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CHAP. XXVIII.

ARRIVAL IN KÚKAWA.

Wednesday, April 2nd.This was to be a most momentous day of my travels; for I was to reach that place which was the first distinct object of our mission, and I was to come into contact with those people on whose ill or good-will depended the whole success of our mission.

Although encamped late at night, we were again up at an early hour; but in endeavouring to return to the track which we had left the preceding night, we inadvertently crossed it, and so came to another village, with a very numerous herd of cattle, where we became aware of our error, and then had to regain the main road.

Two miles afterwards there was a very great change in the character of the country; for the sandy soil which had characterized the district all along the komádugu now gave way to clay, where water is only met with at considerable depth. We met a troop of tugúrchi, who informed us that none of the villages along our track at the present moment had a supply of water, not even the considerable village Kangáruwa, but that at the never-failing well of Beshér I should be able to water my horse. This news only served to confirm me in my resolution to ride on in advance, in order as well to water my poor beast before the greatest heat of the day, as to reach the residence in good time.

I therefore took leave of my two young servants, and, giving Mohammed strict orders to follow me with the camels as fast as possible, I hastened on. The wooded level became now interrupted from time to time by bare naked concavities, or shallow hollows, consisting of black sedimentary soil, where, during the rainy season, the water collects and, drying up gradually, leaves a most fertile sediment for the cultivation of the másakwá. This is a peculiar kind of holcus, (Holcus cernuus,) which forms a very important article in the agriculture of Bórnu. Sown soon after the end of the rainy season, it grows up entirely by the fructifying power of the soil, and ripens with the assistance only of the abundant dews, which fall here usually in the months following the rainy season. These hollows, which are the most characteristic natural feature in the whole country, and which encompass the south-western corner of the great lagoon of Central Africa throughout a distance of more than sixty miles from its present shore, are called “ghadír” by the Arabs, “fírki,” or “ánge,” by the Kanúri. Indeed they amply testify to the far greater extent of the lagoon in ante-historical times.

Pushing on through a country of this description, and passing several villages, I reached about noon Beshér, a group of villages scattered over the corn-fields, where numerous horsemen of the sheikh were quartered; and being unable myself to find the well, I made a bargain with one of the people to water my horse, for which he exacted from me forty “kúngona” or cowries. However, when I had squatted down for a moment’s rest in the shade of a small talha-tree, his wife, who had been looking on, began to reprove him for driving so hard a bargain with a young inexperienced stranger; and then she brought me a little tiggra and curdled milk diluted with water, and afterwards some ngáji, or paste of sorghum.

Having thus recruited my strength, I continued my march; but my horse, not having fared so well, was nearly exhausted. The heat was intense; and therefore we proceeded but slowly till I reached Kálilwá, when I began seriously to reflect on my situation, which was very peculiar. I was now approaching the residence of the chief whom the mission, of which I had the honour to form part, was especially sent out to salute, in a very poor plight, without resources of any kind, and left entirely by myself owing to the death of the director. I was close to this place, a large town, and was about to enter it without a single companion. The heat being just at its highest, no living being was to be seen either in the village or on the road; and I hesitated a moment, considering whether it would not be better to wait here for my camels. But my timid reluctance being confounded by the thought that my people might be far behind, and that if I waited for them we should find no quarters prepared for us, I spurred on my nag, and soon reached the western suburb of Kúkawa.

Proceeding with some hesitation towards the white clay wall which encircles the town, and which from a little distance could scarcely be distinguished from the adjoining ground, I entered the gate, being gazed at by a number of people collected here, and who were still more surprised when I inquired for the residence of the sheikh. Then passing the little daily market (the dyrríya), which was crowded with people, I rode along the déndal, or promenade, straight up to the palace, which borders the promenade towards the east. It is flanked by a very indifferent mosque, built likewise of clay, with a tower at its N.W. corner, while houses of grandees inclose the place on the north and south sides. The only ornament of this place is a fine chédia or caoutchouc-tree in front of the house of ʿAli Ladán, on the south side; but occasionally it becomes enlivened by interesting groups of Arabs and native courtiers in all the finery of their dress, and of their richly caparisoned horses.

The sheikh, though he usually resides in his palace in the eastern town, was at present here; and the slaves stared at me, without understanding, or caring to understand, what I wanted, until Díggama, the storekeeper, was called, who, knowing something of me as ʿAbd el Kerím, ordered a slave to conduct me to the vizier. Though I had heard some account of the sheikh living out of the western town, I was rather taken by surprise at seeing the large extent of the double town; and I was equally astonished at the number of gorgeously-dressed horsemen whom I met on my way.

Considering my circumstances, I could not have chosen a more favourable moment for arriving. About two hundred horsemen were assembled before the house of the vizier, who was just about to mount his horse in order to pay his daily visit to the sheikh. When he came out, he saluted me in a very cheerful way, and was highly delighted when he heard and saw that I had come quite alone. He told me he had known me already, from the letter which I had sent to his agent in Zínder stating that I would come after I had finished my business, but not before. While he himself rode in great state to the sheikh, he ordered one of his people to show me my quarters. These were closely adjoining the vizier’s house, consisting of two immense courtyards, the more secluded of which inclosed, besides a half-finished clay dwelling, a very spacious and neatly-built hut. This, as I was told, had been expressly prepared for the mission before it was known that we were without means.

I had scarcely taken possession of my quarters when I received several visits from various parties attached to the mission, who all at once made me quite au fait of all the circumstances of my not very enviable situation as one of its surviving members. The first person who called upon me was Ibrahím, the carpenter, who, at Mr. Richardson’s request, had been sent up from Tripoli, at the monthly salary of twenty mahbúbs besides a sum of four dollars for his maintenance. He was certainly a handsome young man, about twenty-two years of age, a native of “the holy house” (Bét el mogaddus) or Jerusalem, with big sounding phrases in his mouth, and quite satisfied to return with me directly to Fezzán without having done anything. Then came his more experienced and cheerful companion, ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, a real sailor, who was not so loud in his clamours, but urged more distinctly the payment of his salary, which was equal to that of Ibrahím.

After I had consoled these dear friends, and assured them that I had no idea at present of returning northwards, and that I should do my best to find the means of satisfying the most urgent of their claims, there arrived another of the bloodsuckers of the mission, and the most thirsty of them all. It was my colleague, the bibulous Yusuf, son of Mukni the former governor of Fezzán, accompanied by Mohammed ben Bu-Sʿad, whom Mr. Richardson, when he discharged Yusuf in Zínder, had taken into his service in his stead, and by Mohammed ben Habíb, the least serviceable of Mr. Richardson’s former servants. Yusuf was mounted upon a fine horse, and most splendidly dressed; but he was extremely gracious and condescending, as he entertained the hope that my boxes and bags, which had just arrived with my faithful Gatróni, were full of shells, and that I should be able to pay his salary at once. He was greatly puzzled when I informed him of my extreme poverty. Mr. Richardson’s other servants, to my great regret, had gone off the day before, unpaid as they were, in order to regain their various homes.

I now ascertained that the pay due to Mr. Richardson’s servants amounted to more than three hundred dollars; besides which there was the indefinite debt to the Sfáksi, amounting in reality to twelve hundred and seventy dollars, but which, by the form in which the bill had been given, might easily be doubled. I did not possess a single dollar, a single bernús, nor anything of value, and moreover was informed by my friends that I should be expected to make both to the sheikh and to the vizier a handsome present of my own. I now saw also that what the sheríf el Habíb had told me on the road (viz. that all Mr. Richardson’s things had been divided and squandered) was not altogether untrue. At least, they had been deposited with the vizier on very uncertain conditions, or rather had been delivered up to him by the two interpreters of our late companion, intimating to him that I and Mr. Overweg were quite subordinate people attached to the mission, and that we had no right to interfere in the matter.

Seeing how matters stood, I thought it best, in order to put a stop to the intrigues which had been set a going, to take Mohammed ben Sʿad into my service on the same salary which he had received from Mr. Richardson. Besides, I pledged my word to all that they should each receive what was due to him, only regretting that the rest of Mr. Richardson’s people had already gone away.

After all these communications, fraught with oppressive anxiety, I received a most splendid supper as well from the sheikh as from the vizier, and, after the various exertions of the day, enjoyed a quiet night’s rest in my clean cottage.

Thus strengthened, I went the next morning to pay my respects to the vizier, taking with me a small present of my own, the principal attractions of which lay in a thick twisted lace of silk of very handsome workmanship, which I had had made in Tripoli, and a leathern letter-case of red colour, which I had brought with me from Europe. Destitute as I was of any means, and not quite sure as yet whether Her Britannic Majesty’s Government would authorize me to carry out the objects of the mission, I did not deem it expedient to assume too much importance, but simply told the vizier that, though the director of the mission had not been fortunate enough to convey to him and the sheikh with his own mouth the sentiments of the British Government, yet I hoped that, even in this respect, these endeavours would not be quite in vain, although at the present moment our means were so exhausted that, even for executing our scientific plans, we were entirely dependent on their kindness.

The same reserve I maintained in my interview with the sheikh on the morning of Friday, when I laid little stress upon the object of our mission (to obtain security of commerce for English merchants), thinking it better to leave this to time, but otherwise dwelling upon the friendship established between the sheikh’s father and the English, and representing to them that, relying upon this manifestation of their friendly disposition, we had come without reserve to live awhile among them, and under their protection and with their assistance to obtain an insight into this part of the world, which appeared so strange in our eyes. Our conversation was quite free from constraint or reserve, as nobody was present besides the sheikh and the vizier.

I found the sheikh (ʿOmár, the eldest son of Mohammed el Amín el Kánemy) a very simple, benevolent, and even cheerful man. He has regular and agreeable features, rather a little too round to be expressive; but he is remarkably black—a real glossy black, such as is rarely seen in Bórnu, and which he has inherited undoubtedly from his mother, a Bagirmaye princess. He was very simply dressed in a light tobe, having a bernús negligently wrapped round his shoulder; round his head a dark-red shawl was twisted with great care; and his face was quite uncovered, which surprised me not a little, as his father used to cover it in the Tawárek fashion. He was reclining upon a diván covered with a carpet, at the back of a fine airy hall neatly polished.

My presents were very small, the only valuable article among them being a nice little copy of the Kurán, which on a former occasion I had bought in Egypt for five pounds sterling, and was now carrying with me for my own use. That I made a present of this book to the prince may perhaps be regarded with an unfavourable eye by some persons in this country; but let them consider it as a sign of an unprejudiced mind, and of the very high esteem in which he held me, that, although knowing me to be a Christian, he did not refuse to accept from my hands that which was most holy in his eyes. On the whole I could not have expected a more friendly reception, either from the sheikh or from his vizier. But there was a very delicate point which I was obliged to touch upon: what was to become of Mr. Richardson’s property?

In the afternoon I went again to the vizier, and requested to see the inventory of all that my late companion had left; and he showed it to me and read it himself. He then ordered the box to be opened, which contained clothes and papers; and I was glad to see that not only the journals, upon the keeping of which Mr. Richardson had bestowed great care, but also all his other collectanea were safe. Having taken the inventory with me, I sent Mohammed the following day to him with the request that Mr. Richardson’s property should be delivered to me. Having been desired to call myself at noon, I went, but was surprised to find only Lamíno (properly El Amín), the vizier’s confidential officer, of whom I shall have occasion to speak hereafter. I was still more surprised when only some of Mr. Richardson’s boxes were brought in, and I was desired to select what I wanted, and leave the rest behind. This I refused to do, and asked where the other things were, when Lamíno did not hesitate to declare that the ornamented gun and the handsome pair of pistols had been sold. Upon hearing this, though I had been treated very kindly and hospitably on my arrival, and had received immense quantities of provision of every kind, I could not refrain from declaring that if in truth they had behaved so unscrupulously with other people’s property I had nothing more to do here, and returned to my quarters immediately.

My firmness had its desired effect; and late in the evening I received a message from the vizier, that if I wanted to have a private interview with him I might come now, as during the daytime he was always troubled by the presence of a great many people. The person who brought me this message was Háj Edrís, a man of whom in the course of my proceedings I shall have to speak repeatedly. Satisfied with having an opportunity of conversing with the vizier without reserve, I followed the messenger immediately, and found Háj Beshír quite alone, sitting in an inner court of his house, with two small wax candles by his side. We then had a long interview, which lasted till midnight, and the result of which was that I protested formally against the sale of those things left by Mr. Richardson, and insisted that all should be delivered to me and to Mr. Overweg as soon as he should arrive, when we would present to the sheikh and to the vizier, in a formal manner, all those articles which we knew our companion had intended to give to them. Besides, I urged once more the necessity of forwarding the news of Mr. Richardson’s death, and of my safe arrival, as soon as possible, as, after our late misfortunes in Aïr, Her Britannic Majesty’s Government, as well as our friends, would be most anxious about our safety. I likewise tried to persuade my benevolent and intelligent host that he might do a great service to the mission, if he would enable us to carry out part of our scientific purposes without delay, as Government would certainly not fail to honour us with their confidence, if they saw that we were going on. Having carried all my points, and being promised protection and assistance to the widest extent, I indulged in a more friendly chat, and, delighted by the social character of my host, and full of the most confident hopes for my future proceedings, withdrew a little after midnight.

Having in this way vindicated the honourable character of the mission, and my own, I applied myself with more cheerfulness to my studies and inquiries, for which I found ample opportunity; for many distinguished personages from distant countries were staying here at this time, partly on their journey to or from Mekka, partly only attracted by the fame of the vizier’s hospitable and bounteous character. But before I give any account of my stay in Kúkawa previous to my setting out for Adamáwa, I think it well to try to impart to the reader a more lively interest in the country to which he has thus been transferred, by laying before him a short account of its history, as I have been able to make it out from original documents and from oral information.

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CHAP. XXIX.

AUTHENTICITY AND GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE HISTORY OF BÓRNU.

Any writer who attempts to recall from obscurity and oblivion the past ages of an illiterate nation, and to lay before the public even the most elementary sketch of its history, will probably have to contend against the strong prejudices of numerous critics, who are accustomed to refuse belief to whatever is incapable of bearing the strictest inquiry.

The documents upon which the history of Bórnu is based, besides the scanty information contained in the narratives of recent explorers, are—

1. A chronicle (“diván”), or rather the dry and sterile abridgment of a chronicle, comprising the whole history of Bórnu, from the earliest time down to Ibrahím, the last unfortunate offspring of the royal family, who had just ascended the crumbling throne of the Bórnu empire when the last English expedition arrived in that country. 6 pp. 4to.[52]

2. Two other still shorter lists of the Bórnu kings.

3. A detailed history of the first twelve years of the reign of the king Edrís Alawóma, consisting of two parts, in my copy one of 77 and the other of 145 pages, and written by a contemporary of the above-mentioned king, the imám Ahmed, son of Sofíya. Of this very interesting and important history a copy was forwarded by the late vizier of Bórnu, Háj Beshír ben Tiráb, at my urgent request[53], to Her Britannic Majesty’s Government, and is now in the Foreign Office; another copy I myself have brought back.

4. A few facts regarding the history of this country, mentioned by Arabic writers, such as Ebn Sʿaid (A.D. 1282), Ebn Batúta (A.D. 1353), Ebn Khaldún (A.D. 1381/2), and Makrízi (about A.D. 1400), Leo Africanus (A.D. 1528).

5. A short document containing information about embassies sent to Tripoli by some Bórnu kings, and published in the “Bulletin de la Société Géographique de Paris,” 1849, 252. ff.

I now proceed to inquire into the character of the first of these documents, which is the only one among them comprising the whole history of Bórnu, and which therefore forms the basis of our tables. The most momentous question is,—upon what authority this document rests, and when it was compiled. As for the first point, I have been assured by Shitíma Makarémma (a man intimately connected with the old dynasty, who made the two copies for me, and of whom some notice will be found in my journal) that it is a mere extract from a more voluminous work, which he represented as still existing, but which I was unable to procure, as it is carefully concealed. The whole business of collecting documents and information relative to the history of the old dynasty was most difficult, and demanded much discretion, as the new dynasty of the Kánemíyín endeavours to obliterate as much as possible the memory of the old Kanúri dynasty, and has assiduously destroyed all its records wherever they could be laid hold of.

As regards the time when the chronicle, of which the manuscript in question is a very meagre and incorrect abridgment, was written, it is stated that the various parts of it were composed at different times, at the beginning of every new reign; and the question is, when the Kanúri people, or rather their ʿulama, began to commit to writing the most important facts of their history. This question we are fortunately enabled, from Imám Ahmed’s work, to answer satisfactorily; namely, that there existed no written record whatever of the history of his country previous to the king Edrís Katakarmábi, whose reign falls in the first half of the sixteenth century of our era. For when that writer refers to facts of the older history, he is only able to cite as his authority oral information received from old men versed in historical tradition; and he evidently mentions as the oldest author of a written history, the fákih Masfárma ʿOmár ben ʿOthmán, who wrote the history of the king in question.

The annals, therefore, of the time preceding the period of this king and of his predecessor ʿAli Gajidéni, appear to be based entirely upon oral information, and cannot but be liable to a certain degree of inaccuracy as to the actions attributed to each king, the length of their respective reigns, and even the order of succession, where it was not dependent on genealogy or descent. For it would be the extreme of hypercriticism to deny that the royal family of Bórnu, in the middle of the 16th century, could not or may not justly be supposed to have preserved with great precision their line of descent for fifteen or twenty generations; and in this respect the chronicle No. 1. is entirely confirmed and borne out by Imám Ahmed, who, in the introduction to his History, gives the pedigree of his master Edrís Alawóma up to his first royal ancestor, while the difference in the form of the names, and one slight variance in the order of succession, as given by these two documents, is a plain proof that they have not been borrowed from each other, but have been based on independent authorities.

The disagreement in question is certainly a remarkable one; but it is easily explained. For Makrízi, in harmony with the extract from the chronicle, names the father of the kings Edrís and Dáud (whose reign he places about the year 700 of the Hejra), Ibrahím, while Imám Áhmed calls them sons of Nikále son of Ibrahím; and this is the general statement of the natives of the country even at the present time, every educated man knowing “Dáúd tata Nikálebe,” or Dáúd Nikálemi. The fact is, that the name Bíri, which the chronicle attributes to the father of Ibrahím the grandfather of Edrís and Dáúd, being a variation of the form Bíram, is identical with Ibrahím; whence it appears that Nikále was another name of Ibrahím the son of Bíri. The same is the case with regard to the names Áhmed and Dúnama, which are identical, if not with regard to their meanings, at least with regard to their applications, as well as the names Sélma or Sélmama and ʿAbd el Jelíl.

This general harmony between the pedigree of the Bórnu kings as given by the chronicle No. 1. and the Imám Áhmed, a learned and clever man in a high position, and in constant connection with the court, is, I think, very satisfactory, and the more so if we take into consideration that, from a reason which I shall soon mention, and which at the same time is a strong argument in favour of the authenticity of these two documents, the pedigree as given by them is not the only one current in Bórnu, but the line of descent and succession varies greatly in one of the two other short chronicles which are mentioned in No. 2., while the third one, which does not appear to make any pretensions to completeness, cannot be taken into account here. Hence, as far as regards the line of descent or succession, I have not thought these two lists worthy of attention, except only with regard to the reign following that of the 58th king, if we count the reign of the usurper Sʿaíd ʿAlí, the son of Háj ʿOmár. For here the chronicle No. 1. has omitted, by mistake or negligence, the well-established reign of Edrís ben ʿAlí, who, succeeding to his father ʿAlí, preceded his younger brother Dúnama ben ʿAlí, and reigned 20 years.[54]

What I have here said with regard to the authenticity of the chronicle refers only to the line of descent and succession of the kings mentioned; but, of course, it is quite another question, if we take into view the length of time attributed to the reign of each succeeding king. But even here the dates of the chronicle are confirmed in a most surprising and satisfactory manner by the history of Imám Áhmed, who, in relating the successful expedition of Edrís Áʿaishámi to Kánem, states that from the time when Dáúd Nikálemi was obliged to leave his capital Njímiye, down to the period when Edrís made his entrance into it, 122 years had elapsed. Now, according to the dates of the chronicle, between the end of the reign of Dáúd and the beginning of the reign of Edrís, who is expressly stated by the historian to have undertaken that expedition in the first year of his reign, there intervened exactly 121 years. And indeed we see from the Imám’s account, that most people thought this was the real length of the period, and not 122 years; so well were the educated inhabitants of Bórnu at that time acquainted with the history of their country. Perhaps also Imám Áhmed wishes here to refute Masfárma, the historian of Edrís Áʿaishámi, who adhered to the general opinion.

Unfortunately, the length of the several reigns is our only guide with regard to the chronology of this history, as neither the chronicle nor even Imám Áhmed specifies particular years with reference to any of the events which they mention. This is indeed a very great defect, not so apparent in the dry chronicle as in the account of the learned priest; and it seems almost inconceivable, as he is very particular, not only with regard to seasons, but even to months and days, mentioning with great exactness on what day of the month his master did so and so, and even disputing, in this respect, slight variations of opinion. If he had only given us the date of a single year, we should be much better off as to the chronology of the history of Bórnu. As it is, if we put out of account other chronological data which we are fortunately in possession of, in order to reduce to chronology the events mentioned by the chronicle, we can only reckon backwards the number of years attributed by it to the reign of each successive king, commencing from the death of Sultan Dúnama, who in the year A.H. 1233 was killed in the battle at Ngála (written “Ghála” in Arabic, but called “Angala” by the members of the former expedition).[55]

If we now count together the years attributed to each reign, proceeding in a backward order, and beginning with the end of the year H. 1233, we obtain, in an inverse order, the following chronological dates for the more important periods of the history of Bórnu.

	A.H.	A.D.
Beginning of the reign of Ayúma	391	1000, 1
Beginning of the reign of Humé, the first Moslim king	479	1086
Reign of Dúnama Díbalámi, the warlike and daring king who spoiled the talisman of Bórnu	618-658	1221-1259, 60
Beginning of the reign of Ibrahím Nikálemi	707	1307
Beginning of the reign of Edrís ben Ibrahím	754	1353
End of the reign of Dáúd, who succumbed to the Bulála	789	1387
End of the reign of ʿOthmán ben Edrís	795	1392, 3
The reign of ʿOmár, who abandoned his residence in Kánem altogether, ceding it to the Bulála	796-799	1393-1396
Beginning of the reign of ʿAlí Dúnamámi	877	1472
Beginning of the reign of Edrís Katarkamábi	911	1505
Beginning of the reign of Edrís Alawóma	980	1572
Beginning of the reign of Háj ʿOmár	1036	1626, 7
Beginning of the reign of ʿAlí ben Háj ʿOmár	1055	1645

Having obtained these dates, we have first to observe that to fill up the period from Ayúma to Dhu Yazan, the presumed ancestor of the Séfuwa, and even known as such to Abú ’l Fedá as well as to Makrízi, and whose age (as being that of a man who predicted the coming of the prophet) is fixed beyond all doubt, only six generations are left. This is the circumstance which I mentioned above as speaking greatly in favour of the authenticity of this chronicle and its genealogies, even with regard to the more remote times. For if it had not been necessary to preserve scrupulously a well-established line of succession, how easy would it have been to introduce a few more individuals in order to fill up this blank, as has been done in the other list (b), instead of admitting the palpable nonsense of attributing to the two oldest kings a reign of from 250 to 300 years. Even Séf and Ibrahím, the first two princes of the line, are, I think, quite historical persons, whose existence was so well established that a conscientious chronicler could not change anything in the number of years attributed to the length of their reigns.

Following, therefore, the hints given to us by the chronicle itself, we fix the foundation of the dynasty of the Séfuwa in Kánem about the middle of the third century after Mohammed, or a little before the year 900 of our era. We shall afterwards return to this circumstance.

Now we shall first see how triumphantly the authenticity of the chronicle is confirmed in every respect by the occasional remarks made by Makrízi and Ebn Batúta with regard to the history of Bórnu.

Unfortunately, the oldest date which Makrízi (on the authority, as it would seem, of Ébn Sʿaíd) mentions with regard to Kánem[56], namely, an expedition made by its king into the fertile districts of Mábiná in the year H. 650, cannot be used as a sufficient test of the authenticity of the chronicle, as the historian does not mention the name of the king; but the deed itself harmonizes exceedingly well with the warlike and enterprising character of Dúnama Díbalámi, whose reign, according to our chronicle, falls between the years 618 and 658. Just the same is to be said of the fact mentioned by Ébn Khaldún, who, in his valuable history of the Berbers, which has been recently made accessible to all, relates[57] the interesting fact that, among other valuable presents, a giraffe was sent by the king of Kánem (to whom even at that early date he gives the title of “master of Bórnu”) to Abú ʿAbd-Allah el Mostánser the king of Tunis, in the year of the Hejra 655. The same historian, in another passage of his work, referring to the year 656, mentions again the king of Kánem as having caused the death of a son of Kárakosh el Ghozzi el Modáfferi, the well-known adventurous chieftain who had tried to establish himself in Wadán.[58]

But fortunately we have other data which afford us a very fair test. According to Makrízi[59], not long after the close of the seventh century of the Hejra (fi hedúd sennet sebʿa mayet), the king of Kánem was Háj Ibrahím; after him reigned his son, el Háj Edrís—the historian does not say expressly that he immediately succeeded his father; then Dáúd, the brother of Edrís, and another son of Ibrahím; then ʿOmár, the son of Dáúd’s elder brother Háj Edrís; and then ʿOthmán, the brother of the former, and another son of Edrís. Makrízi adds that this last-named king reigned shortly before A.H. 800; and then he states that the inhabitants of Kánem revolted against the successors of Ibrahím, and made themselves independent, but that Bórnu remained their kingdom.

All these dates given by Makrízi, as may be seen from the few most important events which I have extracted from the chronicle, are in most surprising harmony with the information conveyed in a dry and sterile but uncorrupted way by the latter. Notwithstanding the slight discrepancy in the order of succession of the later kings, whose reign was of very short duration, and whose relationship is rather perplexing, is it possible to find a harmony more complete than this, if we take into consideration the only way in which Makrízi could have obtained his information, that is to say, from merchants or pilgrims visiting Egypt on their way to Mekka?[60]

We now come to Ébn Batúta; and we again find the same surprising harmony between the fact regarding Bórnu, as mentioned by him, and the dates of the chronicle. The famous and enterprising traveller of Tangiers, on his return-journey from his visit to Western Sudán, left the capital of Mélle or Máli (that is, Mungo Park’s Jára) the 22nd of Moharrem, 754, and, proceeding by way of Timbúktu or Túmbutu, and thence down the Ísa or Niger to Gágho or Gógo, and thence to Tekádda[61], in speaking about the copper found in the mines near this town, relates that the bars made of it were exported to Góber and Rágha (or rather Ragháy), and also to Bórnu, and then adds the interesting fact that the name of the ruling king of the latter country was Edrís.

Now, if we follow implicitly the dates of the chronicle, Edrís ben Ibrahím (Nikále) ascended the throne in that very year (753) when, according to this precious and unimpeachable testimony of the illustrious and intelligent traveller, he actually occupied the throne.

The very remarkable and really surprising harmony here shown to exist between the chronicle and the dates which have come to our knowledge from other sources, will, I hope, give to any unprejudiced mind some degree of confidence in the authenticity of that document, and will make him aware of its superiority over the information of a man like Leo Africanus, or rather Hasen Ebn Mohammed el Wasás, who, though he undoubtedly has, and will always have, the merit of having given to Europe a clear general view of the political and linguistic groups of Central Africa, yet, on account of the manner in which his report was drawn up (merely from memory, after the lapse of many years), cannot be a decisive authority on any special circumstance. Hence, when he states that the name of the king of Bórnu, at the time when he visited the country, was Abraham (Ibrahím), we may confidently assume that he is wrong, and that he speaks of the illustrious conqueror ʿAlí ben Dúnama, who restored peace and glory to that distracted country, and, on account of his warlike character and his various expeditions, obtained the surname el Gházi. I shall return to this subject in the chronological table, in speaking of the reign of ʿAlí ben Dúnama.

As for the document mentioned above as No. 5., it contains a few valuable dates with regard to those Bórnu kings who reigned near the time when the author obtained his information in Tripoli, while for the older times, about which the people could only inform him “par tradition de leurs pères” his information is of little value. The most important dates which it contains are those which have reference to the time of the accession to the throne of the three Bórnu kings, ʿAbd-Allah ben Dúnama, Háj ʿOmár, and Háj ʿAlí; and these vary but little from the dates computed from the chronicle, and serve therefore to confirm its accuracy.

However, it is not my design to vindicate this chronicle from all possibility of error; but my object is to show that its general character, dry and meagre as it is, has the strongest claim to authenticity. Indeed I am sure that it can be fully relied upon, all uncertainty being reduced to a space of one or two years; I may therefore be allowed to assert that the chronological table, which I shall give in the Appendix, is something more than a mere fairy tale. But in this place, I think it well to offer a few general remarks on the characteristic features of the history of Bórnu.

I have first to speak of the origin of the Séfuwa or Dúguwa. We have already seen that the chronology of the Bórnu people, if palpable absurdities be left out of consideration, does not carry their history further down than the latter half of the ninth century of our era. Accordingly there can be no further question as to whether Séf was really the son of the celebrated Dhu Yazan, and identical with Séf Dhu Yazan, the last native ruler of the Himyaritic kingdom, who celebrated his accession to the throne in the famous castle of Gumdán, and with the assistance of Khosru Parvis liberated Yeman from the dominion of the Abyssinians. I frankly confess that, while Ibrahím the son of Séf, as “father of the king” (as he appears to have been entitled occasionally), seems to me to have a really historical character, I entertain sincere doubts whether Séf be not a mere imaginary personage, introduced into the pedigree expressly in order to connect it with Yeman. Indeed, in one short list of Bórnu kings which I possess, several princes are mentioned before Séf, whose names, such as Futírmi, Hálar Sukayámi, Halármi, Bunúmi, Rizálmi, Mairími, have quite a Kanúri character. As the reader will see, I do not at all doubt of some connection existing between the ruling family of Bórnu and the Himyaritic or Kushitic stock; but I doubt its immediate descent from the royal Himyaritic family.

But be this as it may, I think that Leo Africanus, who is a very good authority for general relations, is right in stating that the kings of Bórnu originated from the Libyan tribe of the Bardoa, a tribe also mentioned by Makrízi as Berdʿoa. That there is an ethnological connection between the names Bérnu or Bórnu, Bórgu, Berdʿoa, Berdáma, Berauni, Berber, can scarcely be doubted; but to many the Berdʿoa might seem to have nearer relation with the Tedá or Tébu than with the real Berber or Mazígh. Sultan Béllo certainly, in the introduction to his history of the conquests of the Fúlbe, expressly says that the Bórnu dynasty was of Berber origin; and it is on this account that the Háusa people call every Bórnu man “ba-Bérberche,”[62] and the Bórnu nation “Bérbere.” This view of the subject is confirmed by the distinct statement of Makrízi[63], who says that that was the common tradition of the people at his time—“it is said that they are descended from the Berbers,”—and moreover in another passage[64] informs us that the king of Kánem was a nomade, or wanderer; although it seems that this statement refers properly to the Bulála dynasty.

Before the time of Sélma, or Sélmama, the son of Bíkoru, whose reign began about A.H. 581, the kings are stated by the chronicle to have been of a red complexion[65], like the Arabs; and to such an origin from the red race, the Syrian-Berber stock, is certainly to be referred their custom of covering the face and never showing the mouth, to which custom Ébn Batúta adverts in speaking of King Edrís, who ruled in his time. To this origin is also to be referred the custom, till recently practised, of putting the new king upon a shield, and raising him up over the heads of the people[66], as well as the polity of the empire, which originally was entirely aristocratical, based upon a council of twelve chiefs, without whose assent nothing of importance could be undertaken by the king.

We have a very curious statement concerning the Bórnu empire, emanating from Lucas, the traveller employed by the African Association[67], and based on the authority of his Arab informants, principally Ben ʿAlí, who no doubt was a very clever and intelligent man. He describes the Bórnu kingdom as an elective monarchy, the privilege of choosing a successor among the sons of a deceased king, without regard to priority of birth, being conferred by the nation on three of the most distinguished men of the country. He does not say whether these belonged to the courtiers, or whether every private individual might be called upon promiscuously to fulfil this important duty; but the strict etiquette of the court of Bórnu makes it probable that the former was the case.

Be this as it may, the choice being made, the three electors proceeded to the apartment of the sovereign elect, and conducted him in silence to the gloomy place in which the unburied corpse of his deceased father was deposited; for till this whole ceremony was gone through the deceased could not be interred. There, over the corpse of his deceased father, the newly elected king seems to have entered into some sort of compromise sanctioned by oath, binding himself that he would respect the ancient institutions, and employ himself for the glory of the country.

I shall have to mention a similar custom still prevailing at the present day in the province of Múniyó, which belonged to that part of the empire called Yerí, while the dynasty of the Múniyóma probably descended from the Berber race. Every newly elected Múniyóma, still at the present day, is in duty bound to remain for seven days in a cave hollowed out by nature, or by the hand of man, in the rock behind the place of sepulchre of the former Múniyóma, in the ancient town of Gámmasak, although it is quite deserted at present, and does not contain a living soul.

But that not only the royal family, but even a great part of the whole nation, or rather one of the nations which were incorporated into the Bórnu empire, was of Berber origin, is still clear so late as the time of Edrís Alawóma, that is to say, only two centuries and a half ago; for in the report of his expeditions, constant mention is made of the Berber tribes (“kabáíl el Beráber”) as a large component part of his army, and constantly two parts of this army are distinguished as the Reds, “el Áhhmar,” and the Blacks, “e’ Súd.”[68]

This part of the population of Bórnu has separated from the rest, I suspect, in consequence of the policy of ʿAlí, the son and successor of Háj ʿOmár, a very warlike prince, who, in the second half of the 17th century, waged a long war with Ágades.

Viewed in the light thus shed by past history, the continual and uninterrupted warlike expeditions made by the Tawárek at the present time against the northern regions of Bórnu and against Kánem assume quite a new and far more interesting character.

Now if it be objected that the Kanúri or Bórnu language does not appear to contain any Berber elements[69] (which indeed it does not), I have only to adduce the exactly parallel example of the Bulála, a brother dynasty of the Bórnu royal family, descended from the same stock, who, having settled and founded a dynasty among the tribe of the Kúka, in the territory of Fíttri, still continued to speak their native language, that is the Kanúri, in the time of Leo[70], but have now entirely forgotten it, adopting the language of the people over whom they ruled; and similar examples are numerous.

A second point which deserves notice is, that the Kanúri even at the present day call people in general, but principally their kings, always after the name of their mother, and that the name of the mother’s tribe is almost continually added in the chronicle as a circumstance of the greatest importance. Thus the famous king Dúnama ben Selmʿaa is known in Bórnu generally only under the name of Díbalámi, from the name of his mother Díbala; and the full form of his royal title is Díbalámi Dúnama Selmámi, his mother’s name, as the most noble and important, preceding his individual name, which is followed by the name derived from his father. It is also evident, even from the dry and jejune report of the chronicle, what powerful influence the Walíde or “Mágira”—this is her native title—exercised in the affairs of the kingdom; I need only mention the examples of Gúmsu (“gúmsu” means the chief wife) Fasámi, who imprisoned her son Bíri, when already king, for a whole year, and of Áʿaishad or ʿAisa, the mother of Edrís, who for a number of years exercised such paramount authority, that in some lists, and even by many ʿulama at the present time, her name is inserted in the list of the sovereigns of the country.

These circumstances may be best explained by supposing that a kind of compromise took place between the strangers—Berbers, or rather Imóshagh (Mazígh) from the tribe of the Berdʿoa—and the tribe or tribes among whom they settled, just in the same manner as we have seen that a stipulation of the same kind was probably made between the conquering Kél-owí and the ancient inhabitants of Aïr of the Góber race; and the same circumstances, with similar results, are observable in ancient times, in the relations subsisting between the Grecian colonists and the original inhabitants of Lycia.

The most important among the indigenous tribes of Kánem are the Kíye or Beni Kíya, also mentioned in the time of Edrís Alawóma[71], the Meghármah, who may possibly be identical with the Ghemármah, the Temághera[72] (evidently a Berber name), the Débiri, the Kúnkuna, at present established in Kárgá, and finally the Tébu or Tubu, or rather Tedá. Of all these the last-named constituted by far the most important and most numerous tribe. To them belonged the mother of Dúnama ben Humé, the most powerful of the older kings of Bórnu, who appears to have thrice performed the pilgrimage to Mekka. Indeed it would seem that the real talisman which Díbalámi Dúnama Selmámi spoiled consisted in the friendly relation between the Berauni or Kanúri and the Tébu, which was so intimate that the name of Berauni, which originally belonged to the inhabitants of Bórnu, is still at present the common name given by the Tawárek to the Tébu; or rather, the latter are a race intimately related to the original stock of the Kanúri, as must become evident to every unprejudiced mind that investigates their language.[73]

How powerful a tribe the Tedá were, is sufficiently shown by the length of the war which they carried on with that very king Dúnama Selmámi, and which is said to have lasted more than seven years. Indeed, it would seem as if it had been only by the assistance of this powerful tribe that the successors of Jíl Shikomémi were able to found the powerful dynasty of the Bulála, and to lay the foundation of the great empire called by Leo Gaoga, comprehending all the eastern and north-eastern parts of the old empire of Kánem, and extending at times as far as Dóngola, so that in the beginning of the 16th century it was larger than Bórnu.[74] Even in the latter half of the 16th century, the Tedá appear to have constituted a large proportion of the military force of the Bulála in Kánem; and great numbers of them are said, by the historian of the powerful king Edrís Alawóma, to have emigrated from Kánem into Bórnu, in consequence of the victories obtained by that prince over the Bulála. At that time they seem to have settled principally in the territories of the Koyám, a tribe very often mentioned in the book of Imám Ahmed as forming part of the Bórnu army, and with whom at present they are completely intermixed.[75] It is very remarkable, that neither by the chronicle, nor by the historian of Edrís Alawóma, the large tribe of the Mánga, which evidently formed a very considerable element in the formation of the Bórnu nation, is ever once mentioned.

While the tribes above enumerated were more or less absorbed by the empire of Kánem, and, in the course of time, adopted the Mohammedan religion professed by its rulers, there was, on the other hand, a very numerous indigenous tribe which did not become amalgamated with the conquering element, but, on the contrary, continued to repel it in a hostile manner, and for a long time threatened its very existence. These were the “Soy” or “Só,” a tribe settled originally in the vast territory inclosed towards the north and north-west by the komádugu Wáube, erroneously called the Yeou, and towards the east by the Shári, and divided, as it would seem, into several small kingdoms.

This powerful tribe was not completely subjugated before the time of Edrís Alawóma, or the latter part of the 16th century; and it might be matter of surprise that they are not mentioned at all by the chronicle before the middle of the 14th century, if it were not that even circumstances and facts of the very greatest importance are passed over in silence by this arid piece of nomenclature. It would therefore be very inconsistent to conclude from this silence, that before the period mentioned the princes of Kánem had never come into contact with the tribe of the Soy; the reason why the chronicle, sparing as it is of information, could not any longer pass them over in silence, was that in the space of three years they had vanquished and killed four successive kings. The places mentioned in the list, where the first three of these princes were slain, cannot be identified with absolute certainty; but as for Nánighám, where Mohammed ben ʿAbd Allah was killed, it certainly lay close to, and probably in, the territory of the Soy. After this period we learn nothing with regard to this tribe until the time of Edrís Alawóma, although it seems probable that Edrís Nikálemi, the successor of Mohammed ben ʿAbd Allah, and the contemporary of Ebn Batúta, had first to gain a victory over the Soy, before he was able to sit down quietly upon his throne.

Altogether, in the history of Bórnu we can distinguish the following epochs. First, the rise of power in Kánem, Njímiye being the capital of the empire, silent and imperceptible till we see on a sudden, in the beginning of the 12th century, the powerful prince Dúnama ben Humé start forth under the impulse of Islám, wielding the strength of a young and vigorous empire, and extending his influence as far as Egypt. The acme, or highest degree of prosperity, of this period coincides with the reign of Díbalámi Dúnama Selmámi, in the middle of the 13th century, during the prime of the dynasty of the Beni Háfis in Tunis. But this reign already engendered the germs of decay; for during it the two cognate elements of which the empire consisted, namely the Tedá and the Kanúri, were disunited, and it yielded too much influence to the aristocratical element, which was represented by the twelve great offices, an institution which seems to deserve particular attention.[76]

The consequence was, that a series of civil wars and regicides ensued, interrupted only by the more tranquil reign of Ibrahím Nikálemi in the first half of the 14th century, which was followed, however, by the most unfortunate period of the empire, when the great native tribe of the Soy burst forth and killed four kings in succession. Then followed another respite from turmoil, just at the time when Ebn Batúta visited Negroland; but the son of the very king who in the time of that distinguished traveller ruled over Bórnu fell the first victim in the struggle that ensued with a power which had arisen from the same root, had gained strength during the civil wars of Bórnu, and which now threatened to swallow it up altogether. This was the dynasty of the Bulála, which, originating with the fugitive Bórnu prince Jíl Shikomémi, had established itself in the district of Fíttri over the tribe of the Kúka, and from thence spread its dominion in every direction till, after a sanguinary struggle, it conquered Kánem, and forced the Kanúri dynasty to seek refuge in the western provinces of its empire, about the year 1400 of our era.

The Bórnu empire (if we may give the name of empire to the shattered host of a belligerent tribe driven from their home and reduced to a few military encampments) for the next seventy years seemed likely to go to pieces altogether, till the great king ʿAli Dúnamámi opened another glorious period; for having at length mastered the aristocratical element, which had almost overwhelmed the monarchy, he founded as a central point of government a new capital or “bírni,” Ghasréggomo, the empire having been without a fixed centre since the abandonment of Njímiye. It was in his time that Leo Africanus visited Negroland, where he found the Bulála empire (Gaoga) still in the ascendant: but this was changed in the beginning of the 16th century, even before the publication of his account; for in the hundred and twenty-second (lunar) year from the time when ʿOmár was compelled to abandon his royal seat in Njímiye, ceding the rich country of Kánem, the very nucleus of the empire, to his rivals, the energetic king Edrís Katakarmábi entered that capital again with his victorious army, and from that time down to the beginning of the present century Kánem has remained a province of Bórnu, although it was not again made the seat of government.

Altogether the 16th century is one of the most glorious periods of the Bórnu empire, adorned as it is by such able princes as the two Edrís’ and Mohammed, while in Western Negroland the great Sónghay empire went to pieces, and was finally subjugated by Mulay Hámed el Mansúr, the emperor of Morocco. Then followed a quieter period, and old age seemed gradually to gain on the kingdom, while pious and peaceful kings occupied the throne, till in the middle of the last century the energetic and enterprising king ʿAli ʿOmármi began a violent struggle against that very nation from which the Bórnu dynasty had sprung, but which had now become its most fearful enemy—the Imóshagh or Tawárek. He made great exertions in every direction; but his efforts seem to have resembled the convulsions of death, and being succeeded by an indolent king, for such was Ahmed, the fatal hour which was to accomplish the extinction of the dynasty of the Séfuwa rapidly approached. At last, when the very centre of the empire had already fallen a prey to a new nation which had started forth on a career of glory, the Fúlbe or Felláta, there arose a stranger, a nationalized Arab, who, in saving the last remains of the kingdom, founded a new dynasty, that of the Kánemíyín, which, after having shone forth very brightly under its founder, was recently reduced by civil discord, and seems now destined to a premature old age.

Having here offered this general view of the empire of Bórnu, I refer for particulars to the appended chronological tables, which I trust, although very imperfect, particularly in the beginning, will yet form a sufficient groundwork wherewith to begin more profitable inquiries into the history of those regions than have been hitherto made.