PALGRAVE’S TRAVELS—ADVENTURES IN RI’AD.
“BARAKAT and myself stopped our dromedaries a few minutes on the height
to study and enjoy this noble prospect, and to forget the anxiety
inseparable from a first approach to the lion’s own den. Aboo-’Eysa,
too, though not unacquainted with the scene, willingly paused with us to
point out and name the main features of the view, and show us where lay
the onward road to his home in Hasa. We then descended the slope and
skirted the walls of the first outlying plantations which gird the town.
“At last we reached a great open square: its right side, the northern,
consists of shops and warehouses; while the left is entirely absorbed by
the huge abode of Nedjean royalty; in front of us, and consequently to
the west, a long covered passage, upborne high on a clumsy colonnade,
crossed the breadth of the square, and reached from the palace to the
great mosque, which it thus joins directly with the interior of the
castle and affords old Feysul a private and unseen passage at will from
his own apartments to his official post at the Friday prayers, without
exposing him on his way to vulgar curiosity, or perhaps to the dangers of
treachery. For the fate of his father and of his great-uncle, his
predecessors on the throne, and each of them pierced by the dagger of an
assassin during public worship, has rendered Feysul very timid on this
score, though not at prayer-time only. Behind this colonnade, other
shops and warehouses make up the end of the square, or, more properly,
parallelogram; its total length is about two hundred paces, by rather
more than half the same width. In the midst of this space, and under the
far-reaching shadow of the castle walls, are seated some fifty or sixty
women, each with a stock of bread, dates, milk, vegetables, or firewood
before her for sale.
“But we did not now stop to gaze, nor indeed did we pay much attention to
all this; our first introduction to the monarch and the critical position
before us took up all our thoughts. So we paced on alongside of the long
blind wall running out from the central keep, and looking more like the
outside of a fortress than of a peaceful residence, till we came near a
low and narrow gate, the only entry to the palace. Deep-sunk between the
bastions, with massive folding doors iron bound, though thrown open at
this hour of the day, and giving entrance into a dark passage, one might
easily have taken it for the vestibule of a prison; while the number of
guards, some black, some white, but all sword-girt, who almost choked the
way, did not seem very inviting to those without, especially to
foreigners. Long earth seats lined the adjoining walls, and afforded a
convenient waiting-place for visitors; and here we took up our rest at a
little distance from the palace gate; but Aboo-’Eysa entered at once to
announce our arrival, and the approach of the Na’ib.
“The first who drew near and saluted us was a tall, meagre figure, of a
sallow complexion, and an intelligent but slightly ill-natured and
underhand cast of features. He was very well dressed, though of course
without a vestige of unlawful silk in his apparel, and a certain air of
conscious importance tempered the affability of his politeness. This was
’Abd-el-’Azeez, whom, for want of a better title, I shall call the
minister of foreign affairs, such being the approximate translation of
his official style.
“Accompanied by some attendants from the palace, he came stately up, and
seated himself by our side. He next began the customary interrogations
of whence and what, with much smiling courtesy and show of welcome.
After hearing our replies, the same of course as those given elsewhere,
he invited us to enter the precincts, and partake of his Majesty’s coffee
and hospitality, while he promised us more immediate communications from
the king himself in the course of the day.
“If my readers have seen, as most of them undoubtedly will, the Paris
Tuileries, they may hereby know that the whole extent of Feysul’s palace
equals about two-thirds of that construction, and is little inferior to
it in height; if indeed we except the angular pyramidal roofs or
extinguishers peculiar to the French edifice. But in ornament the
Parisian pile has the better of it, for there is small pretensions to
architectural embellishment in this Wahabee Louvre. Without, within,
every other consideration has been sacrificed to strength and security;
and the outer view of Newgate, at any rate, bears a very strong
resemblance to the general effect of Feysul’s palace.
“Aboo-’Eysa meanwhile, in company with the outriders sent from the
palace, had gone to meet the Na’ib and introduce him to the lodgings
prepared for his reception. Very much was the Persian astounded to find
none of the royal family among those who thus came, no one even of high
name or office; but yet more was his surprise when, instead of immediate
admittance to Feysul’s presence and eager embrace, he was quietly led
aside to the very guest-room whither we had been conducted, and a dinner
not a whit more sumptuous than ours was set before him, after which he
was very coolly told that he might pray for Feysul and retire to his
quarters, while the king settled the day and hour whereon he would
vouchsafe him the honor of an audience.
“Afterward, the minister of foreign affairs condescended to come in
person, and, sweetly smiling, informed us that our temporary habitation
was ready, and that Aboo-’Eysa would conduct us thither without delay.
We then begged to know, if possible, the king’s good-will and pleasure
regarding our stay and our business in the town. For on our first
introduction we had duly stated, in the most correct Wahabee phraseology,
that we had come to Ri’ad ‘desiring the favor of God, and secondly of
Feysul; and that we begged of God, and secondly of Feysul, permission to
exercise in the town our medical profession, under the protection of God,
and in the next place of Feysul.’ For Dogberry’s advice to ‘set God
first, for God defend but God should go before such villains,’ is here
observed to the letter; whatever is desired, purported, or asked, the
Deity must take the lead. Nor this only, but even the subsequent mention
of the creature must nowise be coupled with that of the Creator by the
ordinary conjunction ‘w’,’ that is, ‘and,’ since that would imply
equality between the two—flat blasphemy in word or thought. Hence the
disjunctive ‘thumma,’ or ‘next after,’ ‘at a distance,’ must take the
place of ‘w’,’ under penalty of prosecution under the statute. ‘Unlucky
the man who visits Nedjed without being previously well versed in the
niceties of grammar,’ said Barakat; ‘under these schoolmasters a mistake
might cost the scholar his head.’ But of this more anon; to return to
our subject, ’Abd-el-’Azeez, a true politician, answered our second
interrogation with a vague assurance of good-will and unmeaning
patronage. Meantime the Na’ib and his train marched off in high dudgeon
to their quarters, and Aboo-’Eysa gave our dromedaries a kick, made them
rise, and drove them before us to our new abode.”
In the course of a day or two the travellers discovered what a sensation
the arrival of their caravan had produced at court. The old king,
Feysul, now in the thirty-third year of his reign, possessed all the
superstition and bigotry of the old Wahabees, and the sudden presence of
Syrians, suspected of being Christians, Persians, and Meccans, in his
capital, was too much for him. He at once left the palace, took up his
temporary residence in a house outside the city, and a strong guard was
posted around him until the court officials should have time to examine
the strangers, discover, if possible, their secret designs, and report
them to the king. The first spy was a shrewd and intelligent Affghan, a
pretended convert to the Wahabee doctrine, who discovered nothing, and
consequently made an unfavorable report. The second was a “man of zeal,”
one of a committee of twenty-two inquisitors, appointed by the king to
exercise constant espionage upon the inhabitants, with the power of
punishing them at will for any infraction or neglect of the Wahabee
discipline. Palgrave gives the following account of his visit:
“Abbood, for such was his name, though I never met the like before or
after in Arabia proper, however common it may be in Syria and Lebanon,
took a different and more efficacious mode of espionage than
’Abd-el-Hameed had done before him. Affecting to consider us Mahometans,
and learned ones too, he entered at once on religious topics, on the true
character of Islam, its purity or corruptions, and inquired much after
the present teaching and usages of Damascus and the North, evidently in
the view of catching us in our words. But he had luckily encountered his
match; for every citation of the Koran we replied with two, and proved
ourselves intimately acquainted with the ‘greater’ and the ‘lesser’
polytheism of foreign nations and heterodox Mahometans, with the
commentaries of Beydowee and the tales of the Hadeeth, till our visitor,
now won over to confidence, launched out full sail on the sea of
discussion, and thereby rendered himself equally instructive and
interesting to men who had nothing more at heart than to learn the tenets
of the sect from one of its most zealous professors, nay, a Zelator in
person. In short, he ended by becoming half a friend, and his regrets at
our being, like other Damascenes, yet in the outer porch of darkness,
were tempered by a hope, which he did not disguise, of at least putting a
window in our porch for its better enlightenment.”
Next day, in the forenoon, while the travellers were sauntering about the
market-place, they met the minister ’Abd-el-’Azeez, who had that morning
returned to the capital. With a smiling face and an air of great
benignity he took them aside, and informed them the king did not consider
Ri’ad a proper field for their medical skill; that they had better at
once continue their journey to Hofhoof, whither Aboo-’Eysa should conduct
them straightway; and that the king would furnish each of them with a
camel, a new suit of clothes, and some money. To these arguments
Palgrave could only answer that he greatly desired the profit to be
expected from a few weeks of medical practice in Ri’ad, since his success
there would give him an immediate reputation in Hofhoof, while his
departure might deprive him of all reputation at the latter place. The
minister promised to present his plea to Feysul, but gave him no hope of
a favorable answer. The order to leave was repeated, and then, as a last
experiment, Palgrave sent to two of the ministers a pound of the fragrant
wood, which is burned as pastilles in Arabia, and is highly prized by the
upper classes. The next day he received permission to remain longer in
Ri’ad and exercise his profession. He thereupon took another residence,
not so near the palace, and within convenient reach of one of the city
gates. Before describing the place he gives the following account of the
famous Arabian coffee:
“Be it then known, by way of prelude, that coffee, though one in name, is
manifold in fact; nor is every kind of berry entitled to the high
qualifications too indiscriminately bestowed on the comprehensive genus.
The best coffee, let cavillers say what they will, is that of the Yemen,
commonly entitled ‘Mokha,’ from the main place of exportation. Now, I
should be sorry to incur a lawsuit for libel or defamation from our
wholesale or retail salesmen; but were the particle NOT prefixed to the
countless labels in London shop windows that bear the name of the Red Sea
haven, they would have a more truthy import than what at present they
convey. Very little, so little indeed as to be quite inappreciable, of
the Mocha or Yemen berry ever finds its way westward of Constantinople.
Arabia itself, Syria, and Egypt consume fully two-thirds, and the
remainder is almost exclusively absorbed by Turkish and Armenian
œsophagi. Nor do these last get for their limited share the best or the
purest. Before reaching the harbors of Alexandria, Jaffa, Beyrout, etc.,
for further exportation, the Mokhan bales have been, while yet on their
way, sifted and resifted, grain by grain, and whatever they may have
contained of the hard, rounded, half-transparent, greenish-brown berry,
the only one really worth roasting and pounding, has been carefully
picked out by experienced fingers; and it is the less generous residue of
flattened, opaque, and whitish grains which alone, or almost alone, goes
on board the shipping. So constant is this selecting process, that a
gradation regular as the degrees on a map may be observed in the quality
of Mokha, that is, Yemen, coffee even within the limits of Arabia itself,
in proportion as one approaches to or recedes from Wadi Nejran and the
neighborhood of Mecca, the first stages of the radiating mart. I have
myself been times out of number an eye-witness of this sifting; the
operation is performed with the utmost seriousness and scrupulous
exactness, reminding me of the diligence ascribed to American
diamond-searchers when scrutinizing the torrent sands for their minute
but precious treasure.
“The berry, thus qualified for foreign use, quits its native land on
three main lines of export—that of the Red Sea, that of the inner Hedjaz,
and that of Kaseem. The terminus of the first line is Egypt, of the
second Syria, of the third Nedjed and Shomer. Hence Egypt and Syria are,
of all countries without the frontiers of Arabia, the best supplied with
its specific produce, though under the restrictions already stated; and
through Alexandria or the Syrian seaports, Constantinople and the North
obtain their diminished share. But this last stage of transport seldom
conveys the genuine article, except by the intervention of private
arrangements and personal friendship or interest. Where mere sale and
traffic are concerned, substitution of an inferior quality, or an
adulteration almost equivalent to substitution, frequently takes place in
the different storehouses of the coast, till whatever Mokha-marked coffee
leaves them for Europe and the West, is often no more like the real
offspring of the Yemen plant than the log-wood preparations of a London
fourth-rate retail wine-seller resemble the pure libations of an Oporto
vineyard.
“The second species of coffee, by some preferred to that of Yemen, but in
my poor opinion inferior to it, is the growth of Abyssinia; its berry is
larger, and of a somewhat different and a less heating flavor. It is,
however, an excellent species; and whenever the rich land that bears it
shall be permitted by man to enjoy the benefits of her natural fertility,
it will probably become an object of extensive cultivation and commerce.
With this stops, at least in European opinion and taste, the list of
coffee, and begins the list of beans.
“While we were yet in the Djowf I described with sufficient minuteness
how the berry is prepared for actual use; nor is the process any way
varied in Nedjed or other Arab lands. But in Nedjed an additional
spicing of saffron, cloves, and the like, is still more common; a fact
which is easily explained by the want of what stimulus tobacco affords
elsewhere. A second consequence of non-smoking among the Arabs is the
increased strength of their coffee decoctions in Nedjed, and the
prodigious frequency of their use; to which we must add the larger
‘finjans,’ or coffee-cups, here in fashion. So sure are men, when
debarred of one pleasure or excitement, to make it up by another.”
Palgrave gives the following picturesque description of the Wahabee
capital: “We wrap our headgear, like true Arabs, round our chins, put on
our grave-looking black cloaks, take each a long stick in hand, and
thread the narrow streets intermediate between our house and the
market-place at a funeral pace, and speaking in an undertone. Those whom
we meet salute us, or we salute them; be it known that the lesser number
should always be the first to salute the greater, he who rides him who
walks, he who walks him who stands, the stander the sitter, and so forth;
but never should a man salute a woman; difference of age or even of rank
between men does not enter into the general rules touching the priority
of salutation. If those whom we have accosted happen to be acquaintances
or patients, or should they belong to the latitudinarian school, our
salutation is duly returned. But if, by ill fortune, they appertain to
the strict and high orthodox party, an under-look with a half scowl in
silence is their only answer to our greeting. Whereat we smile,
Malvolio-like, and pass on.
“At last we reach the market-place; it is full of women and peasants,
selling exactly what we want to buy, besides meat, firewood, milk, etc.;
around are customers, come on errands like our own. We single out a
tempting basket of dates, and begin haggling with the unbeautiful
Phyllis, seated beside her rural store. We find the price too high. ‘By
him who protects Feysul,’ answers she, ‘I am the loser at that price.’
We insist. ‘By Him who shall grant Feysul a long life, I cannot bate
it,’ she replies. We have nothing to oppose to such tremendous
asseverations, and accede or pass on, as the case may be.
“Half of the shops, namely, those containing grocery, household articles
of use, shoemakers’ stalls and smithies, are already open and busily
thronged. For the capital of a strongly centralized empire is always
full of strangers, come will they nill they on their several affairs.
But around the butchers’ shops awaits the greatest human and canine
crowd. My readers, I doubt not, know that the only licensed scavengers
throughout the East are the dogs. Nedjeans are great flesh-eaters, and
no wonder, considering the cheapness of meat (a fine fat sheep costs at
most five shillings, often less) and the keenness of mountaineer
appetites. I wish that the police regulations of the city would enforce
a little more cleanliness about these numerous shambles; every refuse is
left to cumber the ground at scarce two yards’ distance. But dogs and
dry air much alleviate the nuisance—a remark I made before at Ha’yel and
Bereydah; it holds true for all Central Arabia.
“Barakat and I resolve on continuing our walk through the town. Ri’ad is
divided into four quarters: one, the northeastern, to which the palaces
of the royal family, the houses of the state officers, and the richer
class of proprietors and government men belong. Here the dwellings are
in general high, and the streets tolerably straight and not over-narrow;
but the ground level is low, and it is perhaps the least healthy locality
of all. Next the northwestern, where we are lodged; a large irregular
mass of houses, varying in size and keeping from the best to the worst;
here strangers, and often certain equivocal characters, never wanting in
large towns, however strictly regulated, chiefly abide; here too are many
noted for disaffection, and harboring other tenets than those of the son
of ’Abdel-Wahab, men prone to old Arab ways and customs in ‘Church and
State,’ to borrow our own analogous phrase; here are country chiefs, here
Bedouins and natives of Zulphah and the outskirts find a lodging; here,
if anywhere, is tobacco smoked or sold, and the Koran neglected in
proportion. However, I would not have my readers to think our entire
neighborhood so absolutely disreputable.
“But we gladly turn away our eyes from so dreary a view to refresh them
by a survey of the southwestern quarter, the chosen abode of formalism
and orthodoxy. In this section of Ri’ad inhabit the most energetic
Zelators, here are the most irreproachable five-prayers-a-day Nedjeans,
and all the flower of Wahabee purity. Above all, here dwell the
principal survivors of the family of the great religions Founder, the
posterity of ’Abd-el-Wahab escaped from the Egyptian sword, and free from
every stain of foreign contamination. Mosques of primitive simplicity
and ample space, where the great dogma, not however confined to Ri’ad,
that ‘we are exactly in the right, and everyone else is in the wrong,’ is
daily inculcated to crowds of auditors, overjoyed to find Paradise all
theirs and none’s but theirs; smaller oratories of Musallas, wells for
ablution, and Kaabah-directed niches adorn every corner, and fill up
every interval of house or orchard. The streets of this quarter are
open, and the air healthy, so that the invisible blessing is seconded by
sensible and visible privileges of Providence. Think not, gentle reader,
that I am indulging in gratuitous or self-invented irony; I am only
rendering expression for expression, and almost word for word, the talk
of true Wahabees, when describing the model quarter of their model city.
This section of the town is spacious and well-peopled, and flourishes,
the citadel of national and religious intolerance, pious pride, and
genuine Wahabeeism.
“Round the whole town run the walls, varying from twenty to thirty feet
in height; they are strong, in good repair, and defended by a deep trench
and embankment. Beyond them are the gardens, much similar to those of
Kaseem, both in arrangement and produce, despite the difference of
latitude, here compensated by a higher ground level. But immediately to
the south, in Yemamah, the eye remarks a change in the vegetation to a
more tropical aspect; of this, however, I will not say more for the
present.
“According to promise, Aboo-’Eysa played his part to bring us in patients
and customers, and the very second morning that dawned on us in our new
house ushered in an invalid who proved a very godsend. This was no other
than Djowhar, treasurer of Feysul, and of the Wahabee empire. My readers
may be startled to learn that this great functionary was jet black, a
negro in fact, though not a slave, having obtained his freedom from
Turkee, the father of the present king. He was tall, and, for a negro,
handsome; about forty-five years of age, splendidly dressed, a point
never neglected by wealthy Africans, whatever be their theoretical creed,
and girt with a golden-hilted sword. ‘But,’ said he, ‘gold, though
unlawful if forming a part of apparel or mere ornament, may be employed
with a safe conscience in decorating weapons.’
“After ceremonies and coffee, I took my dusky patient into the
consulting-room, where, by dint of questioning and surmise, for negroes
in general are much less clear and less to the point than Arabs in their
statements, I obtained the requisite elucidation of his case. The
malady, though painful, was fortunately one admitting of simple and
efficacious treatment, so that I was able on the spot to promise him a
sensible amendment of condition within a fortnight, and that in three
weeks’ time he should be in plight to undertake his journey to Bahreyn.
I added that with so distinguished a personage I could not think of
exacting a bargain and fixing the amount of fees; the requital of my care
should be left to his generosity. He then took leave, and was
re-conducted to his rooms in the palace by his fellow blacks of less
degree.”
The next visitor was Abd el-Kereem, of the oldest nobility of Nedjed,
related to the ruling family; a bitter Wahabee, a strong, intelligent,
bad, and dangerous man, who was both hated and feared by the people. His
visit was a distinction for Palgrave, yet an additional danger. The
latter, however, determined to draw as much information from him
concerning Wahabee doctrine as he might be inclined to give; and, in
reality, found him quite communicative. One day Palgrave asked him to
define the difference between the _great_ sins and the _little_ ones—that
is, those to be punished in the next world, or at least deserving of it,
and those whose penalty is remissible in this life.
“Abd-el-Kereem doubted not that he had a sincere scholar before him, nor
would refuse his hand to a drowning man. So, putting on a profound air,
and with a voice of first-class solemnity, he uttered his oracle, that
‘the first of the great sins is the giving divine honors to a creature.’
A hit, I may observe, at ordinary Mahometans, whose whole doctrine of
intercession, whether vested in Mahomet or in ’Alee, is classed by
Wahabees along with direct and downright idolatry. A Damascene Shekh
would have avoided the equivocation by answering, ‘infidelity.’
“‘Of course,’ I replied, ‘the enormity of such a sin is beyond all doubt.
But if this be the first, there must be a second; what is it?’
“‘Drinking the shameful,’ in English, ‘smoking tobacco,’ was the
unhesitating answer.
“‘And murder, and adultery, and false witness?’ I suggested.
“‘God is merciful and forgiving,’ rejoined my friend; that is, these are
merely little sins.
“‘Hence two sins alone are great, polytheism and smoking,’ I continued,
though hardly able to keep countenance any longer. And Abd-el-Kereem,
with the most serious asseveration, replied that such was really the
case. On hearing this, I proceeded humbly to entreat my friend to
explain to me the especial wickedness inherent in tobacco leaves, that I
might the more detest and eschew them hereafter.
“Accordingly he proceeded to instruct me, saying that, Firstly, all
intoxicating substances are prohibited by the Koran; but tobacco is an
intoxicating substance—ergo, tobacco is prohibited.
“I insinuated that it was not intoxicating, and appealed to experience.
But, to my surprise, my friend had experience too on his side, and had
ready at hand the most appalling tales of men falling down dead drunk
after a single whiff of smoke, and of others in a state of bestial and
habitual ebriety from its use. Nor were his stories so purely gratuitous
as many might at first imagine. The only tobacco known, when known, in
Southern Nedjed, is that of Oman, a very powerful species. I was myself
astonished, and almost ‘taken in,’ more than once, by its extraordinary
narcotic effects, when I experienced them, in the coffee-houses of
Bahreyn.”
Palgrave furnishes a tolerably complete account of the provinces of
Nedjed and the tribes which inhabit them. His concluding statement,
however, embodies all which will interest the reader.
“To sum up, we may say that the Wahabee empire is a compact and
well-organized government, where centralization is fully understood and
effectually carried out, and whose main-springs and connecting links are
force and fanaticism. There exist no constitutional checks either on the
king or on his subordinates, save what the necessity of circumstance
imposes or the Koran prescribes. Its atmosphere, to speak
metaphorically, is sheer despotism—moral, intellectual, religious, and
physical. This empire is capable of frontier extension, and hence is
dangerous to its neighbors, some of whom it is even now swallowing up,
and will certainly swallow more if not otherwise prevented. Incapable of
true internal progress, hostile to commerce, unfavorable to arts and even
to agriculture, and in the highest degree intolerant and aggressive, it
can neither better itself nor benefit others; while the order and calm
which it sometimes spreads over the lands of its conquest are described
in the oft-cited _Ubi solitudinem faciunt pacem appellant_ of the Roman
annalist.
“In conclusion, I here subjoin a numerical list, taken partly from the
government registers of Ri’ad, partly from local information, and
containing the provinces, the number of the principal towns or villages,
the population, and the military contingent, throughout the Wahabee
empire.”
Provinces Towns or Population Military
Villages muster
I. ’Aared 15 110,000 6,000
II. Yemamah 32 140,000 4,500
III. Hareek 16 45,000 3,000
IV. Aflaj 12 14,000 1,200
V. Wady Dowasir 50 100,000 4,000
VI. Seley’yel 14 30,000 1,400
VII. Woshem 20 80,000 4,000
VIII. Sedeyr 25 140,000 5,200
IX. Kaseem 60 300,000 11,000
X. Hasa 50 160,000 7,000
XI. Kateef 22 100,000 —
316 1,219,000 47,300
After a time, Palgrave was sent for by Abdallah, the eldest son of King
Feysul, who pretended that he wished to learn something of the medical
art. This led to a regular intercourse, which at least enabled the
traveller to learn many things concerning the Wahabee government.
Another important result was an opportunity of visiting the royal
stables, where the finest specimens of the famous Nedjed breed of horses
are kept. Of these he gives the following interesting description:
“The stables are situated some way out of the town, to the northeast, a
little to the left of the road which we had followed at our first
arrival, and not far from the gardens of ’Abd-er-Rahman the Wahabee.
They cover a large square space, about 150 yards each way, and are open
in the centre, with a long shed running round the inner walls; under this
covering the horses, about three hundred in number when I saw them, are
picketed during the night; in the daytime they may stretch their legs at
pleasure within the central court-yard. The greater number were
accordingly loose; a few, however, were tied up at their stalls; some,
but not many, had horse-cloths over them. The heavy dews which fall in
Wady Haneefah do not permit their remaining with impunity in the open
night air; I was told also that a northerly wind will occasionally injure
the animals here, no less than the land wind does now and then their
brethren in India. About half the royal stud was present before me, the
rest were out at grass; Feysul’s entire muster is reckoned at six
hundred, or rather more.
“No Arab dreams of tying up a horse by the neck; a tether replaces the
halter, and one of the animal’s hind legs is encircled about the pastern
by a light iron ring, furnished with a padlock, and connected with an
iron chain of two feet or thereabouts in length, ending in a rope, which
is fastened to the ground at some distance by an iron peg; such is the
customary method. But should the animal be restless and troublesome, a
foreleg is put under similar restraint. It is well known that in Arabia
horses are much less frequently vicious or refractory than in Europe, and
this is the reason why geldings are here so rare, though not unknown. No
particular prejudice, that I could discover, exists against the operation
itself; only it is seldom performed, because not otherwise necessary, and
tending, of course, to diminish the value of the animal.
“But to return to the horses now before us; never had I seen or imagined
so lovely a collection. Their stature was indeed somewhat low; I do not
think that any came fully up to fifteen hands; fourteen appeared to me
about their average, but they were so exquisitely well shaped that want
of greater size seemed hardly, if at all, a defect. Remarkably full in
the haunches, with a shoulder of a slope so elegant as to make one, in
the words of an Arab poet, ‘go raving mad about it;’ a little, a very
little, saddle-backed, just the curve which indicates springiness without
any weakness; a head broad above, and tapering down to a nose fine enough
to verify the phrase of ‘drinking from a pint pot,’ did pint pots exist
in Nedjed; a most intelligent and yet a singularly gentle look, full eye,
sharp thorn-like little ear, legs fore and hind that seemed as if made of
hammered iron, so clean and yet so well twisted with sinew; a neat, round
hoof, just the requisite for hard ground; the tail set on, or rather
thrown out at a perfect arch; coats smooth, shining, and light, the mane
long, but not overgrown nor heavy, and an air and step that seemed to
say, ‘Look at me, am I not pretty?’ their appearance justified all
reputation, all value, all poetry. The prevailing color was chestnut or
gray; a light bay, an iron color, white or black, were less common; full
bay, flea-bitten or piebald, none. But if asked what are, after all, the
specially distinctive points of the Nedjee horse, I should reply, the
slope of the shoulder, the extreme cleanness of the shank, and the full,
rounded haunch, though every other part, too, has a perfection and a
harmony unwitnessed (at least by my eyes) anywhere else.
“Nedjee horses are especially esteemed for great speed and endurance of
fatigue; indeed, in this latter quality, none come up to them. To pass
twenty-four hours on the road without drink and without flagging is
certainly something; but to keep up the same abstinence and labor
conjoined under the burning Arabian sky for forty-eight hours at a
stretch, is, I believe, peculiar to the animals of the breed. Besides,
they have a delicacy, I cannot say of mouth, for it is common to ride
them without bit or bridle, but of feeling and obedience to the knee and
thigh, to the slightest check of the halter and the voice of the rider,
far surpassing whatever the most elaborate manége gives a European horse,
though furnished with snaffle, curb, and all. I often mounted them at
the invitation of their owners, and without saddle, rein, or stirrup, set
them off at full gallop, wheeled them round, brought them up in mid
career at a dead halt, and that without the least difficulty or the
smallest want of correspondence between the horse’s movements and my own
will; the rider on their back really feels himself the man-half of a
centaur, not a distinct being.”
During the last week in November the Persian Na’ib, who had been little
edified by his experiences in Nedjed, set off for Bagdad. In the
meantime, Feysul had made great preparations toward collecting an army
for the reduction of the city of ’Oneyzah (near Bereydah), which still
held out gallantly. Troops were summoned from the eastern coast and the
adjoining provinces, and Sa’ood, the second son of Feysul, was ordered to
bring them together at the capital, when the command was to be given to
Abdallah, the eldest son. Palgrave had then his only opportunity of
seeing the old King of the Wahabees.
“Sa’ood speedily arrived, and with him about two hundred horsemen; the
rest of his men, more than two thousand, were mounted on camels. When
they entered Ri’ad, Feysul, for the first and last time during our stay,
gave a public audience at the palace gate. It was a scene for a painter.
There sat the blind old tyrant, corpulent, decrepit, yet imposing, with
his large, broad forehead, white beard, and thoughtful air, clad in all
the simplicity of a Wahabee; the gold-hafted sword at his side his only
ornament or distinction. Beside him the ministers, the officers of his
court, and a crowd of the nobler and wealthier citizens. Abdallah, the
heir to the throne, was alone absent. Up came Sa’ood with the bearing of
a hussar officer, richly clad in cashmere shawls and a gold-wrought
mantle, while man by man followed his red-dressed cavaliers, their spears
over their shoulders, and their swords hanging down; a musket, too, was
slung behind the saddle of each warrior; and the sharp dagger of Hareek
glittered in every girdle. Next came the common soldiers on camels or
dromedaries, some with spears only, some with spears and guns, till the
wide square was filled with armed men and gazing spectators, as the whole
troop drew up before the great autocrat, and Sa’ood alighted to bend and
kiss his father’s hand. ‘God save Feysul! God give the victory to the
armies of the Muslims!’ was shouted out on every side, and all faces
kindled into the fierce smile of concentrated enthusiasm and conscious
strength. Feysul arose from his seat and placed his son at his side;
another moment, and they entered the castle together.”