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CHAP. LXVIII.

FIRST RESIDENCE IN THE DESERT. — POLITICAL COMBINATIONS. — GREAT MOSQUE. — GROUND-PLAN OF THE TOWN.

October 11th.This was an important moment for myself, as, with the exception of an occasional visit to the Sheikh, who lived only a few yards across the street, and an almost daily promenade on my terrace, I had not moved about since my arrival. With a deep consciousness of the critical position in which I was placed, I followed my protector, who, mounted on his favourite white mare, led the way through the streets of the town, along which the assembled natives were thronging in order to get a glance at me. Leaving the high mounds of rubbish which constitute the groundwork of the northern part of the town on our left, and pursuing a north-north-easterly direction over a sandy tract covered with stunted bushes, and making only a short halt near a well five miles from the town, for the purpose of watering our horses, after a march of two miles more we reached the camp, which could easily be recognised at a great distance by two large white cotton tents, whose size and situation made them conspicuous above some smaller leathern dwellings. It was just about sunset; and the open country with its rich mimosas, and with the camp on the rising ground, the white sandy soil of which was illumined by the last rays of the setting sun, presented an interesting spectacle. The younger inhabitants of the camp, including Bábá Ahmed and ʿAbidín, two favourite boys of the Sheikh, one five, the other four years of age, came out to meet us; and I soon afterwards found myself lodged in an indigenous tent of camel’s hair, which was pitched at the foot of the hill, belonging to Mohammed el Khalíl, a relative of the Sheikh, who had come from his native home in Tíris, on the shores of the Atlantic, in order to share his uncle’s blessing.

In this encampment we passed several days in the most quiet and retired manner, when my friend revealed to me his course of action. It was his intention, he said, to bring the old chief Galaijo, from the place of his exile in Champagóre, back to this part of Negroland, which he had formerly ruled, and to reinstate him, by the aid of the Tawárek, in the government of Másina with the residence Hamda-Alláhi, of which he was to deprive the family of Lebbo. But even if it was true, as he said, that the Fúlbe themselves, as well those settled between Fermágha and Gúndam, as those inhabiting the provinces of Dalla, Dwenza, and Gilgóji, were opposed to the government of Lebbo, such a project appeared to me to require a greater share of perseverance and determination than, from all that I had seen, I could believe my noble friend possessed. However, he entertained no doubt at that time that Alkúttabu, the great chief of the Tawárek himself, would come to his aid without delay and conduct me, under his powerful protection, safely along the banks of the Niger.

However exaggerated the projects of my protector were, considering his mild disposition, and although by exasperating the Fúlbe more and more he no doubt increased the difficulties of my situation, the moving of his encampment outside the town afforded me a great deal of relief, both in consequence of the change of air which it procured me, and of the varied scenery. I could also get here a little exercise, although the more open the country was, the greater care I had to take of my safety. In the morning, particularly, the camp presented a very animated sight. The two large white tents of cotton cloth, with their top-covering, or “sarámme,” of chequered design, and their woollen curtains of various colours, were half opened to allow the morning air to pervade them. The other smaller ones were grouped picturesquely around on the slope, which was enlivened by camels, cattle, and goats, that were just being driven out. All nature was awake and full of bustle, and the trees were swarming with white pigeons. In the evening, again, there were the cattle returning from their pasturage, the slaves bringing water on the backs of the asses, and the people grouped together in the simple place of devotion, laid out with thorny bushes, in order to say their prayers, guided by the melodious voice of their teacher, who never failed to join them. At this time a chapter of the Kurán was chanted by the best instructed of the pupils, and continued often till a late hour at night, the sound of these beautiful verses, in their melodious fall, reverberating from the downs around; at other times animated conversation ensued, and numerous groups gathered on the open ground by the side of the fire.

We returned into the town on the 13th. The first day had passed off rather quietly, save that a party of twelve Imóshagh, of the tribe of the Igwádaren, partly mounted on camels, partly on horses, trespassed on the hospitality of the Sheikh. I had an opportunity of inspecting their swords, and was not a little surprised at finding that they were all manufactured in the German town of Solingen, as indeed were almost all the swords of these Tawárek, or Imóshagh.

The interests of the different members of the family now began to clash. The Sheikh himself was firm in his opposition against the Fúlbe, and requested me in future, when I visited him, to come to his house fully armed, in order to show our adversaries that I was ready to repulse any violence; and it was in vain that I protested that, as I came with peaceable intentions, nothing could be farther from my wish than to cause any disturbance in the town. Meanwhile his brother, Sídi Alawáte, suborned one of the Sheikh’s pupils to make another attempt to convert me to Islamism. This man, who was one of the most learned followers of the Sheikh, having resided for nearly thirty years in the family, first with the Sheikh Sídi Mohammed, then with his eldest son El Mukhtár, who succeeded him in the dignity of a Sheikh during Major Laing’s residence in Ázawád, and finally with the Sheikh el Bakáy himself, originally belonged to the Arab tribe of the Welád Ráshid, whose settlements in Wádáy I have mentioned on a former occasion. Partly on this account, partly on account of his great religious knowledge, and his volubility of speech, he possessed great influence with all the people, although his prudence and forbearance were not conspicuous. But finding that his usual arguments in favour of his creed did not avail with me, he soon desisted. This was the last time these people attempted to make me a proselyte to their religion, with the exception of some occasional serious advice from my friends under the temporary pressure of political difficulties.

The emír of the place, of the name of Kaúri, who was a good-natured man, and whose colleague, Belle, was absent at the time, having advised my protector to take me again out of the town for a few days, till the kádhi Áhmed Weled Fʿaamme, who was going to Hamda-Alláhi, and who was especially hostilely disposed towards me, should have left, we again set out, on the morning of the 17th October; but, having stayed in the encampment that night and the following morning, we returned to the town the same afternoon, but left again on the morning of the 20th, when the kafla of the Tawátíye was ready to set out on their journey to the north, and stayed with them during the heat of the day. They were encamped in about twenty-four small leathern tents, round the well where we had a few days previously watered our horses, and mustered more than fifty muskets, each of them being armed, moreover, with a spear and sword; but notwithstanding their numbers, and the circumstance that a rather respectable man, of the name of Háj Áhmed, the wealthiest person of Insála or ʿAín-Sála, was among them, and was to accompany them as far as Mʿamún, I felt no inclination to go with this caravan, and thus to deprive myself of the opportunity of surveying the river, nor did my protector himself seem to find in this northerly road any sufficient guarantee for my safe return home. I therefore only made use of this opportunity in order to send to Europe, by way of Ghadámes, a short report of my arrival in Timbúktu, and a general outline of the political circumstances connected with my stay in the city.

The caravan having started the following morning, we stayed two days longer in the camp, and then once more returned into the town, without any further difficulty, in the company of Sídi Álawáte, who had come out to join us with a body of armed followers, and who behaved now, on the whole, much more amiably towards me. He even gave me some interesting particulars with respect to Ségo[129], which place he had visited some time before, levying upon Dembo, then king of Bámbara, a heavy contribution of gold. This king who was sprung from a Púllo mother, had succeeded his father Farma, the son of the king mentioned by Mungo Park under the name of Mansong, two years previously.[130]

The Fúlbe, however, did not give up their point, and, as they did not find themselves strong enough to proceed to open violence, made an indirect attack upon me by putting in irons on the 27th some Arabs or Moors, on the pretext of having neglected their prayers, thereby protesting strongly enough against a person of an entirely different creed staying in the town. The emír Kaúri himself, who, on the whole, seemed to be a man of good sense, was in a most awkward position; and when the kádhi informed him, that, if he was not able to execute the order which he had received from his liege lord, he should solicit the assistance of the people of Timbúktu, he refused to have recourse to violence till he had received stricter orders to that effect and more effectual aid; for, in the event of his having driven me out, and anything having befallen me, the whole blame would be thrown upon him, as had been the case with Sídi Bú-Bakr the governor, who, obeying the orders of Mohammed Lebbo, had obliged the Ráís (Major Laing) to leave the town, and thus, in some measure was the cause of his death, that distinguished traveller having thrown himself in despair into the arms of Hámed Weled ʿAbéda, the chief of the Berabísh, who murdered him in the desert.

But, on the other hand, the emír endeavoured to dissuade my protector, who was about to send a messenger to Alkúttabu[131], the great chief of the Awelímmiden, to summon him to his assistance, from carrying out his intention, fearing lest the result of this proceeding might be a serious conflict between the Tawárek and the Fúlbe. However, from all that I saw, I became aware that the chance of my departure was more remote than ever, and that, at least this year, there was very little prospect of my leaving this place; for the messenger whom the Sheikh was to send to the Tárki chief, and of whose departure there had been much talk for so long a time, had not yet left, and the chief’s residence was several hundred miles off. I therefore again protested to my friend that it was my earnest desire to set out on my home journey as soon as possible, and that I felt not a little annoyed at the continual procrastination.

Several circumstances concurred at this time to make me feel the delay the more deeply, so that notwithstanding my sincere esteem for my protector, I thought it better, when he again left the town in the evening of the 27th, to remain where I was; for after my return from our last excursion, in consequence of the severe cold during the night, I had been visited by a serious attack of rheumatism, which had rendered me quite lame for a day or two.

With regard to the means of my departure, the Waláti, whom I had sent out at a great expense to bring my horses and camels from the other side of the river, had brought back my horses in the most emaciated condition. As for the camels, he had intended to appropriate them to his own use; but I defeated his scheme by making a present of them to the Sheikh. This brought all the Waláti’s other intrigues to light, especially the circumstance of his having presented a small pistol (which I had given to himself) to Hammádi, the Sheikh’s rival, intimating that it came from me, and thus endangering my whole position, by making the Sheikh believe that I was giving presents to his rivals and his enemies. But my protector acted nobly on this occasion; for he not only warned me against the intrigues of the Waláti, and would not lend an ear to his numerous calumnies against me, but he even preferred me, the Christian, to my Mohammedan companion, the Méjebrí, ʿAlí el Ágeren, who was sometimes led, through fear, to take the part of the Waláti; and the Méjebrí, who thought himself almost a sheríf, and was murmuring his prayers the whole evening long, felt not a little hurt and excited when he found that the Sheikh placed infinitely more reliance upon me than upon himself.

In order to convince the Sheikh how sensible I was of the confidence which he placed in me, I made a present of a blue cloth kaftan to Mohammed Boy, the son of the chief Galaijo, who had studied with him for a year or two, and was now about to return home by way of Hamda-Alláhi. But, unluckily, I had not many such presents to offer, and a nobleman of the name of Muláy ʿAbd e’ Salám, who had sent me a hospitable present of wheat and rice, was greatly offended at not receiving from me a bernús in return.

Meanwhile the Fúlbe, or Fullán, sent orders to Dár e’ Salám, the capital of the district of Zánkara, that their countrymen inhabiting that province should enter Timbúktu as soon as the Sheikh should leave it. The latter, in order to show these people the influence he possessed, decided upon taking me with him on an excursion to Kábara, which is the harbour on the river, where the Fúlbe were generally acknowledged to possess greater power than in Timbúktu, on account of the distance of the latter from the water. I followed him gladly, that I might have an opportunity of observing the different aspect of the country two months after the date when I had first traversed it. In fact the landscape had now a very different appearance, being entirely changed in consequence of the abundant rains which had fallen in September and October. The whole sandy level, which before looked so dull and dreary, was now covered with herbage; while that part of the road nearer the town had been a little cleared of wood, apparently in order to prevent the Tawárek from lurking near the road and surprising travellers. Further on, when we approached the village of Kábara, all the fields were overgrown with water-melons, which form a considerable branch of the industry of the inhabitants.

We dismounted, at length, close to Kábara, in the shade of a talha tree, clearing the ground and making ourselves as comfortable as possible. A great number of people collected round us, not only from the village of Kábara, but also from the town; even the governor, or emír, Kaúri, came out to see what we were doing here.

By way of making some sort of popular display, and showing his enemies the extent of his authority, my protector here distributed the presents which he had destined for Boy and his companions, who, before returning to their home in the province of Galaijo, were first going to pay their compliments to the sheikho Áhmedu in Hamda-Alláhi. He also sent the very bernús which I had intended for ʿAbd e’ Salám to ʿAbd Alláhi[132], the uncle of the young sheikho Áhmedu of Hamda-Alláhi. While the emír walked up and down, at some distance from the spot where we had taken up our position, in order to have a look at me, we were treated hospitably by the inspector of the harbour (a cheerful old man of the name of ʿAbd el Kásim, and of supposed sheríf origin), with several dishes of excellent kuskus, one of which fell to my share: and I was delighted to see that, notwithstanding the decline of everything in this distracted region, the old office of an inspector of the harbour still retained a certain degree of importance. But I lamented that I was not allowed to survey at my leisure the general features of the locality, which had entirely changed since my first visit to this place. The river had inundated the whole of the lowlands, so that the water, which had before only formed a narrow ditch-like channel, now presented a wide open sheet, affording easy access to the native craft of all sizes.

Having then mounted in the afternoon, after a pleasant ride we reached the town; but instead of directly entering the dilapidated walls, we turned off a little to the west, towards a small plantation of date trees (marked ⁹ in the plan of the town), of the existence of which I had had no previous idea; for small and insignificant as it was, it claimed considerable interest in this arid tract, there being at present only four or five middle-sized trees, rather poor specimens of the hájilíj, or balanites, inside the town; although we know that before the time of the conquest of Songhay by the Moroccains, the city was not so poor in vegetation; but the inspector of the harbour having fled on that occasion with the whole fleet, the bashá Mahmúd cut down all the trees in and around the town for the purpose of ship-building.

The little oasis consisted of three nearly full-grown date-trees, but of small size, only one of them bearing fruit, while around there were about ten very young bushes, which, if not well taken care of, scarcely seemed to promise ever to become of any value. The plantation, poor as it was, owed its existence to the neighbourhood of a deep well, of immense size, being about thirty yards in diameter and five fathoms deep, wherein the water collects.

Having loitered here a few moments, and visited a small and poor plantation in the neighbourhood belonging to the Tawáti, Mohammed el ʿAísh, we turned off towards the Jíngeré-bér, or “great mosque,” which by its stately appearance made a deep impression upon my mind, as I had not yet had an opportunity of inspecting it closely. It was here especially that I convinced myself, not only of the trustworthy character of Caillié’s report in general, of which I had already had an opportunity of judging, but also of the accuracy with which, under the very unfavourable circumstances in which he was placed, he has described the various objects which fell under his observation. I was only permitted to survey the outside of the mosque; as to the interior, I was obliged to rely upon the information which I received from the more intelligent of the natives.

The mosque is a large building, but a considerable portion of it is occupied by an open courtyard, wherein the larger tower is enclosed, while the principal part of the building includes nine naves, of different dimensions and structure; the westernmost portion, which consists of three naves, belonging evidently to the old mosque, which, together with the palace, was built by Mansa Músa, the king of Melle, as is even attested by an inscription over the principal gate, although it has become somewhat illegible. The chief error which Caillié has committed in describing this mosque relates to the smaller tower, the position of which he has mistaken, and the number of gateways on the eastern side, there being seven instead of five. Caillié also states the greatest length of the building to be 104 paces; while my intelligent friend Mohammed ben ʿAísh assured me that, after measuring it with the greatest accuracy, he found it to be 262 French feet in length, by 194 in width.[133]

If this building, which stands just at the western extremity, and forms the south-western corner of the town, were situated in the centre, it would be infinitely more imposing; but it is evident that in former times the mosque was surrounded by buildings on the western side. The city formerly was twice as large.

While we were surveying this noble pile, numbers of people collected round us,—this being the quarter inhabited principally by the Fúlbe, or Fullán,—and when we turned our steps homewards, they followed us along the streets through the market, which was now empty, but without making the least hostile manifestation. On the contrary, many of them gave me their hands.

Soon after my arrival in the place, I had sent home a small plan of the town. This I now found to be inaccurate in some respects; and I here therefore subjoin a more correct plan of the town, although on a rather small scale,—the circumstances under which I resided there not having allowed me to survey the greater part of it accurately enough for a more minute delineation.

The city of Timbúktu, according to Dr. Petermann’s laying down of it from my materials, lies in 17° 37′ N. and 3° 5′ W. of Greenwich. Situated only a few feet above the average level of the river, and at a distance of about six miles from the principal branch, it at present forms a sort of triangle, the base of which points towards the river, whilst the projecting angle is directed towards the north, having for its centre the mosque of Sánkoré. But, during the zenith of its power, the town extended a thousand yards further north, and included the tomb of the fáki Mahmúd, which, according to some of my informants, was then situated in the midst of the town.

The circumference of the city at the present time I reckon at a little more than two miles and a half; but it may approach closely to three miles, taking into account some of the projecting angles. Although of only small size, Timbúktu may well be called a city—medína—in comparison with the frail dwelling-places all over Negroland. At present it is not walled. Its former wall, which seems never to have been of great magnitude, and was rather more of the nature of a rampart, was destroyed by the Fúlbe on their first entering the place in the beginning of the year 1826. The town is laid out partly in rectangular, partly in winding, streets, or, as they are called here, “tijeráten,” which are not paved, but for the greater part consist of hard sand and gravel, and some of them have a sort of gutter in the middle. Besides the large and the small market there are few open areas, except a small square in front of the mosque of Yáhia, called Túmbutu-bóttema.

Small as it is, the city is tolerably well inhabited, and almost all the houses are in good repair. There are about 980 clay houses, and a couple of hundred conical huts of matting, the latter, with a few exceptions, constituting the outskirts of the town on the north and north-east sides, where a great deal of rubbish, which has been accumulating in the course of several centuries, is formed into conspicuous mounds. The clay houses are all of them built on the same principle as my own residence, which I have described, with the exception that the houses of the poorer people have only one courtyard, and have no upper room on the terrace.

The only remarkable public buildings in the town are the three large mosques: the Jíngeré-bér, built by Mansa Músa; the mosque of Sánkoré, built, at an early period, at the expense of a wealthy woman; and the mosque Sídi Yáhia, built at the expense of a kádhi of the town. There were three other mosques: that of Sídi Háj Mohammed, Msíd Belál, and that of Sídi el Bámi. These mosques, and perhaps some little msíd, or place of prayer, Caillié must have included when he speaks[134] of seven mosques. Besides these mosques, there are at present no distinguished public buildings in the town; and of the royal palace, or Mʿa-dugu, wherein the kings of Songhay used to reside occasionally, as well as the Kasbah, which was built in later times, in the south-eastern quarter, or the “Sane-gungu”[135], which already at that time was inhabited by the merchants from Ghadámes[136], not a trace is to be seen. Besides this quarter, which is the wealthiest, and contains the best houses, there are six other quarters, viz. Yúbu, the quarter comprising the great market-place (yúbu) and the mosque of Sídi Yáhia, to the west of Sane-gungu; and west of the former, forming the south-western angle of the town, and called from the great mosque, Jíngeré-bér or Zángeré-bér. This latter quarter, from the most ancient times, seems to have been inhabited especially by Mohammedans, and not unlikely may have formed a distinct quarter, separated from the rest of the town by a wall of its own. Towards the north, the quarter Sane-gungu is bordered by the one called Sara-káina, meaning literally the “little town,” and containing the residence of the Sheikh, and the house where I myself was lodged. Attached to Sara-káina, towards the north, is Yúbu-káina, the quarter containing the “little market,” which is especially used as a butchers’ market. Bordering both on Jíngeré-bér and Yúbu-káina, is the quarter Bagíndi, occupying the lowest situation in the town, and stated by the inhabitants to have been flooded entirely in the great inundation which took place in 1640. From this depression in the ground, the quarter of Sánkoré, which forms the northernmost angle of the city, rises to a considerable elevation, in such a manner, that the mosque of Sánkoré, which seems to occupy its ancient site and level, is at present situated in a deep hollow—an appearance which seems to prove that this elevation of the ground is caused by the accumulation of rubbish, in consequence of the repeated ruin which seems to have befallen this quarter pre-eminently, as being the chief stronghold of the native Songhay. The slope which this quarter forms towards the north-eastern end, in some spots exceeds eighty feet.

The whole number of the settled inhabitants of the town amounts to about 13,000; while the floating population, during the months of the greatest traffic and intercourse, especially from November to January, may amount, on an average, to 5000, and under favourable circumstances to as many as 10,000. Of the different elements composing this population, and of their distinguishing features, I shall say a few words in another place. I now revert to the diary of my own proceedings.

In the evening of the next day I again went with the Sheikh out of the town to the tents, where we were to stay two days, but where we in fact spent six; my friend finding himself very happy in the company of his wife, to whom he was sincerely attached. Not only my companions, but even I myself, began to find it rather tedious in the dull encampment, as I had scarcely any books with me to pass away my time, and my situation not allowing me to enter too closely into the discussions of my companions, as in that case they would have redoubled their endeavours to convert me to their creed, and would scarcely have allowed me to depart at all.

Almost the whole of the time which I spent here the Sheikh left me quite to myself, sometimes not quitting his tent for a whole day; but at other times we had some pleasant and instructive conversation. Among other subjects a rather animated discussion arose one day. An Arab, of the name of ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, a near relation of my host, and of a rather presumptuous character, who had come on a visit from Ázawád, was extremely anxious to know the motives which induced me to visit this country, and scarcely doubted that it could be anything else than the desire of conquest. In order to show them of what little value the possession of the country would be to the Europeans, I jestingly told them, that our government, being informed that the natives of these tracts fed on sand and clay, had sent me out to discover how this was done, in order to provide, in a similar way, for the poor in our own country. The Arab was naturally greatly surprised at my statement. But the Sheikh himself laughed very heartily, and inquired, with an expression of doubt, whether there were poor people among the Christians.

Another evening, when the Sheikh was cheerfully sitting with us round the fire, we had an interesting conversation concerning the worship of idols. In order to overcome the prejudice of his pupils with regard to the greater nobility and superiority of the Arab race, and to show them that their forefathers had not been much better than many of the idolatrous nations at the present day, he gave them an account of the superstitions of the ancient Arabs, and in the course of his conversation exhibited unmistakable proofs of an enlightened and elevated mind, of which the letter, which I shall communicate in another place, will give further proof.

Occasionally we received here also some interesting visits from Arabs or other people; the most conspicuous person among them being a man of the name of Fífi, the inspector of the harbour of Yówaru, a man of cheerful temperament, and a great friend of the Sheikh’s. He had a perfect knowledge of the course of the river between Timbúktu and Jafarábe, the groups of islands forming the boundary between the Mohammedan kingdom of Másina and the Pagan kingdom of Bámbara, and very important for the trade along the river, as the boats coming from Timbúktu must here discharge their merchandise, which has to be conveyed hence to Sansándi on the backs of asses; but unfortunately my informant spoke nothing but Songhay. The state of retirement in which I was obliged to live deprived me of the opportunity of cultivating the language of the natives; which was moreover extremely repulsive to me on account of its deficiency in forms and words, so that I found it next to impossible to express in it any general idea, without having recourse to some other foreign language. The Songhay of this region, having been deprived of all their former independent character more than two centuries and a half ago, and having become degraded and subject to foreigners, have lost also the national spirit of their idiom, which, instead of developing itself, has become gradually poorer and more limited; but I have no doubt that the dialect spoken by those still independent people in Dargol and Kulman is far richer, and anybody who wishes to study the Songhay language must study it there. The Arab visitors[137] to the town at this period were especially numerous, this being the most favourable season for the salt trade. A few months later scarcely a single Arab from abroad frequents the town.

The private life of the people in these encampments runs on very tranquilly, when there is no predatory incursion, which however is often enough the case. Most of these mixed Arabs have only one wife at a time, and they seem to lead a quiet domestic life, very like that of the Sheikh himself. I scarcely imagine that there is in Europe a person more sincerely attached to his wife and children than my host was. In fact, it might be said that he was a little too dependent on the will of his wife. The difference which I found between the position of the wife among these Moorish tribes, and that which she enjoys among the Tawárek, is extraordinary, although even the Tawárek have generally but one wife; but while the latter is allowed to move about at her pleasure quite unveiled, the wife even of the poorest Arab or Moor is never seen unveiled, being generally clad in a black under and upper gown, and the wives of the richer and nobler people never leave their tents. The camp life of course would give to coquettish women a fair opportunity of intrigue; but in general I think their morals are pretty chaste, and the chastisement which awaits any transgression is severe, a married wife convicted of adultery being sure to be stoned. An incident happened during my present stay at the tents which gave proof of love affairs not being quite unusual here,—a Tárki, or rather Ámghi, having been murdered from motives of jealousy, and brought into our camp. But I must confess that I can scarcely speak of the mode of life in an Arab or Moorish encampment; for the camp of the Sheikh, as a chief of religion, is of course quite an exception; and moreover the neighbourhood of the Fúlbe or Fullán, who, in their austere religious creed, view all amusements with a suspicious eye, has entirely changed the character of these Moorish camps around the town, and it may be in consequence of this influence that there was no dancing or singing here.

Notwithstanding trifling incidents like these, which tended occasionally to alleviate the tediousness of our stay, I was deeply afflicted by the immense delay and loss of time, and did not allow an opportunity to pass by of urging my protector to hasten our departure; and he promised me that, as I was not looking for property, he should not keep me long. But, nevertheless, his slow and deliberate character could not be overcome, and it was not until the arrival of another messenger from Hamda-Alláhi, with a fresh order to the Sheikh to deliver me into his hands, that he was induced to return into the town.

My situation in this turbulent place now approached a serious crisis; but, through the care which my friends took of me, I was not allowed to become fully aware of the danger I was in. The Sheikh himself was greatly excited, but came to no decision with regard to the measures to be taken; and at times he did not see any safety for me except by my taking refuge with the Tawárek, and placing myself entirely under their protection. But as for myself I remained quiet, although my spirits were far from being buoyant; especially as, during this time, I suffered severely from rheumatism; and I had become so tired of this stay outside in the tents, where I was not able to write, that, when the Sheikh went out again in the evening of the 16th, I begged him to let me remain where I was. Being anxious about my safety, he returned the following evening. However, on the 22nd, I was obliged to accompany him on another visit to the tents, which had now been pitched in a different place, on a bleak sandy eminence, about five miles east from the town, but this time he kept his promise of not staying more than twenty-four hours. It was at this encampment that I saw again the last four of my camels, which at length, after innumerable delays, and with immense expense, had been brought from beyond the river, but they were in a miserable condition, and furnished another excuse to my friends for putting off my departure, the animals being scarcely fit to undertake a journey.

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CHAP. LXIX.

POLITICAL STATE OF THE COUNTRY. — DANGEROUS CRISIS.

In the meantime, while I was thus warding off a decisive blow from my enemies, the political horizon of these extensive regions became rather more turbulent than usual; and war and feud raged in every quarter. Towards the north the communication with Morocco was quite interrupted, the tribe of the Tájakánt, who almost exclusively keep up that communication, being engaged in civil war, which had arisen in this way. A “Jakáni”[138] called ʿAbd Allah Weled Mulúd, and belonging to that section of their tribe which is called Drʿawa, had slain a chief of the Érgebát who had come to sue for peace, and had been killed in his turn by the chief of his own tribe, a respectable and straightforward man of the name of Mohammed El Mukhtár Merábet. Thus, two factions having arisen, one consisting of the Újarát and the Áhel e’ Sherk, and the other being formed by the Drʿawa and their allies, a sanguinary war was carried on. But notwithstanding the unfavourable state of this quarter, which is so important for the wellbeing of the town, on account of its intercourse with the north, the Sheikh, who was always anxious to establish peaceable intercourse, repeatedly told me that although he regarded the road along the river, under the protection of the Tawárek, as the safest for myself, he should endeavour to open the northern road for future travellers from Merákesh, or Morocco, by way of Tafilélet, and that he should make an arrangement to this effect with the Áʿaríb and Tájakánt, though there is no doubt that it was the Áʿaríb who killed Mr. Davidson, a few days after he had set out from Wádí Nún in the company of the Tájakánt. There was just at the time a man of authority, of the name of Hámed Weled e’ Síd, belonging to this tribe, present in the town. On one occasion he came to pay me a visit, girt with his long bowie knife. I had however not much confidence in these northern Moors; and seeing him advance through my court-yard in company with another man, I started up from my couch and met him halfway; and although he behaved with some discretion, and even wanted to clear his countrymen from the imputation of having murdered the above-mentioned traveller, I thought it more prudent to beg him to keep at a respectful distance.

Just at this time a large foray was undertaken by a troop of 400 Awelímmiden against the Hogár, but it returned almost empty-handed, and with the loss of one of their principal men. Towards the south, the enterprising chief El Khadír, whom I have mentioned on a former occasion, was pushing strenuously forward against his inveterate enemies the Fúlbe, or Fullán, although the report which we heard at this time, of his having taken the town of Hómbori, was not subsequently confirmed. But, on the whole, the fact of this Berber tribe pushing always on into the heart of Negroland, is very remarkable; and there is no doubt that if a great check had not been given them by the Fúlbe, they would have overpowered ere this the greater part of the region north of 13° N. latitude. Great merit, no doubt, is due to the Fúlbe, for thus rescuing these regions from the grasp of the Berber tribes of the desert, although as a set-off it must be admitted that they do not understand how to organise a firm and benevolent government, which would give full security to the intercourse of people of different nationalities, instead of destroying the little commerce still existing in these unfortunate regions, by forcing upon the natives their own religious prejudices.

The danger of my situation increased when, on the 17th November, some more messengers from the prince of Hamda-Alláhi arrived in order to raise the zekʿa[139], and at the same time we received authentic information that the Fúlbe had made an attempt to instigate Áwáb, the chief of the Tademékket, upon whom I chiefly relied for my security, to betray me into their hands. News also arrived that the Welád Slímán, that section of the Berabísh to which belongs especially the chief Hámed Weled ʿAbéda, who killed Major Laing, had bound themselves by an oath to put me to death. But my situation became still more critical towards the close of the month, when, having once more left the town for the tents, we received information that a fresh party had arrived from the capital with the strictest orders to take me dead or alive. Being therefore afraid that my people, whom I had left in the town, frightened by the danger, might be induced to send my luggage out of the house where I was lodged, I sent in the course of the night the servant whom I had with me at the time, with strict orders not to move anything; but, before he reached the town, my other people had sent away my two large boxes to Táleb el Wáfi, the storekeeper of the Sheikh. But fortunately I did not sustain any loss from this proceeding, nothing being missing from these boxes, notwithstanding they had been left quite open.

Thursday, Dec. 1st.Having passed a rather anxious night, with my pistols in my girdle, and ready for any emergency, I was glad when, in the morning, I saw my boy return accompanied by Mohammed el ʿAísh. But I learned that the people of the town were in a state of great excitement, and that there was no doubt but an attack would be made upon my house the next morning. Thus much I made out myself; but, having no idea of the imminence of the danger, in the course of the day I sent away my only servant with my two horses, for the purpose of being watered. But my Tawáti friend seemed to be better informed, and taking his post on the rising ground of the sandy downs, on the slope of which we were encamped, kept an anxious look out towards the town. About dhohor, or two o’clock in the afternoon, he gave notice of the approach of horsemen in the distance, and while I went into my tent to look after my effects, Mohammed el Khalíl rushed in suddenly, crying out to me to arm myself. Upon this I seized all the arms I had, consisting of a double-barrelled gun, three pistols, and a sword; and I had scarcely come out when I met the Sheikh himself with the small six-barrelled pistol which I had given him in his hand. Handing one of my large pistols to Mohammed ben Mukhtár, a young man of considerable energy, and one of the chief followers of the Sheikh, I knelt down and pointed my gun at the foremost of the horsemen who, to the number of thirteen, were approaching. Having been brought to a stand by our threatening to fire if they came nearer, their officer stepped forward crying out that he had a letter to deliver to the Sheikh; but the latter forbade him to come near, saying that he would only receive the letter in the town, and not in the desert. The horsemen, finding that I was ready to shoot down the first two or three who should approach me, consulted with each other and then slowly fell back, relieving us from our anxious situation. But, though reassured of my own safety, I had my fears as to my servant and my two horses, and was greatly delighted when I saw them safely return from the water. However, our position soon became more secure in consequence of the arrival of Sídi Álawáte, accompanied by a troop of armed men, amongst whom there were some musketeers. It now remained to be decided what course we should pursue, and there was great indecision, Álawáte wanting to remain himself with me at the tents, while the Sheikh returned to the town.

But besides my dislike to stay any longer at the encampment, I had too little confidence in the younger brother of the Sheikh to trust my life in his hands, and I was therefore extremely delighted to find that El Bakáy himself, and Mohammed el ʿAísh, thought it best for me to return into the town. At the moment when we mounted our horses, a troop of Kél-hekíkan, although not always desirable companions, mounted on mehára, became visible in the distance, so that in their company we re-entered Timbúktu, not only with full security, but with great éclat, and without a single person daring to oppose our entrance; though Hammádi, the Sheikh’s rival, was just about to collect his followers in order to come himself and fight us at the tents. Frustrated in this plan, he came to my protector in his “msíd,” or place of prayer in front of his house, and had a serious conversation with him, while the followers of the latter armed themselves in order to anticipate any treachery or evil design, of which they were greatly afraid. But the interview passed off quietly, and, keeping strict watch on the terrace of our house, we passed the ensuing night without further disturbance.

This happened on the 1st of December; and the following morning, in conformity with the Sheikh’s protest, that he would receive the emír of Hamda-Alláhi’s letter only in Timbúktu, the messenger arrived; but the latter being a man of ignoble birth called Mohammed ben Sʿaíd, the character of the messenger irritated my host almost more even than the tenor of the letter, which ordered him to give me and my property up into the hands of his (the emír’s) people. After having given vent to his anger, he sent for me, and handed me the letter, together with another which had been addressed to the emír Kaúri, and the whole community of the town, Whites as well as Blacks (el bedhán ú e’ sudán), threatening them with condign punishment, if they should not capture me, or watch me in such a manner that I could not escape.

The serious character which affairs had assumed, and the entire revolution which my own personal business caused in the daily life of the community, were naturally very distressing to me, and nothing could be more against my wish than to irritate the fanatical and not powerless ruler of Hamda-Alláhi. It had been my most anxious desire from the beginning, to obtain the goodwill of this chief by sending him a present, but my friends here had frustrated my design; and even if in the beginning it had been possible, a supposition which is more than doubtful, considering the whole character of the Fúlbe of Hamda-Alláhi, it was now too late, as Séko Áhmedu had become my inveterate enemy, and I could only cling with the greater tenacity to the only trustworthy protector whom I had here, the Sheikh El Bakáy. In acknowledgment therefore of his straightforward conduct, I sent him, as soon as I had again taken quiet possession of my quarters, some presents to distribute among the Tawárek, besides giving the head man of the latter a small extra gift, and some powder and Háusa cloth to distribute among our friends. However, my situation remained very precarious. As if a serious combat was about to ensue, all the inhabitants tried their firearms, and there was a great deal of firing in the whole town, while the Morocco merchants, with ʿAbd e’ Salám at their head, endeavoured to lessen the Sheikh’s regard for me, by informing him that not even in their country (Morocco) were the Christians treated with so much regard, not only their luggage but even their dress being there searched on entering the country. But the Sheikh was not to be talked over in this manner, and adhered to me without wavering for a moment. He then sat down and wrote a spirited and circumstantial letter to Séko Áhmedu, wherein he reproached him with attempting to take out of his hands by force a man better versed in subjects of religion than he, the emír himself, who had come from a far distant country to pay him his respects, and who was his guest.

The following day, while I was in the company of the Sheikh, the emír Kaúri and the kádhi San-shírfu, together with several other principal personages, called upon him, when I paid my compliments to them all, and found that the latter especially was a very respectable man. My friend had provided for any emergency, having sent to the Tademékket, requesting them urgently to come to his assistance; and, in the evening of the 6th of December, Áwáb, the chief of the Tin-ger-égedesh, arrived with fifty horse, and was lodged by El Bakáy in the neighbourhood of our quarters.

The next morning the Sheikh sent for me to pay my compliments to this chief. I found him a very stately person of a proud commanding bearing, clad in a jellába tobe, striped red and white, and ornamented with green silk, his head adorned with a high red cap, an article of dress which is very rarely seen here, either among the Tawárek or even the Arabs. Having saluted him, I explained to him the reason of my coming, and for what purpose I sought imána; and when he raised an objection on account of my creed, because I did not acknowledge Mohammed as a prophet, I succeeded in warding off his attack, by telling him that they themselves did not acknowledge Mohammed as the only prophet, but likewise acknowledged Músa, ʿAísa, and many others; and that, in reality, they seemed to acknowledge in a certain degree the superiority of ʿAísa, by supposing that he was to return at the end of the world; and that thus, while we had a different prophet, but adored and worshipped one and the same God, and, leaving out of the question a few divergencies in point of diet and morals, followed the same religious principles as they themselves did, it seemed to me that we were nearer to each other than he thought, and might well be friends, offering to each other those advantages which each of us commanded.

We then came to speak about their history. I told him that I had visited their old dwelling-places in Aír, Tíggeda, and Tádmekka; but he was totally unaware of the fanciful derivation which the Arab authors have given to the latter name, viz. “likeness of Mekka,”[140] which probably never belonged to one town in particular, but has always been the name of a tribe. He felt, however, very much flattered by this piece of information, and seemed extremely delighted, when I told him how old the Islám was in his tribe. My little knowledge of these historical and religious matters was of invaluable service to me, and particularly in this instance, for obtaining the esteem of the natives and for overcoming their prejudices; for while this chief himself scarcely understood a single word of Arabic, so that I could only speak with him in very broken Temáshight or Tárkíye, his brother, El Khattáf, was well versed in that language, and spoke it fluently.

Having left the people to converse among themselves, I returned to the Sheikh in the afternoon, taking with me a present for Áwáb, consisting of a chequered tobe (such as I have described on a former occasion[141], and which are great favourites with these people), two túrkedí, and two black tesílgemíst, or shawls, besides another shawl and a handkerchief for his messenger, or mʿallem, who is the confidential factotum of every Tárki chief. He was as thankful as these barbarians can be, but wished to see something marvellous, as characteristic of the industry of our country; but I begged him to have patience, till, on some future occasion, some other person belonging to our nation should come to pay him a visit.

While I was staying there, a Púllo chief arrived from Gúndam with two companions, and reproached the Sheikh in my presence for having shown so much regard for an unbeliever, whose effects at least ought to have been delivered up to the chief of Hamda-Alláhi: but I imposed silence upon him, by showing him how little he himself knew of religious matters in calling me an unbeliever; and telling him, that if he had really any knowledge of, and faith in, his creed, his first duty was to try to convert those of his own countrymen who were still idolaters. At the same time I told the Tárki chief Áwáb, that it seemed to me as if they were afraid of the Fúlbe, or else they would certainly not allow them to molest travellers who visited this place with friendly intentions, while they could not even protect the natives. In reply he alleged that they were by no means afraid of them, having vanquished them on a former occasion, but that they only awaited the arrival of their kinsfolk to show them that they were the real masters of Timbúktu.

To add to the conflict of these opposing interests, a great number of strangers were at this time collected in the town, most of whom were of a far more fanatical disposition than the inhabitants themselves, who, on the whole, are very good-natured. The Berabísh alone, who had come into the town with about one thousand camels carrying their salt, mustered one hundred and twenty horse, prepared, no doubt, to fight the Fullán, if the latter should attempt to levy the “ʿashúr,” or the tithe, but still more hostilely disposed towards the Christian stranger who had intruded upon this remote corner, one of the most respected seats of the Mohammedan faith, and against whom they had a personal reason of hostility, as they were commanded by ʿAlí, the son of Hámed Weled ʿAbéda, the acknowledged murderer of Major Laing; and, of course, the news of my residence in the town, and of the hostile disposition of the Fúlbe, who had now been two months attempting in vain to drive me out of it, had spread far and wide.

This great influx of strangers into the town raised the price of all sorts of provisions, particularly that of Negro corn and rice, in a remarkable degree, the latter rising from 6000 to 7500 shells the “suníye,” while the former, which a few days before had been sold for 3750, equal at that time to one and a half “rás” of salt, rose to the exorbitant price of 6000 shells.

In the evening of the 7th, a slave suddenly arrived with the news that a letter had reached my address from the north. He was followed a short time afterwards by Mohammed el ʿAísh, who brought me the parcel, in question, which, however, had been opened. The letter was from Mr. Charles Dickson, Her Majesty’s Vice-Consul in Ghadámes, dated June 18th, and enclosing, besides some recommendations to native merchants, a number of “Galignani,” which informed me of the first movements of the Russians on the Danube. The Ghadámsíye people, who were the bearers of the letter, had already spread the news of a dreadful battle having been fought between the Turks and the Russians, in which 30,000 of the latter had been slain, and 40,000 made prisoners.

The following day Áwáb, who himself had arrived with fifty horsemen, was joined by his cousin Fandaghúmme with fifty more. This was very fortunate, for, about dhohor, the Fúlbe held a conference, or “kéndegáy,” in the Géngeré-bér, or Jámʿa el Kebíra, where Hámed Weled Fʿaamme, the malignant and hostile kádhi, made a violent speech before the assembly, exhorting the people to go immediately and carry out the order of their liege lord the Sheikho Áhmedu, even if they were to fight conjointly against El Bakáy, Áwáb, and the emír Kaúri, whom he represented as disobedient, and almost rebellious to his liege lord. A friend of the latter, who knew the cowardly disposition of the speaker, then rose in the assembly, and exhorted the kádhi to lead the van, and proceed to the attack, when every one would follow him. But the kádhi not choosing to expose his own person to danger nothing was done, and the assembly separated, every one going quietly to his home.

Meanwhile the two Tawárek chiefs, with their principal men, were assembled in the house of the Sheikh, where I went to meet them, but found them not quite satisfied with the part which they were acting. They entered into a warm dispute with me upon the subject of religion, but soon found themselves so perplexed, that they left it to the Sheikh to answer all my objections. A Protestant Christian may easily defend his creed against these children of the desert, as long as they have not recourse to arms.

Next morning we left the narrow lanes of Timbúktu, and entered upon the open sandy desert, accompanied by the two Tawárek chiefs, each of whom had fifteen companions. The tents being now further removed from the town, near the border of the inundations of the river, the camping ground was pleasant, and well adorned with trees; and having taken my own tent with me, where I could stretch myself out without being infested by the vermin which swarm in the native carpets, I enjoyed the open encampment extremely. Leathern tents had been pitched for the Tawárek, who in a short time made themselves quite at home, and were in high spirits. They became very much interested in a map of Africa which I showed to them, with the adjoining shores of Arabia, and they paid a compliment to their prophet by kissing the site of Mekka.

Being thus on good terms with my barbaric veiled friends the Molathemún, I enjoyed extremely, the following morning, the half-desert scenery, enlivened as it was by horses, camels, cattle, and interesting groups of men; but about noon a serious alarm arose, a great many horses being seen in the distance, and the number being exaggerated by some people to as many as two hundred. In consequence, we saddled our horses with great speed, and I mounted with my servants, while the Tawárek also kept their animals in readiness; but the advancing host appeared rather of a peaceable character, consisting of about twenty-five of the most respectable inhabitants of the town, with Muláy ʿAbd e’ Salám and Fasídi, the latter a very noble old man, at their head. They came, however, on a very important errand, based on the direct order as promulgated by the emír of Hamda-Alláhi, and addressed to the whole community, being in hopes that, through their personal authority, they might obtain from my host, in a friendly manner, what he had denied to the display of force. They had two requests, both aimed against myself: first, that El Bakáy should give them a copy of the letter which I was said to have brought with me from Stambúl; and the second, which was more explicit, that I should not return into the town. Now my firmán from Stambúl was my greatest trouble, for having anxiously requested Her British Majesty’s Government to send such a document after me, I always expected to receive it by some means or other; but I was not less disappointed in this respect, than in my expectation of receiving a letter of recommendation from Morocco; nevertheless, as I had some other letters from Mohammedans, the Sheikh promised to comply with the first demand of these people, while he refused to pay any attention to the second. After some unsuccessful negotiation, the messengers retraced their steps rather disheartened.

In order to attach more sincerely to my interest the Tawárek chiefs, who were my only supporters, I gave to Fandaghúmme a present equal to the one I had given to Áwáb. Next morning there arrived a troop of fugitives who were anxious to put themselves under the protection of the Sheikh. They belonged to the tribe of the Surk, who, from being the indigenous tribe on that part of the Niger which extends on both sides of the lake Debu, had been degraded, in the course of time, to the condition of serfs, and were threatened by the fanatical Sheikho Áhmedu with being sold into slavery. Of course it is the Sheikh El Bakáy’s policy to extend his protection to whatever quarter is threatened by the Fúlbe; but, in this case, sympathy with the miserable fate of these poor people led him to interfere.

It was near sunset when we mounted in order to return into the town; and on the way I kept up a conversation with Áwáb, till the time of the mughreb prayer arrived, when the whole of my friends went to pray on the desert ground, while I myself, remaining on horseback, went a little on one side of the track. My companions afterwards contended that it was from motives of pride and arrogance that I did not humble myself in the dust before the Almighty. I should certainly have liked to kneel down and thank Providence for the remarkable manner in which my life had hitherto been preserved; but I did not deem it politic to give way to their mode of thinking and worship in any respect; for I should have soon been taken for a Mohammedan, and once in such a false position, there would have been no getting out of it.

We then entered the town amidst the shouts of the people, who, by the appearance of the moon, had just discovered, as is very often the case in these regions, that they had been a day out in their reckoning, and that the following day was the festival of the Mulúd, or the birthday of Mohammed; and I was allowed to take quiet possession of my quarters.

The same evening I had an interesting conversation with the chief Áwáb, who paid me a long visit, in company with his mʿallem, and gave me the first account of the proceedings of that Christian traveller Mungo Park (to use his own words), who, about fifty years ago, came down the river in a large boat; describing the manner in which he had been first attacked by the Tawárek below Kábara, where he had lost some time in endeavouring to open a communication with the natives, while the Tin-ger-égedesh forwarded the news of his arrival, without delay, to the Igwádaren, who, having collected their canoes, attacked him, first near Bamba, and then again at the narrow passage of Tósaye[142], though all in vain; till at length, the boat of that intrepid traveller having stuck fast at Ensýmmo (probably identical with Ansóngo), the Tawárek of that neighbourhood made another fierce and more successful attack, causing him an immense deal of trouble, and killing, as Áwáb asserted, two of his Christian companions. He also gave me a full account of the iron hook with which the boat was provided against hippopotami and hostile canoes; and his statement altogether proved what an immense excitement the mysterious appearance of this European traveller, in his solitary boat, had caused among all the surrounding tribes.

This chief being very anxious to obtain some silver, I thought it best, in order to convince all the people that I had no dollars left (although I had saved about twenty for my journey to Háusa), to give him my silver knife and fork, besides some large silver rings which I had by me; and he was very glad to have obtained a sufficient quantity of this much-esteemed metal for adorning his beloved wife.

These Tawárek chiefs who had thus become well disposed towards me, through the interference of the Sheikh, wrote an excellent letter of franchise for any Englishman visiting this country, thus holding out the first glimmer of hope of a peaceable intercourse. But my own experience leaves no room for doubt that these chiefs are not strong enough of themselves to defend a Christian against the attacks of the Fúlbe in the upper course of the river above Timbúktu, besides the fact that Áwáb is too nearly connected with the latter to be entirely trusted. It was on this account that my host esteemed his cousin Fandaghúmme much higher, and placed greater reliance on him, although the actual chieftainship rested with Áwáb. All this business, however, together with the writing of the letter to the chief of Hamda-Alláhi, which was rejected in several forms, and caused a great many representations from the chief men of the town, proved extremely tedious to me. My health, too, at that time was in a very indifferent condition, and I suffered repeatedly from attacks of fever. In a sanitary point of view, Timbúktu can in no wise be reckoned among the more favoured places of these regions. Both Sansándi and Ségo are considered more healthy. But, notwithstanding my sickly state, I had sufficient strength left to finish several letters, which, together with a map of the western part of the desert, I intended sending home by the first opportunity.