I must be satisfied with having been at Meroe, on the site of the capital of Ethiopia, which appears to me a satisfactory termination to my more important labours in the lower part of the valley of the Nile; and when the reader considers that I have now been nearly fourteen months above Cairo, leading almost the life of an Arab, without any of the comforts and charms of the civilised world, I think he will not reproach me for not extending my travels to Sennaar and the banks of the White River. Indeed, even had not a private duty obliged me to return to England, I should not, I think, have gone very much farther south, as I could spend my time much more usefully at Thebes; for, except those in the desert, there are no antiquities beyond this point.
As to the modern capitals of Ethiopia, nothing can be more miserable than those I have already seen. Sennaar, I am told, great, splendid, and beautiful as the Arabs represent it, is very little larger, and has not much more the appearance of a capital, than Shendy, which, as I have said before, cannot be compared to many of the small towns in Egypt. The poetical minds of the Arabs are fond of describing in glowing terms the beauty of distant objects; as the ancients placed the Garden of the Hesperides in the most remote region; but the descriptions of modern travellers, and the accounts of many sensible Turks, have satisfied me that Sennaar is not worth half a day’s journey, and certainly not twenty-two, which would be necessary to go thither and return.
As to the Bahr el Abiad, or White River, it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to penetrate to any distance on its banks; and it is now more than ever impracticable to attempt the discovery of its source. The Governor at Kordofan has his gazwah, or hunt for slaves, on the banks of that river: there is, therefore, scarcely a family in that part that has not lost some relation,—fathers their sons, husbands their wives, brothers their sisters, children their parents,—and all would rejoice to avenge their loss on the first white man who should imprudently venture into their territory. The source of the Nile could only, I conceive, be discovered by an armed force; and even that method would present great difficulties. It would require a large army to subdue the great extent of country through which the Bahr el Abiad probably passes. Not only the chiefs, but the whole population, instead of any of them joining the standard of the invader, or furnishing him with provisions, would resolutely oppose him. Each man would fight with desperation for the preservation of his property, family, and liberty. The Shillooks, Numrum, and other brave and warlike tribes on the White River, are not ignorant of the wretched lot of their brethren in Cairo. Many a fugitive slave has carried the intelligence to his tribe of the misery and hardships they endured after they were taken prisoners; their sufferings from the scanty allowance of water in the desert; the numbers who perished from fatigue, heat, and thirst; their painful journey on foot, bound in the most cruel manner; their wretched food; their ignominious exposure for sale in the Cairo market; and, perhaps, the cruelty of their taskmasters. These are injuries, I think, sufficient to sharpen their sabres, and inflame their hatred and thirst for revenge, on all Mahometans and white men. The traveller being French or English would be of no avail. They distinguish but two races, Pagan and Mahometan, and two colours, black and white, their friends and enemies.
As to the source of the Bahr el Abiad, and the situation of the Mountains of the Moon, as the Arabs of this neighbourhood have never been there, or seen any person who has visited either the one or the other, their suppositions are not worth more, if so much, as the conjectures of any intelligent man in London. I think it more candid to confess that these subjects are still involved in a mystery, which the armies of the Pasha may possibly one day clear up; yet he can never subdue that country with the facility with which he made himself master of the valley of the Nile: the difference of creed, and the deep-rooted hatred against him which prevails there, would oblige him almost to exterminate the whole population before he could enjoy a peaceable possession of the territory. If his ambitious views are diverted by European interference from another track with his immense resources, large and disciplined army, and the great superiority derived from fire-arms and artillery, he might penetrate even to the source of the White River, and solve that problem which has perplexed the literary men of every age. No private individual would be so rash as to attempt this discovery. Were there any possibility of success, for the hope of immortality, men could be found to encounter fearlessly the heat and fatigue, and other ordinary dangers of the journey; but no one would be so foolish as to expose himself to the certain death which would be the result of any attempt made at this period.
This discovery would have been more easily accomplished before the Pasha’s conquest; before the war of colour, if I may so describe it, commenced: but there does not seem to have been any recent intercourse between the inhabitants of the kingdom of Shendy and the tribes on the banks of the White River. If any credit can be given to the accounts of the Arabs, there are cannibals not very far up its stream. I was told that twenty days above its junction with the Bahr el Azruk, there is a tribe of Arabs mixed with the Pagans. I can scarcely believe this latter statement, otherwise it would present a somewhat less difficult method of penetrating to a certain distance. I have been assured by several Arab merchants, and also Turks, that the water of the river is less sweet than that of the Azruk, that the caravans stationed on what they call the Island, between the two rivers, universally prefer the water of the latter. The Egyptians, therefore, are indebted to the Azruk for the singular sweetness of the waters of the Nile. The Arab’s invariable description of the Bahr el Abiad is, that it has waves like the Red Sea, but the current is not powerful like that of the Blue River; that a boat would sail rapidly up, on account of the prevailing northerly winds, but it would be more difficult to descend. It is not improbable that the reason of the superior rapidity of the Blue River is its greater proximity to its source in the mountains, whilst the Bahr el Abiad may pass through immense districts, where the surface is more level and uniform.
Of the inundation of the Nile I will speak hereafter; only remarking at present, that during the whole of this journey I have not met one sensible Arab, who was ignorant that the rains in Ethiopia were followed by the rise of the river, and that, according to the wetness of the season, the inundation was more or less beneficial. I do not mean to say that they are acquainted with the real causes of those rains,—the rarefying of the air by the sun in his approach towards the tropic, and the consequent rush of vapour from the neighbouring seas; but the circumstance of the peasants here all being aware of the rain as the season of the inundation, excites my surprise how the ancients, particularly as many of them visited Meroe, could be so ill acquainted with, or, indeed, have the slightest doubt of, the true cause. The flourishing state of the country at that period, and the probable extent of its commerce, renders this still more singular. If they had not been actual witnesses to the tropical rains, (and, according to Pliny, many were,) they must have heard of them, over and over again, from authentic sources. The most uneducated peasant in Europe, were he to see the rain fall in torrents for a long period, the little rivulets running into a river in his vicinity, and yet not be aware why the latter was swollen, would be considered to display a tenfold degree of stupidity. It can only be accounted for by their preferring to ornament their works with ingenious speculations rather than admit an explanation which they could not account for.[22] We arrived at Shendy this evening at nine.
Metammah.—March 12. This morning the katshef at Shendy, with his servants and dependants, went through the Mameluke exercise for our amusement. Six entered the list on each side. Their lances were stalks of the palm tree, about four or five feet long. The combatants were about 300 or 400 yards apart at the commencement, but when the contest became more animated, not more than 100. Each one sallied out when he liked, armed with a single lance, and, when there was no opponent in the field, rode near the opposite party, and generally, when at the distance of from twenty to thirty feet, flung his lance at his adversaries within their limits, to excite them to come forth; otherwise, when the field was full, at those who were galloping back from pursuing their adversaries. The attacked party trusted to the speed of the horse to save him from the lance of the one who followed him, who, having in his turn flung his lance, was rode after by another of the opposite party, and thus the ball was spiritedly kept up. The requisites for these manœuvres are, perfect management of his horse, dexterity in avoiding his adversary’s lance, and catching it, if possible, with his hand, which enables him to turn again upon the assailant. They are only, as I have said, allowed to go out with one lance, and when they have thrown it, are dependent on their agility, and the swiftness of their horses, to save themselves from their pursuers; but the qualities most admired, and most necessary, are strength and dexterity in throwing the lance, and fearless indifference to blows. Each well-directed and successful aim was hailed with a shout of admiration, and those who seemed to fear the contest were evidently despised. The exercise is fine, but the wounds received are sometimes not slight. There is no ostensible respect of persons. The servant throws his lance at his master, and the master at the servant; yet, somehow, the katshef escaped always amid the numbers of lances which were showered around him: a clever courtier knows how to direct his aim. Between the servants the game sometimes became serious, and blows were exchanged with the appearance of real enmity.
I saw this morning a number of mats and baskets made by the women, some of which are very beautiful. They make here, also, very neat sandals, almost exactly resembling those of the ancients. At noon I crossed to Metammah. I found that the katshef was absent. The soldier he had deputed to perform the duties of his office promised me eight camels, to cross the desert of Bahiouda to Meroueh.