At length we set out again on our interesting voyage, following first a south-easterly, then a north-easterly direction along this branch, which, for the first three miles and a half, retained some importance, being here about 200 yards wide, when the channel divided a second time, the more considerable branch turning off towards Yélluwa and Zegália, and other smaller hamlets situated on the islands of Day, while the watercourse which we followed dwindled away to a mere narrow meadow-water, bearing the appearance of an artificial ditch or canal, which, as I now heard, is entirely dry during the dry season, so that it becomes impossible to embark directly at Kábara for places situated higher up or lower down the river. But at that time I had formed the erroneous idea that this canal never became navigable for more than four months in the year, and thence concluded that it would have been impossible for Caillié to have reached Kábara in his boat in the month of April. The navigation of this water became so difficult, that all my people were obliged to leave the boat, which, with great difficulty was dragged on by the boatmen, who themselves entered the water and lifted and pushed it along with their hands. But before we reached Kábara, which is situated on the slope of a sandy eminence, the narrow and shallow channel widened to a tolerably large basin of circular shape; and here, in front of the town, seven good-sized boats were lying, giving to the whole place some little life. Later in the season, when the channel becomes navigable for larger boats, the intercourse becomes much more animated. During the palmy days of the Songhay empire, an uninterrupted intercourse took place between Gágho and Timbúktu on the one side, and between Timbúktu and Jenni on the other, and a numerous fleet was always lying here under the orders of an admiral of great power and influence. The basin has such a regular shape, that it looks as if it were artificial; but, nevertheless, it may be the work of nature, as Kábara from the most ancient times has been the harbour of Timbúktu, and at times seems even to have been of greater importance than the latter place itself.
A branch of the river turns off to the east, without however reaching the main trunk, so that in general, except when the whole country is inundated, boats from Kábara which are going down the river must first return in a south-westerly direction towards Koróme, in order to reach the main branch. Even at the present time, however, when this whole region is plunged into an abyss of anarchy and misrule, the scene was not entirely wanting in life; for women were filling their pitchers or washing clothes on large stones jutting out from the water, while a number of idle people had collected on the beach to see who the stranger was that had just arrived.
At length we lay to, and sending two of my people on shore, in order to obtain quarters, I followed them as soon as possible, when I was informed that they had procured a comfortable dwelling for me. The house where I was lodged was a large and grand building (if we take into account the general relations of this country), standing on the very top of the mound on the slope of which the town is situated. It was of an oblong shape, consisting of very massive clay walls, which were even adorned, in a slight degree, with a rude kind of relief; and it included, besides two anterooms, an inner courtyard, with a good many smaller chambers, and an upper story. The interior, with its small stores of every kind, and its assortment of sheep, ducks, fowls, and pigeons, in different departments, resembled Noah’s ark, and afforded a cheerful sight of homely comfort which had been preserved here from more ancient and better times, notwithstanding the exactions of Fúlbe and Imóshagh.
Having taken possession of the two ante-rooms for my people and luggage, I endeavoured to make myself as comfortable as possible; while the busy landlady, a tall and stout personage, in the absence of her husband, a wealthy Songhay merchant, endeavoured to make herself agreeable, and offered me the various delicacies of her store for sale; but these were extremely scanty, the chief attraction to us, besides a small bowl of milk seasoned with honey, being some onions, of which I myself was not less in want than my people for seasoning our simple food; but fresh ones were not even to be got here, the article sold being a peculiar preparation which is imported from Sansándi, the onions, which are of very small size, being cut into slices and put in water, then pounded in a wooden mortar, dried again, and, by means of some butter, made up into a sort of round ball, which is sold in small pats of an inch and a half in diameter for five shells each: these are called “láwashi” in Fulfúlde, or “gabú” in the Songhay language. Besides this article, so necessary for seasoning the food, I bought a little bulánga, or vegetable butter, in order to light up the dark room where I had taken up my quarters; but the night which I passed here was a very uncomfortable one, on account of the number of mosquitoes which infest the whole place.
Thus broke the 6th of September,—a very important day for me, as it was to determine the kind of reception I was to meet with in this quarter. But notwithstanding the uncertainty of my prospects, I felt cheerful and full of confidence; and, as I was now again firmly established on dry soil, I went early in the morning to see my horse, which had successfully crossed all the different branches lying between Kábara and Sarayámo; but I was sorry to find him in a very weak and emaciated condition.
While traversing the village, I was surprised at the many clay buildings which are to be seen here, amounting to between 150 and 200; however, these are not so much the dwellings of the inhabitants of Kábara themselves, but serve rather as magazines for storing up the merchandise belonging to the people of, and the foreign merchants residing in, Timbúktu and Sansándi. There are two small market-places, one containing about twelve stalls or sheds, where all sorts of articles are sold, the other being used exclusively for meat. Although it was still early in the day, women were already busy boiling rice, which is sold in small portions, or made up into thin cakes boiled with bulánga, and sold for five shells each. Almost all the inhabitants, who may muster about 2000, are Songhay; but the authorities belong to the tribe of the Fúlbe, whose principal wealth consists of cattle, the only exception being the office of the inspector of the harbour,—a very ancient office, repeatedly mentioned by Áhmed Bábá,—which at present is in the hands of Múláy Kásim, a sheríf whose family is said to have emigrated originally from the Gharb or Morocco, but who has become so Sudánised that he has forgotten all his former knowledge of Arabic. On account of the cattle being driven to a great distance, I found that milk was very scarce and dear. The inhabitants cultivate a little rice, but have some cotton, besides bámia, or Corchorus olitorius, and melons of various descriptions.
Having returned to my quarters from my walk through the town, I had to distribute several presents to some people whom El Waláti chose to represent as his brothers and friends. Having then given to himself a new, glittering, black tobe of Núpe manufacture, a new “háf,” and the white bernús which I wore myself, I at length prevailed upon him to set out for the town, in order to obtain protection for me; for as yet I was an outlaw in the country, and any ruffian who suspected my character might have slain me, without scarcely anybody caring anything about it; and circumstances seemed to assume a very unfavourable aspect: for there was a great movement among the Tawárek in the neighbourhood, when it almost seemed as if some news of my real character had transpired. Not long after my two messengers were gone, a Tárki chief, of the name of Knéha, with tall and stately figure, and of noble expressive features, as far as his shawl around the face allowed them to be seen, but, like the whole tribe of the Kél-hekíkan to which he belongs, bearing a very bad character as a freebooter, made his appearance, armed with spear and sword, and obtruded himself upon me while I was partaking of my simple dish of rice; notwithstanding which, he took his seat at a short distance opposite to me. Not wishing to invite him to a share in my poor frugal repast by the usual “bismillah,” I told him, first in Arabic and then in Fulfúlde, that I was dining, and had no leisure to speak with him at present. Whereupon he took his leave, but returned after a short while, and, in a rather peremptory manner, solicited a present from me, being, as he said, a great chief of the country; but as I was not aware of the extent of his power, and being also afraid that others might imitate his example, I told him that I could not give him anything before I had made due inquiries respecting his real importance from my companion who had just gone to the town. But he was not at all satisfied with my argument; representing himself as a great “dhálem,” or evil-doer, and that as such he might do me much harm; till at length, after a very spirited altercation, I got rid of him.
He was scarcely gone, when the whole house was filled with armed men, horse and foot, from Timbúktu, most of them clad in light blue tobes, tightly girt round the waist with a shawl, and dressed in short breeches reaching only to the knee, as if they were going to fight, their head being covered with a straw hat of the peculiar shape of a little hut with regular thatchwork, such as is fashionable among the inhabitants of Másina and of the provinces further west. They were armed with spears, besides which some of them wore also a sword: only a few of them had muskets. Entering the house rather abruptly, and squatting down in the ante-chambers and courtyard, just where they could find a place, they stared at me not a little, and began asking of each other who this strange-looking fellow might be, while I was reclining on my two smaller boxes, having my larger ones and my other luggage behind me. I was rather at a loss to account for their intrusion, until I learned, upon inquiry from my landlady, that they were come in order to protect their cattle from the Tawárek, who at the time were passing through the place, and who had driven away some of their property. The very person whom they dreaded was the chief Knéha, who had just left me, though they could not make out his whereabouts. Having refreshed themselves during the hot hours of the day, these people started off; but the alarm about the cattle continued the whole of the afternoon, and not less than 200 armed men came into my apartments in the course of an hour.
My messengers not returning at the appointed time from their errand to the town, I had at length retired to rest in the evening, when shortly before midnight they arrived, together with Sídi Álawáte, the Sheikh El Bakáy’s brother, and several of his followers, who took up their quarters on the terrace of my house in order to be out of the reach of the mosquitoes; and after they had been regaled with a good supper, which had been provided beforehand by some of the townspeople, I went to pay my respects to them.
It was an important interview; for, although this was not the person for whom my visit was specially intended, and whose favourable or unfavourable disposition would influence the whole success of my arduous undertaking, yet for the present I was entirely in his hands, and all depended upon the manner in which he received me. Now my two messengers had only disclosed to himself personally, that I was a Christian, while at the same time they had laid great stress upon the circumstance that, although a Christian, I was under the special protection of the Sultan of Stambúl; and Sídi Álawáte inquired therefore of me, with great earnestness and anxiety, as to the peculiar manner in which I enjoyed the protection of that great Mohammedan sovereign.
Now it was most unfortunate for me that I had no direct letter from that quarter. Even the firmán with which we had been provided by the Bashá of Tripoli had been delivered to the governor for whom it was destined, so that at the time I had nothing with me to show but a firmán which I had used on my journey in Egypt, and which of course had no especial relation to the case in question. The want of such a general letter of protection from the Sultan of Constantinople, which I had solicited with so much anxiety to be sent after me, was in the sequel the chief cause of my difficult and dangerous position in Timbúktu; for, furnished with such a letter, it would have been easy to have imposed silence upon my adversaries and enemies there, and especially upon the merchants from Morocco, who were instigated by the most selfish jealousy to raise all sorts of intrigues against me.
Having heard my address with attention, although I was not able to establish every point so clearly as I could have wished, the sheikh’s brother promised me protection, and desired me to be without any apprehension with regard to my safety; and thus terminated my first interview with this man, who, on the whole, inspired me with a certain degree of confidence, although I was glad to think that he was not the man upon whom I had to rely for my safety. Having then had a further chat with his telamíd or pupils, with whom I passed for a Mohammedan, I took leave of the party and retired to rest in the close apartments of the lower story of the house.
Wednesday, September 7th.After a rather restless night, the day broke when I was at length to enter Timbúktu; but we had a good deal of trouble in performing this last short stage of our journey, deprived as we were of beasts of burden; for the two camels which the people had brought from the town in order to carry my boxes, proved much too weak, and it was only after a long delay that we were able to procure eleven donkeys for the transport of all my luggage. Meanwhile the rumour of a traveller of importance having arrived had spread far and wide, and several inhabitants of the place sent a breakfast both for myself and my protector. Just at the moment when we were at length mounting our horses, it seemed as if the Tárki chief Knéha was to cause me some more trouble, for in the morning he had sent me a vessel of butter in order thus to acquire a fair claim upon my generosity; and coming now for his reward, he was greatly disappointed when he heard that the present had fallen into the hands of other people.
It was ten o’clock when our cavalcade at length put itself in motion, ascending the sandhills which rise close behind the village of Kábara, and which, to my great regret, had prevented my obtaining a view of the town from the top of our terrace. The contrast of this desolate scenery with the character of the fertile banks of the river which I had just left behind was remarkable. The whole tract bore decidedly the character of a desert, although the path was thickly lined on both sides with thorny bushes and stunted trees, which were being cleared away in some places in order to render the path less obstructed and more safe, as the Tawárek never fail to infest it, and at present were particularly dreaded on account of their having killed a few days previously three petty Tawáti traders on their way to Árawán. It is from the unsafe character of this short road between the harbour and the town, that the spot, about halfway between Kábara and Timbúktu, bears the remarkable name of “Ur-immándes,” “he does not hear,” meaning the place where the cry of the unfortunate victim is not heard from either side.
Having traversed two sunken spots designated by especial names, where, in certain years when the river rises to an unusual height, as happened in the course of the same winter, the water of the inundation enters and occasionally forms even a navigable channel; and leaving on one side the talha tree of the Welí Sálah, covered with innumerable rags of the superstitious natives, who expect to be generously rewarded by their saint with a new shirt, we approached the town: but its dark masses of clay not being illuminated by bright sunshine, for the sky was thickly overcast and the atmosphere filled with sand, were scarcely to be distinguished from the sand and rubbish heaped all round; and there was no opportunity for looking attentively about, as a body of people were coming towards us in order to pay their compliments to the stranger and bid him welcome. This was a very important moment, as, if they had felt the slightest suspicion with regard to my character, they might easily have prevented my entering the town at all, and thus even endangered my life.
I therefore took the hint of Álawáte, who recommended me to make a start in advance in order to anticipate the salute of these people who had come to meet us; and putting my horse to a gallop, and gun in hand, I galloped up to meet them, when I was received with many saláms. But a circumstance occurred which might have proved fatal, not only to my enterprise, but even to my own personal safety, as there was a man among the group who addressed me in Turkish, which I had almost entirely forgotten; so that I could with difficulty make a suitable answer to his compliment; but avoiding farther indiscreet questions, I pushed on in order to get under safe cover.
Having then traversed the rubbish which has accumulated round the ruined clay wall of the town, and left on one side a row of dirty reed huts which encompass the whole of the place, we entered the narrow streets and lanes, or, as the people of Timbúktu say, the tijeráten, which scarcely allowed two horses to proceed abreast. But I was not a little surprised at the populous and wealthy character which this quarter of the town, the Sáne-Gúngu, exhibited, many of the houses rising to the height of two stories, and in their façade evincing even an attempt at architectural adornment. Thus, taking a more westerly turn, and followed by a numerous troop of people, we passed the house of the Sheikh El Bakáy, where I was desired to fire a pistol; but as I had all my arms loaded with ball I prudently declined to do so, and left it to one of my people to do honour to the house of our host. We thus reached the house on the other side of the street, which was destined for my residence, and I was glad when I found myself safely in my new quarters.
But before describing my residence in this town, I shall make a few general remarks with regard to the history of Songhay and Timbúktu.
GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON THE HISTORY OF SONGHAY AND TIMBÚKTU.
Previously to my journey into the region of the Niger, scarcely any data were known with regard to the history of this wide and important tract, except a few isolated facts, elicited with great intelligence and research by Mr. Cooley[85] from El Bekrí, the history of Ebn Khaldún, the obscure and confused report of Leo about the great Ischia, and the barren statement of the conquest of Timbúktu and Gágho, or Gógo, by Múláy Áhmed el Dhéhebi, as mentioned by some historians of Morocco and Spain. But I myself was so successful as to have an opportunity of perusing a complete history of the kingdom of Songhay, from the very dawn of historical records down to the year 1640 of our era; although, unfortunately, circumstances prevented my bringing back a complete copy of this manuscript, which forms a respectable quarto volume, and I was only able, during the few days that I had this manuscript in my hands during my stay in Gandó, to make short extracts of those passages from its contents which I thought of the highest interest in an historical and geographical point of view.
These annals, according to the universal statement of the learned people of Negroland, were written by a distinguished person of the name of Áhmed Bábá, although in the work itself that individual is only spoken of in the third person; and it would seem that additions had been made to the book by another hand; but on this point I cannot speak with certainty, as I had not sufficient time to read over the latter portion of the work with the necessary attention and care. As for Áhmed Bábá, we know from other interesting documents which have lately come to light[86], that he was a man of great learning, considering the country in which he was born, having composed a good many books or essays, and instructed a considerable number of pupils. Moreover, we learn that he was a man of the highest respectability, so that even after he had been carried away prisoner by the victorious army of Múláy Áhmed el Dhéhebi, his very enemies treated him with the greatest respect, and the inhabitants of Morocco, in general, regarded him with the highest veneration.[87]
This character of the author would alone be sufficient to guarantee the trustworthiness of his history, as far as he was able to go back into the past with any degree of accuracy, from the oral traditions of the people, or from written documents of an older period: for that the beginning of his annals, like that of every other nation, should be enveloped in a certain degree of mystery and uncertainty is very natural, and our author himself is prudent enough to pass over the earlier part in the most rapid and cursory manner, only mentioning the mere name of each king, except that he states the prominent facts with regard to the founder of each dynasty. Nay, even what he says of the founder of the dynasty of the Zá, allowance being made for the absurd interpretation of names, which is usual with Arabs and Orientals in general, and also the particulars which he gives with regard to Kilun, or Kilnu, founder of the dynasty of the Sonni[88], is very characteristic, and certainly true in the main. For there is no doubt that the founder of the first dynasty immigrated from a foreign country,—a circumstance which is confirmed by other accounts,— and nothing is more probable than that he abolished the most striking features of pagan superstition, namely, the worship of a peculiar kind of fish, which was probably the famous ayú, or Manatus, of which I have spoken on a former occasion[89], and of whose habitat in the waters of the Niger I shall say more further on; while ʿAlí Killun succeeded in usurping the royal power by liberating his country from the sovereignty of the kings of Melle, who had conquered Songhay about the middle of the fourteenth century. Nor can there be any doubt of the truth of the statement that Zá-Kasí, the fifteenth king of the dynasty of the Zá, about the year 400 of the Hejra, or in the beginning of the eleventh century of our era, embraced Islám, and was the first Mohammedan king of Songhay. No man who studies impartially those very extracts which I have been able to make from the manuscript, in great haste and under the most unfavourable circumstances, and which were translated and published in the journal of the Leipsic Oriental Society[90] by Mr. Ralfs, can deny that they contain a vast amount of valuable information. But the knowledge which Europeans possessed of those countries, before my discoveries, was so limited, as to render the greater part of the contents of my extracts, which are intimately related to localities formerly entirely unknown, or in connection with historical facts not better ascertained, difficult of comprehension. But with the light now shed by my journey and my researches over these regions and their inhabitants, I have no hesitation in asserting that the work of Áhmed Bábá will be one of the most important additions which the present age has made to the history of mankind, in a branch which was formerly almost unknown.
Áhmed Bábá, however, limits himself to the records of the political relations of Songhay, and does not enter into any ethnological questions, leaving us entirely in the dark as to the original seats of the tribe; for while in general, on the banks of the Niger, the towns of Tindírma and Díre are supposed to be the original seats of the Songhay, Áhmed Bábá apparently restricts the limits of the ancient Songhay to the eastern quarter around Kúkiya, stating distinctly[91] that the town of Timbúktu was not under the authority of any foreign king before it became subjected to the dominion of Kunkur-Músa, the celebrated king of Melle. Yet from this statement we cannot conclude with absolute certainty that the banks of the great river to the south-west of that town were not comprised in the kingdom of Songhay before that period; for Timbúktu, lying on the north side of the river, and being founded by the Tawárek or Imóshagh, was an independent place by itself, and in the beginning not closely connected with the history of the surrounding region. It might easily have happened, therefore, that the Songhay language was not at all spoken in Timbúktu at a former period, without any conclusion being drawn from this circumstance respecting the country to the south and south-west of the river. But although, according to Áhmed Bábá’s account, the foundation of the place was entirely due to the Imóshagh, it is probable that, from the very beginning, a portion of the inhabitants of the town belonged to the Songhay nation[92]; and I rather suppose, therefore, that the original form of the name was the Songhay form Túmbutu, from whence the Imóshagh made Tumbýtku, which was afterwards changed by the Arabs into Tumbuktu.[93]
But the series of chronological facts which we learn from Áhmed Bábá, or from other sources, I shall give in a tabular form in the Appendix. Here I will only draw the reader’s attention to a few of the most striking facts, and make some general remarks on the character of that history.
It is very remarkable, that while Islám in the two larger westerly kingdoms which flourished previously to that of Songhay,—I mean Ghána, or Ghánata, and Melle,—had evidently emanated from the north, and especially from Sijilmésa, Songhay appears to have been civilised from the other side, namely, from Egypt, the intimate relation with which is proved by many interesting circumstances, although, in a political respect, it could only adopt the same forms of government which had been developed already in Ghána and Melle; nay, we shall find even some of the same titles. With respect to Ghána, we learn from Áhmed Bábá the very interesting fact[94] that twenty kings were supposed to have ruled over that kingdom at the time when Mohammed spread the new creed which was to agitate and to remodel half of the globe.
The kingdom of Songhay, even after ʿAlí Killun had made it independent of Melle, could not fail to remain rather weak and insignificant, as even Timbúktu, and probably a great portion of the country to the east of that town, was not comprised in its limits: nay, it even appears that the kingdom was still, at times, dependent in a certain degree upon Melle, the great kingdom on the upper course of the Niger; and it was not until almost 150 years after the time of ʿAlí Killun that the powerful king Sonni ʿAlí, the Sonni Héli of Leo Africanus, conquered Timbúktu, wresting it, with immense slaughter, A.H. 894, A.D. 1488, from the hands of the Tawárek, who had themselves conquered it from Melle. This king, although he is represented by all the learned men of Negroland as a very cruel and sanguinary prince, was no doubt a great conqueror; for although it was he who, in taking possession of this town, inflicted upon the inhabitants a most severe punishment, surpassing even the horrors which had accompanied the taking of the town by the king of Mósi, nevertheless it was he also who gave the first impulse to the great importance which Timbúktu henceforth obtained, by conquering the central seat of the old empire of Ghánata, and thus inducing the rich merchants from the north, who had formerly been trading with Bíru or Waláta, and who had even occasionally resided there, to transfer their trade to Timbúktu and Gágho. It is the same king, no doubt, that attracted the attention of the Portuguese, who, in the reigns of Joâo and Emmanuel, sent several embassies into the interior, not only to Melle[95], which at that time had already greatly declined in power and importance, but also to Timbúktu, where Sonni ʿAlí seems to have principally resided; and it was perhaps partly on account of the relations which he entertained with the Christian king (to whom he even opened a trading station as far inland as Wadán or Hóden), besides his cruelty against the chiefs of religion, that the Mohammedans were less satisfied with his government; for there is no doubt that he was not a strict Mohammedan.
It was Háj Mohammed Áskia who founded the new homonymous dynasty of the Áskia, by rising against his liege lord, the son of Sonni ʿAlí, and, after a desperate struggle, usurping the royal power; and, notwithstanding the glorious career of that great conqueror, we may fancy we can see in the unfortunate circumstances of the latter part of the reign of that king, a sort of Divine punishment for the example which he had given of revolt.
We have seen that the dynasty of the Zá, of which that of the Sonni seems to have been a mere continuation, immigrated from abroad; and it is a circumstance of the highest interest to see king Mohammed Áskia,—perhaps the greatest sovereign that ever ruled over Negroland,—who was a native of this very country, born in the island of Néni, a little below Sínder, in the Niger, setting us an example of the highest degree of development of which negroes are capable. For, while Sonni ʿAlí, like his forefathers, still belonged to that family of foreign settlers who either came from Yemen, according to the current tradition, or as is more credible, immigrated from Libya, as Leo states, the dynasty of the Áskía was entirely of native descent; and it is the more remarkable, if we consider that this king was held in the highest esteem and veneration by the most learned and rigid Mohammedans, while Sonni ʿAlí had rendered himself so odious that people did not know how to give full vent to their indignation in heaping the most opprobrious epithets upon him.
It is of no small interest to a person who endeavours to take a comprehensive view of the various races of mankind, to observe how, during the time when the Portuguese, carried away by the most heroic enterprise and the most praiseworthy energy, having gradually discovered and partly taken possession of the whole western coast of Africa, and having at length doubled its southernmost promontory, under the guidance of Almeida and Albuquerque, founded their Indian empire, that at this same time a negro king in the interior of the continent not only extended his conquests far and wide, from the centre of Háusa almost to the borders of the Atlantic, and from the pagan country of Mósi, in 12° northern latitude, as far as Tawát to the south of Morocco, but also governed the subjected tribes with justice and equity, causing well-being and comfort to spring up everywhere within the borders of his extensive dominions[96], and introducing such of the institutions of Mohammedan civilisation as he considered might be useful to his subjects. It is only to be lamented that, as is generally the case in historical records, while we are tolerably well informed as to the warlike proceedings of this king, it is merely from circumstances which occasionally transpire and are slightly touched upon, that we can draw conclusions as to the interior condition of his empire; and on this point I will make a few observations, before I proceed to the causes which rendered the foundation of this empire so unstable.
In a former part of my researches I have entered into the history and the polity of the empire of Bórnu, and it is interesting to compare with the latter that of the Songhay empire, which attained the zenith of its power just at the time when Bórnu likewise, having recovered, in consequence of the energy and warlike spirit of the king ʿAlí Ghajidéni, from the wounds inflicted upon it by the loss of Kánem, the desperate struggle with the tribe of the Soy, and a series of civil wars, attained its most glorious period during the reign of the two Edrís, in the course of the sixteenth century of our era.
In instituting such a comparison between these two extensive kingdoms of Negroland, we soon discover that the Songhay empire, although likewise stated to be founded by a Libyan dynasty, was far more despotic than its eastern rival; and it is in vain, that we here look either for a divan of twelve great officers, forming a powerful and highly influential aristocracy, or that eclectic form of choosing a successor, both of which we find in Bórnu: nay, not even the office of a vizier meets our eye, as we peruse the tolerably rich annals of Áhmed Bábá. We find, no doubt, powerful officers also in the Songhay empire, as must naturally be the case in a large kingdom; but these appear to have been merely governors of provinces, whom the king installed or deposed at his pleasure, and who exercised no influence upon the internal affairs of the kingdom, except when it was plunged into civil war.
These governors bore generally the title of “farma,” or “feréng,” a title which is evidently of Mandingo origin[97], and was traditionally derived from the institutions of the kingdom of Melle, while the native Songhay title of “koy” appears to be used only in order to denote officers of certain provinces, which originally were more intimately related to Songhay; and in this respect it is a remarkable fact, that the governor of Timbúktu or Túmbutu, is constantly called Túmbutu koy, and is only once called Túmbutu-mangha.[98] Besides this province, those which we find mentioned in the report of Áhmed Bábá are the following, going from east to west:—Dendi, or as it is now generally called Déndina, the country between Kebbi and Sáy[99], which I have described in the account of my own journey, and which seems to have contained a Songhay population from tolerably ancient times, at least before the beginning of the sixteenth century; but we find none of the three divisions of this important province specified, not even Kenga or Zágha. This is to be regretted, as they appear to have been of ancient origin, and as their history, especially that of Zágha, which seems to have derived its name from the more celebrated town of the same name on the upper course of the river, would be highly interesting.
The country from hence towards the capital we never find comprised by Áhmed Bábá under a general name, nor do we meet with the names of Zabérma or Zérma, which I therefore conclude to be of more recent origin, although that country, at present so named, was evidently comprised in the kingdom of Songhay. West of Gágho, on the banks of the river, we next find the province of Banku or Bengu[100], which evidently comprised that part of the river which is studded with islands, as we find the inspector of the harbour of Kábara taking refuge in the district of Banku, with the whole of his fleet, after the capture of the town by the people of Morocco. Passing then by the province of Bantal, the limits of which I have not been able to make out, we come to the province of Bel or Bal, which evidently comprised the country on the north side of the river round about Timbúktu, and, perhaps, some distance westwards; but without including that town itself, which had a governor of its own, nor even the harbour of Kábara, which at that time was of sufficient importance to be placed under the inspection of a special officer or “farma,” who, however, seems to have been subjected in a certain degree to the inspection of the Bal-mʿa, or the governor of Bal, who was able to call him to account.[101] The governor of the province of Bal, who bore the peculiar title of “Bal-mʿa,” a word likewise of Mandingo origin, mʿa corresponding to the Songhay word “koy,” seems to have been of great importance in a military respect, while in a moral point of view the governor of the town of Timbúktu enjoyed perhaps greater authority, and the office of the Túmbutu-koy, seems always to have been filled by a learned man or fákih, proving that this town was regarded at that time as the seat of learning; and that the fákih who governed the town of Timbúktu possessed great power is evident from the fact, that Áhmed Bábá mentions it as a proof of great neglect on the part of Al Hádi the governor of Tindírma, that he did not go in person to the kádhi to pay him his compliments.
Proceeding then westward from Bal and Timbúktu, we come to the very important province of Kúrmina, with the capital Tindírma, which very often served as a residence for the king himself, and became the chosen seat of Áskía Dáúd. The importance of the province of Kúrmina seems to have been based, not merely upon its military strength and populousness, but upon the circumstance of its having to supply Songhay Proper, together with its two large towns of Gágho and Kúkia, with grain; and it is evidently on this account, that the governor of that province is on one occasion called the storekeeper and provider of the king.[102] South-west from the province of Kúrmina, there were two provinces Dirma[103] and Bara, the exact boundaries of which it is difficult to determine; except that we know that Bara must have lain rather along the south-easterly branch of the river; while Dirma, having probably derived this name from the town of Díre, is most likely to be sought for on the north-westerly branch, although Caillié places Díriman, as he calls it, south of the river. The province or district of Sháʿa[104] may probably be identical with the district round the important town of Sʿa, situated a short distance to the north-east of the lake Debu, and of which further notice will be taken in the itineraries. Proceeding further in the same direction, we have the province of Másina, a name which, under the form of Másín, is mentioned as early as the latter part of the eleventh century by El Bekrí[105], but the limits of which it is very difficult to define, although it is clear that its central part comprises the islands formed by the different branches of the river, the Máyo balléo and the Máyo ghannéo, or dhannéo, and probably comprised in former times the ancient and most important town of Zágha the chief seat of Tekrúr, which Háj Mohammed Áskía had conquered in the beginning of his reign. It is peculiar, however, and probably serves to show the preponderance of the element of the Fúlbe in Másina, where they seem to have established themselves from very ancient times, that the governor of this province bore the title of Másina-mangha, instead of Másina-farma.
To the north-west of Másina, we have the province of Bághena, which comprised the central portion of the ancient kingdom of Ghána, or Ghánata, and the important town of Bíru, or Waláta, which, before Timbúktu rose to greater importance, that is to say, before the time of Sonni ʿAlí, was the great centre of commerce in this part of Negroland. The province of Bághena was also of considerable importance on account of its situation, bordering, as it did, closely upon the central parts of the empire of Melle, which, at this time, formed almost the only portion that remained of that vast empire, and which was nearly overwhelmed by the Songhay in the course of the sixteenth century. Even the Imóshagh or Tawárek became tributaries.
South of the river two other provinces are mentioned by Áhmed Bábá, namely, the province of Hómbori, which from the nature of the country was also called Tondi, or El Hajri, and Burgu[106], or rather Barba, though the latter country was apparently never entirely subjected.
The governors of these provinces were certainly possessed of considerable power, and belonging, as they did in general, to the royal family, exercised a very prejudicial influence upon the destinies of the empire, as at the same time the central government became weak and debilitated. The governor of Kúrmina, especially, conscious of the important influence and the rich character of his province, was very prone to mutiny and revolt. For as it was certainly a great advance in the scale of civilisation, that it was not customary amongst the Songhay to murder the younger brothers of the newly elected king, or to render them incapable of aspiring to the royal dignity by depriving them of their sight (as is still the custom in Wádáy), or in some other manner disabling them; so, on the other hand, it was no doubt very prejudicial to the stability of the empire, that so many royal princes were constantly installed as governors of powerful provinces, some of them situated at a great distance from the capital. Such a government could only prosper under the rule of a powerful king, such as Mohammed el Háj Áskía was during his most vigorous period.
On the other hand, we find that the government of Songhay was far more despotic than that of Bórnu, where, as I have had occasion to relate[107], the election of a new king from among the royal princes was placed in the hands of three electors, themselves chosen from the most trustworthy men of the country; while the kings of Songhay appear originally to have designated their own successor among the royal princes, there being even an established dignity of something like an heir-apparent or crown-prince, with the title of “feréng-mangha:”[108] but this principle, as is naturally the case in barbaric states without any written constitution, was only observed as long as the king exercised paramount authority, while we see in other cases the army, or even a powerful governor, choosing a successor, as that of Dendi, who deposed Mohammed Bánkorí, and installed in his place Áskía Ismʿaíl.
As I stated before, we do not even find in Songhay a regular vizier; but we find a sort of treasurer in the person of the “khatíb,” that is to say the imám who preaches before the congregation every Friday. Thus we find the great Háj Mohammed Áskía taking the whole of the money which he thought necessary for his royal pilgrimage, viz. 300,000 mithkáls, out of the royal treasury, which was in the hands of the khatíb ʿOmár[109]; but we even find, in another passage, the same khatíb authorised to liberate a princely prisoner; and, from a third passage[110], it is quite evident that the khatíb in Gágho exercised the same authority as the kádhi in Timbúktu, although we find a kádhi besides him in the capital.
There appears to have been an established state prison in Songhay, namely, in a place called Kantú, the exact situation of which, however, I have not yet been able to ascertain. This prison could not fail to become of great importance as the dissensions and feuds in the royal family increased; and there appears to be no doubt that at times it was quite full of royal prisoners, and in this respect, as well as on account of the various assassinations which occurred there, fully corresponded with the character of the Tower in the middle ages. There is no doubt that polygamy, with its consequent intrigues in the harím, was the chief cause of the speedy decline of the Songhay empire from the high position it had attained under the rule of Sonni ʿAlí and Háj Mohammed Áskía. The large number of ambitious children that Áskía Dáúd, the most peaceful of the Songhay rulers, left behind him, seems especially to have contributed in a great measure to this speedy decline; but the example had been set by that ruler himself, who, having no other claims to the royal dignity than his talent and energy, revolted against his liege lord, whom he conquered and supplanted, but had himself to endure the misfortune of being persecuted, and finally dethroned in his old age, by his own son Músa.
On the subject of the manners and customs and the state of society in Songhay during its period of power, we find but little in the short extracts which I was able to make from the history of Áhmed Bábá; still a few hints as to some remarkable usages are to be gleaned from them. Islám, as we have seen, had been adopted by the royal family at the beginning of the eleventh century of our era; but we learn from the eminent Andalusian geographer El Bekrí, who finished his work on Africa in the year 1067, that while the king was a Moslim by law, receiving at his accession to the throne, as emblems of his authority, a sword, ring, and a copy of the Kurán, which were said to have been sent by an Emír el Múmenín (from Egypt), the greater part of the inhabitants even of the capital, at that time, were still addicted to paganism[111]; and we may fairly conclude from the description of Leo Africanus, and from what we observe in Negroland at the present day, that even during the time of the Áskías, the greater part of the natives of the country were idolaters, at least in heart and superstitious usages. However, it would seem as if they had received, in more ancient times, several institutions from the Egyptians, with whom, I have no doubt, they maintained an intercourse, by means of the energetic inhabitants of Aújila[112], from a relatively ancient period; and among these institutions I feel justified in reckoning the great care which the Songhay bestowed upon their dead. We see that even those among their kings who died in the very remotest part of the empire were transported with the greatest trouble to the capital, in order to be buried there with due ceremony. For instance, Sonni ʿAlí had died in Gurma; but his sons, who accompanied him on the expedition, took out his entrails, and filled his inside with honey, in order that it might be preserved from putrefaction.[113] The remains of Áskía Dáúd were transported all the way from Tindírma to Gágho in a boat. Even in the case of the slaughter of distinguished enemies, we find strict orders given to perform towards them the ceremonies usual with the dead.
The attention thus bestowed upon the dead seems not to have been in consequence of the introduction of Islám, but appears rather to have been traditionally handed down from the remotest antiquity. Nevertheless, it is clear that the adoption of Islám exercised considerable influence upon the civilisation of these people, and we even find a Medreseh mentioned in Gágho[114], an establishment the institution of which we have probably to assign to El Háj Mohammed, who, while on his pilgrimage to Mekka, solicited the advice of the most learned men in Egypt, and especially that of the sheikh Jelál e’ dín e’ Soyúti, as to the best method of propagating the Mohammedan religion in his own country.
The influence of learning and study, even in the royal family, is apparent enough from the example of the pretender Mohammed Bánkorí[115], who, when on his march to Gágho, ready to fight the king El Háj Áskía, was induced by the kádhi of Timbúktu, whom he by chance visited, to give up his ambitious designs for a quiet course of study, to the great astonishment and disappointment of his army, who expected to be led by him, in a bloody contest, to power and wealth. Áhmed Bábá himself, the author of the history of Songhay, who gives a long list of learned natives of Negroland, may serve as a fair specimen of the learning in Timbúktu at that time. He had a library of 1600 books.
A great deal of commerce was carried on in Songhay during the dominion of the Áskías, especially in the towns of Gágho and Kúkiya; the latter being, as it appears, the especial market for gold as early as the latter half of the eleventh century. Salt, too, was the staple commodity, while shells already at that time constituted the general currency of the market; not, however, the same kind of shells that are used at present, but a different sort which were introduced from Persia; and there is no doubt that, even at that time, almost all the luxuries of the Arabs found their way into this part of Negroland. That Timbúktu also, since the decline of Bíru or Waláta, in the latter part of the fifteenth century, formed an important place for foreign commerce, is evident from the fact that the merchants of Ghadámes, even at the taking of the town by the Bashá Jódar, inhabited the same quarter as at the present day.
We also see, from Leo’s account[116], that the king of Songhay was obliged to spend a great proportion of his revenue in the purchase of horses from Barbary, by means of which he improved the native breed, as we have seen was the case in Bórnu, cavalry constituting the principal military strength of countries in the state of civilisation which prevails in Negroland. We also find coats of mail mentioned, as well as brass helmets, but no allusion is made to even a single musketeer, nor is the use of any firearms intimated by Áhmed Bábá, although he distinctly describes several engagements, and even single combats. It was this circumstance which secured to the small army sent by the Emperor of Morocco, a superiority which could not be contested by any numbers which the last Áskía, ruling over a kingdom of vast extent but undermined by intrigues and civil war, was able to oppose to it; and we must not conclude, from this circumstance, that an army of 4000 men was a great thing at that time in point of numbers, for the kings of Negroland, at least those of Songhay and Bórnu, at that period, were able to raise greater armies than any of the present kings of those regions could bring together, and we hear of an army of 140,000 men.
The circumstance of the kings of Songhay not having procured at that time—the end of the sixteenth century of our era—even the smallest number of firearms, is remarkable, if we compare with it the fact which I have dwelt upon in its proper place[117], that Edrís Álawóma, the king of Bórnu who ruled in the latter part of the sixteenth century, possessed a considerable number of muskets. The cannon which was found among the Songhay when they were conquered by the Moroccains had, I have no doubt, formed part of the present which the Portuguese had forwarded to Áskía Músa, as we shall further see in detail in the chronological tables; but the fact of the enemy having found this piece of ordnance among the spoil of the capital, and not in the thick of the battle, sufficiently proves that the Songhay did not know how to use it. As for the matchlocks, which even at the present day are preserved in Gágho, and of which, by some accident, I did not obtain a sight, they belonged originally to the very conquerors from Morocco, who afterwards, as Rumá, formed a stationary garrison, and even a certain aristocratical body, in all the chief towns of the kingdom.
Side by side with a certain degree of civilisation, no doubt, many barbarous customs were retained, such as the use of the lash, which in other parts of Negroland we find rarely employed, except in the case of slaves, but which, in Songhay, we see made use of constantly, even in the case of persons of the highest rank; and instances occur, as in that of the instigator of the revolt of El Hádi, under the king El Háj, of persons being flogged to death.[118]
It is certainly a memorable fact, of which people in Europe had scarcely any idea, that a ruler of Morocco, at the time when Spain had attained its highest degree of power under Philip II., and was filled with precious metals, should open an access to an extensive and rich country, from whence to procure himself an unlimited supply of gold, to the surprise of all the potentates of Europe. It is, moreover, a very remarkable circumstance, that the soldiery by means of which Múláy Hámed subdued that far-distant kingdom, and who were left as a garrison in the conquered towns, intermarrying with the females of the country, in the same way as the Portuguese did in India, managed to rule those extensive regions by themselves, even long after they had ceased to acknowledge the supremacy of the Emperor of Morocco, whose soldiers these Rumá originally had been, Rumá or Ermá being the plural form of Rámi, “shooter” or “sharpshooter;” and although they appear never to have formed a compact body ruled by a single individual, but rather a number of small aristocratic communities, the Rumá in Timbúktu having scarcely any connection with those in Bághena, nay, probably not even with those in Bamba and Gágho, yet superior discipline enabled them to keep their place. The nationality of these Rumá puzzled me a long time, while I was collecting information on these regions in the countries farther eastward; and they have lately attracted the attention of the French traveller Raffenel[119], during his journey to Kaárta, when he learnt so much about a people, whom he calls “Arama,” that he supposed them to be a distinct tribe, although the vocabulary which he collected of their idiom, shows it to be nothing but a slight variety of the Songhay language. However, it is clear, that under such circumstances the dominion exercised by this set of half-castes could not but be of a very precarious character; and after a protracted struggle with the smaller tribes around, they have been entirely crushed by the Tawárek, and in most of the towns of Songhay form at present an integral part of the degraded native population, although they have preserved their name of Rumá, or, as the name is generally pronounced, Rummá, and still claim a sort of moral ascendancy.
It will be seen from the preceding sketch, and become still more apparent from the chronological tables at the end of the volume, that Timbúktu has rather unjustly figured in Europe as the centre and the capital of a great Negro empire, while it never acted more than a secondary part, at least in earlier times; and this character evidently appears from the narrative of Ebn Batúta’s journey, in the middle of the fourteenth century. But on account of Timbúktu becoming the seat of Mohammedan learning and Mohammedan worship, and owing to the noble character of its buildings, well deserving to rank as a city or “medína,” a title which the capital itself perhaps never deserved, it always enjoyed great respect, even during the flourishing period of the latter; and after Gágho or Gógó had relapsed into insignificance, in consequence of the conquest by the Rumá at the end of the sixteenth century, Timbúktu, on account of its greater proximity to Morocco, became the more important place, where gradually the little commerce which still remained in that distracted region of the Niger was concentrated. But, nevertheless, during the age of anarchy which succeeded to the conquest of the country by the Rumá, and owing to the oppression from the Tawárek tribes on the one side, and the Bámbara and Fúlbe on the other, the state of affairs could not be very settled; and the town, shaken as it was to its very base by that fearful struggle of the inhabitants with the Kádhi Mústapha, with massacre, rapine, and conflagration following in its train, could not but decline greatly from its former splendour; yet under the alternately predominating influence of paganism, represented most strongly by the warlike tribe of the Bámbara, and of Mohammedanism represented by the Arab tribes[120], it struggled on, till in consequence of its being conquered by the Fúlbe of Másina, in the year 1826, a few months before the unfortunate Major Laing succeeded in reaching the town, it was threatened with the loss of all its commerce. For these people, owing to the impulse given to Mohammedanism in this part of Negroland by their countryman ʿOthmán dan Fódiye[121], had become far more fanatical champions of the faith than the Arabs and Moors; and treating the inhabitants of the newly conquered city, as well as the foreigners who used to visit it, with extreme rigour, according to the prejudices which they had imbibed, they could not fail to ruin almost the whole commercial activity of the place. Their oppression was not confined to the pagan traders, the Wangaráwa, who carry on almost the whole commerce with the countries south of the Niger, but extended even to the Mohammedan merchants from the north, especially the traders from Tawát and Ghadámes, against whom the Morocco merchants, instigated by a feeling of petty rivalry, succeeded in directing their rancour. It was in consequence of this oppression, especially after a further increase of the Fúlbe party in the year 1831, that the Ghadámsíye people induced the Sheikh el Mukhtár, the elder brother of El Bakáy, and successor of Sídi Mohammed, to remove his residence from the hille, or hillet e’ sheikh el Mukhtár, in Ázawád, half a day’s journey from the well Bel Mehán to Timbúktu. Thus we find in this distracted place a third power stepping in between the Fúlbe on the one side and the Tawárek on the other, and using the power of the latter as far as their want of centralisation allowed, against the overbearing character of the former. In consequence of this continued collision, the Tawárek drove the Fúlbe completely out of the town, about the year 1844, when a battle was fought on the banks of the river, in which a great number of the latter were either slain or drowned. But the victory of the Tawárek was of no avail, and only plunged the distracted town into greater misery; for, owing to its peculiar situation on the border of a desert tract, Timbúktu cannot rely upon its own resources, but must always be dependent upon those who rule the more fertile tracts higher up the river; and the ruler of Másina had only to forbid the exportation of corn from his dominions to reduce the inhabitants of Timbúktu to the utmost distress. A compromise was therefore agreed to in the year 1846, through the mediation of the Sheikh el Bakáy, between the different parties, to the effect that Timbúktu should be dependent on the Fúlbe without being garrisoned by a military force, the tribute being collected by two kádhis, one Púllo, and the other Songhay, who should themselves decide all cases of minor importance, the more important ones being referred to the capital. But, nevertheless, the government of the town, or rather the police, as far as it goes, is in the hands of one or two Songhay mayors, with the title of emír, but who have scarcely any effective power, placed as they are between the Fúlbe on the one side and the Tawárek on the other, and holding their ground against the former through the two kádhis, and against the latter by means of the Sheikh el Bakáy. Such is the distracted state of this town, which cannot be remedied before a strong and intelligent power is again established on this upper course of the Niger, so eminently favourable for commerce.
After these general remarks on the character of the history of Songhay, I proceed to give a diary of my stay in Timbúktu.