The cultivators of the many Máshámbá prefer to sleep upon the mainland, yet here there is no mud: the air is said to be far purer than that of modern Kilwa, and the only endemic is a mild Mkunguru—ague and fever. One of the Fungwi or peasants welcomed us to his hut, and some twenty of his neighbours crowded to ‘interview’ us, and to sell cocoas at the rate of 30 per dollar. They declared that the cholera had been very destructive, but that its violence had lately abated: they could not supply us with milk because the herdsmen were dead. They boasted that none of their race had mixed with Muhadímo or servile Wasawahili, and without being uncivil, they were free, and by no means shy, evidently holding that maître charbonnier est maire chez lui.
In view of the ruins they recounted to us their garbled legendary history. The Island was originally inhabited by the Wahiao savages, from whom the present race partly descends, and Songo Mnárá was occupied by the Wadubuki, a Moslem clan. These were succeeded by the Nabhani or Ghafiri Arabs, the builders of the mosque just visited, and in the days of Ibn Batuta (14th cent.) we find that ‘the Sultan of Oman was of the tribe of Azud, son of El Ghaus, who is known by the name of Abu Mohammed, son of Nabhan.’ They died out, however, and left the land once more to the Washenzi. Then came the rule of the Wagemu, especially the Wasongo, a tribe of Shirazis.[[71]] A certain Shaykh Yusuf from Shangaya[[72]] bought land from Napendu, the heathen headman, by spreading it over with cloth, built the old fort, won the savage’s daughter, slew his father-in-law, and became the sire of a long race of Shirazi ‘Kings of the Zinj.’
The history of Kilwa is probably better known, thanks to its chronicle found by the Portuguese, than any place on the East coast of Africa. It is the usual document of Moslems and Easterns, amongst whom the man reigns, a roster of rulers, with a long string of their battles, marches, and sudden dethronings. Kilwa was to Southern what Mombasah was to Northern Zanzibar, a centre of turmoil and trouble. Founded in our 10th century, and probably upon a far older site, its rule eventually extended northwards to Mombasah, others say to Melinde, and south to the gold regions about Sofala. The first European visitor was Pedralves Cabral, the accidental discoverer of the Brazil: he anchored here on July 26, 1500. The great port was then ruled by a certain Sultan Ibrahim, murderer and usurper: the Shaykhs took the royal title, and were known to the Wasawahili as Mfalme, a term changed by El Masudi to Oklimen or Oklimin. ‘The rulers of Zenj,’ says the Nubian Geographer, ‘are entitled Oklimen, which means the son of the great master, that is to say, the God of heaven and earth: they call the Creator Tamkalanjalo.’ Cabral was welcomed by the chief; but his lieges, more perspicacious than their ruler, began at once to show their ill-will, and the voyager continued his progress towards India. Kilwa was also visited by João da Nova, by Vasco da Gama, who on his second journey, in 1502, took tribute from Sultan Ibrahim, and by Ruy Lourenço Ravasco, when en route for Zanzibar. In July, 1505, D. Francisco d’Almeyda, first viceroy of Portuguese India, landed a force of 500 men and fired the city. Sultan Ibrahim fled, and was duly deposed in favour of one Mohammed Ankoni, who had proved himself a friend to the Europeans: he preferred, however, placing the power in the hands of Micante (?), the only son left by the murdered Sultan Alfudayl (El Fuzayl). The small fort of Santiago was built, and the citizens consented to pay tribute and to acknowledge the sovereignty of D. Manoel.
Discontent soon showed itself: trade with Sofala had been forbidden to the citizens, and the latter fled to other cities on the coast. Mohammed Ankoni was presently murdered by the intrigues of the deposed Sultan Ibrahim; and the viceroy, D’Almeyda, sent Gonçalo Vaz de Goes with orders to punish the crime. The Captain of Kilwa, Pedo Ferreira, had raised the Wasawahili of Songo Mnárá Island, and preferred for the succession Micante to Ali Hosayn, the son of Mohammed. In December, 1506, Vaz de Goes landed at Kilwa, and restored its ancient prosperity by putting an end to the monopolies of trade, and the vexations caused by the cupidity of the Portuguese. After his departure, however, Ali Hosayn managed to obtain the Sultanship, and attacked with great loss the Shaykh of Tirendiconde, who had actually murdered his father. The pride and extortions of the new Sultan soon offended his subjects; he was deposed by orders of the Viceroy, and he died in obscurity at Mombasah.
Micante, once more confirmed as Sultan, proved himself a greater plague than Ali Hosayn, but he managed to secure the interest of Francisco Pereira Pestana. This ‘Captain of Kilwa’ aided in attacking the deposed Ibrahim, but the Portuguese garrison was reduced to 40 sound men. Hearing the danger of his subjects, D. Manoel ordered the Viceroy to raze the fort of Santiago, and to transfer Pestana to Socotra, which had just been occupied by the Lusitanians, and from which they expected great benefits in their wars with the Turks. Thereupon Ibrahim returned again to his own, Micante fled to the Querimba Islands, where he died in misery, and the former, made wiser by adversity, restored Kilwa to her old prosperity, and charged his sons never to fail in fidelity to Portugal.
In 1598 the capital of Southern Zanzibar was attacked by the Wazimba Kafirs, who afterwards commited such ravages at Mombasah. A traitorous Moor made conditions for himself and his family, and pointed out a ford over which the invader could pass at low tide. The savages fell upon the city at night, massacred those who could not save themselves by flight, destroyed the buildings, and carried off 3000 persons, male and female, who, according to Diogo do Couto, were incontinently devoured.
The Yu’rabi ruler, Sayf bin Sultan, after driving the Portuguese from Mombasah (1698), sent his powerful fleet to Zanzibar and Kilwa, which at once accepted his rule. A temporary return of the Europeans took place in 1728, when the Capt.-General Luiz Mello de Sampayo re-established the rule of his king from Patta to Kilwa. Ahmed bin Said el Hináwi rising to power (1744), contented himself with annually sending to the Zanzibar coast as far as Kilwa three or four ships, which brought away the rich exports of the neighbourhood—gold, ivory, and slaves. The name of Kilwa now rarely occurs in history. Late in the last century the French here attempted to form a slave depôt, which led to the out-station being re-occupied by Zanzibar. The Shirazis, however, held the land till the late Sayyid Said seized and deported to Maskat Muammadi, their last sultan, and thus the tribe was scattered abroad.
Such is the present state of a settlement which in 1500 the Portuguese found prosperous to the highest degree, and ruling the Zangian coast to Mozambique and Sofala. Every blessing save that of beauty has now passed away from it, and instead of ‘cet éternel nuage de fumée qui dort sur les toits, et le bourdonnement lointain de la ruche immense,’ we see the wild ‘smokes’ of the tropical coast, and we hear the scream of the seamew harshly invading the silence and solitude of a city in ruins.
Returning to Kivinjya, we consulted the Wali and the principal inhabitants about the feasibility of a march upon the Nyassa or Southern Lake—here, as at Zanzibar, not a soul confounded it with the Tanganyika. All agreed that it was then impossible. The slaves were dead or sold off, and porters would not be procurable on account of the cholera: perhaps, however, we might succeed by awaiting the arrival of the first caravans in June. This delay we could not afford, our time was becoming short, our means shorter, and the climate of Kilwa was doing us no good. Evidently the exploration of the Nyassa was a matter of too much importance to be tacked on to an expedition as its tail-piece.
Unwillingly but perforce we turned, on February 24, 1859, the Batela’s head northwards. Though the wet season did not set in till March 20, the weather was especially vile,—a succession of pertinacious calms, violent tornadoes of wind and rain, and cloudy weather with not enough of blue sky to make a ribbon. At last, after nine days of thorough discomfort, we ran into Zanzibar harbour before the mildest of sea-breezes.