8th reached Wed Médineh. This place is almost as important as Sennâr. A
regiment of soldiers is here in garrison with the only band of music in
the Sudan, and with two cannons. We were immediately visited by the chief
clerk of the regiment, Seïd Haschim, one of the most distinguished people
of the place, with whom we had formerly become acquainted in Chartûm.
We determined to go from this on a visit to the Sultâna Nasr (Victoria)
in SORÎBA, which is about an hour and a half inland, partly to learn
something of the character of the country farther removed from the river,
partly to gain some notion of the court of an Ethiopian princess. Seïd
Haschim offered his dromedaries and asses, and to accompany us himself on
this expedition. We therefore set out with him in the afternoon over the
hot, black plain, where only a few trees were scattered here and there,
and soon got over the uninteresting ground on our active animals.
NASR is the sister of the most powerful and the richest King (Melek)
in the Sudan, the IDRIS WED (_i. e._ WELLED, the son or descendant of)
ADLÂN, who now indeed is under the supremacy of Mohammed Ali, but yet
rules over several hundred villages in the province of El Fungi; his
title is Mak el Qulle, King of the Qulle Mountains. One of his ancestors
was called ADLÂN, and the whole family at present is named after him;
his father was the same Mohammed (Wed) Adlân, who at the period of the
victorious campaign of Ismael Pascha, appropriated to himself the greater
part of the power belonging to the legitimate but feeble Bâdi, King of
Sennâr, but who afterwards, at the instigation of a second Pretender,
Reg´eb, was murdered. When Ismael approached, and Reg´eb had fled with
his adherents into the Abyssinian mountains, King Bâdi joined the
children and the party of Mohammed Adlân, and submitted to the Pascha,
who made him a Sheikh over the country, had the murderers of Mohammed
Adlân empaled, and bestowed great power and riches on his children Reg´eb
and Idris Adlân. Their sister Nasr was also treated with great respect,
which was still more increased because she was descended, on the mother’s
side, from the legitimate royal house itself. On that account she is
also called _Sultâna_, Queen. Her first husband was Mohammed Sandalôba,
a brother of Hassan Sandalôba, whom we had visited in Sennâr. He died
a long time ago, but by him she had a daughter, Dauer (the Light), who
married a great Sheikh, Abd el Qader, but she was afterwards separated
from him, and now always resides with her mother in Sorîba. The second
husband of Nasr is Mohammed Defalla, the son of one of her father’s
viziers. He was just then with Ahmed Pascha Menekle, on the campaign
(_Ghazua_, out of which the French have made _Razzia_) in Taka. But even
when he is at home, on account of her noble birth, she continues mistress
in the house.
A great preference for the female sex seems to have been a very universal
custom since ancient times in these southern countries. We must recollect
how frequently we find reigning Queens of Ethiopia mentioned. In the
campaigns of Petronius, Candace is well known, a name which, according to
Pliny, was given to all the Ethiopian Queens; according to others, only
to the mother of the King. In the pictures at Meröe, also, we sometimes
see very warlike, and doubtless reigning, Queens represented. According
to Makrizi, the genealogies of the Beg´as, who I consider to be the
direct descendants of the Meröitish Ethiopians, and the ancestors of the
present Bischâris, were not counted by the men, but by the women; and the
inheritance did not go to the son of the deceased, but to the son of the
sister, or of the daughter of the deceased. In like manner, according to
Abu-Sela, among the Nubians, the sister’s son always had the preference
of his own son in the succession to the throne; and, according to Ibn
Batuta, the same custom existed among the Messofites, a negro people
lying to the west. Even now the household and chief offices belonging
to the courts of several southern princes are wholly filled by women.
Ladies of distinction are in the habit of allowing their nails to grow
an inch long, as a sign that their duty consists in commanding, and not
in working; a custom we have lately seen in the representations of the
unshapely and corpulent Queens of Meröe.
When we arrived in SORÎBA, we stepped through a peculiar gate-house
into the great square court-yard, which passes round the principal
building, and then into an open lofty hall, the roof of which rested on
four pillars, and four pilasters. The narrow beams of the ceiling jut
out several feet above the simple architrave, and form the immediate
support of the flat roof; the whole entrance reminded me much of the
open façades of the tombs of Benihassan. In the hall there stood some
beautiful furniture of Indian work in ebony, some broad anqarebs, with
frames for the fly-nets. Magnificent coverlets were immediately brought
in, and sherbet, coffee, and pipes handed round; the vessels were made
of gold and silver. Black slave girls in light white dresses, which are
fastened round the hips, and drawn over the bosom and shoulders, handed
the refreshments, and looked most strange with their half-braided,
half-combed wigs. The Queen did not however appear; perhaps she shrank
from showing herself to Christians; we were only able to see some women
who were standing behind a half-opened door, which re-closed, and to
whom we ourselves might have been an object of curiosity. I therefore
sent word to the Sultâna, through Seïd Haschim, that we had come to pay
a visit to herself, and we now begged we might be permitted to pay our
respects to her. Upon which, soon afterwards, a strong wooden door, cased
with metal, which led from the inner chambers to the hall, opened wide,
and Nasr, with free and dignified steps, walked in. She was wrapped in
long, finely-woven linen, with coloured borders, and underneath she wore
wide, party-coloured trousers of a darker hue. The female household
followed her, eight or ten girls in white dresses, bordered with red, and
ornamented sandals. Nasr sat down before us in a friendly and natural
manner; she only sometimes drew her dress before her mouth and the lower
part of her face, an Oriental custom which is universal in Egypt among
women, but which is less practised in this country. She replied to the
salutations which I addressed to her through the Dragoman, with an
agreeable voice, but only remained a short time with us, and then again
retired through the same door.
We were now permitted to see the interior of the house, with the
exception of her own apartments, which were in a small adjoining house;
and we got upon the roof to have a view over the village. We afterwards
took a walk through the place, saw the well, which is lined with bricks
to the depth of 60 feet, and supplies a lukewarm water, which is more
insipid than that of the Nile, from which Nasr always has her own
drinking water fetched. We then turned back, intending to start, but
Nasr invited us to spend the night in Sorîba, as it was already too late
to return to Wed Médineh by daylight. We accepted the invitation, and
immediately a repast of cooked food was brought in, which was only a
preparation for the magnificent supper. The Sultâna, however, did not
allow herself to be seen again the whole evening. We remained in the
hall, and slept on the same cool cushions which had served us during the
day as a divan. The next morning, however, we were invited to visit her
in her own rooms. She was more willing to talk to-day than yesterday,
had European chairs placed for us, while her attendants and slave girls
squatted down round us. We told her about her name-sister, the Sultâna
Nasr of England, and exhibited her portrait to her on an English gold
coin, which she regarded with much curiosity. Nevertheless, she showed
very little desire to see with her own eyes that distant world beyond the
northern ocean.
About eight o’clock we rode back to Wed Médineh. Soon after our arrival
Seïd Haschim received a letter from Nasr, in which she asked him
confidentially whether I would accept a little slave girl from her,
as a gift to the stranger. I sent a message to inform her that this
was contrary to our customs, but that there would be no difficulty if,
instead of a slave girl, she would select a slave boy; and, after the
removal of some scruples, as this seemed to her less becoming, she really
sent a little slave boy, who was brought to me in our boat.
He had been the playmate of the Sultâna’s little grandson, the son of
her daughter Dauer, and was handed over to me with the name of REHÂN
(the Arabic designation for the sweet-scented basilicum). I was also
informed that he was born in the district of Makâdi, on the frontier of
Abyssinia, which generally furnishes the most intelligent and faithful
slaves. This district is under Christian domination, and is inhabited
both by Christians and Mohammedans, who are separated into different
villages. The former call themselves Nazâra (Nazarenes), or Amhâra
(Amharic Christians); the latter Giberta. Amongst the latter, children of
their own race, or that of their neighbours, are frequently stolen and
sold to Arabian slave-dealers; for in the central parts of Abyssinia the
slave trade is strictly interdicted. However, this account of the boy has
since proved incorrect, and perhaps was only meant to remove the obstacle
which some might find in offering me a Christian boy, while on the other
hand it would appear still more doubtful to hand over to me a native
Mohammedan. The boy himself first communicated to our Christian cook, and
afterwards to myself, that he was born of Christian parents, that he had
here for the first time received the name of Rehân, and that his real
name was Gabre Máriam, _i. e._ in Abyssinian, “the slave of Mary.” He
was born near Gondar, the capital of Amhâra. He appears to have belonged
to a family of some distinction, for the place called Bamba, which is
stated by Bruce to be in the neighbourhood of Lake Tzana, by his accounts
belonged to his grandfather; and his father, who now is dead, possessed
many herds, which the boy often drove, with others, to the pasture. One
day, above three or four years ago, when on such an expedition, at a
considerable distance from his dwelling-place, he was stolen by some
mounted Bedouins, carried off to the village of Waldakarel, and then sold
to King Idris Adlân; by him he was afterwards presented to his sister
Nasr. He is a pretty boy, very dark, and may be now between eight and
nine years old; but much more advanced than a child of this age would be
with us. The girls here marry from eight years old upwards. He wears his
hair in a peculiar manner, in innumerable little braids; these must, at
least once every month, be re-braided and daubed with grease, by a woman
skilled in the art; and his body also must from time to time be well
rubbed with grease. His entire clothing consists in a great white cloth,
which he binds round his hips, and throws upwards over the shoulders. I
call him now by his Christian name, and shall take him to Europe with me.
Seïd Haschim did all in his power to keep us some days longer in Wed
Médineh. The first evening he invited us to his house, with the Turks
of most distinction, and had a number of dancing-girls to show us the
national dances in these parts; they chiefly consist in contortions of
the upper part of the body and the arms, similar to what are represented
on the Egyptian monuments; but differ from the Egyptian dances of the
present day, which are chiefly limited to very ungraceful gestures.
A good-natured and very comical old man led on the dances, while he
at the same time sang some Arabic songs, with a piercing but not
disagreeable voice, which had reference to the assembled company, or to
persons of repute, such as Nasr, Idris Adlân, Mak (_i. e._ Melek), Bâdi,
&c.; and with his left hand touched the chords of a five-stringed lyre,
passing the plectrum over them in time with his right. His instrument
only embraced six tones of the octave. The first string on the right
hand had the highest tone, C, to be struck with the thumb, the string
immediately succeeding, the lowest tone, E; then followed the third, F;
the fourth, A; the fifth, B. The instrument is called RABABA, and the
performer on it REBÂBI. This man had been instructed by an old celebrated
Rebâbi in Schendi; he had made his instrument himself, after the model
of that belonging to his master, and had also acquired from him his
talent for making verses, and thus became the favourite black bard of Wed
Médineh. All the poetry of his songs had been composed by himself; they
were sometimes improvised, and whoever disobliged him or his patrons,
would probably be made the object of his satire.
I made him come to me the following morning, and, through Jussuf, write
down four of his poems in Arabic: one on Mohammed, the son of Mak Mesâʾd,
who resides in Metammeh; one upon King Nimr, who burnt Ismael Pascha,
and is still living in Abyssinia; a third on Nasr; and lastly, a song of
homage to pretty girls.[46] It is impossible to render these melodies
in our notes. I have only written down a small portion of them, which
in some measure approaches our mode of singing. They are generally half
recited, half carried down, with quivering tones, from the highest
notes to a deep and long-sustained tone. These are their most peculiar
characteristics, but they are quite incapable of being noted down. Each
verse contains four rhymes; the voice is retained lightly on each of
them, on the second more than on the first and third; but longest on
the last rhyme. The music always sinks at this point, and the same deep
tone recurs, which gives a certain character to the progressing song.
A particular recurrence of the melody may, indeed, also be noticed,
but this is impossible for a European ear to remember. I purchased
the instrument from the good-natured old man. He gave it unwillingly,
although I let him name his own price; and several times after he had
taken the money, and had laid down his instrument for it, an air of
anxious sorrow came over his expressive countenance. The following day
I bid him come to me again. He was depressed, and told me his wife had
given him a sound beating for having given his instrument away. Here it
is no disgrace for a man to be beaten by his wife, but it is so perhaps
in the reverse case. A woman who has been beaten goes at once to the
Cadi to complain; she then generally obtains justice, and the husband is
punished.
In Wed Médineh we were also present at a funeral ceremony, which seemed
a strange enough one to us. A woman had died three days before; the
day succeeding her death, the third, the seventh, and several days
afterwards are peculiarly solemnised. In front of the house, an hour
before sunset, above a hundred women and children had collected, and
more were constantly coming in, and cowered down beside the others. Two
daughters of the deceased were present, whose richly ornamented and
grease-besmeared heads they had already strewed with ashes, and had
rubbed the whole of the upper part of their bodies white with them, so
that their eyes and mouths alone shone forth clean, and, as it were, set
into the white mask. The women wore long cloths round their hips; the
young girls and children the Ráhat, a girdle composed of five strips of
leather, hanging down close together; this is usually bound round the
loins by a cord, prettily ornamented with shells and pearls, and it falls
half-way down the leg. There was a great wooden bowl with ashes, which
was repeatedly filled again with fresh ones. Female musicians cowered
down close on either side of the door uttering shrill screams, which
pierced our ears; they now clapped their hands together in time; now
struck the sounding DARA-BUKA (a kind of hand kettle-drum, called here
in the Sudan DALUKA); and now beat with sticks on some hollow gourds
floating in tubs of water. The two daughters, about eighteen or twenty
years of age, and the nearest relations, began, two and two, to move at
first slowly towards the door in a narrow passage between the constantly
increasing crowds; then suddenly shrill screams, clapping of hands,
and loud shrieks burst from them all at once; whereupon they turned
round, and began their fearfully contorted dancing. Bending the upper
part of their body in convulsive and strained twistings and turnings,
and slowly balancing themselves, they moved their feet forwards, then
suddenly threw their breasts upwards with violence and their heads back
on their shoulders, which they stretched out in all directions, and
thus, with half-closed eyes, gradually glided forwards. In this manner
they went down a slight incline of fifteen and twenty paces, where they
threw themselves on the ground, covered themselves with dust and earth,
and turned back again to re-commence the same dance. The younger of the
two daughters had a beautiful slight figure, with wonderful elasticity,
and when she stood quietly erect, or was lying on the ground with her
sunken head, her regular and gentle, though inanimate features, even
during the dance, and the classical form of her body, was exactly like
an antique statue. This dancing procession was repeated over and over
again. Each of the mourners is compelled at least to go through this
once, and the nearer the relationship so much the more frequently is it
repeated. Whoever cannot immediately force her way up to the vessel of
ashes, takes them from the head of her neighbour to strew it on her own
head. In front of this squatting assembly some women are cowering, who
understand how to sob loudly and to shed profuse tears, which leave long
black streaks on their white-rubbed cheeks. The most striking, and the
most repelling, part of this spectacle is, that nothing is done from
unrestrained sorrow, but all with deliberation, with a degree of pathos,
and evidently studied; children as young as four and five years old are
placed in the procession, and if they perform the difficult and unnatural
movements well, their mothers, who are cowering behind, call out to them
_taib, taib_—_i. e._ bravo! well done! In the second act, however, of
this ceremony, rendered peculiarly stunning by its continual clapping,
screaming, and shrieking, all the dancers throw themselves into the
dust, and tumble down the hill; but this they also do slowly, and with
deliberation, carefully drawing up their knees to their bodies, to hold
their dresses with them, and also crossing their arms; they then roll
down, over knees and back. This ceremony begins one hour before sunset,
and lasts till night.
The unnatural feeling pervading the whole proceeding makes an
indescribable impression, which is rendered still more disagreeable by
seeing nothing in all of it but an inherited and perverted custom, an
empty spectacle; not a trace of individual truth and natural sentiment
can be perceived in the persons who participate; and yet the comparison
between this and certain descriptions and representations of similar
festivals among the ancients, teaches us to understand much, of which
judging by our own manner of life, we can never form a correct notion,
till we have once seen with our eyes such caricatures of metamorphoses as
are here and there exhibited in the East.
The following day we visited the hospital, which we found very cleanly,
and in good order; it holds a hundred patients, but there were then
only eight-and-twenty within it. We then went to the barracks, in the
large court-yard of which the men are exercised. The commanding officer
ordered out the band of music, and they played several pieces before
us. The first was the Parisienne, which sounded most strangely in this
country, as well as the succeeding pieces, most of them French, and
known to me; they were, however, tolerably well executed. The musicians
performed almost solely on European instruments, and have also admitted
the name of our trumpet into their Arabic musical language, but have
transferred it to the drum, which they call _trumbêta_, while for the
trumpet they have a peculiar name of their own, _nafir_; they call
their great flute _sumára_, the small one _sufára_, and the great drum
_tabli_. There were only twelve hundred soldiers present belonging to the
regiment, which consists of four thousand men, almost all negroes, whose
black faces staring out of their white linen uniform and red-tasselled
caps, made them look like dressed-up monkeys, only much more unhappy
and oppressed. The negroes are incapable of any military discipline and
regular exertion, and generally sink beneath the imposed yoke. We did
not, however, suspect that these same people would two days afterwards
rebel in a body, and set off to their hills.
Emin Pascha was expected hourly. But on the 13th I received in the
morning a letter from him, from Messelemîeh, between four and five hours
distant from this place, in which he wrote that he should not come to Wed
Médineh before the following day, and hoped to find us still there. He
at the same time informed me that the war in Taka was over, and that all
had submitted. Several hundred natives had been killed in skirmishes; the
morning before the chief battle, all the Sheikhs of the tribes from Taka
had come to the Pascha to sue for pardon, which he had granted them, on
condition that no fugitive should venture to remain in the great wood,
which was their chief place of refuge. The following morning he had the
wood searched, and as nobody was discovered in it, he had it set on fire,
and entirely burnt to the ground. On his journey back, he intends to pass
through the eastern districts to Katârif, on the Abyssinian frontier,
and thence to go to the Blue River. We had scarcely read this news
from Taka, when we heard the sound of cannon in front of the barracks
announcing the victorious message to the population round.
In another letter, which had gone to Emin Pascha instead of me, Herr
von Wagner gave me the pleasing intelligence that our new companion,
the painter Georgi, had arrived from Italy, and had already started for
Dongola, where he waits for further orders. I shall write to him to come
as far as Barkal to meet us.
As we were certain by this letter of finding the Pascha still in
Messelemîeh, we started for that place about mid-day; and as the town is
situated an hour and a half distant from the Nile, we made the journey by
land.
The boat, meanwhile, was to follow us to the harbour of Messelemîeh, that
is to say, to the nearest landing-place of this most important of the
commercial towns of the whole Sudan. Besides Jussuf, we took with us the
Kawass and Gabre Máriam, who sat behind me on the dromedary, where there
is always left a small place for a servant, like a coach-box behind the
carriage; he sits on the narrow hinder part of the animal, and holds on
to the saddle with both his hands. It was hot, and the ground was parched
up. The few birds which I saw were different from those which habitually
inhabit the banks of the river.