So apparently accordant with the rules of art is the direction of the outer sea-wall, and its position so admirably convenient, that even a reflecting observer cannot altogether divest himself of the idea, that it is not a pre-concerted work of art rather than the casual production of nature. This was certainly my first impression; and for some time I considered it to have been constructed in a remote period of antiquity, when the whole of this coast was the busy scene of an extensive and lucrative commerce, but that in the revolution of time and the everchanging pursuits of man, the origin of this sea-protecting mole had been forgotten, and the only remembrance of the people who raised it was to be found in its name, which certainly recalls to the mind that of a long-lost nation, the Berbers of Africa. This was theory, of course, and my opinion soon changed, when I found that no other evidence of man’s residence existed in this neighbourhood; no traces whatever of that industry and wealth which must have characterized the people who could have projected and completed such an extensive marine defence for their navy and commerce. Subsequently also, geological examinations, and comparison with other older reefs of sand and coral, now forming part of, and which extend some distance inland, enabled me to establish its identity with them in structure and mineral composition. Finally, therefore, I became convinced that this was another of those beautiful and benevolent works that Nature—“our kindest mother still”—has provided for the security of her favourite, man; for with an anticipating care she has here constructed for him, by a curious yet simple economy, a safe retreat whenever in his frail bark he might be exposed to the violence of the winds and waves, on this otherwise inhospitable and dangerous coast.
In the afternoon a party, consisting of A. Nesbitt, Esq., First Lieut. of the Euphrates, the Purser, Mr. Powell, and myself, was formed for the purpose of more closely examining Berberah and its curiosities. One of the brig’s boats was ordered alongside, and we soon found ourselves carefully threading a winding course, amidst the numerous fleet of bogalows moored along-shore, greeted as we passed beneath their huge misshapen sterns, by the joking salutations and laughing faces of numerous almè, or slave-girls, who crowded the cabin windows, and the most striking features of whose dark countenances were rows of pearly teeth. The boat grounded about thirty yards from dry land, and we were obliged to be carried upon the shoulders of the crew over a black muddy beach, being set down amidst heaps of dirt; the rotting debris of the sea and of the land, drift wood, loose spars, the bones of animals, and excrements of man, formed a barrier of filth, over which it was impossible to choose a path, so we at once struck boldly across to the narrow entrance of what we imagined must be a street, and entered the town of Berberah.
I should suppose there were at least from four to five thousand huts placed closely together, uniform in size and elevation, being generally of an oblong form, about six feet broad, by nine feet in length, and five feet in height. They consisted of a roof of mats, made of the doom palm leaf, or of a long dried grass, or else merely half-dried skins badly preserved, stretched over the usual stick skeleton of a wigwam. There was not much architectural display, for being all roof, they did not well admit of it. Nor does convenience appear to be consulted in laying out streets, or even regular passages, only in so much, that a small spot on one side of the entrance of each hut is left vacant for purposes that may be imagined, and a succession of these sweet and pleasant places make a narrow lane, into which all doors open, and thus a convenient but dirty street is formed by which alone the visitor is enabled to perambulate this justly celebrated aromatic yielding fair.
The residences of the few foreign merchants, principally Banians and Arabs, are exceptions to this general style in the construction of the houses, and have some pretensions both to appearance and convenience, usually having mat walls to the height of four or five feet, with a long slanting roof of grass securely fastened down by sticks of bamboo laid transversely. The entrance is a kind of hall, opening into the centre of a room at right angles, and which extends to the right and left, perhaps ten or twelve feet on each side; its breadth is about ten feet. Behind this room is another apartment of equal dimensions, which serves as a store or warehouse, and one end partitioned off by mats, contains the secluded inmates of the harem.
One of the objects we had in view in visiting the fair was, to procure some few additional articles I required for my journey into the interior, namely, a bed carpet, two Arab frocks of yellow nankeen, and a black camaline or cloak. We accordingly bent our steps towards the quarter where lived our native friend, Shurmalkee, who was to assist us in making our purchases, but whose residence we should never have found but for the crowd of armed idlers who soon surrounded us, and led us with a kind of barbarous state into the presence of their respected chief.
The well-known Shurmalkee, or Allee Allee, his real name, is now upwards of fifty years old, tall, thin, with slightly stooping shoulders; his face long, with small quickly moving eyes, and thin white beard. The only deviation from the usual dress of his countrymen is a white cotton cloth turban, a distinction, with the title of sheik, generally assumed by those who can read the Koran, or have performed the pilgrimage to Mecca. Some fifteen or twenty years since, Shurmalkee was chiefly instrumental in saving part of the crew of the English brig, Mary Anne, then lying at anchor in the harbour of Berberah, which was attacked and burned during the night by the natives. He was himself wounded on the occasion, and the mate and three or four of the brig’s people murdered. The Indian Government rewarded him munificently at the time for his generous interference; and since then, finding him honest, intelligent, and grateful, they have always patronised him, allowing him in our eastern parts the privilege of a British subject, with liberty to hoist our flag in his bogalows. He is now our native agent in all transactions with the Soumaulee inhabitants of Berberah and Zeila. By his industry and enterprise he has become the richest man along this coast; nor is there scarcely a prince or petty chief in the adjoining countries who is not indebted to this African Rothschild.
We rested ourselves upon the only piece of furniture in the mat-walled room, a rude couch of wood with a bottom of interlaced palm-leaf rope, covered with a coarse Arab carpet of as many colours as Joseph’s jacket. We refused to take any refreshment, and sent immediately for the articles we wanted. As usual, the Islam spirit of despoiling the Christian exhibited itself in the exorbitant demands of the Arab merchants, but which in this case was defeated by the prompt interference of Shurmalkee, who dismissed them very summarily as much to ours as to their surprise. As soon as they were gone, however, he explained the cause, and promised to obtain the things himself, before we went on board, at half the price that had been demanded, desiring us not to take any farther trouble about them, but to proceed at once to view the town, at the same time supplying us, as is the custom of these people, with two natives for guides, and also as sureties for our safety and freedom from molestation during our walk.
The appointment of these sureties, or Abbahn, as each calls himself, to every stranger who enters the town, is a singular but very necessary characteristic of the social condition of the inhabitants of Berberah, and is deserving of particular notice. Convenience on the one hand and enterprise on the other, have here brought together the Hindoo Banyan, the Mahomedan Arab, and the Pagan Soumaulee; for even now scarcely one half of this latter people profess the Islam faith. With no generally acknowledged superior, no established law, each inhabitant depends upon his own keen knife, or that of his Abbahn, for personal safety and the security of his property. All are equally ready to resort to a bloody appeal upon the least cause of dispute, so that every day is marked by some fatal quarrel, and every night by some robbery and violent death. Even the murdering Danakil shakes his head when he speaks of the Fair of Berberah, denouncing it as being “shatan, shatan;” whilst the wisest and the best men of every nation or tribe, who are here assembled, speak openly their desire, that some powerful Islam, or even Feringee Government, should take actual possession, both of this port and of Zeila also. Under such circumstances, the foreign merchant, accustomed in his own country to the protection of law, or of some regularly established authority, consents but reluctantly, and then only from the prospect of immense gains, to risk his person among a people so violently barbarous as are the Adal tribes occupying this portion of Africa, who have lost none of their ancient character significantly recorded in the Periplus, as being “uncivilized, and under no restraint.” To protect himself in some measure the trader has recourse to the system of procuring the constant attendance of one or more of the natives, whose duty it is to guard their employer from molestation. Two-thirds of the Soumaulee population of the town are engaged in this manner. No sooner does a stranger arrive than he is surrounded by natives, each soliciting to be employed as his Abbahn, and are almost as importunate and as troublesome as the hotel-barkers who infest the piers of our watering-places. The important privilege of supplying strangers with Abbahns is monopolized by one tribe living in the neighbourhood of Berberah, called Raree-good-Hadé, but not without considerable opposition from another tribe called Raree-Abdullah, with whom serious conflicts sometimes take place within the town, when all business is suspended for three or four days in consequence.
Every ship, or bogalow, arriving at the port is boarded, at least a mile from the shore, by a crowd of Soumaulee Abbahns, and on the occasion of the Euphrates approaching Berberah, a number of these naked visitors, as I have before mentioned, swam from shore a very long distance and were taken on board.
Following Shurmalkee’s advice, we started, but certainly not to see the town, though we passed through it; for with eyes bent upon the ground, we carefully picked our way along the narrow street, not four feet wide, the tops of the stinking skin wigwams and mat-huts presenting one uniform dark level, just the height of our noses. The outskirts of the town were equally offensive, but more particularly marked by the vast quantity of bones of all eatable animals strewed about, and the vestiges of numerous cooking fires, everywhere telling of the sites of former houses, and that a few weeks before the fair must have been even more extensive. About half a mile to the left of the town, on a slightly elevated mound of sand and coral, was a ruined mosque, the only appearance of a stone building in the neighbourhood. To this we proceeded, our conversation turning upon the dirtiness of the town, its low flat appearance from every point of view, the singular character of its inhabitants, and the great importance Berberah might assume in the possession of some highly civilized country, (we meant Britain, of course,) as one point from whence to spread through Africa the benefits arising from science, and the happiness attendant upon a knowledge of the Christian faith.