THE CAPITAL OF KORDOFAN, LOBEID.
Lobeid, or Labayet, as it is also termed, is a town composed of
several villages, from one of which it neither differs in its
external appearance nor internal arrangements, excepting, perhaps,
in being of greater extent. The houses, like those of the villages,
are mere huts of straw, some few of them are, indeed, built of
clay, but not one single house is of stone. The former town of
the same name was totally destroyed by the Turks when they took
possession of Kordofan, and the six villages, of which the capital
of this province now consists, were subsequently built on the same
site. Although these villages are not separated from each other by
the intervention of a large space, yet each of them forms a separate
quarter, and is inhabited by a distinct class of men. _Wady Naghele_,
the first of these, is entirely inhabited by the Dongolavi and
foreign merchants; _El-Orta_, the camp, also named the town of
the Turks, is the quarter in which the government buildings are
situated, consisting of two Barracks, the arsenal, the hospital
and the residences of the officers, and of many married soldiers
living out of barrack; in this quarter of the town the Bazaar is
also seen. _Wady Soffie_ is the place of abode of the negroes who
immigrated with the Melik-Moussalem; _Takarir_ or _Takruri_, is
the village of the pilgrims, where the greater part of the negroes
from Pergu and other districts reside. In this part of the town the
straw-huts of _Abumedina_, the brother of the Sultan of Darfûr,[67]
are also situate. In _Kongeri_ those emigrants from Darfûr dwell,
who have become residents, and remained after the conquest of the
country by the Egyptian troops. The sixth village includes the new
buildings of the _Mogghrebeen_, who are not provided with barracks,
and have themselves built their own dwellings. These six villages
collectively form the town of Lobeid. I estimate the number of
inhabitants, exclusively of the military, at 12,000 souls. The
houses named in the language of the country, Tukkoli, are mostly
huts, similar to those described on a former occasion. The town
does not present a very pleasing appearance, and is, on the whole,
exceedingly dull and dismal, for very few large houses are to be
seen, and not even one minaret, met with in nearly every village in
Egypt, which, with the date-trees planted around them, give those
villages at least a more cheerful aspect.
Nothing can be more monotonous than the appearance of the town during
the dry season, when the detached houses present themselves with all
their defects and meanness, and the scanty trees and gardens offer
no diversification of scenery; for the former then stand as bald as
brooms, and the latter are not even thought of. The burning sand,
moreover, serves to remind the traveller that he is in a desert,
and there is not the slightest object to be seen that might delight
his eye.
How marked is the contrast in the rainy season! It is difficult to
persuade yourself that it is the same place you have shortly before
seen standing in barren nakedness. All those spots, where nothing but
sand was to be observed before, are now clad with a most luxuriant
verdure, interspersed with the most beautiful flowers. The hedges
round the houses are interlaced with a variety of creepers and
twining plants, whose variegated flowers afford a most pleasing
spectacle. The environs of the houses are cultivated with dockn,
which stands so high that the tops of the roofs are only to be
seen projecting beyond it; not a single house can be descried at a
distance, and the whole country appears like one large forest. The
entire town then resembles a park intersected by mazes, rendering
it difficult for a stranger to extricate himself, or to find out
a particular house. His embarrassment is greatly augmented by the
circumstance of there being several thousands of small straw huts,
and by the close resemblance of the houses to each other—for all
are built alike—so that the stranger experiences much trouble
in even recognising the house he may be lodging in. But all this
is in its way unique, and diverts the eye. The traveller wanders
with pleasure through these thousands and thousands of intricate
paths, and is delighted at every step with the beautiful variations
in the scene. At this time, however, the tropical showers set in,
bringing a number of disagreeables in their train; for the rain falls
so suddenly, and in such abundance, that the soil in some places
cannot absorb the water with sufficient rapidity; and thus streams
are formed, or the ground is ploughed up into beds, which fill in
an instant, rendering the intercourse between one quarter and the
other, or even from house to house, very difficult, if they do not
totally impede all communication. There are no bridges, not even
as much as boards laid down to facilitate the passage over these
brooks, and he who is obliged by business to go out immediately
after the rain, has no alternative but to wade through all these
streams and puddles barefooted. It would be impracticable at this
period to ride a donkey even, for notwithstanding their sureness
of foot, the ground is so uneven that they must tread into holes,
and both man and beast would run the risk of being drowned. Nearly
every year there are instances of loss of life from men venturing to
go from hut to hut by night, and it is really advisable to remain
confined to the house until these torrents are lost in the sand,
as is very soon the case.
As soon as the harvest is concluded, and the stubble is quite dry,
the natives proceed to burn the remaining herbage. This occupation
offers a very singular spectacle. The grass is in part collected
into heaps, and old and young congregate around them to witness
the exhibition which ensues: the pile is ignited, and a dense smoke
issues from it. Disturbed by the fumes, and frightened by the noise
of the multitude, thousands of locusts, which had lain concealed in
the grass, fly up, but are quickly seized upon by the bystanders,
impaled and roasted, and offered for sale in the market-place, at the
price of five for one para or hassasch; they constitute a favourite
dish with the natives, by whom they are greedily devoured. After
this act of purification the place again presents itself to view
in all its nakedness, and many other matters come to light, which
had hitherto been hidden by the grass: bones of men and animals lie
scattered about in all the roads, for no one thinks it worth his
trouble to inter them. The cause of this barbarity will be readily
understood when it is known that, as soon as a slave dies, a rope is
bound round his foot, by which he is dragged out of the hut with as
little ceremony as a dead beast, and scraped into the sand anywhere,
or even left to decompose in the grass until the hyænas come to gnaw
his bones in the night; the remains are devoured in the morning by
the dogs, two or more of which may not unfrequently be seen fighting
over a human arm or foot. The hyænas are really in some respects
a blessing to these countries, they are, in fact, the scavengers,
consume all the dead bodies and garbage, and thus prevent the air
from being poisoned with miasmata and nauseous vapours. A fallen
animal is treated in the same manner as a dead slave; it is thrown
on to the neighbours’ territory, and is likewise devoured in
the night by the beasts of prey; whilst the remainder is enjoyed
during the day by the hungry dogs, in company with greedy vultures,
eagles, and other rapacious birds. The places of sepulture are not
held sacred by these uninvited guests; for the dead bodies being
generally very superficially covered over with earth, they are
disinterred at night by the hyænas and ravenous dogs, and totally
consumed, or the remains are left exposed in the high roads.
Lobeid counts five mosques, only one of which is a brick
building. This is situated in the quarter of Wady-Naghele; it
is quite a plain edifice, without that decoration so generally
observed about the places of worship in Egypt. All the other
public buildings, as also the houses belonging to the chief Turks,
are simple huts of clay, differing from the others merely in
their internal arrangements, which consist, however, only in the
construction of a few divans. There are three barracks at Lobeid,
constituted by a series of straw-huts, likewise about fifty in
number, which are enclosed by a fence, furnished with an entrance,
the gate of which is represented by a large branch of a tree. The
hospital, that terror of all the soldiery, is also erected of
clay. One of the largest buildings in Lobeid is the governor’s
residence. It is distinguished from the other houses only by its
magnitude, and a rather more comfortable arrangement of its interior,
for in construction it resembles all the other buildings. There is,
in fact, no choice of material; thus the palaces of the great, and
the hovels of the lower orders, are raised of clay, and their outer
walls covered with a coating of cow-dung. Besides a large saloon
and court, the government-house has an orangery. In the court,
at the back of the house, the divan, or chamber of audience, is
situated, where public business is transacted, and the visits are
received of foreigners and natives, as also of all subordinates,
who, according to Eastern custom, are obliged to do honour to the
governor periodically. To the left of this saloon is the lesser
divan, as it is called, in which a captain disposes of the less
important matters, or arranges disputes, and other trifling affairs,
that the governor may not be unnecessarily troubled. The scriptoria
of the Coptic secretaries, met with in all Mehemed Ali’s divans are
situate on the left of the court. During my residence in Kordofan,
Mahommed Bey, colonel of the first regiment of the line, was at
the same time civil and military governor of the province. This
man, a Circassian by birth, who was brought as a slave to Egypt,
became a mameluke of Mehemed Ali’s, and in a short time rose to
his present high station. He is a man of very limited capacity,
without the slightest education, and is entirely governed by his
dependants and flatterers. Besides his ignorance, he possessed a
very large share of pride, and knew how to keep up the appearance
of great importance and dignity; he passed, however, the greater
part of his time in conversation with a fakeér, to whom he paid
far more attention than to his other subordinates, and whose visits
were far more agreeable to him than those of his officers. He could
not write at all, could read but little, and only understood how
to make the impression of his kashef[68] (seal). If instructions,
or other orders, arrived from Cairo, his secretary, a copt, was
obliged to read them aloud, and when he came to a passage which
was to be kept secret, he stopped him, and ordered him to finish
it in his private room; the reports for Egypt were then laid before
him to seal with his kashef: the remainder of his time he passed in
smoking, and drinking coffee; he very rarely walked in the open air,
or rode. To drink twenty or thirty cups of coffee daily was to him
a trifle, for as soon as a visitor arrived, he merely looked at the
attendants in the apartment, who understood his meaning instantly,
and brought coffee and pipes, the former was kept in an adjacent room
continually on the fire. It is a rule and should be made general to
pay the governor visits of etiquette, as they are termed, at certain
times, for the Turks attach great importance to this custom, and
a neglect of this mark of respect might give offence. Very often
visitors arrive, who, after a mute salutation, sit down, as soon
as invited to do so, drink the coffee presented to them, and in
a short time rise, taking their departure as mutely as they came,
with a silent greeting.
The ammunition, and other military stores, are contained in an
appropriate building, enclosed by a mud wall, and surrounded by a
fosse, which is, however, scantily supplied with water during three
months, and remains empty for the remainder of the year. The wall
is constructed of clay, and might easily be breached by stones. It
may be imagined what superintendence is there prevalent; and it is
really astonishing that an invasion is not undertaken on the part of
the natives of Darfour to revenge themselves for the loss of their
stolen camels, more especially at the time of the slave-hunts, when
nearly the whole of the military force is absent, and the entire
garrison of Kordofan does not consist of six hundred men. They
might very soon, and with but little trouble at that time, capture
or destroy all the military supplies, and before a reinforcement
could be despatched from the Nuba mountains, the enemy might plunder
and sack everything without meeting with the slightest resistance.
Opposite the government buildings the gallows is erected. This engine
of civilization is composed of two posts driven vertically into the
ground, and surmounted by a cross-beam, to which the victims of a
rigid penal law are suspended, without further ceremony. Not far
from the fatal scaffold is an elevation, or clay mound, furnished
with a few steps, where the priest reads a prayer on high-feasts, the
service being only attended by the male population of the town. The
Soock, or proper market-place, is contiguous to this mound. It
would be an egregious fallacy to imagine that order reigned here
predominant, as in other towns in the equally uncivilized East;
for not only are all objects intended for sale jumbled pell-mell
together, and exposed without consideration to the inclemencies
of the weather, and other destructive influence, but it costs,
moreover, indescribable trouble to obtain even such articles as
you may be willing to purchase. Close to this market-place on
the right, stands the only coffee-house in the whole province
of Kordofan. In the year 1838 it was closed, and no tenant was
to be found for a considerable time on account of the high rent
demanded by the government; the price of coffee had also risen at
this period to eighteen piasters (five shillings and threepence)
the rottolo (about three quarters of a pound), as none had arrived
from Abyssinia. In the year 1839 the establishment was again opened
by the new governor Yussuff-Bey, in consideration of this beverage
being so indispensable to the Turkish officers.
The remaining store-houses consist of three walls of clay covered
in by a thatched roof; the goods are here laid down on the sand
and exposed, as I before mentioned, to all weathers. The upper part
of the market-place is appropriated to the sale of dockn, camels,
cows, sheep, goats, asses, and other domestic animals; next to these
may be seen the djelabi with the commodity they have brought from
Cairo lying on the sand; then come the water-dealers, and lastly,
at either side of the soock, the women exhibit themselves, sitting
down in four or six rows, to sell sour milk, butter, lard, garden and
wild fruits; they bring also in addition to the articles mentioned,
tobacco pipe-bowls, eggs, etc., for sale; the stands of the dealers
in wood and grass are contiguous to these, and occupy a large extent
of the market-place, for as wood and grass may be collected by any
one, there is considerable competition in this branch of trade. The
portion of the market occupied by the women, affords a most singular
sight, for they sit crowded together without order or regard for
personal comfort, and the small vacant space is densely filled with
buyers, who will not budge an inch to make room for each other; thus,
in order to move from place to place, you have, literally speaking,
to walk over the heads of the women, cowering down on the ground,
and they allow this want of gallantry without a murmur. Altogether,
that quarrelling, so common in Egyptian markets, is never to be
heard here. Beside the retailers and venders, the public criers must
be mentioned; these people deal in old clothes and other articles,
and have no permanent stand, but holding the object for sale high up
in their hands, dispose of it according to the custom in other towns
in Egypt, to the highest bidder. This description of auction is not
carried on at a fixed place, for the auctioneer, bawling out the
price last bid, presses through the crowd of human beings, and runs
from place to place until an advance is made, whereupon he is obliged
to return to the former bidder, and inform him that his offer has
been superseded. It is very remarkable that these criers can always
accurately find out the man who has made a bid for the article in
question, and thus expressed a wished to become a purchaser, in the
immense crowd. If no one advance on the last offer the article put
up for sale is delivered after several perambulations to the highest
bidder. This species of auction is the public sale in common vogue in
Egypt. If an European die leaving many effects, a formal auction is
advertised by his respective consul, and the chattels are publicly
sold in the same manner as in Europe; inconsiderable relics are,
however, disposed of by the criers above-mentioned. Market lasts at
Lobeid generally from three o’clock in the afternoon until sunset;
for the heat during the day being insupportable, no one leaves his
house without cogent reasons, before three in the afternoon, and it
would thus be useless for the merchants and dealers to congregate
in the market-place at an early hour.
Provisions and articles of domestic economy produced in the country
are, generally speaking, cheap; but in Lobeid, as in all other
capitals, they are more expensive than in the environs, where they
may be procured at a distance of eight or twelve miles from the town,
at two-thirds of their cost in the market-place. A large sheep,
the price of which is from fifteen to eighteen piasters in Lobeid,
may be bought in the villages, at a distance of not quite twelve
miles from the town, for six piasters at the utmost, and the same
observation applies proportionately to all other provisions. The
price of the finest camels is on an average one hundred and fifty
piasters, that of ordinary animals from forty to eighty piasters
(from eight to sixteen shillings). The most revolting scene on the
Soock, is the sale of slaves, which takes place every day throughout
the year. The unfortunate being offered for sale is led about like
any other commodity by the crier, who expatiates upon the beauty,
or other characteristics of the slave, and walking before him,
bawls out the price. If a purchaser present himself, he enters
upon an examination of his fellow creature, as we should examine
a head of cattle, in Europe; he looks at his teeth, eyes, hands,
and feet, and inquires into his age, place of birth, and in short,
into every circumstance which might influence his price while the
unfortunate wretch follows the crier like a dog, anxiously awaiting
his future fate. A mother may not be separated from the infant at her
breast, but children of three or four years of age may be disposed
of separately; the latter are very reasonable; their price varies
only from thirty to sixty piasters (eight and sixpence to seventeen
shillings). Full-grown slaves fluctuate according to the supply
of the market; girls and boys from ten to fifteen years of age,
are in the greatest request, and cost from one hundred to three
hundred piasters; if there be few for sale, and many Djelabi are
about to travel to Cairo, the price, of course, rises. There are
certain conditions under which a slave may be returned to the vender,
_e. g._ if he have offensive breath, or snore in his sleep, or be
troubled with incontinence of urine, for any one of these vices he
may be sent back at the expiration of the third day; should a female
slave be pregnant, the term is somewhat prolonged. The slave-trade is
not always carried on in retail, for the Djelabi buy slaves in lots;
on these occasions, however, the individuals are singly examined,
and the aged and infirm are separated from the flock. The chief
object is to have as many young girls and boys as possible in a
lot, and to be able to transport them safely to Egypt; thus every
one in purchasing a male or female slave, looks chiefly to their
age, and a boy or girl, beyond the thirteenth or fifteenth year,
is seldom sold in the bazaar of Cairo or Alexandria; every one, in
fact, prefers bringing them up according to his own taste, and for
this purpose selects the youngest. The older women and men exposed
for sale in the bazaar, of the towns above named, are mostly such
as are resold by their masters for some particular defect, and it
is by no means, therefore, advisable to purchase them.
The soock, or market is the only place of diversion for the European
or stranger in general, at Lobeid. Besides the pleasing spectacle
afforded by the bustle of the place, the crowd, and various groups of
dealers and Djelabs, all the Turkish officers, Coptic secretaries,
and the few foreign merchants collect in the market-place, around
the single coffee-house we have before mentioned, where each man
endeavours to surpass the other in retailing news. Although deep
in the interior of Africa, there is no lack of news from the most
distant parts of the world; and even when at the time of the heavy
rains the communication with Egypt is interrupted, intelligence may
be heard every day from that quarter; sometimes it consists of a
most palpable tissue of lies; yet it is greedily devoured by many a
patient ear, because agreeable to the majority of the audience. The
report usually circulates that Mehemed Ali is at war with the Turks
in Syria, and carrying on warfare at the same time in Arabia, and
is beaten everywhere; then it is generally added, that the regiment
quartered at Lobeid would receive orders by the next dromedary to
march to Egypt. This is, of course, most pleasing intelligence to
the Turkish officers, who are ardently longing for a release, and is
bruited about with innumerable variations and additions. Then they
talk about England, Germany, Russia, and France, these being the only
countries in Europe with which the Turks are acquainted. In one or
the other of these states there is sure to be always war declared by
the Grand Sultan, because the sultan of the country which happens to
form the topic of conversation has failed to pay the tribute due to
Constantinople; for the majority of the Turks still uphold the absurd
opinion that these four countries are tributary to the Grand Sultan
of Constantinople. Thus the conversation turns upon these political
questions. If a sudden shower should happen to come on when least
expected; for the rain, as in all tropical countries, generally
falls in torrents, and, indeed, without the slightest premonitory
sign, so that it is difficult even to reach a place of shelter, the
confusion thus created would excite the most hypochondriacal person
to laughter. The mass of human beings who stood, or sat, crowded
together like a swarm of locusts, are in an instant scattered in all
directions. The screams of the women, afraid of losing their goods
in the crowd or of seeing them spoiled by the rain; the cries of the
children who have lost their way, and are in search of their parents;
the alertness of the men, who like all the rest dread the rain more
than blows, and endeavour to escape as quickly as they can, all tend
to render the scene of confusion so ludicrous, that the most stern
spectator would be involuntarily disposed to laugh. It is not the
fear of ruining their garments that induces them to scamper away so
fast from the rain, for the most of them have no clothes to spoil,
and the Djelabi merely wear a shirt, which the contact of a little
pure water, moreover, could not harm; and the Turks and foreigners
who are entirely dressed wear linen clothing, which water cannot
injure; and yet they stand in as much awe of every drop of rain
as if burning sparks were falling among them. They are impressed
with the absurd idea that to get once a little wet is sufficient
to produce a fever. Their apprehension is, strictly speaking, not
so very erroneous, for the slightest cold during the rainy season
is sufficient to stretch the most healthy man on a bed of sickness,
from which it will be very doubtful whether he recover.
High feasts and festivals create no variation in the ordinary scene,
as a general rule, and none of those fantasias[69] so common in
Egypt are seen on Sundays and holidays at Lobeid; the only amusement,
as I have before observed, consists in the dances and songs of the
women and girls, after sunset, when every one returns to his house.
In the quarter of the town named _Kongeri_, which is inhabited by
the men of Darfour, dwells the sheikh Sultan Tehme, a descendant of
the sultans of Darfour. His present occupation is very ill-suited
to his illustrious birth, for he is the mutilator of those poor
boys who subsequently serve as guards in the various harems. This
sheikh possesses two of the largest copper kettle-drums I ever saw
in my life; they were presented to him by Mehemed Ali, as a mark of
distinction. These drums are beaten all day long on every Friday
and festival; but their sound is by no means very agreeable to
those who are not over fond of music. This sheikh presents a very
imposing appearance, for though black as the night, he has a very
luxuriant beard, not very general among the negroes, which he dies
with a pomatum of a bright red colour; it forms a striking contrast
with his black shining face. When he rides into the country his
horse is preceded by two musicians blowing during the whole march
on a leathern pipe with eight holes.
When I arrived at Lobeid I only found one single European living,
Dr. Iken, whom I have before mentioned, a native of Hanover, who,
like most of the Europeans, after a short residence there paid his
tribute to the climate. He is buried in the court of his own house,
which is situated in the quarter or village of _Takarir_, near
the residence of the sultan Abumedina of Darfûr. The government
has appropriated his house to themselves, and converted it into
a magazine for leather. Seven other Europeans, besides Dr. Iken,
breathed their last at Lobeid, and are buried on the north side of
the hospital square. I planted a tree on each grave, and had already
fixed upon a place of rest near them. After I had recovered from my
dangerous illness in a slight measure, and was just able to creep
along with the assistance of a stick, my favourite promenade was to
those graves; they were the only relics of Europeans I could find in
that distant country, and I was under the influence of a peculiar
feeling when arriving at those hillocks; I knew myself in the
company of Europeans, although departed from this world; I fancied
myself in reality in their presence, and I could have believed that
they were listening with sympathy to my soft complaints, heard my
longing voice for my distant fatherland, and were congratulating me
on my recovery and speedy departure from this country, so fatal to
Europeans. When I paid my last visit to this spot I was overpowered
by that same feeling we experience when parting with our friends.
Taking a summary view of Lobeid it appears only to be a large
village; the barren country around it presents a slightly excavated
surface, and the rain-water flowing towards the village forms a
torrent which runs towards the north, but soon disappears in the
sand. The environs are cultivated with dockn. Lobeid offers many
spectacles rendering it interesting to the traveller, the chief of
which is the concourse of men from the most distant parts of Africa,
even from Timbuctoo, and other negro states as yet totally unknown
to Europeans. Before the first rays of the sun emerge from the sea
of desert sand, the whole of the population is on foot, and each
man begins the business of the day; with the majority, however,
this only consists in lying on the sand, or visiting his neighbour
when the same interesting occupation is performed in company. The
flocks are driven to their pasture by a shepherd riding on his ox,
the slaves are led to work with chains on their feet, caravans are
passing and repassing, and all this affords an unique exhibition. In
the streets songs are heard everywhere, even the female slave at
the Morak sings her plaintive ditty of attachment to her home,
whilst grinding the corn; in fact all is life and motion as in a
beehive; but from 11 o’clock A.M. till 3 o’clock P.M., during
the hot months, quietude and silence reign in the streets, and the
whole town resembles a city of the dead; every one seeks shelter
from the fierce rays of a vertical sun in his own hut, and there
enjoys his rest, for it is impossible to exist out of the shade;
only a few hungry dogs may then be seen running about in the streets,
and even they do not remain long in the open air, but seek a shady
place with all speed, where they may protect themselves from the
burning heat. This recess lasts until 3 o’clock, when every one,
refreshed by his siesta, returns to his occupations. The streets now
become again as animated as they were at sunrise, but the most lively
scene is then in the market-place; this state of activity lasts until
the sun sets, when the inhabitants all retire again to their houses
to recover from the fatigues of the day. The streets become suddenly
empty, for with sunset night closes in; there is no twilight, and
every one is anxious for repose. This silence continues until they
have all finished their frugal meal, for the poorest man finds the
necessaries of life in his hut, or should he really suffer want, goes
to his nearest neighbour, where his wants are willingly supplied. As
soon as the repast is over, large fires may be seen burning before
the huts far and near; drums, beating of hands, and songs resound
in all directions, and the girls and young men congregate for the
merry dance, which is kept up until midnight; and then the whole
town once more becomes as suddenly silent, for each man, with but
few exceptions, betakes himself again to rest. The streets are now,
indeed, wrapped in the silence of the grave, save that the stillness
of the night is occasionally interrupted by the howl of a hyaena,
or the yelling of the timid dogs. This mode of life is repeated
daily, and but rarely undergoes even the slightest variation.