Having then entered a district where more dúm-bush appeared, we ascended

a sandy ridge, from whence we beheld, in front of us, an extensive sheet

of water, stretching out to a distance of several miles, its surface

agitated by a strong breeze, and with tall reeds forming its border. It

is called Nyéngay by the Fúlbe, and Isse-énga by the Tawárek, and is in

connection with the branches of Bámbara and Káñima, winding along from

here by way of Gálaye to the latter place, and from thence by way of

Délego to Sarayámo, and thus opening an uninterrupted navigable canal,

at least during the highest state of the inundation; but it is said to

be dreaded by the boatmen of the frail native craft, who never dare to

cross it in a storm. It seemed, in a south-westerly direction, from six

to eight miles across, but towards the north-west it became contracted

in such a manner, that at the narrowest place only two canoes can sail

abreast; after which it turned away, and could not be further surveyed

from this point.

Having followed the border of this fine and imposing sheet of water,

where numbers of people were catching fish, for about a mile and a half,

we ascended the sandy downs on our right, and soon reached the

encampment of Mohammed, the chief of the Kél-e’-súk, who a few days

previously had paid me a visit in Bámbara. Here I had to give away

several more of my effects, but we were treated most hospitably, and

even sumptuously, and besides two enormous bowls full of rice and meat,

swimming in an immense quantity of butter, a whole ox was slaughtered

for us. The site of the encampment was very beautiful, and I walked for

a long time about the downs, which were adorned with a rich profusion of

trees of the acacia kind, and offered an interesting prospect over the

lake; but the ensuing night was most miserably spent on account of the

numerous swarms of mosquitoes which infested the encampment.

[Sidenote: August 26th.]

We were very early in motion, but a heavy thunder-storm which gathered

from the south-east delayed our departure, although, taking into account

the slow rate at which I was here obliged to travel, it was a matter of

total indifference whether we started early or late, as I was quite in

the hands of my friend the Waláti, who stopped wherever he had any

business to transact, and did not set out again until he had concluded

his bargain. The rain clouds then taking a more northerly direction, we

at length set out, pursuing our track over the hilly country, and while

we lost sight of the lake of Nyéngay on our left, soon discovered on our

right another but smaller sheet of water called Gérru. The Nyéngay is

said to be full of water all the year round; but the Gérru becomes dry

in summer, when the inhabitants of Sarayámo repair hither in order to

cultivate their rice-fields, the rice ripening with the rising waters,

and being cut shortly before the river attains the highest state of

inundation.

Having left these interesting sheets of water behind us, we traversed a

district more richly adorned with acacias, and crossed a valley where

the siwák, or _Capparis sodata_ (a bush which I scarcely remembered to

have seen since my return from Kánem), was growing in great exuberance,

besides numbers of gerredh, or the useful _Acacia nilotica_, but we

searched in vain for water. The country also which we traversed from

here onwards was chiefly clothed with the _Capparis_ and the _Mimosa

nilotica_, besides a good deal of dúm-bush; but, further on, we emerged

from this undulating tract into an open swampy ground, at present

tolerably dry, and covered with rich herbage, while we left on our right

the site of the formerly important town Sáma-koira[80], which once

lorded it over a considerable territory till it was destroyed by the

Tawárek, when the remnant of its population escaped towards Bamba and

Ghágo.

In these open swampy meadow grounds, girt by a dense belt of gerredh,

where no Arab would think of pitching his tent, was the encampment of

the chief Somki, with his family and his followers (the tents of the

kind I have described being just pitched), and his numerous herds of

cattle grazing right and left, besides about twenty camels. We found the

chief reclining on his “teshégit” or divan of reeds, and as soon as he

beheld us, he rose and saluted El Waláti and me. He was a man of middle

stature, and of tolerably stout proportions, his white beard, which

looked forth from under the lithám, giving him a highly respectable

appearance. He, however, did not show us any signs of hospitality, which

vexed me the more, as, besides the considerable presents which I had

sent to him a few days before, I had now again to make him another one,

consisting of two túrkedís and a háf; but I soon found that he was not

aware of the former presents having been sent by me.

Being an intelligent man, who had had dealings with a great many people,

he had some slight suspicion that I was not what my companions

represented me to be. While I was sitting in my tent reading attentively

a passage referring to these regions in the excellent little book of Mr.

Cooley on the Negroland of the Arabs, which has rendered me very great

assistance in directing my inquiries in these countries, he made his

appearance very abruptly, and seemed rather surprised at finding me

reading characters which he well knew were not Arabic; but,

nevertheless, he suppressed his suspicions. Perhaps in consequence of

the intrigues of El Waláti, he laid claims to the horse which I myself

rode. The eagerness of the women hereabout to obtain tobacco was very

remarkable, and they pestered my servants during a great part of the

night.

[Sidenote: Saturday, August 27th.]

We set out on our last day’s journey by land, in order to reach the

place where we were to embark on the river. Having emerged from the low

swampy ground, we entered again sandy downs, principally clothed with

háskanít, damankádda, and bú-rékkeba or _Panicum colonum_, and, having

left on one side a smaller channel, we reached the branch of Fatta,

which extends almost as far as Sarayámo, running parallel to several

other creeks, called after the villages Kásba, Haibóngo, and Benesénga,

which intersect the district named Bóddu.

The water at first formed a narrow irregular channel of about 200 yards

wide, very much resembling an artificial canal, as is the case with a

great many of these backwaters, but gradually it began to widen,

affording excellent soil for the cultivation of rice. Between this

channel and the river, there are several other branches, which appear to

join the creek which I navigated from Sarayámo. Altogether, in this

level part of the Niger, the river appears to spread out in a labyrinth

of channels and watercourses. As for the rice which was grown here

exclusively, it appeared to have been just sown with the assistance of

the dew, which suffices for its growth till the river rises and spreads

its inundation.

Here we passed a small village inhabited by a Tárki, or rather

Kél-e’-súki, of the name of Mohammed Bonyámi, who has settled here with

his property, and who, while we passed by, came out of his hut, and,

astonished at my unusual appearance, and delighted at seeing a stranger

from such a distance, entreated me in the kindest manner to stay with

him a short time, so that I had in consequence great difficulty in

pursuing my march. He was a very decent and venerable-looking old man,

of short stout figure, and with benevolent features, but his dress was

of the simplest kind, consisting of a white tobe and a black shawl. A

good many horses were pasturing hereabout, but not, as it would seem, to

the advantage of the rice grounds, as they fed mostly on the young

shoots. Having then left this watercourse at some distance on our right,

we reached three miles further on the town of Sarayámo, the chief place

in the province of Kíso. A great many people being here collected at the

news of our arrival, we fired a salute with our pistols, and after a

little search, owing to the very low entrances of most of the huts which

would not admit my luggage, obtained tolerable quarters.

The town of Sarayámo is formed by an inner city, kasr or “koira,”

consisting of clay dwellings, very narrow and uncomfortable; and a large

suburb on the east side formed of huts of large size, but all of them

with very low doors. The courtyard where I was quartered was situated at

the western border of this eastern suburb, on a sloping ground,

descending towards a small ravine which separates the suburb from the

kasr, and contained at the time a small quantity of dirty water. This

situation had the disadvantage that, from the opposite slope, everything

that was done in my courtyard could be observed, and there were a great

many curious people, especially among the rising generation, who

obtruded not a little on my privacy.

I had scarcely made myself comfortable, when I received a great number

of visits; and it was not long before Mohammed Bonyámi arrived, mounted

on a white mare. As El Waláti had persuaded me to take only one horse to

Timbúktu, I sent two of my animals with this man to remain with him

until my leaving that place, while I also intrusted to his care my five

camels, to be taken to a brother of his.

While I was conversing with these people, my friend the Háj Búda arrived

also, with whom I continued to pass for a Syrian sheríf, although he

thought it strange that I would not say my prayers with him in the

courtyard.

[Sidenote: Sunday, August 28th.]

Having enjoyed a good night’s rest, tolerably free from mosquitoes, as I

had shut my hut at an early hour, I took a walk down to the river, the

morning being, as usual, cool and fresh, and a slight breeze having

sprung up. The bank on which the town stands was, at present, from

twenty-five to thirty feet above the level of the river; but this

elevation is of course greatly diminished by the rising of the

inundation, the river reaching generally to the very border of the

village. That branch which is not in direct connection with the water of

Fatta, along which our last day’s march had lain, had no current, and

was about 200 yards in breadth. The communication by water along these

shallow backwaters of the immense Niger just opening (for in the dry

season the connection is interrupted), only one sea-worthy boat was

lying here at the time, neither conspicuous for its size nor for its

comfortable arrangement, and with two cabins of matting, one in the prow

and one in the stern, while another boat, measuring forty feet by eight,

was just repairing. All the craft are built of planks sewed or tied

together in a very bungling manner.

I learned, on this occasion, that it is only at this season of the year

that people go from here to Timbúktu, which lies almost exactly north

from this place, by an eastern winding; while later in the season they

follow a westerly branch. A labyrinth of creeks, backwaters, and

channels is in this manner spread over the whole of this country, of

which people had no previous idea.

I had scarcely returned to my quarters, when the governor, or emír, of

the place came to pay me a visit. This man, whose name was ʿOthmán, was

a cheerful kind of person. He stands in direct subjection to the chief

of Hamda-Alláhi, without being dependent upon any other governor; and

his province comprises some other places in the neighbourhood, such as

Fatta, Horeséna, and Kabéka. Having made strict inquiries with regard to

the present state of affairs in Stambúl, and having asked the news

respecting the countries of the East in general, he left me, but

returned again in the course of the afternoon, accompanied by the chief

persons in the town, in order to solicit my aid in procuring rain. After

a long conversation about the rainy season, the quantity of rain which

falls in different countries, and the tropical regions especially[81], I

felt myself obliged to say before them the “fat-há,” or opening prayer

of the Kurán; and, to their great amusement and delight, concluded the

Arabic prayer with a form in their own language,—“Alla hokki

ndíam,”—which, although meaning originally “God may give water,” has

become quite a complimentary phrase, so that the original meaning has

been almost lost, few people only being conscious of it. It so happened

that the ensuing night a heavy thunder-storm gathered from the east,

bringing a considerable quantity of rain, which even found its way into

my badly thatched hut. This apparent efficacy of my prayer induced the

inhabitants to return the following day, to solicit from me a repetition

of my performance; but I succeeded in evading their request by exhorting

them to patience. But, on the other hand, I was obliged, in addition to

a strong dose of emetic, to give the governor my blessing, as he was

going to the capital, and was rather afraid of his liege lord the young

prince Áhmedu, while at the same time his overbearing neighbours the

Tawárek inspired him with a great deal of fear. In the sequel, he was

very well received in the capital, and therefore could not complain of

the inefficacy of my inspiration; but nevertheless, not having had the

slightest suspicion that I was not what I represented myself to be, he

was much shocked when he afterwards learned that I was a Christian, to

the great amusement of the Sheikh el Bakáy, who wrote to him repeatedly

to the effect that he ought to be well pleased that so wicked a person

as a Christian had procured him, not only rain, but even a good

reception from his superior.

The town is tolerably flourishing, and the Fúlbe inhabitants, at least,

possess a great number of horses. We counted, one evening, ninety

returning from the pasture-grounds, while a good many more remained

outside at a greater distance. The Fúlbe here belong to the following

tribes: Urománge, Rilámbe, Oromanábe, Koirábe, Feroibe, Balámbe,

Orohábe, and Úrube. The whole population of the place may amount to

about 5000; but there did not appear to be many manufactures; even the

native cloth, so well woven by the Songhay, is not manufactured here.

The situation of the town at this navigable branch, however, produces

some activity, although no regular market appears to be held: and, the

second day of my stay here, a large boat arrived from Timbúktu, with

eighteen rás (a piece weighing about sixty pounds) of salt, a large

parcel of tobacco, and a good number of passengers. Shells have currency

here, and I bought rice for fourteen hundred shells and a túrkedí, at

the rate of forty shells for each sʿaa, or measure. Rice constitutes the

chief article of food, although on the west side of the town some negro-

corn is cultivated. Milk is plentiful.

The town of Dár-e’-salám, or Dári, the residence of ʿAbd-e’-rahmán, the

son of Mohammed Lebbo, lying on the bank of the river itself, is at a

distance of thirteen hours on horseback from here, equal to about thirty

miles, by way of Taíba.

Having succeeded in hiring the boat which had come from Timbúktu for the

exclusive use of my own party, for 10,000 shells, I prepared my luggage,

which, although now greatly reduced from the respectable bulk which it

presented when setting out from Kátsena, was still sufficient to inspire

me with the hope that I might succeed in securing the friendship of the

more influential chiefs of these regions: and in the evening of the last

day of August I went on board of my small craft, and passed there a very

comfortable night. The river, during the time of my residence in the

place, had risen considerably, and soon promised to open the

communication by the western branch.

[Sidenote: Thursday, September 1st.]

After a good deal of delay, we at length began our voyage about a

quarter before eight in the morning; and I felt my spirits greatly

cheered when I found myself floating on this river, or backwater, which

was to carry me all the way to the harbour of Timbúktu. The river near

the town forms a fine open sheet, widening to about 300 yards; but

further on, as we were winding along in a north-easterly direction, it

was greatly obstructed with rank grass, or rather býrgu, which very

often covered the water entirely, so that the boat seemed to glide along

a grassy plain. It was quite out of the question to use oars. We were

therefore reduced to the necessity of proceeding with poles, generally

moving at the rate of two miles and a third an hour, but very often

less. Besides the býrgu, which constitutes the chief fodder for horse

and cattle in all the districts along the Niger, and which even

furnishes man with the sweet beverage called “ménshu” and a sort of

honey called “kartu,” white water-lilies, or _Nymphæa Lotus_, were in

great quantities; and, between the latter, the waterplant “serranfúsa,”

which, being about ten inches long, floats on the water without having

its roots fixed in the ground. But, after a voyage of about three miles,

we emerged from the reedy water of Sarayámo into a more open branch,

said to be that of Bámbara, which here joined it. According to some of

my informants, this water is identical with the Gérru, which I have

mentioned on a former occasion. Here the eastern bank became quite free

from reed-grass, while a herd of gazelles was to be seen near the shore;

the western bank, meanwhile, being adorned with numerous dúm-palms,

gáwo, and tamarind trees, or, as they are called here, busúsu; while,

further on, the ascending ground was covered with “tunfáfia” (_Asclepias

gigantea_), “retem” (or broom), and “damankádda.” But after a while,

when rank grass again began to prevail, this arm also became greatly

obstructed, being separated by the grass into several branches. The

water being only from five to seven feet deep, we proceeded rather

slowly onward, winding along in a northerly direction, at times

diverging more to the west, at others more to the east; till about an

hour after noon we reached the small town of Fatta, situated on the

eastern shore, and surrounded by extensive rice-grounds, where the

people were busy with the labours of the field.

The river here changes its direction to the west, being probably joined

by another branch, which, however, I did not see, and we began steering

in that direction, soothing our disappointment at not moving directly

towards the object of our voyage with the animated songs of our boatmen,

who accompanied the movements of their oars with a barbarous, but not

unmelodious, account of the deeds of the great Áskia. A great many herds

of cattle were to be seen on the left or southern side of the river, and

gave life to the scenery. Our living also was not so bad, a couple of

fine fishes, which we had succeeded in buying from some fishermen,

having been prepared over the fire and affording us an excellent dinner.

The farther we proceeded onward the more the channel widened, becoming

free from reeds, although occasionally adorned by a floating layer of

water-lilies. However, beyond the village of Gurijígge, or Guridígge,

the current became so strong that, in order to avoid it, we chose rather

to enter the reeds, which broke the force of the water. It is natural

that, as this is not a river of itself fed by its own sources, but

merely a backwater caused by the overflow of the great river, the

current in general must come from the latter, and proceed inland.

Having kept for some time along the reed-grass of the southern shore in

a winding direction, we again emerged into open water, where the poles

of our boatmen, which measured about eighteen feet in length, found no

bottom; and we kept steadily on, although occasionally quite alarmed by

our south-westerly direction, which threatened to carry us rather to

Hamda-Alláhi than to Timbúktu; till at length, a few miles on this side

of the town of Goilo, we changed our direction to W.N.W., and, passing

some floating reed islands, seemed to be in a fair direction to reach

the chief object of our journey. But a storm that had been gathering

induced us with the approach of night to moor the boat in a wide grassy

creek of the eastern shore, in order to shelter ourselves from the

strong wind, which easily upsets this light craft. Four fishing-boats

were lying not far from us, and with their lights gave us a feeling of

society; but the numerous swarms of mosquitoes molested us not a little,

and the barking of an animal in the water greatly excited my curiosity.

On inquiry, I learned that it proceeded from the young alligators, or

rather zangway.

These boats have no means of approaching the shallow shore. Hence it is

necessary for the passengers, two or three times a day, to wade through

deep water backwards and forwards. This, coupled with the great quantity

of water continually filling the bottom of these boats, is the reason

why all the people who travel along the Niger are subject to rheumatism.

The governor of Sáy, as I have already mentioned, in consequence of his

voyage up the river to Gágho, had become quite lame.

[Sidenote: Friday, September 2nd.]

It was a quarter to seven o’clock in the morning when we left the sea of

reeds in which we had moored our vessel, which, in the absence of an

anchor, is done by fixing a pole on each side of the prow, and one at

the stern of the boat. We began our day’s voyage by slowly gliding along

the river, by the strength of a local current, which ran at the rate of

about two miles an hour; but soon our boatmen began to make use of their

oars, and we advanced with more rapidity. The open channel was here

quite close to the eastern shore, the uniform level of which was broken

by a hilly eminence covered with fine fields of millet, when we saw upon

our left a smaller arm of the considerable channel running from the

south-west. This, on inquiry, I found was in connection with that very

watercourse which, at a later season, forms the general high road of

those people who go from Sarayámo to Timbúktu. Even at this season of

the year this branch is preferred by those who come from the north.

Having passed this branch we halted awhile at the western shore, where,

at a short distance inland, there is a small village called Koito,

surrounded by fine trees.

After a short delay we set out again on our zigzag voyage, while one of

our boatmen, his harpoon in hand, proceeded on a fishing expedition.

From a wide open water we soon got into a narrow channel, while the

grassy expanse spread out on each side to a great extent; and, making

our way with great difficulty, we emerged into a wide open branch, much

more considerable than the one along which our course had lain, it being

the principal trunk of the westerly watercourse of Sarayámo. As soon as

we had entered it, some large specimens of the alligator tribe afforded

proofs of a more extensive sheet of water, while the current, which at

first was running against us, was so considerable that we advanced

rather slowly. The whole breadth of the river or channel, forming one

large unbroken sheet of water, was certainly not less than from 600 to

700 yards, while the depth in the midst of the channel, at least as far

as I had an opportunity of judging from the poles of our boatmen,

measured fourteen feet and a half, and at times even as much as

eighteen, and probably more. The banks were enlivened by men and horses,

and we passed an encampment of herdsmen with their cattle. The western

shore especially was adorned with a profusion of dúm-palms, besides fine

tamarind trees, sarkakáya, and others of unknown species. Thus

repeatedly delayed by shifting sands obstructing the channel of the

river, we moved on in a tolerably direct northerly course, till we

reached the village of Menesengay, situated on sandy downs about twenty

feet high, beyond a deep gulf of the westerly shore. The low grassy

ground on the eastern side formed the place of resort for numbers of

pelicans, and the lower ground emerging at present only three feet out

of the water, was enlivened by numbers of water-birds, which were

looking out greedily for their prey.

Here we again changed our course, following a great many windings, but

proceeding generally in an easterly direction. But now the watercourse

began to exhibit more and more the character of a noble river, bordered

by strongly marked banks, clad with fine timber, chiefly tamarind and

kaña trees, and occasionally enlivened by cattle. Our voyage was very

delightful, gliding, as we were, smoothly along the surface of the

water, and keeping mostly in the middle of the noble stream, our boatmen

only changing their course once to touch at the northern shore, in order

to procure for a few shells the luxury of some kola nuts, of which even

these poor people were by no means insensible. At length, having passed

between the villages of Haibóngu on the northern, and Dára-kaina on the

southern, shore, we again exchanged our south-easterly direction for a

more northerly one, proceeding along a very broad watercourse; but,

after a while, the open water was broken by a broad grassy island, which

left only a small channel on the west side, while that on the east was

of tolerable width. Meanwhile the evening was approaching, and we met

with several delays, once in order to buy some fish, and another time on

account of our boatmen having lost their harpoon, with which they

occasionally endeavoured to catch some large species of fish which were

swimming alongside our boat. They were very dexterous in diving,

although it required some time for them to ascertain the spot where the

slender instrument had been fixed in the bottom. This harpoon was

exactly similar to the double spear used by some divisions of the Batta,

one of the tribes of Ádamáwa, such as the Bágelé, and even by some of

the inhabitants of Bórnu.

We had now entered a splendid reach of the river, which, almost free

from reeds, extended in an easterly direction, and we glided pleasantly

along the smooth water at a short distance from the northern bank, which

was thickly clad with trees; till at length, darkness setting in, we

struck right across the whole breadth of the river, which now, in the

quiet of the evening, spread out its smooth unrippled surface like a

beautiful mirror, and which at this place was certainly not less than

1000 yards broad, straight for the evening fires of the village Banáy,

which was situated on the opposite bank, and we moored our vessel at the

north-easterly bend of the gulf round which the town is situated. Most

of our party slept on shore, while others made themselves as comfortable

as possible in the boat, and on the top of the matting which formed the

cabins.

Here we awoke the next morning with a beautiful clear sky, and quietly

enjoyed for a few hours the fine river scenery, bordered by a rich belt

of vegetation, while our boatmen endeavoured to replace one of their

poles, which they had broken, by a new one, and after some time

succeeded in getting one which measured twenty-one feet. The town or

village itself is inhabited by Songhay and Fúlbe, the latter being in

possession of numerous flocks and herds. The cattle being just collected

on the sandy beach near the river, were milked soon after sunrise, and

furnished me with a draught of that delicious beverage, which must

always constitute one of the greatest luxuries to a European traveller

in these countries.

The chief part of the village extended along the bay to the south, at

the point where we had moored our boat; but there was a suburb of

detached huts, chiefly inhabited by Tawárek, and this part of the shore

was beautifully adorned with large trees. When we at length continued

our voyage, we observed also a great many dúm-palms, which served to

further embellish the country, while kadéña, or tóso, seemed to form the

staple produce of the inhabitants, and thickly lined the shores. The

scenery was the more interesting, as, besides boys who were playing in

the water, a numerous herd of cattle were just swimming across the

river, which to animals not accustomed to such a task, would have been

rather a difficult undertaking; and, even as it was, the people who

accompanied them in boats had some difficulty in inducing them to

continue their fatiguing trip when they once began to feel exhausted,

especially as they were accompanied by their young calves. However, in

these regions along the Niger, with its numerous channels, backwaters,

and swamps, man as well as beast must be accustomed to swimming. I took

great pains to discover whether there was any current here, but I did

not succeed in ascertaining the fact; and altogether, in this network of

creeks and backwaters, the current seems to be very uncertain, going in

on one side and out on the other, notwithstanding that we were now

approaching the trunk of the river, following in general a northerly

direction with a slight westerly deviation. The gradually sloping bank

was here covered with the dense rich bush called bógina by the Songhay.

But at present these shores, once animated with the bustle of many

larger and smaller villages of the native Songhay, were buried in

silence and solitude, a turbulent period of almost 200 years having

succeeded to the epoch when the great Songhay king, Mohammed el Háj

Áskia, held the whole of these regions under his powerful sway. No less

than four dwelling-places[82] along this tract of the river had been

destroyed on one and the same day by the father of Galáijo, the prince

whom we had met on our journey a short distance from Sáy. A solitary

antelope, with her young, was the only living being in the present state

of desolation that we observed during several hours’ navigation, but the

banks were occasionally lined with fine trees. Besides the tamarind

tree, a tree called bógi appeared in great quantities; it bears a yellow

fruit about the size of a pear, having four or five large kernels, and

which, on account of its pleasant acid taste, afforded us a very

refreshing treat.

Having met with a short delay, in consequence of a thunderstorm which

brought us but little rain, we observed the island of Kóra, which lies

at the mouth of this channel, and the main river ahead of us, the water

increasing in breadth, while one arm branches off round the south-

western part of the island, presenting here the appearance of an inland

sea. But we had scarcely caught a glimpse of the great river itself,

when a second and heavier thunderstorm, which had long been gathering,

threatened to break forth, and obliged us to seek shelter in the grassy

eastern shore of the main. We had scarcely fastened the boat, when the

rain came down in torrents, and lasted with great violence for nearly

two hours, so that my berth was entirely swamped, and I remained in a

most uncomfortable state during the whole of the night.

[Sidenote: Sunday, September 4th.]

The weather having cleared up, we set out at an early hour, following a

north-easterly direction through an open water not obstructed by reeds,

but soon halted again for prayer near the green bushy shore; while from

the opposite side of the island of Kóra, the lowing of cattle, cackling

of fowls, and the voices of men were distinctly to be heard, the island

being still tolerably well inhabited and the people being said to

possess even a good number of horses. It was of considerable interest to

me here to fall into the course pursued by that very meritorious French

traveller, Réné Caillié, on his toilsome and dangerous journey through

the whole western part of the continent of Africa, from Sierra Leone to

Morocco; and it is an agreeable duty for me to confirm the general

accuracy of his account. Following close upon the track of the

enterprising and intelligent, but unfortunate Major Laing, who had been

assassinated two years previously on his desperate journey from

Timbúktu, Caillié naturally excited against himself the jealousy of the

English, to whom it could not but seem extraordinary that a poor

unprotected adventurer like himself should succeed in an enterprise

where one of the most courageous and nobleminded officers of their army

had succumbed.

Gliding slowly along the channel, which here was about 600 yards in

width, and gradually exchanging the eastern shore for the middle of the

stream, we observed after a few miles’ advance the first river-horses,

or banga, that we had as yet seen in the Niger, carrying their heads out

of the water like two immense boxes, and rather frightening our boatmen,

who did not seem to relish a _tête-à-tête_ with these animals, till I

sent a ball after them.

Passing then the site of the former town of Gakoira, near which the

people were busy with the labours of the rice-fields, and having again

landed on the opposite shore, which was covered with numerous kalgo

trees, in order that the lazy boatmen might get their breakfast with

comfort and ease, we had to follow a large bend of the river where the

town of Danga is situated on the right, beyond a swampy low ground. This

is probably the same town so repeatedly mentioned in the interesting

records of Bábá Áhmed, especially as the residence of the Púllo chief,

Sambo Lámido, who at the period of the ruin of the Songhay empire was

the chief instrument in achieving that destruction. We then crossed from

here to the other side, and passed the town of Sanyáre on a projecting

headland, which at times appears to be changed into an island, and

containing, besides a good number of reed huts, even a few clay

dwellings. Here our people indulged in the hope of procuring some

tobacco, but were sadly disappointed, the natives being too much afraid

of their fanatical master, the Shékho Áhmedu ben Áhmedu.

Having left this village behind us, we entered a fine northerly reach

belonging to the branch which was finally to carry us into the great

river itself, and left the town of Sanyáre beyond the shallow sandbank,

conspicuous on account of a group of majestic tamarind trees. Here the

inhabitants wanted to barter some sour milk for negro corn, which to

them, with their ordinary diet of rice, seemed to be a luxury. Having

lost some time, we at length had the broad sheet of the Niger before us;

and here, at the point of junction, there started forth from the

easterly shore a group of solitary trees, which appeared to form the

usual nocturnal place of resort for all the water-fowl in the

neighbourhood, the trunk as well as the branches of the trees being

overlaid with a white crust formed by the droppings of these visitors,

which with animated cries were collecting together towards the close of

the evening. Having here left the shore, which at present formed a low

and bare headland, but which in the course of a month would be entirely

under water, we at once entered the middle of that magnificent river the

Ísa, or Máyo Balléo, running here from W. 35° S. to E. 35° N., which has

excited the lively curiosity of Europeans for so many years. It was at

this spot about a mile across, and by its magnitude and solemn

magnificence in the new moon which was rising in front of us, and with

the summer lightning at times breaking through the evening sky, inspired

my servants with real awe and almost fright; while we were squatting on

the shelving roof of our frail boat, and looked with searching eyes

along the immense expanse of the river in a north-easterly direction,

where the object of our journey was said to lie.

Whether from the excitement of the day, or from the previous night’s

wetting, when at length we lay to at the ancient Songhay town of

Koiretágo, which had once been a place of importance, but had been

almost destroyed by the Fúlbe in conjunction with the Tárki chief Somki,

I was seized with a severe attack of fever, but in order to take care of

my luggage I was unwilling to go on shore, where I might have lain down

on a fine sandy beach, choosing rather to remain on board our frail

boat.

[Footnote 79: See El Bekrí’s “Description of Africa,” ed. de Slane, p.

181. وعيشهم من اللحم اللبن ومن حب تنبته الارض من غير اعتمال.]

[Footnote 80: This is the name which the Songhay give to the place,

“koira” meaning “town” in the Songhay-kiní; while the Wangaráwa and the

Bámbara call it Sáma-kanda, “kanda” meaning “country” or “district” in

the Wákoré; and the Fúlbe, on account of the “swamp” which is formed

here, Winde Sáme.]

[Footnote 81: On this occasion I learned from the Háj of Tisít, who was

present, that in his desert town there are in general three falls of

rain every year.]

[Footnote 82: These places are Bango, Ujínne, Gakoira, and another one.]

CHAP. LXV.

ARRIVAL AT KÁBARA. — ENTRANCE INTO TIMBÚKTU.

[Sidenote: September 7th, 1853.]

Thus the day broke which, after so many months’ exertion, was to carry

me to the harbour of Timbúktu. We started at a tolerably early hour,

crossing the broad sheet of the river, first in a north-easterly, then

in an almost northerly direction, till finding ourselves opposite the

small hamlet Tásakal, mentioned by Caillié[83], we began to keep along

the windings of the northern bank which, from its low character,

presented a very varying appearance, while a creek, separating from

the trunk, entered the low ground. The river a month or two later in

the season inundates the whole country to a great distance, but the

magnificent stream, with the exception of a few fishing-boats, now

seemed almost tenantless, the only objects which in the present reduced

state of the country animated the scenery being a number of large boats

lying at anchor in front of us near the shore of the village Koróme.

But the whole character of the river was of the highest interest to

me, as it disclosed some new features for which I had not been

prepared; for, while the water on which Koróme was situated formed only

by far the smaller branch, the chief river, about three quarters of a

mile in breadth, took its direction to the south-east, separated from

the former by a group of islands called Day, at the headland of which

lies the islet of Tárashám.[84]

It was with an anxious feeling that I bade farewell to that noble river

as it turned away from us, not being sure whether it would fall to my

lot to explore its further course, although it was my firm intention at

the time to accomplish this task if possible. Thus we entered the branch

of Koróme, keeping along the grass which here grows in the river to a

great extent, till we reached the village, consisting of nothing but

temporary huts of reed, which, in the course of a few weeks, with the

rising of the waters, were to be removed further inland. Notwithstanding

its frail character, this poor little village was interesting on account

of its wharfs, where a number of boats were repairing. The master of our

own craft residing here (for all the boatmen on this river are serfs, or

nearly in that condition), we were obliged to halt almost an hour and a

half; but in order not to excite the curiosity of the people, I thought

it prudent to remain in my boat. But even there I was incommoded with a

great number of visitors, who were very anxious to know exactly what

sort of person I was. It was here that we heard the unsatisfactory news

that El Bakáy, whose name as a just and intelligent chief alone had

given me confidence to undertake this journey, was absent at the time in

Gúndam, whither he had gone in order to settle a dispute which had

arisen between the Tawárek and the Berabísh; and as from the very

beginning, when I was planning my journey to Timbúktu, I had based the

whole confidence of my success upon the noble and trustworthy character

which was attributed to the Sheikh El Bakáy by my informants, this piece

of information produced a serious effect upon me.

[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.

M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.

THE ÍSA (NIGER) AT KORÓME.

Sepr. 5th. 1853.]

At length we set out again on our interesting voyage, following first a

south-easterly, then a north-easterly direction along this branch,

which, for the first three miles and a half, retained some importance,

being here about 200 yards wide, when the channel divided a second time,

the more considerable branch turning off towards Yélluwa and Zegália,

and other smaller hamlets situated on the islands of Day, while the

watercourse which we followed dwindled away to a mere narrow meadow-

water, bearing the appearance of an artificial ditch or canal, which, as

I now heard, is entirely dry during the dry season, so that it becomes

impossible to embark directly at Kábara for places situated higher up or

lower down the river. But at that time I had formed the erroneous idea

that this canal never became navigable for more than four months in the

year, and thence concluded that it would have been impossible for

Caillié to have reached Kábara in his boat in the month of April. The

navigation of this water became so difficult, that all my people were

obliged to leave the boat, which, with great difficulty was dragged on

by the boatmen, who themselves entered the water and lifted and pushed

it along with their hands. But before we reached Kábara, which is

situated on the slope of a sandy eminence, the narrow and shallow

channel widened to a tolerably large basin of circular shape; and here,

in front of the town, seven good-sized boats were lying, giving to the

whole place some little life. Later in the season, when the channel

becomes navigable for larger boats, the intercourse becomes much more

animated. During the palmy days of the Songhay empire, an uninterrupted

intercourse took place between Gágho and Timbúktu on the one side, and

between Timbúktu and Jenni on the other, and a numerous fleet was always

lying here under the orders of an admiral of great power and influence.

The basin has such a regular shape, that it looks as if it were

artificial; but, nevertheless, it may be the work of nature, as Kábara

from the most ancient times has been the harbour of Timbúktu, and at

times seems even to have been of greater importance than the latter

place itself.

A branch of the river turns off to the east, without however reaching

the main trunk, so that in general, except when the whole country is

inundated, boats from Kábara which are going down the river must first

return in a south-westerly direction towards Koróme, in order to reach

the main branch. Even at the present time, however, when this whole

region is plunged into an abyss of anarchy and misrule, the scene was

not entirely wanting in life; for women were filling their pitchers or

washing clothes on large stones jutting out from the water, while a

number of idle people had collected on the beach to see who the stranger

was that had just arrived.

[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.

M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.

KÁBARA.

Sepr. 8th. 1853.]

At length we lay to, and sending two of my people on shore, in order to

obtain quarters, I followed them as soon as possible, when I was

informed that they had procured a comfortable dwelling for me. The house

where I was lodged was a large and grand building (if we take into

account the general relations of this country), standing on the very top

of the mound on the slope of which the town is situated. It was of an

oblong shape, consisting of very massive clay walls, which were even

adorned, in a slight degree, with a rude kind of relief; and it

included, besides two anterooms, an inner courtyard, with a good many

smaller chambers, and an upper story. The interior, with its small

stores of every kind, and its assortment of sheep, ducks, fowls, and

pigeons, in different departments, resembled Noah’s ark, and afforded a

cheerful sight of homely comfort which had been preserved here from more

ancient and better times, notwithstanding the exactions of Fúlbe and

Imóshagh.

Having taken possession of the two ante-rooms for my people and luggage,

I endeavoured to make myself as comfortable as possible; while the busy

landlady, a tall and stout personage, in the absence of her husband, a

wealthy Songhay merchant, endeavoured to make herself agreeable, and

offered me the various delicacies of her store for sale; but these were

extremely scanty, the chief attraction to us, besides a small bowl of

milk seasoned with honey, being some onions, of which I myself was not

less in want than my people for seasoning our simple food; but fresh

ones were not even to be got here, the article sold being a peculiar

preparation which is imported from Sansándi, the onions, which are of

very small size, being cut into slices and put in water, then pounded in

a wooden mortar, dried again, and, by means of some butter, made up into

a sort of round ball, which is sold in small pats of an inch and a half

in diameter for five shells each: these are called “láwashi” in

Fulfúlde, or “gabú” in the Songhay language. Besides this article, so

necessary for seasoning the food, I bought a little bulánga, or

vegetable butter, in order to light up the dark room where I had taken

up my quarters; but the night which I passed here was a very

uncomfortable one, on account of the number of mosquitoes which infest

the whole place.

Thus broke the 6th of September,—a very important day for me, as it was

to determine the kind of reception I was to meet with in this quarter.

But notwithstanding the uncertainty of my prospects, I felt cheerful and

full of confidence; and, as I was now again firmly established on dry

soil, I went early in the morning to see my horse, which had

successfully crossed all the different branches lying between Kábara and

Sarayámo; but I was sorry to find him in a very weak and emaciated

condition.

While traversing the village, I was surprised at the many clay buildings

which are to be seen here, amounting to between 150 and 200; however,

these are not so much the dwellings of the inhabitants of Kábara

themselves, but serve rather as magazines for storing up the merchandise

belonging to the people of, and the foreign merchants residing in,

Timbúktu and Sansándi. There are two small market-places, one containing

about twelve stalls or sheds, where all sorts of articles are sold, the

other being used exclusively for meat. Although it was still early in

the day, women were already busy boiling rice, which is sold in small

portions, or made up into thin cakes boiled with bulánga, and sold for

five shells each. Almost all the inhabitants, who may muster about 2000,

are Songhay; but the authorities belong to the tribe of the Fúlbe, whose

principal wealth consists of cattle, the only exception being the office

of the inspector of the harbour,—a very ancient office, repeatedly

mentioned by Áhmed Bábá,—which at present is in the hands of Múláy

Kásim, a sheríf whose family is said to have emigrated originally from

the Gharb or Morocco, but who has become so Sudánised that he has

forgotten all his former knowledge of Arabic. On account of the cattle

being driven to a great distance, I found that milk was very scarce and

dear. The inhabitants cultivate a little rice, but have some cotton,

besides bámia, or _Corchorus olitorius_, and melons of various

descriptions.

Having returned to my quarters from my walk through the town, I had to

distribute several presents to some people whom El Waláti chose to

represent as his brothers and friends. Having then given to himself a

new, glittering, black tobe of Núpe manufacture, a new “háf,” and the

white bernús which I wore myself, I at length prevailed upon him to set

out for the town, in order to obtain protection for me; for as yet I was

an outlaw in the country, and any ruffian who suspected my character

might have slain me, without scarcely anybody caring anything about it;

and circumstances seemed to assume a very unfavourable aspect: for there

was a great movement among the Tawárek in the neighbourhood, when it

almost seemed as if some news of my real character had transpired. Not

long after my two messengers were gone, a Tárki chief, of the name of

Knéha, with tall and stately figure, and of noble expressive features,

as far as his shawl around the face allowed them to be seen, but, like

the whole tribe of the Kél-hekíkan to which he belongs, bearing a very

bad character as a freebooter, made his appearance, armed with spear and

sword, and obtruded himself upon me while I was partaking of my simple

dish of rice; notwithstanding which, he took his seat at a short

distance opposite to me. Not wishing to invite him to a share in my poor

frugal repast by the usual “bismillah,” I told him, first in Arabic and

then in Fulfúlde, that I was dining, and had no leisure to speak with

him at present. Whereupon he took his leave, but returned after a short

while, and, in a rather peremptory manner, solicited a present from me,

being, as he said, a great chief of the country; but as I was not aware

of the extent of his power, and being also afraid that others might

imitate his example, I told him that I could not give him anything

before I had made due inquiries respecting his real importance from my

companion who had just gone to the town. But he was not at all satisfied

with my argument; representing himself as a great “dhálem,” or evil-

doer, and that as such he might do me much harm; till at length, after a

very spirited altercation, I got rid of him.

He was scarcely gone, when the whole house was filled with armed men,

horse and foot, from Timbúktu, most of them clad in light blue tobes,

tightly girt round the waist with a shawl, and dressed in short breeches

reaching only to the knee, as if they were going to fight, their head

being covered with a straw hat of the peculiar shape of a little hut

with regular thatchwork, such as is fashionable among the inhabitants of

Másina and of the provinces further west. They were armed with spears,

besides which some of them wore also a sword: only a few of them had

muskets. Entering the house rather abruptly, and squatting down in the

ante-chambers and courtyard, just where they could find a place, they

stared at me not a little, and began asking of each other who this

strange-looking fellow might be, while I was reclining on my two smaller

boxes, having my larger ones and my other luggage behind me. I was

rather at a loss to account for their intrusion, until I learned, upon

inquiry from my landlady, that they were come in order to protect their

cattle from the Tawárek, who at the time were passing through the place,

and who had driven away some of their property. The very person whom

they dreaded was the chief Knéha, who had just left me, though they

could not make out his whereabouts. Having refreshed themselves during

the hot hours of the day, these people started off; but the alarm about

the cattle continued the whole of the afternoon, and not less than 200

armed men came into my apartments in the course of an hour.

My messengers not returning at the appointed time from their errand to

the town, I had at length retired to rest in the evening, when shortly

before midnight they arrived, together with Sídi Álawáte, the Sheikh El

Bakáy’s brother, and several of his followers, who took up their

quarters on the terrace of my house in order to be out of the reach of

the mosquitoes; and after they had been regaled with a good supper,

which had been provided beforehand by some of the townspeople, I went to

pay my respects to them.

It was an important interview; for, although this was not the person for

whom my visit was specially intended, and whose favourable or

unfavourable disposition would influence the whole success of my arduous

undertaking, yet for the present I was entirely in his hands, and all

depended upon the manner in which he received me. Now my two messengers

had only disclosed to himself personally, that I was a Christian, while

at the same time they had laid great stress upon the circumstance that,

although a Christian, I was under the special protection of the Sultan

of Stambúl; and Sídi Álawáte inquired therefore of me, with great

earnestness and anxiety, as to the peculiar manner in which I enjoyed

the protection of that great Mohammedan sovereign.

Now it was most unfortunate for me that I had no direct letter from that

quarter. Even the firmán with which we had been provided by the Bashá of

Tripoli had been delivered to the governor for whom it was destined, so

that at the time I had nothing with me to show but a firmán which I had

used on my journey in Egypt, and which of course had no especial

relation to the case in question. The want of such a general letter of

protection from the Sultan of Constantinople, which I had solicited with

so much anxiety to be sent after me, was in the sequel the chief cause

of my difficult and dangerous position in Timbúktu; for, furnished with

such a letter, it would have been easy to have imposed silence upon my

adversaries and enemies there, and especially upon the merchants from

Morocco, who were instigated by the most selfish jealousy to raise all

sorts of intrigues against me.

Having heard my address with attention, although I was not able to

establish every point so clearly as I could have wished, the sheikh’s

brother promised me protection, and desired me to be without any

apprehension with regard to my safety; and thus terminated my first

interview with this man, who, on the whole, inspired me with a certain

degree of confidence, although I was glad to think that he was not the

man upon whom I had to rely for my safety. Having then had a further

chat with his telamíd or pupils, with whom I passed for a Mohammedan, I

took leave of the party and retired to rest in the close apartments of

the lower story of the house.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, September 7th.]

After a rather restless night, the day broke when I was at length to

enter Timbúktu; but we had a good deal of trouble in performing this

last short stage of our journey, deprived as we were of beasts of

burden; for the two camels which the people had brought from the town in

order to carry my boxes, proved much too weak, and it was only after a

long delay that we were able to procure eleven donkeys for the transport

of all my luggage. Meanwhile the rumour of a traveller of importance

having arrived had spread far and wide, and several inhabitants of the

place sent a breakfast both for myself and my protector. Just at the

moment when we were at length mounting our horses, it seemed as if the

Tárki chief Knéha was to cause me some more trouble, for in the morning

he had sent me a vessel of butter in order thus to acquire a fair claim

upon my generosity; and coming now for his reward, he was greatly

disappointed when he heard that the present had fallen into the hands of

other people.

It was ten o’clock when our cavalcade at length put itself in motion,

ascending the sandhills which rise close behind the village of Kábara,

and which, to my great regret, had prevented my obtaining a view of the

town from the top of our terrace. The contrast of this desolate scenery

with the character of the fertile banks of the river which I had just

left behind was remarkable. The whole tract bore decidedly the character

of a desert, although the path was thickly lined on both sides with

thorny bushes and stunted trees, which were being cleared away in some

places in order to render the path less obstructed and more safe, as the

Tawárek never fail to infest it, and at present were particularly

dreaded on account of their having killed a few days previously three

petty Tawáti traders on their way to Árawán. It is from the unsafe

character of this short road between the harbour and the town, that the

spot, about halfway between Kábara and Timbúktu, bears the remarkable

name of “Ur-immándes,” “he does not hear,” meaning the place where the

cry of the unfortunate victim is not heard from either side.

Having traversed two sunken spots designated by especial names, where,

in certain years when the river rises to an unusual height, as happened

in the course of the same winter, the water of the inundation enters and

occasionally forms even a navigable channel; and leaving on one side the

talha tree of the Welí Sálah, covered with innumerable rags of the

superstitious natives, who expect to be generously rewarded by their

saint with a new shirt, we approached the town: but its dark masses of

clay not being illuminated by bright sunshine, for the sky was thickly

overcast and the atmosphere filled with sand, were scarcely to be

distinguished from the sand and rubbish heaped all round; and there was

no opportunity for looking attentively about, as a body of people were

coming towards us in order to pay their compliments to the stranger and

bid him welcome. This was a very important moment, as, if they had felt

the slightest suspicion with regard to my character, they might easily

have prevented my entering the town at all, and thus even endangered my

life.

I therefore took the hint of Álawáte, who recommended me to make a start

in advance in order to anticipate the salute of these people who had

come to meet us; and putting my horse to a gallop, and gun in hand, I

galloped up to meet them, when I was received with many saláms. But a

circumstance occurred which might have proved fatal, not only to my

enterprise, but even to my own personal safety, as there was a man among

the group who addressed me in Turkish, which I had almost entirely

forgotten; so that I could with difficulty make a suitable answer to his

compliment; but avoiding farther indiscreet questions, I pushed on in

order to get under safe cover.

[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.

M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.

ARRIVAL AT TIMBÚKTU.

Septr. 7th. 1853.]

Having then traversed the rubbish which has accumulated round the ruined

clay wall of the town, and left on one side a row of dirty reed huts

which encompass the whole of the place, we entered the narrow streets

and lanes, or, as the people of Timbúktu say, the tijeráten, which

scarcely allowed two horses to proceed abreast. But I was not a little

surprised at the populous and wealthy character which this quarter of

the town, the Sáne-Gúngu, exhibited, many of the houses rising to the

height of two stories, and in their façade evincing even an attempt at

architectural adornment. Thus, taking a more westerly turn, and followed

by a numerous troop of people, we passed the house of the Sheikh El

Bakáy, where I was desired to fire a pistol; but as I had all my arms

loaded with ball I prudently declined to do so, and left it to one of my

people to do honour to the house of our host. We thus reached the house

on the other side of the street, which was destined for my residence,

and I was glad when I found myself safely in my new quarters.

But before describing my residence in this town, I shall make a few

general remarks with regard to the history of Songhay and Timbúktu.

[Footnote 83: Caillié’s Journey to Timbúktu, vol. ii. p. 30.]

[Footnote 84: “Tárashám” means a house or dwelling.]

CHAP. LXVI.

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON THE HISTORY OF SONGHAY AND TIMBÚKTU.

Previously to my journey into the region of the Niger, scarcely any data

were known with regard to the history of this wide and important tract,

except a few isolated facts, elicited with great intelligence and

research by Mr. Cooley[85] from El Bekrí, the history of Ebn Khaldún,

the obscure and confused report of Leo about the great Ischia, and the

barren statement of the conquest of Timbúktu and Gágho, or Gógo, by

Múláy Áhmed el Dhéhebi, as mentioned by some historians of Morocco and

Spain. But I myself was so successful as to have an opportunity of

perusing a complete history of the kingdom of Songhay, from the very

dawn of historical records down to the year 1640 of our era; although,

unfortunately, circumstances prevented my bringing back a complete copy

of this manuscript, which forms a respectable quarto volume, and I was

only able, during the few days that I had this manuscript in my hands

during my stay in Gandó, to make short extracts of those passages from

its contents which I thought of the highest interest in an historical

and geographical point of view.

These annals, according to the universal statement of the learned people

of Negroland, were written by a distinguished person of the name of

Áhmed Bábá, although in the work itself that individual is only spoken

of in the third person; and it would seem that additions had been made

to the book by another hand; but on this point I cannot speak with

certainty, as I had not sufficient time to read over the latter portion

of the work with the necessary attention and care. As for Áhmed Bábá, we

know from other interesting documents which have lately come to

light[86], that he was a man of great learning, considering the country

in which he was born, having composed a good many books or essays, and

instructed a considerable number of pupils. Moreover, we learn that he

was a man of the highest respectability, so that even after he had been

carried away prisoner by the victorious army of Múláy Áhmed el Dhéhebi,

his very enemies treated him with the greatest respect, and the

inhabitants of Morocco, in general, regarded him with the highest

veneration.[87]

This character of the author would alone be sufficient to guarantee the

trustworthiness of his history, as far as he was able to go back into

the past with any degree of accuracy, from the oral traditions of the

people, or from written documents of an older period: for that the

beginning of his annals, like that of every other nation, should be

enveloped in a certain degree of mystery and uncertainty is very

natural, and our author himself is prudent enough to pass over the

earlier part in the most rapid and cursory manner, only mentioning the

mere name of each king, except that he states the prominent facts with

regard to the founder of each dynasty. Nay, even what he says of the

founder of the dynasty of the Zá, allowance being made for the absurd

interpretation of names, which is usual with Arabs and Orientals in

general, and also the particulars which he gives with regard to Kilun,

or Kilnu, founder of the dynasty of the Sonni[88], is very

characteristic, and certainly true in the main. For there is no doubt

that the founder of the first dynasty immigrated from a foreign

country,—a circumstance which is confirmed by other accounts,— and

nothing is more probable than that he abolished the most striking

features of pagan superstition, namely, the worship of a peculiar kind

of fish, which was probably the famous ayú, or _Manatus_, of which I

have spoken on a former occasion[89], and of whose habitat in the waters

of the Niger I shall say more further on; while ʿAlí Killun succeeded in

usurping the royal power by liberating his country from the sovereignty

of the kings of Melle, who had conquered Songhay about the middle of the

fourteenth century. Nor can there be any doubt of the truth of the

statement that Zá-Kasí, the fifteenth king of the dynasty of the Zá,

about the year 400 of the Hejra, or in the beginning of the eleventh

century of our era, embraced Islám, and was the first Mohammedan king of

Songhay. No man who studies impartially those very extracts which I have

been able to make from the manuscript, in great haste and under the most

unfavourable circumstances, and which were translated and published in

the journal of the Leipsic Oriental Society[90] by Mr. Ralfs, can deny

that they contain a vast amount of valuable information. But the

knowledge which Europeans possessed of those countries, before my

discoveries, was so limited, as to render the greater part of the

contents of my extracts, which are intimately related to localities

formerly entirely unknown, or in connection with historical facts not

better ascertained, difficult of comprehension. But with the light now

shed by my journey and my researches over these regions and their

inhabitants, I have no hesitation in asserting that the work of Áhmed

Bábá will be one of the most important additions which the present age

has made to the history of mankind, in a branch which was formerly

almost unknown.

Áhmed Bábá, however, limits himself to the records of the political

relations of Songhay, and does not enter into any ethnological

questions, leaving us entirely in the dark as to the original seats of

the tribe; for while in general, on the banks of the Niger, the towns of

Tindírma and Díre are supposed to be the original seats of the Songhay,

Áhmed Bábá apparently restricts the limits of the ancient Songhay to the

eastern quarter around Kúkiya, stating distinctly[91] that the town of

Timbúktu was not under the authority of any foreign king before it

became subjected to the dominion of Kunkur-Músa, the celebrated king of

Melle. Yet from this statement we cannot conclude with absolute

certainty that the banks of the great river to the south-west of that

town were not comprised in the kingdom of Songhay before that period;

for Timbúktu, lying on the north side of the river, and being founded by

the Tawárek or Imóshagh, was an independent place by itself, and in the

beginning not closely connected with the history of the surrounding

region. It might easily have happened, therefore, that the Songhay

language was not at all spoken in Timbúktu at a former period, without

any conclusion being drawn from this circumstance respecting the country

to the south and south-west of the river. But although, according to

Áhmed Bábá’s account, the foundation of the place was entirely due to

the Imóshagh, it is probable that, from the very beginning, a portion of

the inhabitants of the town belonged to the Songhay nation[92]; and I

rather suppose, therefore, that the original form of the name was the

Songhay form Túmbutu, from whence the Imóshagh made Tumbýtku, which was

afterwards changed by the Arabs into Tumbuktu.[93]

But the series of chronological facts which we learn from Áhmed Bábá, or

from other sources, I shall give in a tabular form in the Appendix. Here

I will only draw the reader’s attention to a few of the most striking

facts, and make some general remarks on the character of that history.

It is very remarkable, that while Islám in the two larger westerly

kingdoms which flourished previously to that of Songhay,—I mean Ghána,

or Ghánata, and Melle,—had evidently emanated from the north, and

especially from Sijilmésa, Songhay appears to have been civilised from

the other side, namely, from Egypt, the intimate relation with which is

proved by many interesting circumstances, although, in a political

respect, it could only adopt the same forms of government which had been

developed already in Ghána and Melle; nay, we shall find even some of

the same titles. With respect to Ghána, we learn from Áhmed Bábá the

very interesting fact[94] that twenty kings were supposed to have ruled

over that kingdom at the time when Mohammed spread the new creed which

was to agitate and to remodel half of the globe.

The kingdom of Songhay, even after ʿAlí Killun had made it independent

of Melle, could not fail to remain rather weak and insignificant, as

even Timbúktu, and probably a great portion of the country to the east

of that town, was not comprised in its limits: nay, it even appears that

the kingdom was still, at times, dependent in a certain degree upon

Melle, the great kingdom on the upper course of the Niger; and it was

not until almost 150 years after the time of ʿAlí Killun that the

powerful king Sonni ʿAlí, the Sonni Héli of Leo Africanus, conquered

Timbúktu, wresting it, with immense slaughter, A.H. 894, A.D. 1488, from

the hands of the Tawárek, who had themselves conquered it from Melle.

This king, although he is represented by all the learned men of

Negroland as a very cruel and sanguinary prince, was no doubt a great

conqueror; for although it was he who, in taking possession of this

town, inflicted upon the inhabitants a most severe punishment,

surpassing even the horrors which had accompanied the taking of the town

by the king of Mósi, nevertheless it was he also who gave the first

impulse to the great importance which Timbúktu henceforth obtained, by

conquering the central seat of the old empire of Ghánata, and thus

inducing the rich merchants from the north, who had formerly been

trading with Bíru or Waláta, and who had even occasionally resided

there, to transfer their trade to Timbúktu and Gágho. It is the same

king, no doubt, that attracted the attention of the Portuguese, who, in

the reigns of Joâo and Emmanuel, sent several embassies into the

interior, not only to Melle[95], which at that time had already greatly

declined in power and importance, but also to Timbúktu, where Sonni ʿAlí

seems to have principally resided; and it was perhaps partly on account

of the relations which he entertained with the Christian king (to whom

he even opened a trading station as far inland as Wadán or Hóden),

besides his cruelty against the chiefs of religion, that the Mohammedans

were less satisfied with his government; for there is no doubt that he

was not a strict Mohammedan.

It was Háj Mohammed Áskia who founded the new homonymous dynasty of the

Áskia, by rising against his liege lord, the son of Sonni ʿAlí, and,

after a desperate struggle, usurping the royal power; and,

notwithstanding the glorious career of that great conqueror, we may

fancy we can see in the unfortunate circumstances of the latter part of

the reign of that king, a sort of Divine punishment for the example

which he had given of revolt.

We have seen that the dynasty of the Zá, of which that of the Sonni

seems to have been a mere continuation, immigrated from abroad; and it

is a circumstance of the highest interest to see king Mohammed

Áskia,—perhaps the greatest sovereign that ever ruled over

Negroland,—who was a native of this very country, born in the island of

Néni, a little below Sínder, in the Niger, setting us an example of the

highest degree of development of which negroes are capable. For, while

Sonni ʿAlí, like his forefathers, still belonged to that family of

foreign settlers who either came from Yemen, according to the current

tradition, or as is more credible, immigrated from Libya, as Leo states,

the dynasty of the Áskía was entirely of native descent; and it is the

more remarkable, if we consider that this king was held in the highest

esteem and veneration by the most learned and rigid Mohammedans, while

Sonni ʿAlí had rendered himself so odious that people did not know how

to give full vent to their indignation in heaping the most opprobrious

epithets upon him.

It is of no small interest to a person who endeavours to take a

comprehensive view of the various races of mankind, to observe how,

during the time when the Portuguese, carried away by the most heroic

enterprise and the most praiseworthy energy, having gradually discovered

and partly taken possession of the whole western coast of Africa, and

having at length doubled its southernmost promontory, under the guidance

of Almeida and Albuquerque, founded their Indian empire, that at this

same time a negro king in the interior of the continent not only

extended his conquests far and wide, from the centre of Háusa almost to

the borders of the Atlantic, and from the pagan country of Mósi, in 12°

northern latitude, as far as Tawát to the south of Morocco, but also

governed the subjected tribes with justice and equity, causing well-

being and comfort to spring up everywhere within the borders of his

extensive dominions[96], and introducing such of the institutions of

Mohammedan civilisation as he considered might be useful to his

subjects. It is only to be lamented that, as is generally the case in

historical records, while we are tolerably well informed as to the

warlike proceedings of this king, it is merely from circumstances which

occasionally transpire and are slightly touched upon, that we can draw

conclusions as to the interior condition of his empire; and on this

point I will make a few observations, before I proceed to the causes

which rendered the foundation of this empire so unstable.

In a former part of my researches I have entered into the history and

the polity of the empire of Bórnu, and it is interesting to compare with

the latter that of the Songhay empire, which attained the zenith of its

power just at the time when Bórnu likewise, having recovered, in

consequence of the energy and warlike spirit of the king ʿAlí Ghajidéni,

from the wounds inflicted upon it by the loss of Kánem, the desperate

struggle with the tribe of the Soy, and a series of civil wars, attained

its most glorious period during the reign of the two Edrís, in the

course of the sixteenth century of our era.

In instituting such a comparison between these two extensive kingdoms of

Negroland, we soon discover that the Songhay empire, although likewise

stated to be founded by a Libyan dynasty, was far more despotic than its

eastern rival; and it is in vain, that we here look either for a divan

of twelve great officers, forming a powerful and highly influential

aristocracy, or that eclectic form of choosing a successor, both of

which we find in Bórnu: nay, not even the office of a vizier meets our

eye, as we peruse the tolerably rich annals of Áhmed Bábá. We find, no

doubt, powerful officers also in the Songhay empire, as must naturally

be the case in a large kingdom; but these appear to have been merely

governors of provinces, whom the king installed or deposed at his

pleasure, and who exercised no influence upon the internal affairs of

the kingdom, except when it was plunged into civil war.

These governors bore generally the title of “farma,” or “feréng,” a

title which is evidently of Mandingo origin[97], and was traditionally

derived from the institutions of the kingdom of Melle, while the native

Songhay title of “koy” appears to be used only in order to denote

officers of certain provinces, which originally were more intimately

related to Songhay; and in this respect it is a remarkable fact, that

the governor of Timbúktu or Túmbutu, is constantly called Túmbutu koy,

and is only once called Túmbutu-mangha.[98] Besides this province, those

which we find mentioned in the report of Áhmed Bábá are the following,

going from east to west:—Dendi, or as it is now generally called

Déndina, the country between Kebbi and Sáy[99], which I have described

in the account of my own journey, and which seems to have contained a

Songhay population from tolerably ancient times, at least before the

beginning of the sixteenth century; but we find none of the three

divisions of this important province specified, not even Kenga or Zágha.

This is to be regretted, as they appear to have been of ancient origin,

and as their history, especially that of Zágha, which seems to have

derived its name from the more celebrated town of the same name on the

upper course of the river, would be highly interesting.

The country from hence towards the capital we never find comprised by

Áhmed Bábá under a general name, nor do we meet with the names of

Zabérma or Zérma, which I therefore conclude to be of more recent

origin, although that country, at present so named, was evidently

comprised in the kingdom of Songhay. West of Gágho, on the banks of the

river, we next find the province of Banku or Bengu[100], which evidently

comprised that part of the river which is studded with islands, as we

find the inspector of the harbour of Kábara taking refuge in the

district of Banku, with the whole of his fleet, after the capture of the

town by the people of Morocco. Passing then by the province of Bantal,

the limits of which I have not been able to make out, we come to the

province of Bel or Bal, which evidently comprised the country on the

north side of the river round about Timbúktu, and, perhaps, some

distance westwards; but without including that town itself, which had a

governor of its own, nor even the harbour of Kábara, which at that time

was of sufficient importance to be placed under the inspection of a

special officer or “farma,” who, however, seems to have been subjected

in a certain degree to the inspection of the Bal-mʿa, or the governor of

Bal, who was able to call him to account.[101] The governor of the

province of Bal, who bore the peculiar title of “Bal-mʿa,” a word

likewise of Mandingo origin, mʿa corresponding to the Songhay word

“koy,” seems to have been of great importance in a military respect,

while in a moral point of view the governor of the town of Timbúktu

enjoyed perhaps greater authority, and the office of the Túmbutu-koy,

seems always to have been filled by a learned man or fákih, proving that

this town was regarded at that time as the seat of learning; and that

the fákih who governed the town of Timbúktu possessed great power is

evident from the fact, that Áhmed Bábá mentions it as a proof of great

neglect on the part of Al Hádi the governor of Tindírma, that he did not

go in person to the kádhi to pay him his compliments.

Proceeding then westward from Bal and Timbúktu, we come to the very

important province of Kúrmina, with the capital Tindírma, which very

often served as a residence for the king himself, and became the chosen

seat of Áskía Dáúd. The importance of the province of Kúrmina seems to

have been based, not merely upon its military strength and populousness,

but upon the circumstance of its having to supply Songhay Proper,

together with its two large towns of Gágho and Kúkia, with grain; and it

is evidently on this account, that the governor of that province is on

one occasion called the storekeeper and provider of the king.[102]

South-west from the province of Kúrmina, there were two provinces

Dirma[103] and Bara, the exact boundaries of which it is difficult to

determine; except that we know that Bara must have lain rather along the

south-easterly branch of the river; while Dirma, having probably derived

this name from the town of Díre, is most likely to be sought for on the

north-westerly branch, although Caillié places Díriman, as he calls it,

south of the river. The province or district of Sháʿa[104] may probably

be identical with the district round the important town of Sʿa, situated

a short distance to the north-east of the lake Debu, and of which

further notice will be taken in the itineraries. Proceeding further in

the same direction, we have the province of Másina, a name which, under

the form of Másín, is mentioned as early as the latter part of the

eleventh century by El Bekrí[105], but the limits of which it is very

difficult to define, although it is clear that its central part

comprises the islands formed by the different branches of the river, the

Máyo balléo and the Máyo ghannéo, or dhannéo, and probably comprised in

former times the ancient and most important town of Zágha the chief seat

of Tekrúr, which Háj Mohammed Áskía had conquered in the beginning of

his reign. It is peculiar, however, and probably serves to show the

preponderance of the element of the Fúlbe in Másina, where they seem to

have established themselves from very ancient times, that the governor

of this province bore the title of Másina-mangha, instead of Másina-

farma.

To the north-west of Másina, we have the province of Bághena, which

comprised the central portion of the ancient kingdom of Ghána, or

Ghánata, and the important town of Bíru, or Waláta, which, before

Timbúktu rose to greater importance, that is to say, before the time of

Sonni ʿAlí, was the great centre of commerce in this part of Negroland.

The province of Bághena was also of considerable importance on account

of its situation, bordering, as it did, closely upon the central parts

of the empire of Melle, which, at this time, formed almost the only

portion that remained of that vast empire, and which was nearly

overwhelmed by the Songhay in the course of the sixteenth century. Even

the Imóshagh or Tawárek became tributaries.

South of the river two other provinces are mentioned by Áhmed Bábá,

namely, the province of Hómbori, which from the nature of the country

was also called Tondi, or El Hajri, and Burgu[106], or rather Barba,

though the latter country was apparently never entirely subjected.

The governors of these provinces were certainly possessed of

considerable power, and belonging, as they did in general, to the royal

family, exercised a very prejudicial influence upon the destinies of the

empire, as at the same time the central government became weak and

debilitated. The governor of Kúrmina, especially, conscious of the

important influence and the rich character of his province, was very

prone to mutiny and revolt. For as it was certainly a great advance in

the scale of civilisation, that it was not customary amongst the Songhay

to murder the younger brothers of the newly elected king, or to render

them incapable of aspiring to the royal dignity by depriving them of

their sight (as is still the custom in Wádáy), or in some other manner

disabling them; so, on the other hand, it was no doubt very prejudicial

to the stability of the empire, that so many royal princes were

constantly installed as governors of powerful provinces, some of them

situated at a great distance from the capital. Such a government could

only prosper under the rule of a powerful king, such as Mohammed el Háj

Áskía was during his most vigorous period.

On the other hand, we find that the government of Songhay was far more

despotic than that of Bórnu, where, as I have had occasion to

relate[107], the election of a new king from among the royal princes was

placed in the hands of three electors, themselves chosen from the most

trustworthy men of the country; while the kings of Songhay appear

originally to have designated their own successor among the royal

princes, there being even an established dignity of something like an

heir-apparent or crown-prince, with the title of “feréng-mangha:”[108]

but this principle, as is naturally the case in barbaric states without

any written constitution, was only observed as long as the king

exercised paramount authority, while we see in other cases the army, or

even a powerful governor, choosing a successor, as that of Dendi, who

deposed Mohammed Bánkorí, and installed in his place Áskía Ismʿaíl.

As I stated before, we do not even find in Songhay a regular vizier; but

we find a sort of treasurer in the person of the “khatíb,” that is to

say the imám who preaches before the congregation every Friday. Thus we

find the great Háj Mohammed Áskía taking the whole of the money which he

thought necessary for his royal pilgrimage, viz. 300,000 mithkáls, out

of the royal treasury, which was in the hands of the khatíb ʿOmár[109];

but we even find, in another passage, the same khatíb authorised to

liberate a princely prisoner; and, from a third passage[110], it is

quite evident that the khatíb in Gágho exercised the same authority as

the kádhi in Timbúktu, although we find a kádhi besides him in the

capital.

There appears to have been an established state prison in Songhay,

namely, in a place called Kantú, the exact situation of which, however,

I have not yet been able to ascertain. This prison could not fail to

become of great importance as the dissensions and feuds in the royal

family increased; and there appears to be no doubt that at times it was

quite full of royal prisoners, and in this respect, as well as on

account of the various assassinations which occurred there, fully

corresponded with the character of the Tower in the middle ages. There

is no doubt that polygamy, with its consequent intrigues in the harím,

was the chief cause of the speedy decline of the Songhay empire from the

high position it had attained under the rule of Sonni ʿAlí and Háj

Mohammed Áskía. The large number of ambitious children that Áskía Dáúd,

the most peaceful of the Songhay rulers, left behind him, seems

especially to have contributed in a great measure to this speedy

decline; but the example had been set by that ruler himself, who, having

no other claims to the royal dignity than his talent and energy,

revolted against his liege lord, whom he conquered and supplanted, but

had himself to endure the misfortune of being persecuted, and finally

dethroned in his old age, by his own son Músa.

On the subject of the manners and customs and the state of society in

Songhay during its period of power, we find but little in the short

extracts which I was able to make from the history of Áhmed Bábá; still

a few hints as to some remarkable usages are to be gleaned from them.

Islám, as we have seen, had been adopted by the royal family at the

beginning of the eleventh century of our era; but we learn from the

eminent Andalusian geographer El Bekrí, who finished his work on Africa

in the year 1067, that while the king was a Moslim by law, receiving at

his accession to the throne, as emblems of his authority, a sword, ring,

and a copy of the Kurán, which were said to have been sent by an Emír el

Múmenín (from Egypt), the greater part of the inhabitants even of the

capital, at that time, were still addicted to paganism[111]; and we may

fairly conclude from the description of Leo Africanus, and from what we

observe in Negroland at the present day, that even during the time of

the Áskías, the greater part of the natives of the country were

idolaters, at least in heart and superstitious usages. However, it would

seem as if they had received, in more ancient times, several

institutions from the Egyptians, with whom, I have no doubt, they

maintained an intercourse, by means of the energetic inhabitants of

Aújila[112], from a relatively ancient period; and among these

institutions I feel justified in reckoning the great care which the

Songhay bestowed upon their dead. We see that even those among their

kings who died in the very remotest part of the empire were transported

with the greatest trouble to the capital, in order to be buried there

with due ceremony. For instance, Sonni ʿAlí had died in Gurma; but his

sons, who accompanied him on the expedition, took out his entrails, and

filled his inside with honey, in order that it might be preserved from

putrefaction.[113] The remains of Áskía Dáúd were transported all the

way from Tindírma to Gágho in a boat. Even in the case of the slaughter

of distinguished enemies, we find strict orders given to perform towards

them the ceremonies usual with the dead.

The attention thus bestowed upon the dead seems not to have been in

consequence of the introduction of Islám, but appears rather to have

been traditionally handed down from the remotest antiquity.

Nevertheless, it is clear that the adoption of Islám exercised

considerable influence upon the civilisation of these people, and we

even find a Medreseh mentioned in Gágho[114], an establishment the

institution of which we have probably to assign to El Háj Mohammed, who,

while on his pilgrimage to Mekka, solicited the advice of the most

learned men in Egypt, and especially that of the sheikh Jelál e’ dín e’

Soyúti, as to the best method of propagating the Mohammedan religion in

his own country.

The influence of learning and study, even in the royal family, is

apparent enough from the example of the pretender Mohammed Bánkorí[115],

who, when on his march to Gágho, ready to fight the king El Háj Áskía,

was induced by the kádhi of Timbúktu, whom he by chance visited, to give

up his ambitious designs for a quiet course of study, to the great

astonishment and disappointment of his army, who expected to be led by

him, in a bloody contest, to power and wealth. Áhmed Bábá himself, the

author of the history of Songhay, who gives a long list of learned

natives of Negroland, may serve as a fair specimen of the learning in

Timbúktu at that time. He had a library of 1600 books.

A great deal of commerce was carried on in Songhay during the dominion

of the Áskías, especially in the towns of Gágho and Kúkiya; the latter

being, as it appears, the especial market for gold as early as the

latter half of the eleventh century. Salt, too, was the staple

commodity, while shells already at that time constituted the general

currency of the market; not, however, the same kind of shells that are

used at present, but a different sort which were introduced from Persia;

and there is no doubt that, even at that time, almost all the luxuries

of the Arabs found their way into this part of Negroland. That Timbúktu

also, since the decline of Bíru or Waláta, in the latter part of the

fifteenth century, formed an important place for foreign commerce, is

evident from the fact that the merchants of Ghadámes, even at the taking

of the town by the Bashá Jódar, inhabited the same quarter as at the

present day.

We also see, from Leo’s account[116], that the king of Songhay was

obliged to spend a great proportion of his revenue in the purchase of

horses from Barbary, by means of which he improved the native breed, as

we have seen was the case in Bórnu, cavalry constituting the principal

military strength of countries in the state of civilisation which

prevails in Negroland. We also find coats of mail mentioned, as well as

brass helmets, but no allusion is made to even a single musketeer, nor

is the use of any firearms intimated by Áhmed Bábá, although he

distinctly describes several engagements, and even single combats. It

was this circumstance which secured to the small army sent by the

Emperor of Morocco, a superiority which could not be contested by any

numbers which the last Áskía, ruling over a kingdom of vast extent but

undermined by intrigues and civil war, was able to oppose to it; and we

must not conclude, from this circumstance, that an army of 4000 men was

a great thing at that time in point of numbers, for the kings of

Negroland, at least those of Songhay and Bórnu, at that period, were

able to raise greater armies than any of the present kings of those

regions could bring together, and we hear of an army of 140,000 men.

The circumstance of the kings of Songhay not having procured at that

time—the end of the sixteenth century of our era—even the smallest

number of firearms, is remarkable, if we compare with it the fact which

I have dwelt upon in its proper place[117], that Edrís Álawóma, the king

of Bórnu who ruled in the latter part of the sixteenth century,

possessed a considerable number of muskets. The cannon which was found

among the Songhay when they were conquered by the Moroccains had, I have

no doubt, formed part of the present which the Portuguese had forwarded

to Áskía Músa, as we shall further see in detail in the chronological

tables; but the fact of the enemy having found this piece of ordnance

among the spoil of the capital, and not in the thick of the battle,

sufficiently proves that the Songhay did not know how to use it. As for

the matchlocks, which even at the present day are preserved in Gágho,

and of which, by some accident, I did not obtain a sight, they belonged

originally to the very conquerors from Morocco, who afterwards, as Rumá,

formed a stationary garrison, and even a certain aristocratical body, in

all the chief towns of the kingdom.

Side by side with a certain degree of civilisation, no doubt, many

barbarous customs were retained, such as the use of the lash, which in

other parts of Negroland we find rarely employed, except in the case of

slaves, but which, in Songhay, we see made use of constantly, even in

the case of persons of the highest rank; and instances occur, as in that

of the instigator of the revolt of El Hádi, under the king El Háj, of

persons being flogged to death.[118]

It is certainly a memorable fact, of which people in Europe had scarcely

any idea, that a ruler of Morocco, at the time when Spain had attained

its highest degree of power under Philip II., and was filled with

precious metals, should open an access to an extensive and rich country,

from whence to procure himself an unlimited supply of gold, to the

surprise of all the potentates of Europe. It is, moreover, a very

remarkable circumstance, that the soldiery by means of which Múláy Hámed

subdued that far-distant kingdom, and who were left as a garrison in the

conquered towns, intermarrying with the females of the country, in the

same way as the Portuguese did in India, managed to rule those extensive

regions by themselves, even long after they had ceased to acknowledge

the supremacy of the Emperor of Morocco, whose soldiers these Rumá

originally had been, Rumá or Ermá being the plural form of Rámi,

“shooter” or “sharpshooter;” and although they appear never to have

formed a compact body ruled by a single individual, but rather a number

of small aristocratic communities, the Rumá in Timbúktu having scarcely

any connection with those in Bághena, nay, probably not even with those

in Bamba and Gágho, yet superior discipline enabled them to keep their

place. The nationality of these Rumá puzzled me a long time, while I was

collecting information on these regions in the countries farther

eastward; and they have lately attracted the attention of the French

traveller Raffenel[119], during his journey to Kaárta, when he learnt so

much about a people, whom he calls “Arama,” that he supposed them to be

a distinct tribe, although the vocabulary which he collected of their

idiom, shows it to be nothing but a slight variety of the Songhay

language. However, it is clear, that under such circumstances the

dominion exercised by this set of half-castes could not but be of a very

precarious character; and after a protracted struggle with the smaller

tribes around, they have been entirely crushed by the Tawárek, and in

most of the towns of Songhay form at present an integral part of the

degraded native population, although they have preserved their name of

Rumá, or, as the name is generally pronounced, Rummá, and still claim a

sort of moral ascendancy.

It will be seen from the preceding sketch, and become still more

apparent from the chronological tables at the end of the volume, that

Timbúktu has rather unjustly figured in Europe as the centre and the

capital of a great Negro empire, while it never acted more than a

secondary part, at least in earlier times; and this character evidently

appears from the narrative of Ebn Batúta’s journey, in the middle of the

fourteenth century. But on account of Timbúktu becoming the seat of

Mohammedan learning and Mohammedan worship, and owing to the noble

character of its buildings, well deserving to rank as a city or

“medína,” a title which the capital itself perhaps never deserved, it

always enjoyed great respect, even during the flourishing period of the

latter; and after Gágho or Gógó had relapsed into insignificance, in

consequence of the conquest by the Rumá at the end of the sixteenth

century, Timbúktu, on account of its greater proximity to Morocco,

became the more important place, where gradually the little commerce

which still remained in that distracted region of the Niger was

concentrated. But, nevertheless, during the age of anarchy which

succeeded to the conquest of the country by the Rumá, and owing to the

oppression from the Tawárek tribes on the one side, and the Bámbara and

Fúlbe on the other, the state of affairs could not be very settled; and

the town, shaken as it was to its very base by that fearful struggle of

the inhabitants with the Kádhi Mústapha, with massacre, rapine, and

conflagration following in its train, could not but decline greatly from

its former splendour; yet under the alternately predominating influence

of paganism, represented most strongly by the warlike tribe of the

Bámbara, and of Mohammedanism represented by the Arab tribes[120], it

struggled on, till in consequence of its being conquered by the Fúlbe of

Másina, in the year 1826, a few months before the unfortunate Major

Laing succeeded in reaching the town, it was threatened with the loss of

all its commerce. For these people, owing to the impulse given to

Mohammedanism in this part of Negroland by their countryman ʿOthmán dan

Fódiye[121], had become far more fanatical champions of the faith than

the Arabs and Moors; and treating the inhabitants of the newly conquered

city, as well as the foreigners who used to visit it, with extreme

rigour, according to the prejudices which they had imbibed, they could

not fail to ruin almost the whole commercial activity of the place.

Their oppression was not confined to the pagan traders, the Wangaráwa,

who carry on almost the whole commerce with the countries south of the

Niger, but extended even to the Mohammedan merchants from the north,

especially the traders from Tawát and Ghadámes, against whom the Morocco

merchants, instigated by a feeling of petty rivalry, succeeded in

directing their rancour. It was in consequence of this oppression,

especially after a further increase of the Fúlbe party in the year 1831,

that the Ghadámsíye people induced the Sheikh el Mukhtár, the elder

brother of El Bakáy, and successor of Sídi Mohammed, to remove his

residence from the hille, or hillet e’ sheikh el Mukhtár, in Ázawád,

half a day’s journey from the well Bel Mehán to Timbúktu. Thus we find

in this distracted place a third power stepping in between the Fúlbe on

the one side and the Tawárek on the other, and using the power of the

latter as far as their want of centralisation allowed, against the

overbearing character of the former. In consequence of this continued

collision, the Tawárek drove the Fúlbe completely out of the town, about

the year 1844, when a battle was fought on the banks of the river, in

which a great number of the latter were either slain or drowned. But the

victory of the Tawárek was of no avail, and only plunged the distracted

town into greater misery; for, owing to its peculiar situation on the

border of a desert tract, Timbúktu cannot rely upon its own resources,

but must always be dependent upon those who rule the more fertile tracts

higher up the river; and the ruler of Másina had only to forbid the

exportation of corn from his dominions to reduce the inhabitants of

Timbúktu to the utmost distress. A compromise was therefore agreed to in

the year 1846, through the mediation of the Sheikh el Bakáy, between the

different parties, to the effect that Timbúktu should be dependent on

the Fúlbe without being garrisoned by a military force, the tribute

being collected by two kádhis, one Púllo, and the other Songhay, who

should themselves decide all cases of minor importance, the more

important ones being referred to the capital. But, nevertheless, the

government of the town, or rather the police, as far as it goes, is in

the hands of one or two Songhay mayors, with the title of emír, but who

have scarcely any effective power, placed as they are between the Fúlbe

on the one side and the Tawárek on the other, and holding their ground

against the former through the two kádhis, and against the latter by

means of the Sheikh el Bakáy. Such is the distracted state of this town,

which cannot be remedied before a strong and intelligent power is again

established on this upper course of the Niger, so eminently favourable

for commerce.

After these general remarks on the character of the history of Songhay,

I proceed to give a diary of my stay in Timbúktu.

[Footnote 85: Cooley, “Negroland of the Arabs.”]

[Footnote 86: Revue Africaine, vol. i. p. 287, “Conquête du Soudan par

les Marocains,” par le Baron Macguckin de Slane. Journal Asiatique,

1855, “Litérature du Soudan,” par M. le Professor Cherbonneau.]

[Footnote 87: This character is most strikingly indicated in those very

remarks which M. le Baron de Slane has published in the notice (see

preceding note) which was intended to depreciate the merit of Áhmed Bábá

as a historian.]

[Footnote 88: According to Leo, this dynasty emigrated from Lybia.]

[Footnote 89: Vol. II. p. 507.]

[Footnote 90: Journal of the Leipsic Oriental Society, vol. ix. p. 518.]

[Footnote 91: Journal of the Leipsic Oriental Society, vol. ix. p. 525.]

[Footnote 92: “The palace which was erected in Timbúktu was called

‘mʿaduk,’ or ‘mʿadugu.’ This is evidently a Mandingo word, meaning ‘the

house of the king;’ but it was certainly called so in the language of

the conquerors, and not in that of the natives, and Áhmed Bábá

understands the former when he says that the building was called by this

name in _their_ language.”—_Journal of Leipsic Oriental Society_, ix. p.

525.]

[Footnote 93: The _u_ sound in the first syllable of the name is the

only original one, not only in the Songhay, but also in the Arabic form;

but it has gradually been changed into an _i_, and almost all the Arabs

at the present time pronounce and write T_i_nbuktu, تِنبُكتُ. The town

was probably so called, because it was built originally in a hollow or

cavity in the sandhills. Túmbutu means hole or womb in the Songhay

language: if it were a Temáshight word, it would be written T_i_nbuktu.

The name is generally interpreted by Europeans, _well_ of Buktu, but

_tin_ has nothing to do with well. See Vol. I. p. 333, note.]

[Footnote 94: See Áhmed Bábá, l.c. p. 526.]

[Footnote 95: It is remarkable that, in a map published at Strasburg in

the year 1513, the kingdom of Melle appears under the name of Regnum

Musa Melle de Ginoria. Atlas of Santarem, pl. No. 13.]

[Footnote 96: It is not to be wondered at that Leo, who visited

Negroland just at the time when this prince was aspiring to power, and

who must have written the greater part of what he relates of him and his

conquests from information which he had received after he had left the

country, should treat this usurper, whose identity with his Ischia

cannot be doubtful, with very little indulgence; and it even seems as if

he purposely intended to give a bad interpretation to everything which

the king undertook, a fact which is clearly evident from what he relates

with regard to his proceedings in Háusa. That the taxes imposed by him

upon his subjects may have been heavy, I concede may be true, as without

a considerable revenue he was not able to keep up a strong military

force; but at least they evidently must have been much less than they

were in the time of Sonni ʿAlí, when almost the whole population was

engaged in war. We find a very heavy duty upon salt, from each load

5_l._]

[Footnote 97: See Cooley, “Negroland,” p. 75, n. 26. and p. 77, n. 28.]

[Footnote 98: Journal of the Leipsic Oriental Society, vol. ix. p. 554.

If there be no mistake, there was a “koy” as well as a “farma” in some

of the provinces, such as Bára.]

[Footnote 99: A governor of the town of Sáy is perhaps indicated under

the title of Sáy-weli. Ibid. p. 550.]

[Footnote 100: That Banku lay between Timbúktu and Ghágo is evident from

the fact, that the governor of that province fled to Gágho, when

Mohammed Sadík, the governor of Bel, or Bal, marched upon the capital of

the empire.]

[Footnote 101: See the account in the Journal of the Leipsic Oriental

Society, p. 545.]

[Footnote 102: Journal of the Leipsic Oriental Society, p. 541:—“Then he

made Kishya feréng of Kúrmina, and gave him the office of mezrʿa مزرع.”]

[Footnote 103: It is not improbable that Dirma was originally the name

or title of the governor of Díre, as Balmʿa was that of the governor of

Bal, and that it was in after times conferred upon the province of which

he was the ruler. Caillié, vol. ii. p. 29.]

[Footnote 104: Journal of the Leipsic Oriental Society, p. 544.]

[Footnote 105: El Bekrí, ed. Macguckin de Slane, p. 150: ملك ماسين.]

[Footnote 106: In the passage (Journal of the Leipsic Oriental Society),

p. 546, in the seventh line, a second ك is added by mistake. The name

cannot be read as Burgu-koy, as all the parties composing the army of

the pretender Mohámmed e’ Sadík, are said to have belonged to _the

people of the west_, while Burgu is situated at the S.E. frontier of

Songhay; nay, it is quite clear, from page 547, that the Barakoy is

meant, and not the Burgu-koy.]

[Footnote 107: Vol. II. p. 270.]

[Footnote 108: The exact meaning of the title “feréng-mangha,” and the

authority with which it was invested, are not quite clear; for although

there is little doubt that “feréng-mangha” signifies “great prince,” it

is remarkable that on various occasions we find two “feréng-mangha”

instead of one; and it is stated of Mohammed Ban Áskía, that he

expressly designated two (J.O.S. p. 545). Moreover, we find that neither

of these two was taken into account in appointing a successor (Ib. p.

546). But another passage (Ib. p. 552) is not less clear, stating

plainly that, the feréng-mangha having fallen in the battle, the Áskía

named another prince as his successor, implying clearly the identity of

the title “feréng-mangha” with that of heir-apparent.]

[Footnote 109: Journal of the Leipsic Oriental Society, p. 533.]

[Footnote 110: Ibid. p. 555.]

[Footnote 111: El Bekrí, ed. de Slane, p. 183.]

[Footnote 112: See El Edrísi, trans. Jaubert, i. p. 288.]

[Footnote 113: Journal of the Leipsic Oriental Society, p. 532.]

[Footnote 114: Ibid. p. 527, from the year 936 A.H.]

[Footnote 115: Ibid. p. 541.]

[Footnote 116: Leo Africanus, l. vii. c. 3.]

[Footnote 117: Vol. II. p. 650.]

[Footnote 118: Journal of the Leipsic Oriental Society, p. 543.]

[Footnote 119: See Raffenel, Nouveau Voyage dans le pays des Nègres

(made in 1847), Paris, 1856, vol. ii. p. 349, _et seq._; the Vocabulary,

ibid. p. 399, _et seq._]

[Footnote 120: This condition of the town explains the great divergence

of reports as to the creed prevalent in Timbúktu; but it is

unintelligible that a person could actually visit the town without

becoming aware that it contained several mosques, and very large ones,

too, for such a place. For particulars, see the Appendix.]

[Footnote 121: See what I have said, p. 256, about the Sheikh Áhmedu, or

rather Mohammed Lebbo, the founder of the kingdom of Hamda-Alláhi,

having brought from Gando the religious banner under which he conquered

Másina.]

CHAP. LXVII.

FIRST MONTH OF RESIDENCE IN TIMBÚKTU.

It had been arranged that, during the absence of the Sheikh el Bakáy,

whose special guest I professed to be, my house should be locked up and

no one allowed to pay me a visit. However, while my luggage was being

got in, numbers of people gained access to the house, and came to pay me

their compliments, and while they scrutinised my luggage, part of which

had rather a foreign appearance, some of them entertained a doubt as to

my nationality. But of course it could never have been my intention to

have impressed these people with the belief of my being a Mohammedan;

for having been known as a Christian all along my road as far as

Libtáko, with which province the Arabs of Ázawád keep up a continual

intercourse, although there the people would scarcely believe that I was

a European, the news of my real character could not fail soon to

transpire; and it was rather a fortunate circumstance that,

notwithstanding our extremely slow progress, and our roundabout

direction, the news had not anticipated us. I had been obliged to adopt

the character of a Mohammedan, in order to traverse with some degree of

safety the country of the Tawárek, and to enter the town of Timbúktu,

which was in the hands of the fanatical Fúlbe of Hamda-Alláhi, while I

had not yet obtained the protection of the chief whose name and

character alone had inspired me with sufficient confidence to enter upon

this enterprise.

Thus I had now reached the object of my arduous undertaking; but it was

apparent from the very first, that I should not enjoy the triumph of

having overcome the difficulties of the journey in quiet and repose. The

continuous excitement of the protracted struggle, and the uncertainty

whether I should succeed in my undertaking, had sustained my weakened

frame till I actually reached this city; but as soon as I was there, and

almost at the very moment when I entered my house, I was seized with a

severe attack of fever. Yet never were presence of mind and bodily

energy more required; for the first night which I passed in Timbúktu was

disturbed by feelings of alarm and serious anxiety.

On the morning of the 8th of September, the first news I heard was, that

Hammádi the rival and enemy of El Bakáy had informed the Fúlbe, or

Fullán, that a Christian had entered the town, and that, in consequence,

they had come to the determination of killing him. However, these

rumours did not cause me any great alarm, as I entertained the false

hope that I might rely on the person who, for the time, had undertaken

to protect me: but my feeling of security was soon destroyed, this very

man turning out my greatest tormentor. I had destined for him a very

handsome gift, consisting of a fine cloth bernús, a cloth kaftán, and

two tobes, one of silk and the other of indigo-dyed cotton, besides some

smaller articles; but he was by no means satisfied with these, and

peremptorily raised the present to the following formidable

proportions:—

Shells.

Two blue bernúses of the best quality, worth 100,000

One kaftán 40,000

Two waistcoats; one red and one blue 15,000

Two silk tobes 35,500

Two Núpe tobes 30,000

A pair of small pistols, with 7 lbs. of fine powder

Ten Spanish dollars

Two English razors, and many other articles

While levying this heavy contribution upon me, in order to take from the

affair its vexatious character, my host stated, that as their house and

their whole establishment were at my disposal, so my property ought to

be at theirs. But even this amount of property did not satisfy him, nor

were his pretensions limited to this; for, the following day, he exacted

an almost equal amount of considerable presents from me, such as two

cloth kaftáns, two silk hamáíl, or sword belts, three other silk tobes,

one of the species called jellábi, one of that called harír, and the

third of the kind called filfil, one Núpe tobe, three túrkedís, a small

six-barrelled pistol, and many other things. He promised me, however, on

his part, that he would not only make presents of several of these

articles to the Tawárek chiefs, but that he would also send a handsome

gift to the governor of Hamda-Alláhi; but this latter condition at

least, although the most important, considering that the town was

formally subjected to the supremacy of the ruler of Másina, was never

fulfilled; and although I was prepared to sacrifice all I had for the

purposes of my journey, yet it was by no means agreeable to give up such

a large proportion of my very limited property to a younger brother of

the chief under whose protection I was to place myself.

Thus my first day in Timbúktu passed away, preparing me for a great deal

of trouble and anxiety which I should have to go through; even those who

professed to be my friends treating me with so little consideration.

However, the second day of my residence here was more promising. I

received visits from several respectable people, and I began to enter

with spirit upon my new situation, and to endeavour by forbearance to

accommodate myself to the circumstances under which I was placed. The

state of my health also seemed to improve, and I felt a great deal

better than on the preceding day.

I was not allowed to stir about, but was confined within the walls of my

house. In order to obviate the effect of this want of exercise as much

as possible, to enjoy fresh air and at the same time to become familiar

with the principal features of the town, through which I was not allowed

to move about at pleasure, I ascended as often as possible the terrace

of my house. This afforded an excellent view over the northern quarters

of the town. On the north was the massive mosque of Sánkoré, which had

just been restored to all its former grandeur through the influence of

the Sheikh el Bakáy, and gave the whole place an imposing character.

Neither the mosque Sídi Yáhia, nor the “great mosque,” or Jíngeré-bér,

was seen from this point; but towards the east the view extended over a

wide expanse of the desert, and towards the south the elevated mansions

of the Ghadámsíye merchants were visible. The style of the buildings was

various. I could see clay houses of different characters, some low and

unseemly, others rising with a second story in front to greater

elevation, and making even an attempt at architectural ornament, the

whole being interrupted by a few round huts of matting. The sight of

this spectacle afforded me sufficient matter of interest, although, the

streets being very narrow, only little was to be seen of the intercourse

carried on in them, with the exception of the small market in the

northern quarter, which was exposed to view on account of its situation

on the slope of the sand-hills which, in course of time, have

accumulated round the mosque.

But while the terrace of my house served to make me well acquainted with

the character of the town, it had also the disadvantage of exposing me

fully to the gaze of the passers by, so that I could only slowly and

with many interruptions, succeed in making a sketch of the scene thus

offered to my view, and which is represented in the plate opposite. At

the same time I became aware of the great inaccuracy which characterises

the view of the town as given by M. Caillié; still, on the whole, the

character of the single dwellings was well represented by that

traveller, the only error being that in his representation the whole

town seems to consist of scattered and quite isolated houses, while, in

reality, the streets are entirely shut in, as the dwellings form

continuous and uninterrupted rows. But it must be taken into account

that Timbúktu, at the time of Caillié’s visit, was not so well off as it

is at present, having been overrun by the Fúlbe the preceding year, and

he had no opportunity of making a drawing on the spot.

Although I was greatly delighted at the pleasant place of retreat for

refreshing my spirits and invigorating my body by a little exercise

which the terrace afforded me, I was disgusted by the custom which

prevails in the houses like that in which I was lodged, of using the

terrace as a sort of closet; and I had great difficulty in preventing my

guide Ammer el Waláti, who still staid with me and made the terrace his

usual residence, from indulging in this filthy practice.

Being anxious to impart to my friends in Europe the news of my safe

arrival in this far-famed town, I was busily employed in writing

letters, which gave fresh impulse to my energy. My tormentor Sídi

Alawáte himself seemed anxious to rouse my spirits, which he could not

but be conscious of having contributed a great deal to depress, by

sending me word that he himself would undertake to accompany me on my

home journey, as he intended making the pilgrimage to Mekka; but, having

once had full opportunity of judging of the character of this man, I

placed but little confidence in his words.

Meanwhile, I began to provide what was most necessary for my comfort,

and bought for myself and my people a piece of good bleached calico,

“shígge,”[122] or “sehen híndi,” as it is called here, for 13,500

shells, and three pieces of unbleached calico for 8000 each. At the same

time I sent several articles into the market, in order to obtain a

supply of the currency of the place, 3000 shells being reckoned equal to

one Spanish dollar.

Thus I had begun to make myself a little more comfortable, when suddenly

on the morning of the 10th, while I was suffering from another attack of

fever, I was excited by the report being circulated, that the party

opposed to my residence in the town was arming in order to attack me in

my house. Now, I must confess that, notwithstanding the profession of

sincere friendship made to me by Sídi Álawáte, I am inclined to believe

that he himself was not free from treachery, and, perhaps, was in some

respect implicated in this manœuvre, as he evidently supposed that, on

the first rumour of such an attack being intended, I should abandon my

house, or at least my property, when he might hope to get possession

underhand of at least a good portion of the latter before the arrival of

his brother, whom he knew to be a straightforward man, and who would not

connive at such intrigues. With this view, I have no doubt, he sent a

female servant to my house, advising me to deposit all my goods[123] in

safety with the Táleb el Wáfi, as the danger which threatened me was

very great; but this errand had no other effect than to rouse my

spirits. I armed immediately, and ordered my servants to do the same,

and my supposed protector was not a little astonished, when he himself

came shortly afterwards with the Waláti (who, no doubt, was at the

bottom of the whole affair), and found me ready to defend myself and my

property, and to repulse any attack that might be made upon my

residence, from whatever quarter it might proceed. He asked me whether I

meant to fight the whole population of the town, uttering the words

“gúwet e’ Rúm,” “strength of the Christians;” and protested that I was

quite safe under his protection and had nothing to fear, and certainly,

for the moment, my energetic conduct had dispersed the clouds that might

have been impending over my head.

But notwithstanding his repeated protestations of sincere friendship,

and although he confirmed with his own mouth what I had already heard

from other people, that he himself was to accompany me on my return

journey as far as Bórnu, he did not discontinue for a moment his

importunity in begging for more presents day by day.

One day he called on me in company with his principal pupils, and

earnestly recommended me to change my religion, and from an unbeliever

to become a true believer. Feeling myself strong enough in arguments to

defend my own religious principles, I challenged him to demonstrate to

me the superiority of his creed, telling him that in that case I should

not fail to adopt it, but not till then. Upon this, he and his pupils

began with alacrity a spirited discussion, in the firm hope that they

would soon be able to overcome my arguments; but after a little while

they found them rather too strong, and were obliged to give in, without

making any further progress at the time in their endeavours to persuade

me to turn Mohammedan. This incident improved my situation in an

extraordinary degree, by basing my safety on the sincere esteem which

several of the most intelligent of the inhabitants contracted for me.

While thus gaining a more favourable position, even in the eyes of this

unprincipled man, I had the pleasure of receiving a letter from his

elder, more intelligent, and straightforward brother, the Sheikh el

Bakáy himself, late in the evening of the 13th, full of the most

assuring promises that I should be quite safe under his protection, and

that he would soon arrive to relieve me from my unsatisfactory position.

And although I felt very unwell all this time, and especially the very

day that I received this message, I did not lose a moment in sending the

Sheikh a suitable answer, wherein I clearly set forth all the motives

which had induced me to visit this city, in conformity with the direct

wish of the British government, whose earnest desire it was to open

friendly intercourse with all the chiefs and princes of the earth;

mentioning among other Mohammedan chiefs with whom such a relation

existed, the Sultan ʿAbd el Mejíd, Múlá ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, and the Imám of

Maskat; and whose attention the region of the Great River (Niger),

together with Timbúktu, had long attracted. At the same time I assured

him that his own fame as a just and highly intelligent man, which I had

received from my friends far to the east in the heart of Negroland, had

inspired me with full confidence that I should be safe under his

protection. In consequence of the views which I set forth in this

letter, I was so fortunate as to gain the lasting esteem of this

excellent man, who was so much pleased with the contents of it, that on

its arrival in Gúndam, where he was at the time, he read it to all the

principal men, Tawárek, Songhay, and even Fullán, in whose company he

was staying.

Meanwhile, in order to obtain the friendship and to secure the interest

of other and more selfish people, I gave away a great many presents;

but, from what I learned afterwards, I had reason to suspect that they

did not all reach the persons for whom they were intended. Most of them

remained in the possession of the greedy Weled Ámmer Waláti, through

whose hands they had unfortunately to pass.

The day that I received the important message from the Sheikh has been

impressed on my memory with so much greater force, as it was the grand

festival of the Mohammedans, or the ʿAíd el Kebír. Here also in this

city, so far remote from the centre of Mohammedan worship, the whole

population, on this important day, said their prayers outside the town;

but there being no paramount chief to give unity to the whole of the

festive arrangements, the ceremonies exhibited no striking features, and

the whole went off very tamely, only small parties of from six to ten

persons forming groups for joining in prayer, while the whole procession

comprised scarcely more than thirty horses.

After my fever had abated for a day or two it returned with greater

violence on the 17th, and I felt at times extremely unwell and very

weak, and in my feverish state was less inclined to bear with

tranquillity and equanimity all the exactions and contributions levied

upon me by Sídi Álawáte. We had a thunder-storm almost every day,

followed now and then by a tolerable quantity of rain; the greatest fall

of rain, according to the information which I was able to gather,

annually occurring during the month of September, a phenomenon in entire

harmony with the northerly latitude of the place. This humidity,

together with the character of the open hall in which I used to pass the

night as well as the day, increased my indisposition not a little; but

the regard for my security did not allow me to seek shelter in the

storeroom wherein I had placed my luggage, and which, being at the back

of the hall, was well protected against cold, and, as it seemed at

least, even against wet. For, not to speak of the oppressive atmosphere

and almost total darkness which prevailed in that close place, in taking

up my residence there I should have exposed myself to the danger of a

sudden attack, while from the hall where I was staying I was enabled to

observe everything which was going on in my house; and through the

screen which protected the opening, close by the side of my couch, I

could observe everybody that entered my yard long before they saw me.

For this reason I preferred this place even to the room on the terrace,

although the latter had the advantage of better air. I may observe that

these upper rooms in general form the private residence of most of the

people in the town who have the luxury of such an upper story.

[Illustration:

1. First segífa, or, as it is called in Songhay, “sífa,” or ante-room.

2. Second segífa, with a staircase, or “tintim,” (3) leading to the

terrace, “garbéne,” and the front room on the terrace, where three of

my people well-armed were constantly keeping watch.

4. Inner court-yard.

5. Hall, with two open entrances, wherein I had my residence by night

and day, on the reed-bed on the right.

6. Store-room capable of being locked up.

7. Covered passage, or corridor.

8. Second court-yard, originally intended for the female department,

but where I kept my horse, the surrounding rooms as well as the back

wall of the house being in a state of decay.]

[Sidenote: Monday, September 26th.]

About three o’clock in the morning, while I was lying restlessly on my

couch, endeavouring in vain to snatch a moment’s sleep, the Sheikh Sídi

Áhmed el Bakáy arrived. The music, which was immediately struck up in

front of his house by the women, was ill adapted to procure me rest;

while the arrival of my protector, on whose disposition and power the

success of my whole undertaking and my own personal safety fully

depended, excited my imagination in the highest degree, and thus

contributed greatly to increase my feverish state.

The following day I was so ill as to be quite unable to pay my respects

to my protector, who sent me a message begging me to quiet myself, as I

might rest assured that nothing but my succumbing to illness could

prevent me from safely returning to my native home. Meanwhile, as a

proof of his hospitable disposition, he sent me a handsome present,

consisting of two oxen, two sheep, two large vessels of butter, one

camel load, or “suníye,” of rice, and another of negro-corn, cautioning

me, at the same time, against eating any food which did not come from

his own house. In order to cheer my spirits, he at once begged me to

choose between the three roads by which I wanted to return home—either

through the country of the Fúlbe, or in a boat on the river, or, by

land, through the district of the Tawárek.

As from the first I had been fully aware that neither the disposition of

the natives, and especially that of the present rulers of the country,

the Fúlbe, nor the state of my means, would allow me to proceed

westward, and as I felt persuaded that laying down the course of the

Niger from Timbúktu to Sáy would far outweigh in importance a journey

through the upper country towards the Senegal, I was firm in desiring

from the beginning to be allowed to visit Gógó. For not deeming it

prudent, in order to avoid creating unnecessary suspicion, to lay too

great stress upon navigating the river, I preferred putting forward the

name of the capital of the Songhay empire; as in visiting that place I

was sure that I should see at least the greater part of the river, while

at the same time I should come into contact with the Tawárek, who are

the ruling tribe throughout its whole course.

But the generous offer of my friend was rather premature; and if at that

time I had known that I was still to linger in this quarter for eight

months longer, in my then feeble condition, I should scarcely have been

able to support such an idea; but fortunately Providence does not reveal

to man what awaits him, and he toils on without rest in the dark.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, September 27th.]

This was the anniversary of the death of Mr. Overweg, my last and only

European companion, whom I had now outlived a whole year; and whom,

considering the feeble state of my health at this time, while my mind

was oppressed with the greatest anxiety, I was too likely soon to follow

to the grave. Nevertheless, feeling a little better when rising from my

simple couch in the morning, and confiding in the protection tendered me

by a man whose straightforward character was the theme of general

admiration, and which plainly appeared in the few lines which I had

received from him, I fondly cherished the hope that this day next year

it might be my good fortune to have fairly embarked upon my home journey

from Negroland, and perhaps not to be far from home itself. I therefore,

with cheerful spirit, made myself ready for my first audience, and

leaving my other presents behind, and taking only a small six-barrelled

pistol with me, which I was to present to the Sheikh, I proceeded to his

house, which was almost opposite my own, there intervening between them

only a narrow lane and a small square, where the Sheikh had established

his “msíd,” or daily place of prayer. Áhmed el Bakáy, son of Sídi

Mohammed, and grandson of Sídi Mukhtár[124], of the tribe of the Kunta,

was at that time a man of about fifty years of age, rather above the

middle height, full proportioned, with a cheerful, intelligent, and

almost European countenance, of a rather blackish complexion, with

whiskers of tolerable length, intermingled with some grey hair, and with

dark eyelashes. His dress consisted at the time of nothing but a black

tobe, a fringed shawl thrown loosely over the head, and trowsers, both

of the same colour.

I found my host in the small upper room on the terrace, in company with

his young nephew, Mohammed Ben Khottár, and two confidential pupils,

and, at the very first glance which I obtained of him, I was agreeably

surprised at finding a man whose countenance itself bore testimony to a

straightforward and manly character; both which qualities I had found so

sadly wanting in his younger brother, Sídi Álawáte. Cheered by the

expression of good-nature in his countenance as he rose from his seat to

receive me, and relieved from all anxiety, I paid him my compliments

with entire confidence, and entered into a conversation, which was

devoid of any affected and empty ceremonious phrases, but from the first

moment was an unrestrained exchange of thoughts, between two persons

who, with great national diversity of manners and ideas, meet for the

first time.

The pistol, however, with which I presented him, soon directed our

conversation to the subject of the superiority of Europeans in

manufacturing skill, and in the whole scale of human existence; and one

of the first questions which my host put to me was, whether it was true,

as the Ráís (Major Laing) had informed his father, Sídi Mohammed, during

his stay in Ázawád, that the capital of the British empire contained

twenty times 100,000 people.

I then learned to my great satisfaction what I afterwards found

confirmed by the facts stated in Major Laing’s correspondence[125], that

this most enterprising but unfortunate traveller, having been plundered

and almost killed by the Tawárek[126], in the valley Ahénnet, on his way

from Tawát, was conducted by his guides to, and made a long stay at, the

camp or station of the Sheikh’s father, Sídi Mohammed, in the hillet

Sídi el Mukhtár, the place generally called by Major Laing Beled Sídi

Mohammed, but sometimes Beled Sídi Mooktar, the Major being evidently

puzzled as to these names, and apt to confound the then head of the

family, Sídi Mohammed, with the ancestor Sídi Mukhtár, after whom that

holy place has been called. It is situated half a day’s journey from the

frequented well Bel Mehán, on the great northerly road, but is at

present deserted.[127]

We thus came to speak of Major Laing, here known under the name of E’

Ráís (the Major), the only Christian that my host, and most of the

people hereabouts, had ever seen; the French traveller, Réné Caillié,

who traversed this tract in 1828, having, in his poor disguise, entirely

escaped their observation, not to speak of the sailors Adams and Scott,

who are said to have visited this place, although their narrative does

not reveal a single trait which can be identified with its features.

Major Laing, during the whole time of our intercourse, formed one of the

chief topics of conversation, and my noble friend never failed to

express his admiration, not only of the Major’s bodily strength, but of

his noble and chivalrous character.[128] I made immediate inquiries with

regard to Major Laing’s papers, but unfortunately, not being provided

with a copy of the blue book containing all the papers relating to that

case, I had not the means of establishing all the points disputed. I

only learnt that at the time none of those papers were in existence,

although the Sheikh himself told me that the Major, while staying in

Ázawád, had drawn up a map of the whole northerly part of the desert

from Tawát as far south as the hillet or the place of residence of his

father.

Meanwhile, while we were conversing about the fate of my precursor in

the exploration of these regions, my host assured me repeatedly of my

own perfect safety in the place, and promised that he would send the

most faithful of his followers, Mohammed el ʿAísh, with me to the

Tawárek, from whence I might continue my journey in the company of my

former companion. Such, I think, was really his intention at the time,

but circumstances, which I am soon to detail, were to change all these

premature plans.

Having returned to my quarters, I sent my host his present, which

consisted of three bernúses, viz. one heláli, or white silk and cotton

mixed, and two of the finest cloth, one of green and the other of red

colour; two cloth kaftáns, one black and the other yellow; a carpet from

Constantinople; four tobes, viz., one very rich, of the kind called

“harír,” and bought for 30,000 shells, or twelve dollars, one of the

kind called filfil, and two best black tobes; twenty Spanish dollars in

silver; three black shawls, and several smaller articles, the whole

amounting to the value of about 30_l._ He then sent a message to me,

expressing his thanks for the liberality of the Government in whose

service I was visiting him, and stating that he did not want anything

more from me; but he begged that, after my safe return home, I would not

forget him, but would request Her Majesty’s Government to send him some

good fire-arms and some Arabic books; and I considered myself authorised

in assuring him, that I had no doubt the English Government would not

fail to acknowledge his services, if he acted in a straightforward

manner throughout.