We were no sooner on board than the anchor was weighed, and we started on our short voyage across the Sea of Babel Mandeb. In consequence of the weak state of my health, I remained on deck no longer than to witness our passage out of the beautiful and commodious harbour called Back Bay, which extends to the westward of the low narrow isthmus, and nearly circular base of the extinct volcano razè of Aden. We arrived in sight of Tajourah by sunrise the next morning; but it was not until nearly three o’clock in the afternoon that we anchored in front of that town. The sails being furled, a salute of seven guns was fired by the brig, but some time elapsed before any notice was taken of the honour by the people on shore, a delay which was soon accounted for by Sultaun Ebin Mahomed, the Sheik of the town, sending on board for some gunpowder to enable him to return the compliment.
Capt. Young and Mr. Hatchetoor landed almost immediately. I remained for the present on board, as it was considered impolitic for me to appear desirous of passing through the Adal country until some positive information could be obtained respecting the second division of stores which had been sent up to Abyssinia some months before under the charge of Mr. Bernatz, the artist, and the assistant surveyor, Mr. Scott, respecting which none but the most disastrous accounts had been received in Aden. On the return of Capt. Young to the brig, I found, much to my disappointment, that he did not feel himself justified, under present circumstances, in trusting into the hands of the people of Tajourah, several boxes and packages which were to constitute my charge. He also considered it would be highly injudicious in me to make any attempt to pass through the country in the disturbed state it was then represented to be. Part of the mail, however, he determined to forward, if possible, and had fixed the next day for another interview with the Sultaun to conclude some arrangements with him and his people that should at least secure the transmission of the public despatches to Capt. Harris in Shoa.
Tajourah is a small straggling town consisting of a number of low mat houses standing on the northern shore of a narrow bay which extends about twenty miles inward, nearly due east and west. The opposite coast is at least ten miles distant. From Tajourah, the bay contracts inland to a channel scarcely four hundred yards wide, when, suddenly expanding again, it terminates in a large irregularly formed lagoon, called Goobat ul Khhrab (the bad haven). In modern maps no appearance of this deep inlet, a very particular feature of the sea-coast in this neighbourhood, can be found, though in the older Portuguese maps it is accurately enough laid down. The ancients seem to have been well aware of the existence of the Bay of Tajourah, for it can be easily identified with the Sinus Avalitæ of the Periplus.
The sea immediately in front of Tajourah has received, from the generally unruffled state of its stormless waters, the name of Bahr ul Barateen, “The sea of Maidens;” which struck me as a singular correspondence with the name of the sea surrounding the ancient city of Carthage, which from the map appended to an old school edition of Virgil, we learn was called by the Romans, Mare Nympharum, the poetical Latin translation of the Arabic, Bahr ul Barateen. Tajourah, it must be observed, also being the present name of a village situated very near to the ruins of that once powerful seat of Phœnician commerce.
On the occasion of this visit, much opportunity was not afforded me of observing the character either of the country or of the people, as I landed but twice, and then under the closest surveillance of a brother of the Sultaun, named Isaak, who professed to be greatly alarmed for my safety during these visits; and although at the time I deemed his attendance to proceed from any but generous motives, I have since had reason to believe that his representations of the danger I incurred by rambling about the neighbourhood without the protection of some powerful native were founded upon truth, and from a desire that no cause of ill-feeling between their little town and the English should occur, if by any possibility it could be avoided. As I before observed, three of Mr. Hatchetoor’s servants were murdered during the night, on the last occasion of our intercourse with the inhabitants; and Isaak, though I felt his presence to be a restraint upon my actions, was quite right for thus persisting to accompany me on even the most trifling occasions, to prevent the recurrence of what he, half savage as he was, felt to be an untoward event.
An opportunity offering itself, Capt. Young introduced me to the Sultaun of Tajourah. He was a man at least sixty years of age; round his closely shaven head was wrapped a dirty white muslin turban, beneath which was a very light Arab skull cap of open wicker-work, made of the mid rib of the palm leaf. Naked to his waist, over the right shoulder and across his chest, was slung a broad belt of amulets, consisting of numerous packages the size of a small cartouche-box, alternately of red cloth and of leather, each of which contained some written charm against every evil that he feared, or for every desirable good. A common checked cotton fotah, or cloth, reaching to the knees, was fastened around his middle by a leathern belt, in which was secured a very handsome sword of silver, and completed his dress. In his hand he held a light spear, that served to support his long spare figure as he walked, or sometimes to chastise a rebellious urchin, or vituperative female of his household, by dropping the heavily iron tipped end not very gently on their heads and shoulders. But little attention was paid to him by his tribe beyond the simple acknowledgment of him as their chief, and the title was only valuable as a legal excuse for demanding from merchants and strangers some paltry present, which alone constitutes, as far as I could observe, the revenue of the state of Tajourah.
Beyond the limits of the town, the authority of the Sultaun was disclaimed; and, in fact, it was very evident that to hold quiet possession of the town, a species of black mail was extorted from him and the inhabitants by the Bedouins of the surrounding country.
The palace of the Sultaun Ebin Mahomed, who was familiarly styled by his subjects, “Shabah” (old man), consisted of two rooms, placed at right angles to each other, the walls of which consisted of mats made of the plaited palm leaf, stretched upon a slight frame of sticks. The roofs also were of similar material. The whole was enclosed by a fence about six feet high, consisting of dry sticks, also covered with mats.
Screens of these suspended mats divided the larger of the two rooms into four compartments, which were severally used as the harem, store-room, the family sleeping-room, and the audience-chamber, if such imposing designations may with propriety be bestowed upon the squalid menage of the chief of Tajourah. In the other room was the oven, or rather kiln, for baking; a coarse earthen construction, which resembled in form a large jar, inside of which was placed the fuel; when it was properly heated, large layers of unleavened dough, made from the meal of jowahree mixed with water, was plastered upon the outside, where it remained until it had dried into a heavy substance, well finger-marked, and looked sufficiently like a cake to satisfy the eaters, that they were, really, as they frequently boasted, so far in advance of their Bedouin neighbours, as to use baked bread.
There were also in this room a few wooden couches upon which the slave women were accustomed to repose during the heat of the day, when not engaged in grinding the jowahree meal, or carrying water from the well. At a short distance from these apartments, but within the enclosed court, was a singularly constructed wooden building that towered some six feet above the usual height of houses in Tajourah, being the cabin of a large bogalow, or native ship, wrecked in the bay, and which had been elevated upon untrimmed trunks of the date palm-tree.[[2]] A wall of matting carried round these posts formed a convenient lower room, which, with the cabin above, was usually apportioned to strangers visiting the town. To this extraordinary effort of native architectural genius, was attached a small yard, separated by a mat screen from the larger court; and here, at a broken jar, that stood in one corner, under the shade of a miserable looking henna-tree, the faithful of the household were always to be found at the stated times of prayer, performing their ablutions. At small apertures along the lower edge of the screen, close to the ground, were frequently to be seen rows of white teeth of startling extent, as the amused slave girl and female branches of the royal family sought to gratify their curiosity by taking sly peeps at the Engreez whenever they visited the Sultaun. The law court, if it may be so termed, was nothing more than an expansion of the lane in the front of the Sultan’s residence, carefully strewed with the small pebbly shingle of the neighbouring beach. In form it was oblong, and around it were placed several large stones, an old ship beam, and a trunk of the date tree, to serve for the seats of the principal men of the town on occasions of their public kalahims or councils, which were always held in this place. The Sultaun generally presided over these assemblies, his chief business being to distribute the coffee, which was rather stingily supplied to the parties present.