These letters were all sealed with the seal of the Sultan.

Hámma showed me also another letter which he had received from the Sultan, and which I think interesting enough to be here inserted, as it is a faithful image of the turbulent state of the country at that time, and as it contains the simple expression of the sincere and just proceedings of the new Sultan. Its purport was as follows, though the language in which it is written is so incorrect that several passages admit of different interpretations:—

The whole population was in alarm, and everybody who was able to bear arms prepared for the expedition. About sunset the “égehen” left the town, numbering about four hundred men, partly on camels, partly on horseback, besides the people on foot. Bóro as well as Áshu accompanied the Sultan, who this time was himself mounted on a camel. They went to take their encampment near that of Astáfidet, in Tagúrast, ʿAbd el Káder pitching a tent of grey colour, and in size like that of a Turkish aghá, in the midst of the Kél-gerés, the Kél-ferwán, and the Emgedesíye; while Astáfidet, who had no tent, was surrounded by the Kél-owí. The Sultan was kind and attentive enough not to forget me even now; and having heard that I had not yet departed, Hámma not having finished his business in the town, he sent me some wheat, a large botta with butter and vegetables (chiefly melons and cucumbers), and the promise of another sheep.

In the evening the drummer again went his rounds through the town, proclaiming the strict order of the Sultan that everybody should lay in a large supply of provisions. Although the town in general had become very silent when deserted by so many people, our house was kept in constant bustle, and in the course of the night three mehára came from the camp, with people who could get no supper there, and sought it with us. Bóro sent a messenger to me early the next morning, urgently begging for a little powder, as the “Mehárebín” of the Imghád had sent off their camels and other property, and were determined to resist the army of the Sultan. However, I could send him but very little. My amusing friend Mohammed spent the whole day with us, when he went to join the ghazzia. I afterwards learnt that he obtained four head of cattle as his share. There must be considerable herds of cattle in the more favoured valleys of Asben; for the expedition had nothing else to live upon, as Mohammed afterwards informed me, and slaughtered an immense quantity of them. Altogether, the expedition was successful, and the Fádë-ang and many tribes of the Imghád lost almost all their property. Even the influential Háj Beshír was punished, on account of his son having taken part in the expedition against us. I received also the satisfactory information that ʿAbd el Káder had taken nine camels from the man who retained my méheri; but I gained nothing thereby, neither my own camel being returned nor another given me in its stead. The case was the same with all our things; but nevertheless the proceeding had a good effect, seeing that people were punished expressly for having robbed Christians, and thus the principle was established that it was not less illegal to rob Christians than it was to rob Mohammedans, both creeds being placed, as far as regards the obligations of peace and honesty, on equally favourable terms.

Tuesday, October 22.—I spent the whole of Tuesday in my house, principally in taking down information which I received from the intelligent Ghadámsi merchant Mohammed, who, having left his native town from fear of the Turks, had resided six years in Ágades, and was a well-informed man.

Wednesday, October 23.—My old friend the blacksmith Hámmeda, and the tall Elíyas, went off this morning with several camels laden with provisions, while Hámma still stayed behind to finish the purchases; for on account of the expedition, and the insecure state of the road to Damerghú, it had been difficult to procure provisions in sufficient quantity. Our house therefore became almost as silent and desolate as the rest of the town; but I found a great advantage in remaining a few days longer, for my chivalrous friend and protector, who, as long as the Sultan and the great men were present, had been very reserved and cautious, had now no further scruple about taking me everywhere, and showing me the town “within and without.”

We first visited the house of Ídder, a broker, who lived at a short distance to the south from our house, and had also lodged Háj ʿAbdúwa during his stay here. It was a large, spacious dwelling, well arranged with a view to comfort and privacy, according to the conception and customs of the inhabitants, while our house (being a mere temporary residence for Ánnur’s people occasionally visiting the town) was a dirty, comfortless abode. We entered first a vestibule, about twenty-five feet long and nine broad, having on each side a separate space marked off by that low kind of balustrade mentioned in my description of the Sultan’s house. This vestibule or ante-room was followed by a second room of larger size and irregular arrangement; opposite the entrance it opened into another apartment, which, with two doors, led into a spacious inner courtyard, which was very irregularly circumscribed by several rooms projecting into it, while to the left it was occupied by an enormous bedstead (1). These bedsteads are a most characteristic article of furniture in all the dwellings of the Sónghay. In Ágades they are generally very solidly built of thick boards, and furnished with a strong canopy resting upon four posts, covered with mats on the top and on three sides, the remaining side being shut in with boards. Such a canopied bed looks like a little house by itself. On the wall of the first chamber, which on the right projected into the courtyard, several lines of large pots had been arranged, one above the other (2), forming so many warm nests for a number of turtle-doves which were playing all about the courtyard; while on the left, in the half-decayed walls of two other rooms (3), about a dozen goats were fastened each to a separate pole. The background of the courtyard contained several rooms, and in front of it a large shade (4) had been built of mats, forming a rather pleasant and cool resting-place. Numbers of children were gambolling about, who gave to the whole a very cheerful appearance. There is something very peculiar in these houses, which are constructed evidently with a view to comfort and quiet enjoyment.

We then went to visit a female friend of Hámma, who lived in the south quarter of the town, in a house which likewise bespoke much comfort; but here, on account of the number of inmates, the arrangement was different, the second vestibule being furnished on each side with a large bedstead instead of mats, though here also there was in the courtyard an immense bedstead. The courtyard was comparatively small, and a long corridor on the left of it led to an inner courtyard or “tsakangída,” which I was not allowed to see. The mistress of the house was still a very comely person, although she had borne several children. She had a fine figure, though rather under the middle size, and a fair complexion. I may here remark that many of the women of Ágades are not a shade darker than Arab women in general. She wore a great quantity of silver ornaments, and was well dressed in a gown of coloured cotton and silk. Hámma was very intimate with her, and introduced me to her as his friend and protégé, whom she ought to value as highly as himself. She was married, but her husband was residing in Kátsena, and she did not seem to await his return in the Penelopean style. The house had as many as twenty inmates, there being no less than six children, I think, under five years of age, and among them a very handsome little girl, the mother’s favourite; besides, there were six or seven full-grown slaves. The children were all naked, but wore ornaments of beads and silver.

After we had taken leave of this Emgedesíye lady, we followed the street towards the south, where there were some very good houses, although the quarter in general was in ruins; and here I saw the very best and most comfortable-looking dwelling in the town. All the pinnacles were ornamented with ostrich eggs. One will often find in an eastern town, after the first impression of its desolate appearance is gone by, many proofs that the period of its utter prostration is not yet come, but that even in the midst of the ruins there is still a good deal of ease and comfort. Among the ruins of the southern quarter are to be seen the pinnacled walls of a building of immense circumference and considerable elevation; but unfortunately I could not learn from Hámma for what purpose it had been used; however, it was certainly a public building, and probably a large khán rather than the residence of the chief. With its high, towering walls, it still forms a sort of outwork on the south side of the town, where in general the wall is entirely destroyed, and the way is everywhere open. Hámma had a great prejudice against this desolate quarter. Even the more intelligent Mohammedans are often afraid to enter former dwelling-places of men, believing them to be haunted by spirits; but he took me to some inhabited houses, which were all built on the same principle as that described, but varying greatly in depth and in the size of the courtyard; the staircases (abi-n-háwa) leading to the upper story are in the courtyard, and are rather irregularly built of stones and clay. In some of them young ostriches were running about. The inhabitants of all the houses seemed to have the same cheerful disposition, and I was glad to find scarcely a single instance of misery. I give here the ground-plan of another house.

The artisans who work in leather (an occupation left entirely to females) seem to live in a quarter by themselves, which originally was quite separated from the rest of the town by a sort of gate; but I did not make a sufficient survey of this quarter to mark it distinctly on the ground-plan of the town. We also visited some of the mat-makers.

Our maimólo of the other day, who had discovered that we had slaughtered our sheep, paid us a visit in the evening, and for a piece of meat entertained me with a clever performance on his instrument, accompanied with a song. Hámma spent his evening with our friend the Emgedesíye lady, and was kind enough to beg me to accompany him. This I declined, but gave him a small present to take to her.

I had a fair sample of the state of morals in Ágades the following day, when five or six girls and women came to pay me a visit in our house, and with much simplicity invited me to make merry with them, there being now, as they said, no longer reason for reserve, “as the Sultan was gone.” It was indeed rather amusing to see what conclusions they drew from the motto “Serki yátafi.” Two of them were tolerably pretty and well-formed, with fine black hair hanging down in plaits or tresses, lively eyes, and very fair complexion. Their dress was decent, and that of one of them even elegant, consisting of an under-gown reaching from the neck to the ankles, and an upper one drawn over the head, both of white colour; but their demeanour was very free, and I too clearly understood the caution requisite in a European who would pass through these countries unharmed and respected by the natives, to allow myself to be tempted by these wantons. It would be better for a traveller in these regions, both for his own comfort and for the respect felt for him by the natives, if he could take his wife with him; for these simple people do not understand how a man can live without a partner. The Western Tuarek, who in general are very rigorous in their manners, and quite unlike the Kél-owí, had nothing to object against me except my being a bachelor. But as it is difficult to find a female companion for such journeys, and as by marrying a native he would expose himself to much trouble and inconvenience on the score of religion, he will do best to maintain the greatest austerity of manners with regard to the other sex, though he may thereby expose himself to a good deal of derision from some of the lighter-hearted natives. The ladies, however, became so troublesome that I thought it best to remain at home for a few days, and was thus enabled at the same time to note down the information which I had been able to pick up. During these occupations I was greatly pleased with the companionship of a diminutive species of finches which frequent all the rooms in Ágades, and, as I may add from later experience, in Timbúktu also; the male, with its red neck, in particular looks extremely pretty. The poults were just about to fledge.

Sunday, October 27.—There was one very characteristic building in the town, which, though a most conspicuous object from the terrace of our house, I had never yet investigated with sufficient accuracy. This was the mesállaje, or high tower rising over the roof of the mosque. The reason why this building in particular (the most famous and remarkable one in the town) had been hitherto observed by me only from a distance, and in passing by, must be obvious. Difference of religious creed repelled me from it; and so long as the town was full of strangers, some of them very fanatical, it was dangerous for me to approach it too closely. I had often inquired whether it would not be possible to ascend the tower without entering the mosque; but I had always received for answer that the entrance was locked up. As soon, however, as the Sultan was gone, and when the town became rather quiet, I urged Hámma to do his best that I might ascend to the top of this curious building, which I represented to him as a matter of the utmost importance to me, since it would enable me not only to control my route by taking a few angles of the principal elevations round the valley Aúderas, but also to obtain a distant view over the country towards the west and south, which it was not my good luck to visit myself. To-day Hámma promised me that he would try what could be done.

Having once more visited the lively house of Ídder, we took our way over the market-places, which were now rather dull. The vultures looked out with visible greediness and eagerness from the pinnacles of the ruined walls around for their wonted food—their share of offal during these days, when so many people were absent, being of course much reduced, though some of them probably had followed their fellow-citizens on the expedition. So few people being in the streets, the town had a more ruined look than ever, and the large heap of rubbish accumulated on the south side of the butchers’ market seemed to me more disgusting than before. We kept along the principal street between Dígi and Arrafíya, passing the deep well Shedwánka on our right, and on the other side a school, which resounded with the shrill voices of about fifty little boys repeating with energy and enthusiasm the verses of the Kurán, which their master had written for them upon their little wooden tablets. Having reached the open space in front of the mosque, and there being nobody to disturb me, I could view at my leisure this simple but curious building, which in the subsequent course of my journey became still more interesting to me, as I saw plainly that it was built on exactly the same principle as the tower which rises over the sepulchre of the famed conqueror Háj Mohammed Áskiá (the “Ischia” of Leo).

The mesállaje starts up from the platform or terrace formed by the roof of the mosque, which is extremely low, resting apparently, as we shall see, in its interior, upon four massive pillars. It is square, and measures at its base about thirty feet, having a small lean-to, on its east side, on the terrace of the mosque, where most probably there was formerly the entrance. From this the tower rises (decreasing in width, and with a sort of swelling or entasis in the middle of its elevation, something like the beautiful model adopted by nature in the deléb palm, and imitated by architects in the columns of the Ionic and Corinthian orders) to a height of from ninety to ninety-five feet. It measures at its summit not more than about eight feet in width. The interior is lighted by seven openings on each side. Like most of the houses in Ágades, it is built entirely of clay; and in order to strengthen a building so lofty and of so soft a material, its four walls are united by thirteen layers of boards of the dúm-tree, crossing the whole tower in its entire breadth and width, and coming out on each side from three to four feet, while at the same time they afford the only means of getting to the top. Its purpose is to serve as a watch-tower, or at least was so at a former time, when the town, surrounded by a strong wall and supplied with water, was well capable of making resistance, if warned in due time of an approaching danger. But at present it seems rather to be kept in repair only as a decoration of the town.

The mesállaje in its present state was only six years old at the time of my visit (in 1850), and perhaps was not even quite finished in the interior, as I was told that the layers of boards were originally intended to support a staircase of clay. About fifty paces from the south-western corner of the mosque, the ruins of an older tower are seen still rising to a considerable height, though leaning much to one side, more so than the celebrated Tower of Pisa, and most probably in a few years it will give way to an attack of storm and rain. This more ancient tower seems to have stood quite detached from the mosque.

Having sufficiently surveyed the exterior of the tower, and made a sketch of it, I accompanied my impatient companion into the interior of the mosque, into which he felt no scruple in conducting me. The lowness of the structure had already surprised me from without; but I was still more astonished when I entered the interior, and saw that it consisted of low, narrow naves, divided by pillars of immense thickness, the reason of which it is not possible at present to understand, as they have nothing to support but a roof of dúm-tree boards, mats, and a layer of clay; but I think it scarcely doubtful that originally these naves were but the vaults or cellars of a grand superstructure, designed but not executed; and this conjecture seems to be confirmed by all that at present remains of the mosque. The gloomy halls were buried in a mournful silence, interrupted only by the voice of a solitary man, seated on a dirty mat at the western wall of the tower, and reading diligently the torn leaves of a manuscript. Seeing that it was the kádhi, we went up to him and saluted him most respectfully; but it was not in the most cheerful and amiable way that he received our compliments—mine in particular—continuing to read, and scarcely raising his eyes from the sheets before him. Hámma then asked for permission to ascend the tower, but received a plain and unmistakable refusal, the thing being impossible, there being no entrance to the tower at present. It was shut up, he said, on account of the Kél-gerés, who used to ascend the tower in great numbers. Displeased with his uncourteous behaviour, and seeing that he was determined not to permit me to climb the tower, were it ever so feasible, we withdrew and called upon the imám, who lives in a house attached to these vaults, and which looked a little neater from having been whitewashed; however, he had no power to aid us in our purpose, but rather confirmed the statement of the kádhi. This is the principal mosque of the town, and seems to have been always so, although there are said to have been formerly as many as seventy mosques, of which ten are still in use. They deserve no mention, however, with the exception of three, the Msíd Míli, Msíd Éheni, and Msíd el Mékki. I will only add here that the Emgedesíye, so far as their very slender stock of theological learning and doctrine entitles them to rank with any sect, are Malekíye, as well as the Kél-owí.

Resigning myself to the disappointment of not being able to ascend the tower, I persuaded my friend to take a longer walk with me round the northern quarter of the town. But I forgot to mention that besides Hámma, I had another companion of a very different character. This was Zúmmuzuk, a reprobate of the worst description, and whose features bore distinct impress of the vile and brutal passions which actuated him; yet being a clever fellow, and (as the illegitimate son, or “dan néma,” of an Emgédesi woman) fully master of the peculiar idiom of Ágades, he was tolerated not only by the old chief Ánnur, who employed him as interpreter, but even by me. How insolent the knave could be I shall soon have occasion to mention. With this fellow, therefore, and with Hámma, I continued my walk, passing the kófa-n-alkáli, and then, from the ruins of the quarter Ben-Gottára, turning to the north. Here the wall of the town is in a tolerable state of preservation, but very weak and insufficient, though it is kept in repair, even to the pinnacles, on account of its surrounding the palace of the Sultan. Not far from this is an open space called Azarmádarangh, “the place of execution,” where occasionally the head of a rebellious chieftain or a murderer is cut off by the “dóka;” but as far as I could learn, such things happen very seldom. Even on the north side, two gates are in a tolerable state of preservation.

Having entered the town from this side, we went to visit the quarter of the leather-workers, which, as I stated before, seems to have formed originally a regular ward; all this handicraft, with the exception of saddle-work, is carried on by women, who work with great neatness. Very beautiful provision-bags are made here, although those which I brought back from Timbúktu are much handsomer. We saw also some fine specimens of mats, woven of a very soft kind of grass, and dyed of various colours. Unfortunately, I had but little with me wherewith to buy; and even if I had been able to make purchases, the destination of our journey being so distant, there was not much hope of carrying the things safely to Europe. The blacksmiths’ work of Ágades is also interesting, although showy and barbarous, and not unlike the work with which the Spaniards used to adorn their long daggers.

Monday, October 28.—During all this time I prosecuted inquiries with regard to several subjects connected with the geography and ethnography of this quarter of the world. I received several visits from Emgédesi tradesmen, many of whom are established in the northern provinces of Háusa, chiefly in Kátsena and Tasáwa, where living is infinitely cheaper than in Ágades. All these I found to be intelligent men, having been brought up in the centre of intercourse between a variety of tribes and nations of the most different organization, and, through the web of routes which join here, receiving information of distant regions. Several of them had even made the pilgrimage, and thus come in contact with the relatively high state of civilization in Egypt and near the coast; and I shall not easily forget the enlightened view which the mʿallem Háj Mohammed ʿOmár, who visited me several times, took of Islamism and Christianity. The last day of my stay in Ágades, he reverted to the subject of religion, and asked me, in a manner fully expressive of his astonishment, how it came to pass that the Christians and Moslemín were so fiercely opposed to one another, although their creeds, in essential principles, approximated so closely. To this I replied by saying that I thought the reason was that the great majority both of Christians and Moslemín paid less regard to the dogmas of their creeds than to external matters, which have very little or no reference to religion itself. I also tried to explain to him that in the time of Mohammed Christianity had entirely lost that purity which was its original character, and that it had been mixed up with many idolatrous elements, from which it was not entirely disengaged till a few centuries ago, while the Mohammedans had scarcely any acquaintance with Christians except those of the old sects of the Jacobites and Nestorians. Mutually pleased with our conversation, we parted from each other with regret.

In the afternoon I was agreeably surprised by the arrival of the Tinýlkum Ibrahim, for the purpose of supplying his brother’s house with what was wanted; and being determined to make only one day’s stay in the town, he had learned with pleasure that we were about to return by way of Áfasás, the village whither he himself was going. I myself had cherished this hope, as all the people had represented that place as one of the largest in the country, and as pleasantly situated. Hámma had promised to take me this way on our return to Tin-téllust; but having stayed so much longer in the town than he had intended, and being afraid of arriving too late for the salt-caravan of the Kél-owí on their way to Bilma, which he was to supply with provisions, he changed his plan, and determined to return by the shortest road. Meanwhile he informed me that the old chief would certainly not go with us to Zínder till the salt-caravan had returned from Bilma.

Fortunately, in the course of the 29th a small caravan with corn arrived from Damerghú, and Hámma completed his purchases. He had, however, first to settle a disagreeable affair; for our friend Zúmmuzuk had bought, in Hámma’s name, several things for which payment was now demanded. Hámma flew into a terrible rage, and nearly finished the rogue. My Arab and Tawáti friends, who heard that we were to start the following day, though they were rather busy buying corn, came to take leave of me, and I was glad to part from all of them in friendship. But before bidding farewell to this interesting place, I shall make a few general observations on its history.