiving strangers and treating them. We stayed thirty days at Homs, to wait the return of the Bedouins, who commonly quit the neighbourhood of that city in October, to proceed to the south, according to the weather, and the water and pasturage; progressing one day, and halting five or six. Some go as far as Bagdad, others to Chatt el Arab, where the Tigris and the Euphrates join. In February they commence their return to Syria, and at the end of April they are found again in the deserts of Damascus and Aleppo. Naufal gave us all this intelligence, and told us that the Bedouins made constant use of cloaks like ours, black machlas, and above all of cafiés. M. Lascaris accordingly made me buy twenty cloaks, ten machlas, and fifty cafiés, of which I made a bale. This purchase amounted to twelve hundred piastres. Naufal having proposed to us to visit the citadel, the recollection of the adventure at Hama made us at first hesitate; but, on his assurance that nothing disagreeable could happen, and that he would be responsible, we consented, and went with him to view the ruins seated at the top of a small hill in the middle of the town. The castle is in better preservation than that of Hama. We observed in it a deep and concealed grotto, in which was an abundant spring; the water escaped by an opening four feet by two, and passed through bars of iron into a second opening. It is excellent. An old tradition was told us, that the passage being once stopped up, there came a deputation from Persia, which, for a considerable sum paid to the government, procured it to be re-opened, and that for the future the water should not be obstructed. The entrance into the grotto is now forbidden, and it is very difficult to get in.
Returning home, M. Lascaris asked me, if I had noted down what we had seen, and what had occurred since our departure; and on my answer in the negative, he begged that I would do so, making me promise to keep an exact journal in Arabic of all that had occurred, that he might himself translate it into French. From that time I took notes, which he carefully transcribed every day and returned to me the day following. I have now put them together in the hope that they may one day prove useful, and obtain for me a slight compensation for my fatigues and sufferings.
M. Lascaris having determined to go to the village of Saddad, I engaged Naufal to accompany us; and joining some other persons, we quitted Homs with all our merchandise. After five hours’ march, we passed a large brook running from north to south towards the castle of Hasné. This castle, commanded by an aga, is a halting-place to the caravan from Mecca to Damascus: the water is excellent for drinking, and we filled our skins with it. This was a necessary precaution, for we found no more on our seven hours’ march from thence to Saddad. We arrived there at sunset. Naufal took us to the sheik, Hassaf Abu Ibrahim, a venerable old man, and father of nine children, all married, and living under the same roof. He received us most kindly, and presented us to all his family, which, to our great astonishment, amounted to sixty-four persons. The sheik having asked us if we wished to establish ourselves in the village, or travel into other countries, we told him we were merchants; that war between the powers having interrupted the communication by sea with Cyprus, we had been desirous of settling at Aleppo, but finding in that city richer merchants than ourselves, we had determined to carry our goods to less frequented places, hoping to make larger gains. Having then told him in what our merchandise consisted, “These articles,” said he, “are only useful to the Arabs of the desert; I am sorry to tell you so, but it will be impossible to get to them; and even if you should, you run the risk of losing everything, even your lives. The Bedouins are greedy and audacious; they will seize your goods, and, if you offer the least resistance, will put you to death. You are people of honour and delicacy; you could never put up with their grossness; it is for your sake that I speak thus, being myself a Christian. Take my advice: expose your goods here, sell all that you can, and then return to Aleppo, if you would preserve your property and your lives.” He had hardly left off speaking, when the principal people of the village, who had assembled to see us, began telling us alarming stories. One of them said, that a pedler coming from Aleppo, and going into the desert, had been plundered by the Bedouins, and had been seen returning quite naked. Another had learned that a merchant from Damascus had been killed. All agreed as to the impossibility of penetrating amongst the hordes of Bedouins, and endeavoured by every possible means to deter us from the dangerous enterprise.
I saw that M. Lascaris was vexed; he turned to me, and said in Italian, not to be understood by the others, “What say you to this account, which has much discouraged me?” “I do not believe,” said I, “all these stories; and even if they were true, we ought still to persevere in our project. Ever since you announced to me your intention to go among the Bedouins, I have never hoped to revisit my home. I regarded the thirty days you allowed me at Aleppo to enjoy myself, as my last farewell of the world; I consider our journey as a real campaign; and he who goes to war, being well resolved, should never think of his return. Let us not lose our courage: though Hassaf is a sheik, and has experience, and understands the cultivation of land and the affairs of his village, he can have no idea of the importance of our business: I therefore am of opinion that we should speak to him no more of our journey into the desert, but place our trust in God, the protector of the universe.” These words produced the effect upon M. Lascaris, who embraced me tenderly, and said, “My dear son, I put all my hope in God and in you; you are a man of resolution, I see; I am most satisfied with the strength of your character, and I hope to attain my object by the aid of your courage and constancy.” After this conversation, we went to sleep, equally satisfied with one another.