A journey to Central Africa

by Bayard Taylor

Preceded by two attendants, we walked through the town to the Catholic Mission, a spacious one-story building in a large garden near the river. Entering a court, in the centre of which grew a tall tamarind tree, we were received by an Italian monk, in flowing robes, who conducted us into a second court, inclosed by the residence of the Vicar. Here we met two other priests, a German and a Hungarian, dressed in flowing Oriental garments. They ushered us into a large room, carpeted with matting, and with a comfortable divan around the sides. The windows looked into a garden, which was filled with orange, fig and banana trees, and fragrant with jasmine and mimosa blossoms. We had scarcely seated ourselves, when the monks rose and remained standing, while Dr. Knoblecher entered. He was a small man, slightly and rather delicately built, and not more than thirty-five years of age. His complexion was fair, his eyes a grayish blue, and his beard, which he wore flowing upon his breast, a very decided auburn. His face was one of those which wins not only kindness but confidence from all the world. His dress consisted of a white turban, and a flowing robe of dark purple cloth. He is a man of thorough cultivation, conversant with several languages, and possesses an amount of scientific knowledge which will make his future explorations valuable to the world. During my stay in Khartoum I visited him frequently, and derived from him much information concerning the countries of Soudân and their inhabitants.

On our return we called upon Moussa Bey, the commander of the expedition sent into the lands of the Shukorees and the Hallengas, the foregoing summer. He was then ill of a fever and confined to his bed, but we entered the room without ceremony, and found with him the new Governor of Berber and Abd-el-Kader Bey, the Governor of Kordofan, besides several secretaries and attendants. Moussa Bey was a Turk, perhaps fifty years of age, and had a strong, sturdy, energetic face. Several Arab shekhs, some of whom had been taken prisoners in the late expedition, were lounging about the court-yards.

The day after my arrival, Dr. Reitz presented me to Lattif Pasha, the Governor of Soudân. The Egyptian officials in Khartoum generally consider themselves as exiles, and a station in Soudân carries with it a certain impression of disgrace. For the Pasha, however, it is an office of great importance and responsibility, and its duties are fully as arduous as those of the Viceroy of Egypt himself. The provinces under his rule constitute a territory of greater extent than France, and there are as many factions among the native tribes as parties among the French politicians. It is moreover, in many respects, an independent sovereignty. Its great distance from the seat of authority, and the absence of any regular means of communication except the government post, gives the Pasha of Soudân opportunities of which he never fails to avail himself. Achmet Pasha at one time so strengthened himself here that he defied even Mohammed Ali, and it is still whispered that foul means were used to get rid of him. Since then, rotation in office is found to be good policy, and the Egyptian Government is careful to remove a Pasha before he has made himself dangerous. From the Turks and Europeans in Khartoum, I heard little good of Lattif Pasha. His character was said to be violent and arbitrary, and several most savage acts were attributed to him. One thing, however, was said in favor of him, and it was a great redeeming trait in those lands: he did not enrich himself by cheating the government. At the time of my visit it was understood that he had been recalled, and was to be superseded by Rustum Pasha.

We found the Pasha seated on his divan, with a secretary before him, reading a file of documents. The guards at the door presented arms as we entered, and the Pasha no sooner saw us than he rose, and remained standing till we came up. The Consul presented me, and we seated ourselves on the divan, separated from him by a pair of cushions. Pipes were brought to us by black slaves, and after a few common-places, he turned again to his business. The Secretary was reading despatches to the different provinces of Soudân. As fast as each was approved and laid aside, a Memlook slave of fifteen, who appeared to fill the office of page, stamped them with the Pasha’s seal, in lieu of signature. When the affairs were concluded, the Pasha turned to us and entered into conversation. He was a man of forty-five years of age, of medium height, but stoutly built, and with regular and handsome features. His complexion was a pale olive, his eyes large and dark, and he wore a black beard and moustaches, very neatly trimmed. His mouth was full, and when he smiled, showed a perfect set of strong white teeth, which gave a certain grimness to his expression. His manner was refined, but had that feline smoothness which invariably covers sharp claws. If I had met him in London or Paris, in Frank costume, I should have set him down as the primo basso of the Italian Opera. He was plainly dressed in a suit of dark-blue cloth, and wore a small tarboosh on his head.

Our conversation first turned upon America, and finally upon steam navigation and maritime affairs in general. He took an interest in such subjects, as he was formerly Admiral in the navy of Mohammed Ali. An engraving of the Turkish frigate Sultan Mahmoud, which was built by the American Eckford, hung on the wall opposite me. Over the divan was a portrait of Sultan Abdul-Medjid, and on each side two Arabic sentences, emblazoned on a ground of blue and crimson. The apartment was spacious and lofty; the ceiling was of smooth palm-logs, and the floor of cement, beaten hard and polished with the trowel. I expressed my surprise to the Pasha that he had erected such a stately building in the short space of nine months, and he thereupon proposed to show it to me more in detail. He conducted us to a reception-room, covered with fine carpets, and furnished with mirrors and luxurious divans; then the dining-room, more plainly furnished, the bath with Moorish arches glimmering in steamy twilight, and his private armory, the walls of which were hung with a small but rich assortment of Turkish and European weapons. The doors of the apartments were made of a dark-red wood, of very fine grain, closely resembling mahogany. It is found in the mountains of Fazogl, on the south-western border of Abyssinia. It is susceptible of a fine polish, and the Pasha showed me a large and handsome table made from it.

The Pasha then led us into the court-yard, where the workmen were still busy, plastering the interior of the corridors surrounding it. A large leopard and a lion-whelp of six months old, were chained to two of the pillars. A younger whelp ran loose about the court, and gave great diversion to the Pasha, by lying in wait behind the pillars, whence he pounced out upon any young boy-slave, who might pass that way. The little fellow would take to his heels in great terror, and scamper across the court, followed by the whelp, who no sooner overtook him than he sprang with his fore-paws against the boy’s back, threw him down, and then ran off, apparently very much delighted with the sport. He had the free range of the palace, but spent the most of his time in the kitchen where he would leap upon a table, deliberately lie down, and watch the movements of the cooks with great interest. The Pasha told us that this whelp had on one occasion found his way to the harem, where his presence was first proclaimed by the screams of the terrified women. The leopard was a large and fierce animal, but the other lion was a rough, good-humored fellow, turning over on his back to be played with, and roaring frequently, with a voice that resembled the low notes of a melancholy trombone. From this court we passed into the outer corridor fronting the square, when the jewelled shebooks were again brought, and the Pasha discoursed for some time on the necessity of controlling one’s passions and preserving a quiet temperament under all circumstances. When we rose to depart, he invited us to return and dine with him next day.

Towards sunset the horses were got ready; Dr. Reitz donned his uniform, and I dressed myself in Frank costume, with the exception of the tarboosh, shawl and red slippers. We called at the Catholic Mission on our way to the Palace, and while conversing with the monks in the garden, a message came from the Pasha requesting Aboona Suleyman—(Padre Solomon, as Dr. Knoblecher was called by the Copts and Mussulmans in Khartoum)—to accompany us. We therefore set out on foot with the Vicar, with the grooms leading the horses behind us. The Pasha received us at the entrance of his reception-room, and then retired to pray, before further conversation. The divan at the further end of the room was divided in the centre by a pile of cushions, the space on the right hand being reserved for the Pasha alone. The Consul, being the second independent power, seated himself on the left hand, Dr. Knoblecher modestly took the corner, and I drew up my legs beside him, on the side divan. After a short absence—during which, we also were supposed to have said our prayers—the Pasha returned, saluted us a second time, and seated himself. Four slaves appeared at the same moment, with four pipes, which they presented to us in the order of our rank, commencing with the Pasha.

When the aroma of the delicate Djebeli tobacco had diffused a certain amount of harmony among us, the conversation became more animated. The principal subject we discussed was the coup d’étât of Louis Napoleon, the news of which had just arrived by dromedary post, in twenty-four days from Cairo. The Pasha said it was precisely the thing which he had long ago predicted would come to pass. Louis Napoleon, he said, would behead Thiers, Cavaignac, Lamoricière and the others whom he had imprisoned, and make, if necessary, twenty coups d’étât, after which, France would begin to prosper. The French, he said, must be well beaten, or it is impossible to govern them. The conversation had hardly commenced, when a slave appeared, bearing a silver tray, upon which were four tiny glasses of mastic cordial, a single glass of water, and saucers which contained bits of orange and pomegranate. The Pasha was always served first. He drank the cordial, took a sip of water, and then each of us in turn, drinking from the same glass. At intervals of about five minutes the same refreshment appeared, and was served at least ten times before dinner was announced.

Presently there came a band of musicians—five Egyptian boys whom the Pasha had brought with him from Cairo. We had also two additions to the company of guests: Rufaā Bey, an intelligent Egyptian, who was educated in France, and had been principal of a native college in Cairo, under Mohammed Ali, and Ali Bey Khasib, the late Governor of Berber, who had been deposed on account of alleged mal-practices. The latter was the son of a water-carrier in Cairo, but was adopted by the widow of Ismaïl Pasha, who gave him a superior education. Other accounts represented him to be the illegitimate son of either Ismaïl or Ibrahim Pasha, and this surmise was probably correct. He was a bold, handsome man of thirty, and was said to be the most intelligent of all the officials in Soudân.