Wanderings in North Africa

by traveler James Hamilton

The Senusi is represented to me as all that an Arab saint should be—exact in the observances of religion, gay, and a capital shot; he rides a horse of the purest breed and of great value, dresses magnificently, paints his eyes with kohl and his beard with henna. He is very hospitable, and if the Gibely may be believed, has a granary which the large daily drafts he makes on it never empty; receiving nothing from any one, he has always money; and a hundred, or even two hundred, persons eat from his dish of cuscusu, which miraculously suffices for them all. The Senusi seems a man respectable for his talents and probity, though from the above history of him it may be supposed that he takes advantage of the veneration of his disciples to impose on their credulity. In the eyes of my Moghrabi friend, however, he is not the only living thaumaturge in Islam; for there are, he asserts, many individuals in Morocco, some of whom he knows personally, who pray every day at Mecca, and he told of one who, no saint himself, owed this favour to the sheikh he served. The event happened in Tunis. The servant wished to go on the pilgrimage, but from day to day his master dissuaded him, saying, “There is time, wait yet a little.” Thus passed the months; the festival was approaching, and still the sheikh answered, “You shall make this year’s pilgrimage, but there is still time.” At length the ninth of Til Hidj came, the very day of the sermon on Mount Arafat, when, about mid-day, the sheikh called him, and said, “Shut your eyes,” and “now open them.” He obeyed, and found himself with a multitude of people at Mount Arafat. He performed with them the ceremonies of the pilgrimage, joining in the processional prayers, and after this spoke to many of his Tunisian acquaintance. He said he should return before them, and offered to carry letters, many of which, sealed with their seals, and referring to their children and family affairs, were given to him. His master, who was with him all this time, then said, “Shut your eyes,” and in an instant he found himself again in Tunis, with his letters. He delivered them the next day; but, notwithstanding the evidence of the seals and the contents, the people, seeing the date, said, “He is an impostor.” “Wait,” was the answer, “till the return of the Hadj.” Meantime, at Arafat, his countrymen looked for him, and not seeing him, said among themselves, “He is gone back before us to Mecca;” but when after months they returned home, and each recognising his own letter asserted that he had sent it from Arafat, and had seen the bearer there, the people were convinced of the miracle.

Miracles performed by mad saints are not less firmly believed by my friend. There is such an one at Damanhur, and I had myself the pleasure of seeing him when there, who, clothed in the costume of Sultan Adam when he left the hands of his Creator, is building a mosque at Tunis. He goes every day to the Nile, and throws stones into it, which are at the same moment conveyed to Tunis, and arrange themselves in proper architectural design. He told of another at Tripoli, whose aid the crew of a ship at sea invoked in a storm, promising him a recompense if saved. He was at that moment in the bazaar; a man riding on a donkey was passing him, when he jumped up, as if possessed, from the stall he was sitting on, knocked the man from his seat, and ———. I should have continued the story in Arabic (my oracular tongue furnishing no terms in which to relate it), but I refrain, as the learned who could decipher the Arabic are probably sufficiently good Oriental scholars to fill up the blank in my narration. At this moment, said the truthful historian, he appeared to the mariners, and when, two days afterwards, the ship entered the port, the saint presented himself to claim his recompense. But the devil was no longer sick, and the sheikh’s salvage dues were now denied him. All the people, however, testified that the scene with the donkey in the market took place at the hour when his aid was invoked, and, thus convicted, the promised reward was given.

I might fill a volume with such strange tales, as the treasure-seeker’s visits are frequent; he had a well-supplied budget, and he freely communicated its contents, in the hope of drawing me out in turn. He certainly thought I had private information about the immense treasures which he believed buried here; and whatever the subject we were discussing, he always contrived to introduce in a corner of his talk, in angulo sui sermonis, a question relating to them, or an inquiry as to the process of rendering quicksilver solid. This was all that he was in need of to discover the grand arcanum for turning the baser metals into gold and silver. Did he know the quicksilver secret he was master of all the rest, and of acquiring this he did not at all despair. I told him that transmutation was a dream long exploded among the learned; but I offered him the receipt how to make rubies and other precious stones, only premising that the cost was greater than the value of the newly-formed gem.

Having presented the Gibely to my readers, as a good specimen of the fortune-seeking Moghrabi who abound in the East, it would not be fair to omit some account of Sheikh Yusuf—a much rarer character, because really an honest man; though the stories I am going to tell of him, gathered from his own lips, may not seem to European readers to bear out the fair praise I give him. He is a very remarkable man, full of energy, and has made the best use of the education which an early initiation in affairs gives. He knows the letters of the alphabet, and this is probably the whole amount of his book learning; but his memory is well stored with texts of the Koran, verses of the poets, and those stories which are so pre-eminently an Oriental accomplishment, and which he related with a vivacity remarkable in this country of loutish stupidity. His father was Sheikh el Beled before him, and at thirteen he was also sheikh, giving his opinion freely, even against his father’s views. When he was less than seventeen his father was murdered in open day, by some of the discontented Siwy, one of his own servants heading the conspiracy. Yusuf, thereupon, proceeded straight to Cairo, and was by Mohammed Ali appointed Sheikh el Beled in his room. The Pacha had given Siwah and the Little Oasis, with their revenues, as a backshish to one Hassan Bey, who had reduced them to his obedience; and the Sheikh told with gusto some stories of that time, which are too characteristic to be omitted here.

When his father went to the Proprietor-Governor, he used to take Yusuf with him, to make him acquainted with affairs; but only as a listener. One day in the date season, a large number of Arabs, with their camels, had come from the Okbar, or, as it is called here, the Gazelle-land, to purchase dates. Hassan Bey coveted his neighbours’ camels, but was perplexed how to become master of them without injury to his purse, or incurring Mohammed Ali’s anger. He consulted Sheikh Ali, who would give no advice, but only shook his head, and said, “Tyranny, tyranny.” “I’ll tell you what you should do,” cried Yusuf, eagerly. “What shall I do, my child?” “You shall buy them for fifteen dollars a-piece, and lose nothing by the transaction.” He then explained his plan, which delighted the Bey; but his father only shook his head the more, and oftener repeated, “Tyranny.” “You, Sheikh Ali,” said the Bey, “are a graybeard, and do not understand government. Sheikh Yusuf is young and brave, and I will follow his advice.” The next day the Arabs were told that the Bey wanted to buy some of their camels, and that they must bring them to the castle in the afternoon. Accordingly, before evening, more than three hundred of the best camels were collected in the court; and the Bey having ordered several sheep to be killed, invited the owners of the camels to sup with him. After supper, the bargain was struck for fifteen dollars a-piece, the Mufti and Cadi being called to witness the agreement, which was drawn out in writing. All parties affixed their seals, and the money was paid down at once. After this, the Mufti and Cadi rose to leave, and all were going to retire from the castle, when the Bey said to the Arabs, “You are my guests; you must stay here all night, and we will breakfast together in the morning.” The bait was tempting to men who love animal food at the cost of their friends; and the foolish Arabs remained after the others had withdrawn. The next morning some more sheep were sacrificed to the genius of hospitality; the Arabs ate with their usual appetite, and took their departure; but, as they passed out of the gates, each was forced to restore the money he had received for his camels. Thus Hassan Bey purchased camels without their costing him anything.

On another occasion, Yusuf helped him to make a not less profitable speculation in oxen and cows. There were many defaulters to the miri; and his father and the Bey were in consultation as to the way to get from them their debt, or its equivalent. There were many cattle in Siwah at that time, and Sheikh Ali proposed to take them in payment, at ten dollars a-head, which was rather less than their value; but Yusuf said, “No; take them at forty dollars a-head, and follow my plan.” “What is your plan?” “When the dates are gathered, return their oxen to the owners, making them buy them back at the original price, and take from them the amount of miri that they owe in money.” At so large a price, everybody was anxious to give his cows instead of the miri and the Governor—good-natured soul!—gave them credit for forty dollars on each one that was offered; but sent the cattle back to their owners, saying he would take them when wanted. In October, there was a plentiful date harvest, and the Bey was chuckling over his intended finesse, when it occurred to him that many of the cattle had died during the heats of summer. He sent for Yusuf, to see if he could help him out of this dilemma. “To those whose cows are alive, return them at the original price; and as for the others, it is but just they should refund you the forty dollars which their oxen cost, as they have never served you, but remained and died in their keeping.” Thus, by a truly Turkish calculation, the Bey bought cows without paying for them, and sold them for ready money to their original owners, who were then made to pay their arrears of taxes, as if there had been no question of cattle; and who do not, perhaps, at this hour understand how so fair a transaction resulted to themselves in a clear loss of forty dollars on each of their beeves.

His own father was once the object of Yusuf’s practical pleasantries. The town had rebelled, and the ringleaders of the revolt were imprisoned in the castle. Sheikh Ali received money from two of the worst, on the promise of obtaining their liberty, and in the afternoon went to the Bey to intercede for them; and being a favourite with the Governor, he easily procured an assurance that they should be liberated next morning. Yusuf learned what had passed; so, after supper, he set off alone for the castle, and asked admittance to the Bey. “What brings you at this hour, my son?” said he, after the first salutation. “My father came here to-day to ask for the liberty of such and such a one. Do you wish to know the exact truth?” “Certainly I do; speak.” “Well, then, know that, in truth, they are the worst men in Siwah; but my father has taken a bribe to procure their pardon.” At this the Bey was very angry; and, calling to the guard, he had the prisoners brought out and beheaded on the spot. Yusuf returned home; and, next morning, when he came to release them, his father found their headless bodies lying in the court. “Of course,” said I, “your father returned the money?” “To whom?” said Yusuf. “The men were dead; and there was no one could say to my father, ‘You took a bribe—return the money!’”

After telling these stories of my sheikh, it may seem incredible when I add that, though feared as a most severe man, he was acknowledged by all the Siwy never to have taken a bribe, or committed an act of oppression on his own account. “If you do not do such things for yourself,” I said, “how can you commit them for others?” He answered that the Osmanli only value a man as he serves them as an instrument of extortion.

My long detention in Siwah must, by this time, have become as wearisome to my reader as it was to myself; let me hasten, then, to open my prison-doors, and pursue my journey to its end.

On the 14th of March, exactly six weeks from my arrival, about sunset, there came running to my house some of my Siwy friends, crying “Backshish for good news!” Two Arabs were to be seen in the distance, who, soon after, arrived, and announced themselves as two sheikhs, and very important and big-mouthed personages they were. They were the avant-couriers of the detachment of irregular cavalry (Bashi-buzuks), whom the Viceroy of Egypt had sent to my assistance. One would have thought them the kings of the world, from the airs they gave themselves, and the monstrous lies they told; and had I been less accustomed to the assumption of consequence in which Arabs, and, indeed, all Easterns, indulge, until they have received a good lesson, I should have been really frightened at having to entertain such important gentlemen. They came to demand rations for the men and horses, which were to be furnished by the town; and, as a matter of course, ordered twice as much as was really required; and, equally as a matter of course, hardly got, I believe, half of what they demanded. This contribution was, at my request, levied on the hostile part of the town, and my friends escaped unmolested. It was not until the 16th, in the morning, that my deliverers arrived, having come from Hhosh ebn Issa, near Damanhur, in nineteen days. They were commanded by a Turcoman, one Hassan Aga, the wahil, or major of the regiment, an easy-natured soul, somewhat sulky withal, as assuming as all Turks are, but only requiring to be held firmly in hand, and an assiduous sayer of his prayers.