We then went to the fáda. The sultan seemed quite ready for starting. He was sitting in the courtyard of his palace, surrounded by a multitude of people and camels, while the loud murmuring noise of a number of schoolboys who were learning the Kurán proceeded from the opposite corner, and prevented my hearing the conversation of the people. The crowd and the open locality were, of course, not very favourable to my last audience; and it was necessarily a cold one. Supported by Hamma, I informed the sultan that I expected still to receive a letter from him to the government under whose auspices I was travelling, expressive of the pleasure and satisfaction he had felt in being honoured with a visit from one of the mission, and that he would gladly grant protection to any future traveller who should happen to visit his country. The sultan promised that such a letter should be written; however, the result proved that either he had not quite understood what I meant, or, what is more probable, that in his precarious situation he felt himself not justified in writing to a Christian government, especially as he had received no letter from it.

When I had returned to my quarters, Hamma brought me three letters, in which ʿAbd el Káder recommended my person and my luggage to the care of the governors of Kanó, Kátsena, and Dáura, and which were written in rather incorrect Arabic, and in nearly the same terms. They were as follows:—

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

Hamma 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.[158]

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-geres, 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, Hamma 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 Fádëang and many tribes of the Imghád lost almost all their property. Even the influential Háj Beshír was punished, on account of his son’s 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.

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 23rd.My old friend the blacksmith Hámmeda, and the tall Elíyas, went off this morning with several camels laden with provision, while Hamma still staid 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 conceptions 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, and 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 Hamma, 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. Hamma 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.[162] 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.[163] 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 in 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 Tawárek, 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 always 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 27th.There was one very characteristic building in 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 (“sárari-n-mesállaje”), 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 grander 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.[164] Hámma then asked for permission to ascend the tower, but received a plain and unmistakeable 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 always been 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[165], 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 saddlework, 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 safe 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 28th.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 Islámism 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 Tintéllust; 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 Hamma’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.

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CHAP. XVIII.

HISTORY OF ÁGADES.

If we had before us the historical work upon the authority of which Mohammed el Bágeri assured Sultan Bello that the people of Góber, who formerly possessed the country of Aïr, were Copts[166], we should most probably find in it the history of Ágades. As it is, however, until that book shall come to light, of which I do not at all despair, provided future travellers inquire diligently for it, we must be content with endeavouring to concentrate the faint and few rays of light which dimly reveal to us, in its principal features, the history of this remarkable town.

Previously to Mr. Cooley’s perspicuous inquiries into the Negroland of the Arabs, this place was identified with Aúdaghost, merely on account of a supposed similarity of name. But Ágades, or rather Égedesh, is itself a pure Berber word, in no way connected with Aúdaghost. It is of very frequent occurrence, particularly among the Awelímmiden, and means “family;” and the name was well chosen for a town consisting of mixed elements. Moreover, while we find Aúdaghost in the far west in the 12th century, we have the distinct statement of Marmol[167], that Ágades was founded a hundred and sixty years before the time when he wrote (that is to say, in 1460), the truth of which statement, harmonizing as it does with Leo’s more general account, that it was a modern town[168], we have no reason to doubt. Neither of these authors tells us who built it; but as we know that the great Sónghay conqueror Háj Mohammed Áskiá, who conquered the town of Ágades in the year of the Hejra 921, or 1515 of our era[169], expelled from it the five Berber tribes who, according to the information collected by me during my stay in Ágades, and which I shall soon lay before my readers, must have been long resident in the town, it appears highly probable that these Berbers were its founders. And if this be assumed, there will be no difficulty in explaining why the language of the natives of the place at present is a dialect of the Sónghay language, as it is most probable that that great and enlightened conqueror, after he had driven out the old inhabitants, established in this important place a new colony of his own people. In a similar way we find the Sónghay nation, which seems not to have originally extended to a great distance eastward of Gágho or Gógo, now extending into the very heart of Kébbi, although we shall find other people speaking the same language in the neighbourhood of Ágades, and perhaps may be able in the course of our researches to trace some connection between the Sónghay and ancient Egypt.

It is therefore highly probable that those five Berber tribes formed the settlement in question as an entrepôt for their commerce with Negroland, though the foundation of such a grand settlement on the border of the desert presumes that they had at that time a preponderating influence in all these regions; and the whole affair is so peculiar, that its history could not fail to gratify curiosity if more could be known of it. From Bello’s account, it would appear that they, or at least one of these tribes (the Aújila[170]), conquered the whole of Aïr.

It is certainly remarkable to see people from five places separated from each other by immense tracts, and united only by the bond of commerce and interest, founding a large colony far away from their homes, and on the very border of the desert. For, according to all that I could learn by the most sedulous inquiries in Ágades, those tribes belonged to the Gurára of Tawát, to the Tafimáta, to the Beni Wazít, and the Tésko of Ghadámes, to the once powerful and numerous tribe of the Masráta, and finally to the Aújila; and as the names of almost all these different tribes, and of their divisions, are still attached to localities of the town, we can scarcely doubt the correctness of this information, and must suppose that Sultan Bello was mistaken in referring the five tribes (settled in Ágades) to Aújila alone.[171]

Though nothing is related about the manner in which Háj Mohammed Áskiá took possession of the town[172], except that it is stated distinctly that he drove out the five tribes, it seems, from the traditions current in Ágades, that a considerable number of the Berbers, with five hundred “jákhfa” (cages mounted on camels, such as only wealthy people can afford to keep for carrying their wives), left the town, but were all massacred. But no one who regards with the least attention the character of the present population of the town, can doubt for a moment that a considerable number of the Berber population remained behind, and in course of time mixed with the Sónghay colonists; for, even if we set aside the consideration of the language (which is greatly intermixed with Berber words), there is evidently much Berber blood in the population even at the present day,—a fact which is more evident in the females than in the males.

It is a pity that Leo says nothing about the language spoken in Ágades[173]; for he lived just at the very period during which the town, from a Berber settlement, became a Negro town. His expression[174] certainly implies that he regarded it as a Negro town. But, while well-informed in general respecting the great conquests of Mohammed Áskiá (or, as he calls him, Ischia, whom he erroneously styles king of Timbúktu), he does not once mention his expedition against Ágades, of which he might have heard as easily as of those against Kátsena and Kanó, which preceded the former only by two years. From his account it would seem that the town was then in a very flourishing state, full of foreign merchants and slaves, and that the king, though he paid a tribute of 150,000 ducats to the king of Timbúktu (Gágho), enjoyed a great degree of independence, at least from that quarter, and had even a military force of his own. Besides, it is stated expressly that he belonged to the Berber race.[175] But it would almost seem as if Leo in this passage represented the state of things as it was when he visited the town, before Áskiá’s time, and not at the date when he wrote, though the circumstance of the tribute payable to that king may have been learnt from later information. In general, the great defect in Leo’s description is, that the reader has no exact dates to which to refer the several statements, and that he cannot be sure how far the author speaks as an eye-witness, and how far from information.[176]

Of course it is possible that the Berbers found a Sónghay population, if not in the place itself, which most probably did not exist before the time of their arrival, yet in the district around it; and it would seem that there existed in ancient times, in the celebrated valley of Ír-n-allem, a small town of which[177] some vestiges are said to remain at the present day, as well as two or three date-trees—the solitary remains of a large plantation. From this town, tradition says, the present inhabitants of Ágades were transplanted. But be this as it may, it is certain that the same dialect of the Sónghay language which is spoken in Ágades, is also still spoken in a few places in the neighbourhood, by the tribe of the Íghdalén, or Ighedálen, whose whole appearance, especially their long hair, shows them to be a mixed race of Songhay and Berbers; and there is some reason to suppose that they belonged originally to the Zenága or Senhája. These people live in and around Íngal, a small town four days’ journey from Ágades, on the road to Sókoto[178], and in and around Tegídda, a place three days’ journey from Íngal, and about five from Ágades W.S.W. This latter place is of considerable interest, being evidently identical with the town of the same name mentioned by Ebn Khaldún[179] and by Ebn Batúta[180] as a wealthy place, lying eastward from Gógo, on the road to Egypt, and in intimate connection and friendly intercourse with the Mzáb and Wárgela. It was governed by a Berber chief, with the title of sultan. This place, too, was for some time subject to Gógo, or rather to the empire of Mélle or Máli, which then comprised Sónghay, in the latter part of the 14th century; and the circumstance that here too the Sónghay language is still spoken may be best explained by referring it to colonization, since it is evident that Áskiá, when he took possession of Ágades, must have occupied Tegídda also, which lay on the road from Gógo to that place. However, I will not indulge in conjectures, and will merely enter into historical questions so far as they contribute to furnish a vivid and coherent picture of the tribes and countries with which my journey brought me into contact. I will therefore only add, that this place, Tegídda or Tekádda, was famous, in the time of Ebn Batúta, for its copper-mines, the ores of which were exported as far as Bórnu and Góber, while at present nothing is known of the existence of copper hereabouts; but a very good species of salt of red colour (já-n-gísherí), which is far superior to that of Bílma, is obtained here, as well as in Íngal. But I recommend this point to the inquiry of future travellers. I have mentioned above the presence of loadstone on the border of Aïr.

Having thus attempted to elucidate and illustrate the remarkable fact, that the language of Ágades is derived from and akin to the Sónghay,—a fact which of course appeared to me more surprising before I discovered, in the course of 1853, that this language extends eastward far beyond the so-called Niger,—I return once more to the settlement of the Berbers in Ágades. It is evident that this settlement, if it was of the nature described above, was made for the purpose of serving as a great commercial entrepôt for the commerce with another country; and if we duly consider the statements made by El Bekri[181], Ebn Batúta[182], Leo[183], Ca da Mosto[184], and by the author of the “History of Sónghay,” with regard to the importance of the market of Gógo, and if we pay due attention to that circuitous route which led from Gógo by way of Tegídda not only to Egypt, but even to Tawát[185], there cannot be the least doubt that Ágades was founded by those Berber tribes, with the distinct purpose that it might serve them as a secure abode and fortified magazine in their commercial intercourse with that splendid capital of the Sónghay empire, the principal article of which was gold, which formed also the chief article in the former commerce of Ágades. For Ágades had its own standard weight of this precious metal,—the mithkál, which even at the present day regulates the circulating medium. And this mithkál of Ágades is totally different from the standard of the same name which is in use in Timbúktu, the latter being, in regard to the value of the Spanish dollar, as 1⅓ to 1, and the former only as ⅖ to 1. But for wholesale business a greater weight was in use, called “kárruwe,” the smaller kárruwe containing thirty-three mithákel or mithkals and a third, equal to two rottls and a sixth, while the larger kárruwe contained a hundred mithkals, and was equal to six rottls and a half.

The importance of the trade of Ágades, and the wealth of the place in general, appear very clearly from the large tribute, of a hundred and fifty thousand ducats, which the king of Ágades was able to pay to that of Sónghay, especially if we bear in mind that Leo, in order to give an idea of the great expense which this same king of Sónghay had incurred on his pilgrimage to Mekka, states in another passage[186] that having spent all he took with him, he contracted a debt amounting to that very sum. As for the king of Ágades, his situation was at that time just what it is now; and we cannot better describe his precarious position, entirely dependent on the caprice and intrigues of the influential chiefs of the Tawárek, than by using the very words of Leo, “Alle volte scacciano il re e pongono qualche suo parente in luogo di lui, nè usano ammazzar alcuno; e quel che più contenta gli abitatori del diserto è fatto re in Agadez.”

Unfortunately, we are not able to fix a date for that very peculiar covenant between the different tribes with regard to the installation of the sultan of Ágades, and the establishing of the principle that he must belong to a certain family, which is regarded as of sheríf nobility[187], and lives not in Ágades, nor even in the country of Aïr, but in a town of Góber. I was once inclined to think that this was an arrangement made in consequence of the power and influence which the Emír of Sókoto had arrogated to himself; but I have now reason to doubt this, for even the grandfather of ʿAbd el Káder was sultan. Certainly even now, when the power of the Fulfúlde or Féllani empire is fast crumbling to pieces, the Emír of Sókoto has a certain influence upon the choice of the sultan of Ágades. Of this fact I myself became witness during my stay in Sókoto in April 1853, when Hámed e’ Rufäy was once more sent out to succeed ʿAbd el Káder. Indeed Ittegáma, ʿAbd el Káder’s brother, who thought that I enjoyed the favour and confidence of the Emír, called upon me (as I shall relate in due time) expressly in order to entreat me most urgently to exert my influence in order to restore my former host to his authority.

I have described already in what way the union of the tribes of the Itísan, the Kél-gerés, and the Kél-owí is expressed in installing the sultan; but though without the presence and assent of the former the new prince could never arrive at his place of residence, the final decision seems to rest with the chief Ánnur, the inhabitants of the town having no voice in the matter. The sultan is rather a chief of the Tawárek tribes residing in Ágades than the ruler of Ágades. How difficult and precarious his position must be, may be easily conceived if it be considered that these tribes are generally at war with one another; the father of Hámed e’ Rufäy was even killed by the Kél-gerés. Nevertheless, if he be an intelligent and energetic man, his influence in the midst of this wild conflict and struggle of clashing interests and inclinations must be very beneficial.

What the revenue of the sultan may at present amount to, it is difficult to say. His means and income consist chiefly in the presents which he receives on his accession to authority, in a contribution of one bullock’s hide or kulábu (being about the value of half a Spanish dollar) from each family, in a more considerable but rather uncertain tribute levied upon the Imghád, in the tax of ten mithkáls or four Spanish dollars which he levies on each camel-load of foreign merchandise which enters the town of Ágades[188] (articles of food being exempt from charge), in a small tribute derived from the salt brought from Bílma, and in the fines levied on lawless people and marauders, and often on whole tribes. Thus it is very probable that the expedition which ʿAbd el Káder undertook immediately after his accession, against the tribes who had plundered us, enriched him considerably. As for the inhabitants of Ágades themselves, I was assured that they do not pay him any tribute at all, but are obliged only to accompany him on his expeditions. Of course in earlier times, when the commerce of the town was infinitely greater than at present, and when the Imghád (who had to provide him with cattle, corn, fruit, and vegetables) were strictly obedient, his income far exceeded that of the present day. When taken altogether it is certainly considerably under twenty thousand dollars. His title is Amanókal, or Amanókal Imakóren, in Temáshight, Kókoy[189] bére in the Emgédesi, and Babá-n-Serkí, in the Háusa language.

The person second in authority in the town, and in certain respects the vizier, is now, and apparently was also in ancient times, the “kókoy gerégeré”[190] (i.e. master of the courtyard or the interior of the palace). This is his real indigenous character, while the foreigners, who regarded him only in his relation to themselves, called him sheikh el ʿArab, or, in the Háusa language, serkí-n-turáwa[191] (the chief of the Whites); and this is the title by which he is generally known. For it was he who had to levy the tax on the merchandise imported into the town,—an office which in former times, when a considerable trade was carried on, was of great importance. But the chief duty of the “serkí-n-turáwa,” at the present time, is to accompany annually the salt-caravan of the Kél-gerés, which supplies the western part of Middle Sudán with the salt of Bílma, from Ágades to Sókoto, and to protect it on the road as well as to secure it against exorbitant exactions on the part of the Fúlbe of Sókoto. For this trouble he receives one “kántu,” that is to say the eighth part (eight kántu weighing three Turkish kantars or quintals) of a middle-sized camel-load, a contribution which forms a considerable income in this country, probably of from eight to ten thousand Spanish dollars, the caravan consisting generally of some thousand camels, not all equally laden, and the kántu of salt fetching in Sudán from five thousand to seven and eight thousand kurdí or shells, which are worth from two to three dollars. Under such circumstances those officers, who at the same time trade on their own account, cannot but amass considerable wealth. Mohammed Bóro as well as Áshu are very rich, considering the circumstances of the country.

After having escorted the salt-caravan to Sókoto, and settled the business with the Emír of this place, the serkí-n-turáwa in former times had to go to Kanó, where he received a small portion of the six hundred kurdí, the duty levied on each slave brought to the slave-market, after which he returned to Ágades with the Kél-gerés that had frequented the market of Kanó. I had full opportunity, in the further course of my journey, to convince myself that such is not now the case; but I cannot say what is the reason of this custom having been discontinued, though it may be the dangerous state of the road between Sókoto and Kanó. Mohammed Bóro, the former serkí-n-turáwa, has still residences as well in Kanó and Zínder as in Sókoto and Ágades.

From what I have said it is clear that at present the serkí-n-turáwa has much more to do with the Tawárek and Fúlbe than with the Arabs, and at the same time is a sort of mediator between Ágades and Sókoto.

Of the other persons in connection with the sultan, the “kókoy kaina” or “bába-n-serkí”[192] (the chief eunuch), at present Ámagay, the fadawa-n-serkí (the aides-de-camp of the sultan), as well as the kádhi or alkáli, and the war-chief Sidi Ghalli, I have spoken in the diary of my residence in the place.

I have already stated above, that the southern part of the town, which at present is almost entirely deserted, formed the oldest quarter, while Katánga, or “báki-n-bírni,” seems to have been its northern limit. Within these limits the town was about two miles in circuit, and when thickly peopled, may have contained about thirty thousand inhabitants; but after the northern quarter was added, the whole town had a circuit of about three miles and a half, and may easily have mustered as many as fifty thousand inhabitants, or even more. The highest degree of power seems to have been attained before the conquest of the town by Mohammed Áskiá in the year 1515, though it is said to have been a considerable and wealthy place till about sixty years ago (reckoned from 1850), when the greatest part of the inhabitants emigrated to the neighbouring towns of Háusa, chiefly Kátsena, Tasáwa, Marádi, and Kanó. The exact circumstances which brought about this deplorable desertion and desolation of the place I was not able to learn; and the date of the event cannot be made to coincide with the period of the great revolution effected in Middle Sudán by the rising of the Jihádi, “the reformer,” ʿOthmán da-n-Fódiye, which it preceded by more than fifteen years; but it coincides with or closely follows upon an event which I shall have to dwell upon in the further course of my proceedings. This is the conquest of Gʿao or Gógo (the former capital of the Sónghay empire, and which since 1591 had become a province of the empire of Morocco) by the Tawárek. As we have seen above that Ágades had evidently been founded as an entrepôt for the great trade with this most flourishing commercial place on the Ísa or Niger, at that time the centre of the gold-trade, of course the ransacking and wholesale destruction of this town could not but affect in the most serious manner the well-being of Ágades, cutting away the very roots through which it received life.

At present I still think that I was not far wrong in estimating the number of the inhabited houses at from six hundred to seven hundred, and the population at about seven thousand, though it must be borne in mind that, as the inhabitants have still preserved their trading character, a great many of the male inhabitants are always absent from home, a circumstance which reduces the armed force of the place to about six hundred. A numerical element capable of controlling the estimated amount of the population, is offered by the number of from two hundred and fifty to three hundred well-bred boys, who at the time of my visit were learning a little reading and writing, in five or six schools scattered over the town; for it is not every boy who is sent to school, but only those belonging to families in easy circumstances, and they are all about the same age, from eight to ten years old.