I am still ignorant of the Pashas real opinion concerning my sincerity in professing the Mohammedan faith. He certainly treated me as a muselman, and I flattered myself that the boldness of my conduct at Tayf had convinced him that I was a true pro­selyte. As to the Kadhy, who was a shrewd Constantinopolitan, most people supposed that the Porte had sent him to watch the proceedings of Mohammed Aly, and give information accordingly to the Sultan; and it struck me that his behaviour towards myself was connected with an intention of accusing the Pasha, on his return to Constantinople, of having protected a Christian in his visit to the holy cities, a crime which would be considered unpar­donable in a Pasha. Mohammed Aly, after his return to Cairo,

[p.83] (where, contrary to his expectations, he again found me, and where I only saw him once,) took frequent opportunities, and indeed seemed anxious, to convince Mr. Salt and Mr. Lee, His Majestys and the Levant Companys consuls, as well as several English travellers of note who passed through Cairo, that he knew per­fectly well, in the Hedjaz, that I was no Moslem, but that his friendship for the English nation made him overlook the circum­stance, and permit me to impose upon the Kadhy. He entertained a notion, suggested to him by some of his Frank counsellors at Cairo, that, in some future account of my travels, I might perhaps boast of having imposed upon him, like Aly Bey el Abassi, whose work had just been received at Cairo, and who declares that he deceived not only the Pasha, but all the olemas, or learned men, of Cairo. To Mohammed Aly it was of more consequence not to be thought a fool than a bad muselman.

Notwithstanding these declarations of the Pasha to the English gentlemen, which were made in private, and certainly were not occasioned by any imprudent speeches of mine, I continued to live, after my return to Cairo, without molestation, as a Moslem, in the Turkish quarter. I have to thank him for his polite reception of me at Tayf, and for his having thrown no obstacles in the way of my travels through the Hedjaz.

I was at Mekka in December, and at Medina in the April following, when the Pasha was at both places; but I did not think it necessary or advisable to wait upon him at either place, where I was otherwise wholly unknown. My practice in travelling has been to live as retired as possible; and, except during my short visit to Tayf, where circumstances forced me to appear somewhat conspicuously, I was known only in the Hedjaz as a hadjy, or pilgrim, a private gentleman from Egypt, one with whom no person was acquainted but the few officers of the Pasha whom I had seen at Tayf.

My information respecting Tayf is very scanty, and was not

[p.84] committed to paper until after I had left the town. I was never suffered to be alone during my stay there. I had no acquaintances from whom much could be learned; and during the fast of Ramadhan, few individuals of the higher classes, among whom I lived, stir out of their houses in the day-time.

The town of Tayf is situated in the midst of a sandy plain, about four hours in circuit, overgrown with shombs, and encompassed by low mountains, called Djebal Ghazoan. These are subordinate ridges of the great chain, which, continuing for four or five hours farther east, are then lost in the plain. Tayf is an irregular square, of thirty-five minutes quick walking in circum­ference; it is inclosed with a wall and a ditch, newly constructed by Othman el Medhayfe. The wall has three gates, and is defended by several towers; but it is much less solid than the walls of Djidda, Medina, and Yembo, being in few places more than eighteen inches thick. On the west side, within the town, and forming a part of its wall, stands the castle, upon a rocky elevated site. It was built by Sherif Ghaleb, and has no claim to the title of a castle, except that it is larger than the other buildings in the town, and that its stone walls are stronger. Though it is now half ruined, Mohammed Aly had made this castle his head­quarters. The houses of the town are mostly small, but well built with stone: the sitting-rooms are on the upper floor; at least I saw no saloons on the ground-floor, as usual in Turkey. The streets are broader than those in most eastern towns. The only public place is in front of the castle, a large open space which serves for a market.

At present, Tayf may be described as in a state of ruin, for but few houses are in complete repair. Many of the buildings were destroyed by the Wahabys, when they took the town, in 1802; and as it has been almost abandoned since that period, every thing is hastening to decay. I saw two small mosques; the best, that of the Henoud, or Indians. The tomb of El Abbas, which had a good dome over it, and was often visited by pilgrims, has been entirely

[p.85] destroyed by the Wahabys. Excepting four or five buildings, now inhabited by the principal officers of the Pasha, I saw none above the most common size.

Tayf is supplied with water from two copious wells, one of which is within the walls, and the other just before one of the gates. The water is well-tasted, but heavy. The town is celebrated all over Arabia for its beautiful gardens; but these are situated at the foot of the mountains which encircle the sandy plain. I did not see any gardens, nor even a single tree within the walls; and the immediate neighbourhood is entirely destitute of verdure, which renders a residence here as melancholy as in any other city of Arabia. The nearest gardens appeared to be on the S.W. side, at the distance of about half or three quarters of an hour: on that side also stands a deserted suburb, separated from the town, with some date-trees among its ruins; it was abandoned long before the invasion of the Wahabys.