[p.26] are three different sorts. 1. The Kedra, which is the largest,
and rests upon a tripod; it is always neatly worked, and found only in
private houses. 2. The Shishe (called in Syria Argyle), of a smaller
size, but, like the former, joined to a long serpentine tube (called
lieh), through which the smoke is inhaled. 3. The Bury. This consists of
an unpolished cocoa-nut shell, which contains water; a thick reed
answers the purpose of the serpentine tube: this pipe is the constant
companion of the lower classes, and of all the sailors of the Red Sea,
who indulge most inordinately in using it. The tobacco smoked in the two
former of these pipes comes from the Persian gulf; the best is from
Shiraz. An inferior sort (called tombak) comes from Basra and Baghdad;
the leaf is of a light yellow colour, and much stronger in taste than
common tobacco; it is, therefore, previously washed to render it milder.
The tombak used in the Bury comes from Yemen, and is of the same species
as the other, but of an inferior quality. The trade in this article is
very considerable, its consumption in the Hedjaz being almost incredibly
great; large quantities are also shipped for Egypt. The common pipe is
little used in the Hedjaz, except by Turkish soldiers and Bedouins. The
tobacco is of Egyptian growth, or from Sennar, whence it is carried to
Sowakin. Very little good Syrian tobacco finds its way across the Red
Sea.
The coffee-houses are filled with people during the whole day; and in
front a shed is generally erected, under which persons also sit. The
rooms, benches, and small low chairs, are very filthy, and form a
contrast to the neatness and elegance observable in the coffee-houses of
Damascus. Respectable merchants are never seen in a coffee-house; but
those of the third class, and sea-faring people, make it their constant
resort. Every person has his particular house, where he meets those who
have business with him. An Arab, who cannot afford to ask his friend to
dine, invites him from the coffee-house, when he sees him pass, to enter
and take
[p.27] a cup, and is highly offended if the invitation be rejected. When
his friend enters, he orders the waiter to bring him a cup, and the
waiter, in presenting it, exclaims aloud, so that every one in the place
may hear him, djebba! (gratis). An Arab may cheat his creditors, or be
guilty of bad faith in his dealings, and yet escape public censure; but
he would be covered with infamy, if it were known that he had attempted
to cheat the coffee-house waiter of his due. The Turkish soldiers have
done their utmost in this respect to increase the contempt in which they
are held by the Arabs. I never saw in the coffee-houses of the Hedjaz
any of those story-tellers who are so common in Egypt, and still more in
Syria. The Mangal [See Niebuhrs Travels.] is generally played in all of
them, and the Dama, a kind of draughts, differing somewhat from the
European game; but I never happened to see chess played in the Hedjaz,
though I heard that it is not uncommon, and that the sherifs in
particular are fond of it.
Near to almost every coffee-shop a person takes his stand, who sells
cooled water in small perfumed jars. [The Orientals often drink water
before coffee, but never immediately after. I was once recognised in
Syria as a foreigner or European, in consequence of having called for
water just after I had taken coffee. If you were of this country ,
said the waiter, you would not spoil the taste of the coffee in your
mouth by washing it away with water.]
Twenty-one butter-sellers, who likewise retail honey, oil, and vinegar.
Butter forms the chief article in Arab cookery, which is more greasy
than even that of Italy. Fresh butter, called by the Arabs zebde, is
very rarely seen in the Hedjaz. It is a common practice amongst all
classes to drink every morning a coffee-cup full of melted butter or
ghee, after which coffee is taken. They regard it as a powerful tonic,
and are so much accustomed to it from their earliest youth, that they
would feel great inconvenience in discontinuing the use of it. The
higher classes content themselves
[p.28] with drinking the quantity of butter, but the lower orders add a
half-cup more, which they snuff up their nostrils, conceiving that they
prevent foul air from entering the body by that channel. The practice is
universal as well with the inhabitants of the town as with the Bedouins.
The lower classes are likewise in the habit of rubbing their breasts,
shoulders, arms, and legs, with butter, as the negroes do, to refresh
the skin. During the war, the import of this article from the interior
had almost entirely ceased; but even in time of peace, it is not
sufficient for the consumption of Djidda; some is, therefore, brought
also from Sowakin; but the best sort, and that which is in greatest
plenty, comes from Massowah, and is called here Dahlak butter: whole
ships cargoes arrive from thence, the greater part of which is again
carried to Mekka. Butter is likewise imported from Cosseir; this comes
from Upper Egypt, and is made from buffaloes milk; the Sowakin and
Dahlak ghee is from sheeps milk.
The Hedjaz abounds with honey in every part of the mountains. The best
comes from those which are inhabited by the Nowaszera Bedouins, to the
south of Tayf. Among the lower classes, a common breakfast is a mixture
of ghee and honey poured over crumbs of bread as they come quite hot
from the oven. The Arabs, who are very fond of paste, never eat it
without honey.
The oil used for lamps is that of Sesamum (Seeredj, brought from Egypt).
The Arabs do not use oil for culinary purposes, except in frying fish,
or with broken paste to be given to the poor. Salad, of which the
northern Turks are so fond, is never seen on an Arabian table.
Eighteen vegetable or fruit-stands. The number of these has now greatly
increased, on account of the Turkish troops, who are great devourers of
vegetables. All the fruits come from Tayf, behind Mekka, which is rich
in gardens. I found here in July grapes of the best kind, with which the
mountains behind Mekka
[p.29] abound; pomegranates of middling quality; quinces, which have not
the harsh taste of those in Europe, and may be eaten raw; peaches;
lemons of the smallest size only, like those of Cairo; bitter oranges;
bananas--these do not grow at Tayf, but are brought by the Medina road
principally from Safra, Djedeyda, and Kholeys. These fruits last till
November. In March, water melons are brought from Wady Fatmé, which are
said to be small, but of a good flavour. The Arabs eat little fruit
except grapes; they say it produces bile, and occasions flatulency, in
which they are probably not mistaken. The fruit sold at Djidda is
particularly unwholesome; for having been packed up at Tayf in an unripe
state, it acquires a factitious maturity by fermentation during the
journey. The Turks quarrel and fight every morning before the shops, in
striving to get the fruits, which are in small quantities and very dear.
Vegetables are brought to Djidda from Wady Fatmé, six or eight miles
distant to the north, which also supplies Mekka. The usual kinds are
Meloukhye, Bamye, Portulaca egg-plants, or Badingans, cucumbers, and
very small turnips, of which the leaves are eaten, and the root is
thrown away as useless. Radishes and leeks are the only vegetables
regularly and daily used in Arab cookery; they are very small, and the
common people eat them raw with bread. In general, the Arabs consume
very few vegetables, their dishes being made of meat, rice, flour, and
butter. In these fruit-shops, tamarind (called here Homar) is also sold;
it comes from the East Indies, not in cakes, like that from the negro
countries, but in its natural form, though much decomposed. When boiled
in water, it constitutes a refreshing beverage, and is given to sick
people boiled with meat into a stew.
Eight date-sellers. Of all eatables used by the Arabs, dates are the
most favourite; and they have many traditions from their prophet,
showing the pre-eminence of dates above all other kinds of food. The
importation of dates is uninterrupted during the whole year. At the end
of June, the new fruit (called ruteb) comes in: this lasts for two
months, after which, for the remainder of the
[p.30] year, the date-paste, called adjoue, is sold. This is formed by
pressing the dates, when fully ripe, into large baskets so forcibly as
to reduce them to a hard solid paste or cake, each basket weighing
generally about two hundred weight; in this state the Bedouins export
the adjoue; in the market it is cut out of the basket and sold by the
pound. This adjoue forms a part of the daily food among all classes of
people. In travelling, it is dissolved in water, and thus affords a
sweet and refreshing drink. There are upwards of twelve different sorts
of adjoue; the best comes from Taraba, behind Tayf (now occupied by the
Wahabis.) The most common kind at present in the market is that from
Fatmé; and the better sort, that from Kheleys, and Djedeyde, on the road
to Medina. During the monsoon, the ships from the Persian gulf bring
adjoue from Basra for sale, in small baskets, weighing about ten pounds
each; this kind is preferred to every other. The East-India ships, on
their return, take off a considerable quantity of the paste, which is
sold to great profit among the muselmans of Hindostan.
Four pancake-makers, who sell, early in the morning, pancakes fried in
butter; a favourite breakfast.
Five bean-sellers. These sell for breakfast also, at an early hour,
Egyptian horse-beans boiled in water, which are eaten with ghee and
pepper. The boiled beans are called mudammes; they form a favourite dish
with the people of Egypt, from whom the Arabs have adopted it.
Five sellers of sweetmeats, sugar-plums, and different sorts of
confectionary, of which the Hedjaz people are much fonder than any
Orientals I have seen; they eat them after supper, and in the evening
the confectioners stands are surrounded by multitudes of buyers. The
Indians are the best makers of them. I saw no articles of this kind here
that I had not already found in Egypt; the Baktawa, Gnafe, and Ghereybe,
are as common here as at Aleppo and Cairo.
Two kebab shops, where roasted meat is sold; these are kept by Turks,
the kebab not being an Arab dish.
[p.31] Two soup-sellers, who also sell boiled sheeps heads and feet,
and are much visited at mid-day.
One seller of fish fried in oil, frequented by all the Turkish and Greek
sailors.
Ten or twelve stands where bread is sold, generally by women; the bread
has an unpleasant flavour, the meal not having been properly cleansed,
and the leaven being bad. A loaf of the same size as that which at Cairo
is sold for two paras, costs here, though of a much worse quality, eight
paras.
Two sellers of leben, or sour milk, which is extremely scarce and dear
all over the Hedjaz. It may appear strange that, among the shepherds of
Arabia, there should be a scarcity of milk, yet this was the case at
Djidda and Mekka; but, in fact, the immediate vicinity of these towns is
extremely barren, little suited to the pasturage of cattle, and very few
people are at the expense of feeding them for their milk only. When I
was at Djidda, the rotolo or pound of milk (for it is sold by weight)
cost one piastre and a half, and could only be obtained by favour. What
the northern Turks called yoghort, and the Syrians and Egyptians leben-
hamed, [Very thick milk, rendered sour by boiling and the addition of a
strong acid.] does not appear to be a native Arab dish; the Bedouins of
Arabia, at least, never prepare it.
Two shops, kept by Turks, where Greek cheese, dried meat, dried apples,
figs, raisins, apricots, called kammareddin, &c. are sold at three
times the price paid in Cairo. The cheese comes from Candia, and is much
in request among all the Turkish troops. An indifferent sort of cheese
is made in the Hedjaz; it is extremely white, although salted, does not
keep long, and is not by any means very nutritive. The Bedouins
themselves care little for cheese; they either drink their milk, or make
it into butter. The dried meat sold in these shops is the salted and
smoked beef of Asia Minor, known all over Turkey by the name of
bastorma, and
[p.32] much relished by travellers. The Turkish soldiers and the Hadjis
are particularly fond of it, but the Arabs never can be induced to taste
it; many of them, observing that it differs in appearance from all other
meat with which they are acquainted, persist in regarding it as pork,
and the estimation in which they hold the Turkish soldiery and their
religious principles is not likely to remove their prejudices on this
head. All the dried fruits above mentioned, except the apricots, come
from the Archipelago; the latter are sent from Damascus all over Arabia,
where they are considered a luxury, particularly among the Bedouins. The
stone is extracted and the fruit reduced to a paste, and spread out upon
its leaves to dry in the sun. It makes a very pleasant sauce when
dissolved in water. On all their marches through the Hedjaz, the Turkish
troops live almost entirely upon biscuit and this fruit.
Eleven large shops of corn-dealers, where Egyptian wheat, barley, beans,
lentils, dhourra, [Or durra, from Sowakin, which comes from Taka, in the
interior of Nubia, and a small-grained sort from Yemen, are also sold
here.] Indian and Egyptian rice, biscuits, &c. may be purchased. The
only wheat now sold in the Hedjaz comes from Egypt. In time of peace,
there is a considerable importation from Yemen into Mekka and Djidda,
and from Nedjed to Medina; but the imports from Egypt are by far the
most considerable, and the Hedjaz may truly be said to depend upon Egypt
for corn. The corn-trade was formerly in the hands of individuals, and
the Sherif Ghaleb also speculated in it; but at the present, Mohammed
Aly Pasha has taken it entirely into his own hands, and none is sold
either at Suez or Cosseir to private persons, every grain being shipped
on account of the Pasha. This is likewise the case with all other
provisions, as rice, butter, biscuits, onions, of which latter great
quantities are imported. At the time of my residence in the Hedjaz, this
country not producing a sufficiency, the Pasha sold the grain at Djidda
for the price of
[p.33] from one hundred and thirty to one hundred and sixty piastres per
erdeb, and every other kind of provision in proportion; the corn cost
him twelve piastres by the erdeb in Upper Egypt, and including the
expense of carriage from Genne to Cosseir, and freight thence to Djidda,
twenty-five or thirty piastres. This enormous profit was alone
sufficient to defray his expenses in carrying on the Wahaby war; but it
was little calculated to conciliate the good-will of the people. His
partisans, however, excused him, by alleging that, in keeping grain at
high prices, he secured the Bedouins of the Hedjaz in his interest, as
they depend upon Mekka and Djidda for provisions, and they were thus
compelled to enter into his service, and receive his pay, to escape
starvation. The common people of the Hedjaz use very little wheat; their
bread is made either of durra or barley-flour, both of which are one-
third cheaper than wheat; or they live entirely upon rice and butter.
This is the case also with most of the Bedouins of Tehama, on the coast.
The Yemen people in Djidda eat nothing but durra. Most of the rice used
at Djidda is brought as ballast by the ships from India. The best sort
comes from Guzerat and Cutch: it forms the chief article of food among
the people of the Hedjaz, who prefer it to the rice from Egypt, because
they think it more wholesome than the former, which is used exclusively
by the Turks and other strangers from the north-ward. The grain of the
Indian rice is larger and longer than the common sort of Egypt, and is
of a yellowish colour; whereas the latter has a reddish tint; but the
best sorts of both are snow-white. The Indian rice swells more in
boiling than the Egyptian, and is for this reason preferred by the
Arabs, as a smaller quantity of it will fill a dish; but the Egyptian
rice is more nutritive. The Indian rice is rather cheaper, and is
transported from Djidda to Mekka, Tayf, Medina, and thence as far as
Nedjed. A mixture of equal portions of rice and lentils, over which
butter is poured,
[p.34] forms a favourite preparation with the middle class, and
generally their only dish at supper. [This dish is known in Syria, and
called there medjeddereh, because the lentils in the rice look like a
persons face marked with the small-pox, or djedreh.] I found, in every
part of the Hedjaz, that the Bedouins, when travelling, carried no other
provision than rice, lentils, butter, and dates. The importation of
biscuits from Egypt has of late been very considerable, for the use of
the Turkish army. The Arabians do not like and seldom eat them even on
board their ships, where they bake their unleavened cake every morning
in those small ovens which are found in all the ships of every size that
navigate the Red Sea.
Salt is sold by the corn-dealers. Sea-salt is collected near Djidda, and
is a monopoly in the hands of the sherif. The inhabitants of Mekka
prefer rock-salt, which is brought thither by the Bedouins from some
mountains in the neighbourhood of Tayf.
Thirty-one tobacco-shops, in which are sold Syrian and Egyptian tobacco,
tombac, or tobacco for the Persian pipe, pipe-heads and pipe-snakes,
cocoa-nuts, coffee-beans, keshre, soap, almonds, Hedjaz raisins, and
some other articles of grocery. The Egyptian tobacco, sometimes mixed
with that of Sennar, is the cheapest, and in great demand throughout the
Hedjaz. There are two sorts of it: the leaf of one is green, even when
dry; this is called ribbé, and comes from Upper Egypt: the other is
brown-leaved, the best sort of which grows about Tahta, to the south of
Siout. During the power of the Wahabys, tobacco could not be sold
publicly; but as all the Bedouins of the Hedjaz are passionately fond of
it, persons sold it clandestinely in their shops, not as tobacco or
dokhan, but under the name of the wants of a man. Long snakes for the
Persian pipe, very prettily worked, are imported from Yemen. Cocoa-nuts
are brought from the East Indies, as well as from the south-eastern
coast of Africa and the Somawly country, and may
[p.35] be had quite fresh, at low prices, during the monsoon. The people
of Djidda and Mekka appear to be very fond of them. The larger nuts, as
already mentioned, are used for the boury, or common Persian pipe, and
the smallest for snuff-boxes.
Soap comes from Suez, whither it is carried from Syria, which supplies
the whole coast of the Red Sea with it. The soap-trade is considerable,
and, for the greater part, in the hands of the merchants from Hebron,
(called in Arabic el Khalyl or the Khalylis,) who bring it to Djidda,
where some of them are always to be found. The almonds and raisins come
from Tayf and the Hedjaz mountains; large quantities of both are
exported, even to the East Indies. The almonds are of most excellent
quality; the raisins are small and quite black, but very sweet. An
intoxicating liquor is prepared from them.
Eighteen druggists. These are all natives of the East Indies, and mostly
from Surat. In addition to all kinds of drugs, they sell wax candles,
paper, sugar, perfumery, and incense; the latter is much used by the
inhabitants of the towns, where all the respectable families perfume
their best rooms every morning. Mastic and sandal-wood, burnt upon
charcoal, are most commonly used for this purpose. Spices of all sorts,
and heating drugs, are universally used in the Hedjaz. Coffee is rarely
drunk in private houses without a mixture of cardamoms or cloves; and
red pepper, from India or Egypt, enters into every dish. A considerable
article of trade among the druggists of Djidda and Mekka consists in
rose-buds, brought from the gardens of Tayf. The people of the Hedjaz,
especially the ladies, steep them in water, which they afterwards use
for their ablutions; they also boil these roses with sugar, and make a
conserve of them. The sugar sold in the drug-gists shops is brought
from India; it is of a yellowish white colour, and well refined, but in
powder. A small quantity of Egyptian sugar is imported, but the people
here do not like it; in general, they prefer every thing that comes from
India, which they conceive
[p.36] to be of a superior quality; in the same manner as English
produce and manufactures are preferred on the continent of Europe. The
Indian druggists are all men of good property; their trade is very
lucrative, and no Arabs can rival them in it. At Mekka, also, and at
Tayf, Medina, and Yembo, all the druggists are of Indian descent; and
although they have been established in the country for several
generations, and completely naturalized, yet they continue to speak the
Hindu language, and distinguish themselves in many trifling customs from
the Arabs, by whom they are in general greatly disliked, and accused of
avarice and fraud.
Eleven shops where small articles of Indian manufacture are sold, such
as china-ware, pipe-heads, wooden spoons, glass heads, knives, rosaries,
mirrors, cards, &c. These shops are kept by Indians, mostly from Bombay.
Very little European hardware finds its way hither, except needles,
scissors, thimbles, and files; almost every thing else of this kind
comes from India. The earthenware of China is greatly prized in the
Hedjaz. The rich inhabitants display very costly collections of it,
disposed upon shelves in their sitting-rooms, as may be remarked also in
Syria. I have seen, both at Mekka and Djidda, china dishes brought to
table, measuring at least two feet and a half in diameter, carried by
two persons, and containing a sheep roasted entire. The glass beads
exported from Djidda are chiefly for the Souakin and Abyssinian market;
they are partly of Venetian and partly of Hebron manufacture. The
Bedouin women of the Hedjaz likewise wear them; though bracelets, made
of black horn, and amber necklaces, seem to be more in fashion among
them. It is in these shops that the agate beads, called reysh, [See
Travels in Nubia, article Shendy.] are sold, which come from Bombay,
and are used in the very heart of Africa. A kind of red beads, made of
wax, are seen here in great quantities; they come from India, and are
[p.37] mostly destined for Abyssinia. Of rosaries, a great variety is
sold: those made of yoser [From this, the principal lane of Djidda is
called Hosh Yosser.] are the most costly; it is a species of coral which
grows in the Red Sea. The best sort is found between Djidda and Gonfode,
is of a deep black colour, and takes a fine polish. Strings of one
hundred beads each are sold at from one to four dollars, according to
their size. They are made by the turners of Djidda, and are much in
demand for the Malays. Other rosaries, (also brought from India,) made
of the odoriferous kalambac, and of the sandal-wood, are in great demand
throughout Egypt and Syria. Few pilgrims leave the Hedjaz without taking
from the holy cities same of these rosaries, as presents to their
friends at home.
Eleven clothes-shops. In these various articles of dress are sold every
morning by public auction. The greater part of those dresses are of the
Turkish fashion, adopted by merchants of the first and second classes,
with some trifling national variations in the cut of the clothes. During
the period of the Hadj, these shops are principally frequented for the
purchase of the Hiram or Ihram, that mantle in which the pilgrimage is
performed, and which consists generally of two long pieces of white
Indian cambric. Here, too, the Hedjaz Bedouins come to buy the woollen
abbas, or Bedouin cloaks, brought from Egypt, on which country they
entirely depend for this article; and thus they seem to possess the same
indolent character as most people of the Hedjaz; for it is customary
with the wives of other Bedouins to fabricate their own abbas. Here,
also, they bring Turkish carpets of an inferior quality, which form an
indispensable article of furniture for the tent of a Sheikh. In these
shops are likewise retailed all other imports from Egypt necessary for
dress, as mellayes, cotton quilts, linen for shirts, shirts dyed blue,
worn by the peasants, red and yellow slippers,
[p.38] used by the more opulent merchants, and by all the ladies, red
caps, all kinds of cloth dresses, second-hand cashmere shawls, muslin
shawls, &c. &c.
Six large shops of Indian piece-goods: French cloth, cashmere shawls,
&c. belonging to respectable merchants, whose clerks here sell by
retail. Almost all the principal merchants carry on also a retail
business in their own houses, except the great Indian merchants
established here, who deal in nothing but Indian piece-goods. The other
merchants of Djidda engage in every branch of commerce. I once saw the
brother of Djeylany quarrelling with a Yembo pedlar about the price of a
mellaye, worth about fifteen shillings; but this is the case also in
Egypt and Syria, where the most wealthy native merchants sell in retail,
and enter into all the minute details of business, and yet without
keeping any large establishment of clerks or accomptants, which their
mode of conducting business renders little necessary. A Turkish merchant
never keeps more than one accompt-book; into this he copies from a
pocket-book his weekly sales and purchases. They have not that extensive
correspondence which European merchants are obliged to keep up; and they
write much less, though perhaps more to the purpose, than the latter. In
every town with which they traffic, they have one friend, with whom they
annually balance accounts. Turkish merchants, with the exception of
those living in sea-ports, generally pursue but one branch of trade;
maintaining a correspondence with the town only from whence they obtain
their merchandize, and with that to which they transport it. Thus, for
instance, the great Baghdad merchants of Aleppo, men with from thirty to
forty thousand pounds in capital, receive goods from their friends at
Baghdad, and then send them from Aleppo to Constantinople. I have known
many of them who kept no clerk, but transacted the whole of their
business themselves. At Cairo, the Syrian merchants trade in the stuffs
of Damascus and Aleppo, and
[p.39] are altogether unconnected with the Maggrebin, Syria, and Djidda
merchants.
Mercantile transactions are farther simplified by the traders employing
chiefly their own capital, commission business being much less extensive
than it is in Europe. When a merchant consigns a considerable quantity
of goods to a place, he sends a partner with them, or perhaps a
relative, if he have no partner resident in the place. Ranking concerns
and bills of exchange are wholly unknown among the natives, which saves
them much trouble. In those towns where European factories are
established, bills may be found, but they are hardly current with the
natives, among whom assignments only are customary.
The practice followed equally by Mahomedan, Christian, and Jewish
merchants, in the East, of never drawing an exact balance of the actual
state of their capital, is another cause that renders the details of
book-keeping less necessary here than in Europe. For the same reason
that a Bedouin never counts the tents of his tribe, nor the exact number
of his sheep, nor a military chief the exact number of his men, nor a
governor the number of inhabitants of his town, a merchant never
attempts to ascertain the exact amount of his property; an approximation
only is all that be desires. This arises from a belief that counting is
an ostentatious display of wealth, which heaven will punish by a speedy
diminution.
The Eastern merchant seldom enters into hazardous speculations, but
limits his transactions to the extent of his capital. Credit to a great
amount is obtained with difficulty, as affairs of individuals are in
general much more publicly known than in Europe; failures are,
therefore, of rare occurrence; and when a man becomes embarrassed either
from an unsuccessful speculation or inevitable losses, his creditors
forbear to press their demands, and are generally paid after a few
years patience;
[p.40] thereby saving the merchants credit, and preventing the
consequences of bankruptcy.
On the other hand, however, the Eastern merchants are liable to the
imputation of uncertainty in their payments, which they often delay
beyond the stipulated periods. Even the most respectable among them do
not hesitate to put off the payment of a debt for months; and it may be
stated as a general rule in Egypt and Syria, that assignments are never
fully paid till after a lapse of nearly double the time named. But this,
I was often assured by the best informed people here, has only become
the practice within the last twenty or thirty years, and is a
consequence of the universal decay of commerce and diminution of capital
in the Levant. At Djidda, as I have already observed, almost all
bargains are made for ready money.
Three sellers of copper vessels. A variety of well-tinned copper vessels
may be found in every Arabian kitchen. Even the Bedouins have one
capacious boiler, at least, in every tent. The whole of these come from
Egypt. The most conspicuous article of this description is the abrík, or
water-pot, with which the Muselman performs his ablutions. No Turkish
pilgrim arrives in the Hedjaz without one of these pots, or at least he
purchases one at Djidda. There are found, also, in the market a few
copper vessels from China, brought hither by the Malays; but they are
not tinned, and though the copper seems to be of a much finer quality
than that of Anatolia, which is brought from Cairo, the Arabs dislike to
use it.
Four barbers shops. The barbers are at once the surgeons and physicians
of this country. They know how to let blood, and to compound different
sorts of aperient medicines. The few Arabians whose beards are longer
and thicker than those of their country-men usually are, take great
pains in keeping them neatly cut, so that not a hair may project beyond
another. The mustachios are
[p.41] always cut closely, and never allowed to hang over the lips; in
this they differ from the northern Turks, who seldom touch their thick
bushy mustachios with scissors. The barbers shops are frequented by
loungers of the lower classes, who resort thither to hear the news, and
amuse themselves with conversation. In one of these shops I found
established a seal-engraver of Persian origin; he had a good deal of
business, for a pilgrim, after he has performed his visits to the holy
places, usually adds to the name on his seal the words El Hadjy, or The
Pilgrim.
Four tailors. Many others live in various parts of the town; they are
mostly foreigners. Tousoun Pashas court-tailor was a Christian of
Bosnia, and exercised authority over all the other tailors in the town;
who complained bitterly of being subjected, not only to the commands and
insults, but often to the stick of this Christian.
Five makers of nâl, or sandals. There is not one shoe-maker in the
Hedjaz. Those who wear shoes or slippers buy them of the merchants by
whom they are imported from Egypt.
The shape of the sandals used throughout Arabia differs in every
province; and to those delineated by Niebuhr, a dozen other forms might
be added. Some are peculiar to certain classes: a merchant, for
instance, would not wear the sandals of a mariner. This is the case in
Turkey with regard to shoes, of which each province and class has its
particular shape. Egypt and Abyssinia furnish the thick leather used in
making sandals.
Three shops where water-skins brought from Sowakin and Egypt are sold
and repaired. The greater part of the Hedjaz is furnished with water-
skins from Sowakin; they are in great request, being very light, and
sewed with much neatness. A Sowakin water-skin will last, in daily use,
about three or four months.
Two turners, who bore pipe-tubes, and make beads, &c.
Three sellers of sweet-oils or essences, civet, aloe-wood, balsam of
Mekka, and rose-water from Fayoum in Egypt. The civet
[p.42] and Mekka balsam can seldom be bought pure, except at first hand.
The Habesh or Abyssinian merchants bring the civet in large cow-horns;
they sold it at four piastres per drachm in the year 1814. Musk also is
sold in these shops, the best at two dollars per metkal. It is brought
hither by the Indian and Persian Hadjys.
One watchmaker, a Turk. All the Mekka and Djidda merchants wear watches,
many of which are of good English manufacture; they are brought either
from India, or by the Hadjys from Constantinople. As it often happens
that the Turkish pilgrims want money in the Hedjaz, they are sometimes
compelled to dispose of their most valuable articles; the watch is
always the first, then the pistols and sabre, and lastly the fine pipe,
and best copy of the Korán: all these articles are consequently very
common in the auction-markets of Djidda and Mekka.
One seller of Turkish and Persian tobacco-pipes. The latter come
principally from Baghdad. The wealthy often display in their sitting-
rooms a whole range of the finest nargils: these cost as much as one
hundred dollars a piece.
Seven money-dealers, or seráfs. They sit upon benches in the open
street, with a large box before them containing the money. Formerly,
these seráfs were all Jews, as is still the case, with few exceptions,
at Cairo, Damascus, and Aleppo; but since the Sherif-Serour drove the
Jews out of the Hedjaz, the Djiddawys themselves have taken up the
profession, to which their natural disposition and habits incline them.
There is usually at each stand a partnership of them, comprising half a
dozen individuals. A large amount of cash is required to carry on the
business; but it is very profitable. The value of money changes here
more rapidly than in any part of the East with which I am acquainted.
The price of dollars and sequins fluctuates almost daily, and the seráfs
are always sure to be gainers. During the stay of the Indian fleet, the
value of a dollar becomes very high. While I was at Djidda, it rose
[p.43] to eleven and twelve piastres. After the departure of the fleet,
when there is no immediate demand for dollars, the price falls; in
January, 1815, it was at nine piastres. The gold coins vary in
proportion.
Formerly the old current coins of the Hedjaz were Venetian and Hungarian
sequins, Spanish dollars, and money coined at Constantinople. Egyptian
coins were wholly excluded; [According to the historians of Mekka, it
appears that the sherifs there assumed the privilege of coining their
own money, in the name of the Sultan of Constantinople, as late as the
seventeenth century; but this is now abandoned.] but since the arrival
of the troops of Mohammed Ali Pasha, all the Cairo coins have been
forcibly put into circulation, and the Cairo silver money is now next in
estimation to the Spanish dollar. The Pasha of Egypt, who enjoys the
right of coining money in the name of the Sultan, has lately much abused
this privilege. In 1815, he farmed out the mint for a yearly sum of
seven millions of piastres, which is, at the present rate of exchange,
about two hundred thousand pounds sterling, obliging the people to take
the dollar at eight of his piastres, although it is well known to be now
worth twenty-two or twenty-three. In the Hedjaz he has not the same
means of enforcing his despotic measures to their full extent; and thus
it happens that in the interior of the country, where the Turkish troops
are placed, the value of the dollar is eighteen or nineteen piastres.
The Bedouins, however, refuse to take the Egyptian piastres, even at a
depreciation, and will receive nothing but dollars; a determination to
which the Pasha himself has been frequently obliged to yield.
The párá, or smallest Turkish coin, (here called diwany,) is current all
over the Hedjaz, and in great request, from its being of more intrinsic
value than the piastre, though coined like them at Cairo. Forty párás
make a piastre; but in the time of the Hadj, when small change is
necessary for the immense daily traffic of the pilgrims, the seráfs gave
twenty-five párás only in
[p.44] change for the piastre. A few Indian rupees are seen in the
Djidda market, but they have no currency. I never met with any money
coined by the Imám of Yemen.
In the same great street of shops are ten large okales, always full of
strangers and goods. Most of them were formerly the property of the
sherif; they now belong to the Pasha, who levies an annual rent on the
merchants. In Syria these buildings are called khans; in the Hedjaz
hosh, which, in the dialect of Egypt, means a court-yard.
In a street adjoining the great market-place live a few artisans,
blacksmiths, silversmiths, carpenters, some butchers, &c. most of them
natives of Egypt.
The reader will perceive, by the foregoing pages, that Djidda depends
for its commodities entirely on importations either from Egypt or the
East Indies; and this is the case even to the most trifling article. The
want of hands, and the high price of manual labour, but still more the
indolence and want of industry inherent in the natives of the Hedjaz,
have hitherto prevented them from establishing any kind of manufactory,
except of the most indispensable articles. In this respect they offer a
contrast to the Syrian and Egyptian Arabs, who in general are
industrious, and who, in spite of the obstacles often thrown in their
way by the government, have nevertheless established several
manufactures, which render them, in some parts of the country, entirely
independent of foreign supplies. The inhabitants of the Hedjaz appear to
have only two occupations; commerce, and the pasture of cattle. The
first engrosses the mind of almost every town-inhabitant, not excepting
even the olemas, or learned men. Every one endeavours to employ whatever
capital he possesses in some advantageous traffic, that he may live
without much bodily exertion; for these people seem to be as averse to
the latter as they are eager to endure all the anxieties and risks
inseparable from the former. It is even difficult to find persons who
will perform the common
[p.45] labour of porters, &c.: those who follow similar occupations are
for the most part foreigners from Egypt or Syria, and negro pilgrims,
who thus earn a very comfortable livelihood, and generally make but a
temporary stay at Djidda. The only race of Arabians whom I have found
more industrious than the others, are the people of Hadramaut, or, as
they are called, El Hadáreme. Many of them act as servants in the
merchants houses, as door-keepers, messengers, and porters, in which
latter character they are preferred to all others for their honesty and
industry. Almost every considerable town in the East has its particular
race of porters: at Aleppo, the Armenians of the mountains of Asia Minor
are in request for this office; at Damascus, the people of Mount
Libanus; at Cairo, the Berábera Nubians; at Mekka and Djidda, the
Hadáreme, who, like those of Syria, are mountaineers. It is well known
that similar qualifications recommend my countrymen, the Alpine
mountaineers, to the same offices at Paris. There is another striking
similarity among the natives of all these countries; they generally
return home with their gains, and pass the remainder of their days with
their families. Notwithstanding this source, there is a great and almost
absolute want of free servants in the Hedjaz. No man who has been born
in one of the holy cities, will act as a menial servant, unless he be
driven to it by the fear of dying from want of food; and no sooner is he
in good condition, than he ceases to labour, and either turns pedlar or
beggar. The number of beggars at Mekka and Djidda is very great, and it
is a common remark among the merchants of the latter place, that a
Djiddawy will never work while he can possibly maintain himself by
begging. Mendicity is much encouraged by the pilgrims, who are fond of
displaying their charity on first touching holy ground at this place.
Respecting the people of Djidda and their character, I shall have
occasion to make further observations in describing the inhabitants of
Mekka, whom generally they resemble. In fact, all the
[p.46] respectable families have houses at both places, and frequently
pass from one to the other.
Djidda is governed by a pasha of three tails, who takes precedence of
most others, from the connexion of this place with the holy cities; but
the government of it is an honour little esteemed by the Turkish
grandees, who have always regarded Djidda as a place rather of exile
than of preferment, and it has often been conferred on disgraced
statesmen. The Pasha styles himself not only Wály or governor of Djidda,
but of Sowakin and Habesh; and in support of this title, keeps custom-
house officers at Sowakin and Massoua, which, prior to the government of
Mohammed Aly, were entirely dependent on the sherif.
The pashalik of Djidda was reduced to perfect insignificance by the
power of the sherif of Mekka; and the title had become merely an
honorary distinction, enjoyed by the individual on whom it had been
bestowed, while he resided in some provincial town of Turkey or at
Constantinople, without ever attempting to take possession of his
government. There was, however, an exception in 1803, when, after the
total evacuation of Egypt by the French, Sherif Pasha went to Djidda
with a body of four or five hundred soldiers; but like all his
predecessors, he became the mere instrument of Sherif Ghaleb, and in
1804 his career was terminated by sudden death-the fate of many former
Pashas both of Djidda and of Mekka.
According to the orders of the Sultan, whose nominal supremacy over the
Hedjaz was recognised until the last Wahaby conquest, the revenue
arising from the customs collected at Djidda should have been divided
equally between the Pasha and the sherif of Mekka, while the former was
to have exclusively the command of the town. When the Turks began to
subdue Asia, the sherif received only one third of this revenue, and it
was not until the year of the Hedjira 1042 that he obtained the
half. [Vide Asámi, History of the Hedjaz.] Subsequently,
[p.47] however, the sherif not only usurped the government of Djidda,
but also applied the customs wholly to his own use, the Pasha being
rendered altogether dependent upon his bounty.
Soon after the death of Sherif Pasha, the Sherif Ghaleb was obliged to
surrender Mekka to the Wahabys, having been besieged, the preceding
year, in Djidda, by Saoud. He then openly declared himself a proselyte
to the Wahaby faith, and a subject of the Wahaby chief, though he still
retained full possession of Djidda and the produce of its customs, which
formed the principal part of his income. The Wahabys did not enter the
town, which ostensibly declared in favour of their doctrines. The
Turkish soldiers were now obliged to retire towards Egypt, or elsewhere;
and from that period till 1811 all Turkish authority was entirely
excluded from the Hedjaz.
In 1811, Mohammed Aly Pasha commenced his operations against the
Wahabys, by sending a body of troops under the command of his son
Tousoun Bey, who was defeated in the passes between Yembo and Medina. A
second, in 1812, was more successful: while Tousoun, in September of
that year, took Medina, Mustafa Bey, the Pashas brother-in-law,
proceeded directly with the cavalry under his command to Djidda, Mekka,
and Tayf; all which surrendered, almost without bloodshed. The Sherif
Ghaleb, who, from the moment he began to apprehend the probable success
of Alys expedition, had entered into a secret correspondence with
Egypt, now openly declared himself a friend to the Turks, who entered
Djidda as friends. The title of Pasha of Djidda was soon after conferred
by the Porte upon Tousoun, as a reward for his services. The details of
this war will be given in another place; I shall, therefore, only
mention here, that after the Osmanlys, or Turks, entered Djidda, a
quarrel arose between the Pasha and the sherif respecting the customs,
which were to be divided between them, but which the Pasha, being now
superior in power, kept wholly to himself. He sent the sherif as
prisoner to Turkey, and
[p.48] since that event, the town has continued wholly at his disposal,
the new sherif, Yahya, being a servant in the pay of Tousoun.
Djidda, in the time of Sherif Ghaleb, was governed either by himself,
when he resided there, or, during his absence, by an officer called
Vizir, under whose orders the police of the town was placed; while the
collection of the customs (gumruk) was entrusted to another officer,
called the gumrukdjy; and the police of the harbour to the Emir el
Bahhr, or the Chief of the Sea, a title equivalent to harbour-
master. In later times the vizir was a black slave of Ghaleb, and much
detested for his pride and despotic conduct. Ghaleb seldom resided in
Djidda, his continual intrigues with the Bedouins, and his schemes
against the Wahaby tribes, requiring his presence in the more central
position of Mekka.
The form of government which existed under Ghaleb has not been changed
by the Osmanlys. It happened that Tousoun Pasha could seldom reside in
his capital, being placed under the command of his father, who received
from the Porte the entire direction of the Hedjaz war, and the disposal
of all the resources of that country. Tousoun was more usefully employed
in moving about with the troops under his command, till he returned to
Cairo in the autumn of 1815. Since the year 1812, a military commander
has always resided in the town, with a garrison of two or three hundred
men, which the Pasha takes care to change every three or four months.
The collection of the customs, the entire regulation of civil affairs,
the correspondence with Cairo and Mekka, the conveyance of troops,
stores, and government merchandize between Egypt and Djidda, and the
Pashas treasury, are in the hands of this commander, whose name is Seyd
Ali Odjakly. His father was from Asia Minor, and belonged to the corps
of Janissaries (Odjak), whence his son takes the epithet of Odjakly. He
is disliked by the merchants of Djidda, because they remember his
selling nuts in the streets about twenty years ago. In the time of
Sherif Ghaleb,
[p.49] he was employed by him in his private commercial affairs; and as
he possesses great talents and activity, joined to a good knowledge of
the Turkish language, Mohammed Ali could with difficulty have pitched
upon a person more competent to fill the post which he now holds.
The public revenue of Djidda arises almost exclusively from the customs,
called here ashour, or tithes. This ought legally to be, as I was
informed, ten per cent. upon all imported goods; but, in consequence of
abuses which have been long practised, some articles of merchandize are
charged much higher, while others pay less. During the latter period of
the sherifs power, coffee was charged at five dollars the quintal,
which may be computed as fifteen to twenty per cent. Spices pay somewhat
less than ten per cent.; India piece-goods something more. Great
irregularity, therefore, exists in levying the customs; and it is in the
power of the officer of customs to favour his friends without incurring
any responsibility.
After the sherif had embraced the Wahabi doctrine, his income was
greatly diminished; because Saoud, the chief of the Wahabis, insisted
that the goods of all his followers should pass duty-free, and thus the
greater part of the coffee trade became exempt. I heard from a person
who had means of knowing the truth, and who had no motive for concealing
it from me, that the amount of customs collected at Djidda in 1814 was
four hundred thousand dollars, equal to eight thousand purses, or four
millions of piastres, which would give an annual importation of about
four millions of dollars, a sum certainly below rather than above the
truth. Customs are levied after the same rate at the two gates of the
town, called Bab Mekka and Bab el Medina, upon all provisions coming
from the interior of the country, principally cattle, butter, and dates,
which, in time of peace, when the communication with the interior is
uninterrupted, becomes a matter of importance. Except these, the people
of the town pay no imposts whatever.
[p.50] During my residence, the Turks had made Djidda the principal
depot for their army. A large magazine of corn belonging to the Pasha,
received almost daily supplies from Egypt, and caravans were every day
despatched to Mekka and Tayf; the commerce of the town also was much
increased by the wants of the army and its followers. The police of the
place was well regulated; and the Pasha had given the strictest
injunctions to his troops that they should not commit excesses, as he
well knew that the high-minded Arabians do not so quietly submit to ill-
treatment as the enslaved Egyptians: whenever quarrels happened between
Arabs and Turks, the former generally had the advantage. No avanies (or
wanton act of oppression and injustice) had, under any pretence, been
exercised upon individuals, except in the occupation of a few of the
best houses by the Pasha as lodgings for his wives. The merchants
suffered, however, as in the sherifs time, from the arbitrary rates of
customs, and from the necessity of frequently purchasing all kinds of
merchandize from the Pasha, who, while he was in the Hedjaz, seemed to
be as eager in his mercantile as he was in his military pursuits. But
after an impartial view of the merits and demerits of both governments,
it may be said that the people of Djidda have certainly gained by the
Osmanlys; yet, strange to mention, not an Arab could be found, whether
rich or poor, sincerely attached to his new masters; and the termination
of the sherifs government was universally regretted. This must not be
attributed wholly to the usual levity of a mob, which is found among the
subjects of the Porte, even in a greater degree than among those of any
European nation. The Ottoman governors or Pashas are continually
changing, and every new one becoming a supreme ruler, gives ample cause
for complaints and private hatred and disgust; while their rapid
succession inspires the people with the hope of being soon rid of their
present despot, an event to which they look forward with pleasure, as
the first months of a new governor are generally marked by clemency and
justice.
[p.51] The Arabians are a very proud, high-spirited nation; and this may
be said even of those who inhabit the towns, however corrupted the true
Bedouin character may be among this degenerate race. They despise every
nation that does not speak the Arabic language, or that differs in
manners; they have, besides, been accustomed, for many years, to look
upon Turks as a very inferior people, who, whenever they entered the
Hedjaz, were overawed by the power of the sherif. The rigid ceremonial
of a Turkish court was not adapted to the character and established
notions of Mohammed Alys new subjects. The sherif, in the height of his
power, resembled a great Bedouin Sheikh, who submits to be boldly and
often harshly addressed. A Turkish Pasha is approached with the most
abject forms of servitude. Whenever the Sherif Ghaleb wanted a loan of
money, observed one of the first merchants of the Hedjaz to me, he
sent for three or four of us; we sat in close discourse with him for a
couple of hours, often quarrelling loudly, and we always reduced the sum
to something much less than was at first demanded. When we went to him
on ordinary business, we spoke to him as I now speak to you; but the
Pasha keeps us standing before him in an humble attitude, like so many
Habesh (Abyssinian) slaves, and looks down upon us as if we were beings
of an inferior creation. I would rather, he concluded, pay a fine to
the sherif than receive a favour from the Pasha.
The little knowledge which the Turks possess of the Arabic language,
their bad pronunciation of it even in reciting prayers from the Koran,
the ignorance of Arabia and its peculiarities which they betray in every
act, are so many additional causes to render them hateful or despicable
in the eyes of the Arabs. The Turks return an equal share of contempt
and dislike. Whoever does not speak the language of the Turkish soldier,
or does not dress like one, is considered as a fellah, or boor, a term
which they have been in the habit of applying to the Egyptian peasants,
as beings in the lowest
[p.52] state of servitude and oppression. Their hatred of the Arabian
race is greater, because they cannot indulge their tyrannical
disposition with impunity, as they are accustomed to do in Egypt, being
convinced by experience that an Arabian, when struck, will strike again.
The Arabians particularly accuse the Turks of treachery, in seizing the
sherif and sending him to Turkey after he had declared for the Pasha,
and permitted Djidda and Mekka to be occupied by the Turkish troops,
who, they assert, would never, without the assistance of the sherif,
have been able to make any progress in Arabia, much less to acquire a
firm footing therein.
The term khayn, treacherous, is universally applied to every Turk in
Arabia, with that proud self-confidence of superiority, in this respect,
for which the Arabs are deservedly renowned. The lower classes of the
Arabs have discovered a fanciful confirmation of their charge against
the Turks in one of the Grand Signors titles, Khán, an ancient Tatar
word, which in Arabic signifies he betrayed, being the preterite of
the verb ykhoun, to betray. They pretend that an ancestor of the
Sultan having betrayed a fugitive, received the opprobrious appellation
of el Sultan Khán, (the Sultan has been treacherous;) and that the
title is merely retained by his successors from their ignorance of the
Arabic language.
Whenever the power of the Turks in the Hedjaz declines, which it will
when the resources of Egypt are no longer directed to that point by so
able and so undisturbed a possessor of Egypt as Mohammed Ali, the Arabs
will avenge themselves for the submission, light as it is, which they
now reluctantly yield to their conquerors; and the reign of the Osmanlis
in the Hedjaz will probably terminate in many a scene of bloodshed.
[p.53] ROUTE FROM DJIDDA TO TAYF. [I was unable to take any bearings
during this excursion, as the only compass which I possessed, and which
had served me throughout my Nubian journey, had become useless, and no
opportunity offered of replacing it till December in this year, when I
obtained one from a Bombay ship which arrived at Djidda.]
ON the 24th of August, 1814, (11th of Ramadhán, A.H. 1230.) I set out
from Djidda, late in the evening, with my guide and twenty camel-drivers
of the tribe of Harb, who were carrying money to Mekka for the Pashas
treasury. After having left the skirts of the town, where the road
passes by mounds of sand, among which is the cemetery of the
inhabitants, we travelled across a very barren, sandy plain, ascending
slightly towards the east; there are no trees in it, and it is strongly
impregnated with salt to about two miles from the town. After three
hours march, we entered a hilly country, where a coffee-hut stands near
a well named Ragháme. We continued in a broad and winding valley amongst
these hills, some sandy and some rocky, and, at the end of five hours
and a half, stopped for a short time at the coffee-hut and well called
El Beyádhye. Of these wells the water is not good. From thence, in one
hour and a half, (seven hours in all,) we reached a similar station
called El Feráyne, where we overtook a caravan of pilgrims, who were
accompanying goods and provisions destilled for the army: they had
quitted Djidda before us in the evening. The coffee-huts are miserable
structures, with half-ruined
[p.54] walls, and coverings of brushwood; they afford nothing more than
water and coffee. Formerly, it is said, there were twelve coffee-houses
on this road, which afforded refreshments of every kind to the
passengers between Djidda and the holy city; but as the journey is now
made chiefly during the night, and as the Turkish soldiers will pay for
nothing unless by compulsion, most of these houses have been abandoned.
The few that still remain are kept by some of the Arabs of the Lahyan
tribe, (a branch of the Hodheyl Arabs,) and Metarefe, whose families are
Bedouins, and live among the hills with their flocks. From Ferayne the
valley opens, and the hills, diverging on both sides, increase
considerably in height. At the end of eight hours, about sun-rise we
reached Bahhra, a cluster of about twenty huts, situated upon a plain
nearly four hours in length and two in breadth, extending eastward. At
Bahhra there is plenty of water in wells, some sweet and some brackish.
In a row of eight or ten shops are sold rice, onions, butter, dates, and
coffee-beans, at thirty per cent. in advance of the Djidda market-price.
This is what the Arabs call a souk, or market, and similar places occur
at every station in this chain of mountains as far as Yemen. Some
Turkish cavalry was stationed at Bahhra to guard the road. After
travelling for two hours farther over the plain, we halted, at ten hours
from Djidda, at Hadda, a souk, similar to the above. Between Bahhra and
Hadda, upon an insulated hillock in the plain, are the ruins of an
ancient fortification.
August 25th.--The caravan from Djidda to Mekka rests during the day at
Bahhra or at Hadda, thus following the common practice of the Hedjaz
Arabs, who travel only by night. This is done in winter as well as in
summer, not so much for the purpose of avoiding the heat as to afford
the camels time for feeding, these animals never eating by night. Such
nocturnal marches are most unfavourable to the researches of a
traveller, who thus crosses the country at a time when no objects can be
observed;
[p.55] and during the day, fatigue and the desire of sleep render every
exertion irksome.
We alighted at Hadda, under the shed of a spacious coffee-hut, where I
found a motley crew of Turks and Arabs, in their way to or from Mekka,
each extended upon his small carpet. Some merchants from Tayf had just
brought in a load of grapes; and, although I felt myself still weak from
the fever, I could not withstand this temptation, and seized a few of
them; for the baskets were no sooner opened than the whole company fell
upon them, and soon devoured the entire load; the owner, however, was
afterwards paid. It is at Hadda that the inhabitants of Djidda, when
making a pilgrimage to Mekka, put on the ihram, or pilgrims cloak. By
the Muselman law, every one is obliged to assume it, whatever may be his
rank, who enters the sacred territory of Mekka, whether on pilgrimage or
for other purposes; and he is enjoined not to lay it aside till after he
has visited the temple. Many persons, however, transgress this law; but
an o[r]thodox Mekkan never goes to Djidda without carrying his ihram with
him, and on his return home, he puts it on at this place. In the
afternoon some of the Turkish soldiers who were here put on this
garment, with the prescribed ceremonies, which consist in an ablution,
or, if the pilgrim choose, an entire purification, an audible avowal of
the act of investment, a prayer of two rikats, and the recital of pious
exclamations called telbye. This being a time of war, the soldiers
continued to wear their arms over the cloak.
In the afternoon, the coffee-house keeper dressed the provisions I had
brought, as well as those belonging to many others of the company. There
was great disorder in the place, and nobody could attempt to sleep. Soon
after our arrival, a troop of soldiers passed, and pitched their tents a
little farther on the plain; they then entered the coffee-huts, and took
away all the sweet water, which had been procured from a well about
half-an-hour distant, and kept at Hadda in large jars. The huts of the
few miserable
[p.56] inhabitants, thus exposed to all the casualties attending the
continual passage of troops, are formed with brushwood, in the shape of
a flattened cone, and they receive light only through the entrance; here
the whole family lives huddled together in one apartment. The numerous
coffee-huts are spacious sheds, supported by poles, with the coffee-
waiters hearth placed in one corner. They are infested by great numbers
of rats, bolder than any I ever saw.
We left Hadda about five oclock in the evening. The road continuing
over the plain, the soil is sandy, in some parts mixed with clay, and
might, I think, be easily cultivated by digging wells. At one hour from
Hadda, we saw on our left, in the plain, some date-trees: here, as I
understood, flows a small rivulet, which in former times irrigated some
fields. The trees are at present neglected. We now left the plain, and
diverging a little south-ward from our easterly course, again entered a
hilly country, and reached, at two hours from Hadda, another coffee-hut,
called Shemeysa. Behind it is the Djebel Shemeysa, or mountain of
Shemeysa, from which, according to the historians of Mekka, was
extracted the marble of many columns in the mosque of that holy city. In
the mountain, near the hut, is a well. From Shemeysa we rode in a broad
valley overspread with deep sands, and containing some thorny trees. At
four hours from Hadda, we passed Kahwet Salem, or Salems coffee-shop,
and a well; there we met a caravan coming from Mekka. The mountains
nearly close at this place, leaving only a narrow straight valley,
crossed at intervals by several other valleys. We then proceeded as far
as Hadjalye, a coffee-house, seven hours distant from Hadda, with a
large well near it, which supplies the camel-drivers of the Syrian
pilgrim caravan, on the way to and from Mekka.
Not having enjoyed a moments sleep since we quitted Djidda, I lay down
on the sands, and slept till day-break, while my companions pursued
their road to Mekka. My guide only remained with me;
[p.57] but his fears for the safety of his camels would not allow him to
close his eyes. The route from Djidda to Mekka is always frequented by
suspicious characters; and as every body travels by night, stragglers
are easily plundered. Near Hadjalye, are the ruins of an ancient
village, built with stone; and in the Wady are traces of former
cultivation.
August 26th.--At half an hour from Hadjalye, we came to a small date
plantation, surrounded by a wall. From hence the road to Mekka lies to
the right, and enters the town by the quarter called Djerouel. My guide
had orders to conduct me by a by-road to Tayf, which passes in the north
of Mekka; it branches off at Hadda, crosses the road from Mekka to Wady
Fatmé, and joins the great road from Mekka to Tayf, beyond Wady Muna.
Just before we left Hadda, my guide, who knew nothing further respecting
me than that I had business with the Pasha at Tayf, that I performed all
the outward observances of a Moslem pilgrim, and that I had been liberal
to him before our departure, asked me the reason of his having been
ordered to take me by the northern road. I replied, that it was probably
thought shorter than the other. That is a mistake, he replied; the
Mekka road is quite as short, and much safer; and if you have no
objection, we will proceed by it. This was just what I wished, though I
had taken care not to betray any anxiety on the subject; and we
accordingly followed the great road, in company with the other
travellers. Instead, however, of taking me the usual way, which would
have carried me through the whole length of the town, he, having no
curiosity to gratify, conducted me, without my being aware of it, by a
short cut, and thus deprived me of an opportunity of seeing Mekka fully
at this time.
From the date plantation beyond Hadjalye, we reached in half an hour the
plain where the Syrian pilgrim-caravan usually encamps, and which has
taken the name of Sheikh Mahmoud, from the tomb of a saint so called,
built in the midst of it. It is encompassed
[p.58] by low mountains; is from two to three miles in length, and one
in breadth; and is separated from the valley of Mekka by a narrow chain
of hills, over which a road has been cut through the rocks, with much
labour. By this road we ascended, and on the summit of the hill passed
two watch-towers, built on each side of the road by the Sherif Ghaleb.
As we descended on the other side, where the road is paved, the view of
Mekka opened upon us; and at an hour and a half from Hadjalye, we
entered the eastern quarter of the town, near the Sherifs palace
(marked 50 in the plan). The great body of the town lay on our right,
hidden, in part, by the windings of the valley. As I knew that I should
return to Mekka, I did not press my guide to allow me a full view of the
city, since we should, for that purpose, have been obliged to ride back
about two miles in a contrary direction. I repressed my curiosity,
therefore, and followed him, reciting those ejaculations which are
customary on entering the holy city.
I travelled several times afterwards between Mekka and Djidda, in both
directions. The caravans rate of march is here very slow, scarcely
exceeding two miles an hour. I have ridden from Mekka to Djidda upon an
ass in thirteen hours. The distance may, perhaps, be fairly estimated at
sixteen or seventeen hours walk, or about fifty-five miles; the
direction a trifle to the northward of east.
On turning to our left, we passed, a little farther on, the great
barracks of the Sherif; and in the suburbs called El Moabede, we
alighted at the house of an Arab, with whom my guide happened to be
acquainted. It was now the fast of Ramadhán; but travellers are exempted
by law from observing it. The woman of the house, whose husband was
absent, prepared us a breakfast, for which we paid her, and remained in
the house till after mid-day; we then remounted our camels, and turning
by the Sherifs garden-house, situated at the eastern extremity of the
suburbs, we took the high road to Wady Muna. Winding valleys, of greater
or less breadth,
[p.59] covered with sands, and almost wholly destitute of vegetation,
with hills on both sides, equally barren, lead to Muna. At half an hour
from the garden-house of the Sherif, the country opens a little to the
left. There the canal passes which supplies Mekka with sweet water; and
we saw, about two miles distant, at the extremity of the opening, a
conical mountain, called Djebel el Nour, considered holy by the
pilgrims, as will be subsequently mentioned. We passed on our right, in
an hour and a half, a large tank, built of stones. This, in the time of
the Hadj, is filled with water from the canal, which passes close by it.
I believe this to be the place called Sebyl-es-Sett. One of the side-
valleys between Mekka and Muna is called Wady Mohsab. El Fasy, the
historian of Mekka, says that there were formerly sixteen wells between
that city and Muna. At the end of two hours, after having ascended a
little by a paved causeway formed across the valley, which is about
forty yards in breadth, we entered Wady Muna. Near the causeway we saw a
small field, irrigated by means of a brackish well, where a few
miserable Bedouins raised onions and leeks for the market at Mekka. I
shall give hereafter a more detailed description of Wady Muna, where the
Hadj remains three days after its return from Arafat.
We continued our route among the ruined houses of Muna, passed the short
columns, at which the pilgrims throw stones, then the Sherifs palace,
and issued into the open country, which continues thence towards
Mezdelife, distant three hours and three quarters from Mekka. This name
is given to a small mosque, now almost in ruins, close to which is a
tank or reservoir of water. Here a sermon is preached from a high
platform in front of the mosque, to the pilgrims after their return from
Arafat. El Fasy, the historian, says that this mosque was built in A.H.
759. It is often called Moshár el Haram; but, according to the same
author, this name belongs to a small hill at the
[p.60] extremity of the valley of Mezdelife, which bears also the
appellation of El Kazeh. From Mezdelife two roads lead to Arafat; the
one on the left along the plain or valley called Dhob; the other leads
straight across the mountain, and joins the former near the Aalameyn. We
proceeded along the great road in the valley. At four hours and a
quarter the mountains again close, and a narrow pass called El Mazomeyn
or El Medyk leads across them for half an hour, after which the view
opens upon the plain of Arafat. At the end of four hours and three
quarters, we passed, in this plain, a tank called Bir Basan, constructed
of stone, with a small chapel adjoining. Here the country opens widely
to the north and south. Eastward, the mountains of Tayf are seen for the
first time in their full height. [On my return from Tayf to Mekka, when I
was completely my own master, I drew up a much more detailed and
accurate description of the road than this given here; but I
accidentally lost the papers containing it; the present, therefore, is
written from memory, and the few short notes which I hastily made during
the route to Tayf.] At five hours we reached El Aalameyn, two stone
structures standing one on each side of the road, from eighty to one
hundred paces from each other, and between them the pilgrims must pass
in going, and more particularly in returning from Arafat. They are of
coarse masonry, plaistered white, and the annexed outline represents
their form.[Not included]
Fasy says that there were formerly three, that they were built in A.H.
605, and that one had fallen. Of those now remaining one is entire, the
other half ruined. At five hours and a quarter we passed to our right a
large insulated mosque in a state of decay, called Djama Nimre, or Djama
Ibrahim, built as it now stands by the Sultan Kail, Bey of Egypt. The
low mountain of
[p.61] Arafat was now to our left at the extremity of the plain, about
two miles distant. We proceeded, without stopping, over the plain, which
is covered with shrubs of considerable height, and low acacia trees:
from these it is prohibited to take even the smallest branch, this being
holy ground. On attaining the eastern limits of the plain, we reached,
at five hours and three quarters, the canal of Mekka, issuing from the
mountainous ground. Near it is a small tank, and in its vicinity a
cluster of Arab huts similar to those at Hadda, and bearing the name of
Kahwet Arafat, or the coffee-house of Arafat. They are inhabited chiefly
by Beni Koreysh, who cultivate vegetables in a valley extending from
hence towards the south. We rested here some hours; a caravan from Tayf,
composed of mules and asses, arrived at the same time.
From Kahwet Arafat, the road becomes rocky, and the mountains nearly
close, and are intersected by valleys which cross the road in every
direction. Acacia-trees grow here in great abundance. At seven hours and
a half we again entered upon sandy ground, in a valley called Wady
Noman, where, towards the south, are some wells, and a few plantations
cultivated by the Arab tribes of Kebákeb and Ryshye. At eight hours and
a half we passed an encampment of the Bedouin tribe of Hodheyl, where
dogs attacked our camels so fiercely that I had much difficulty, though
mounted, to defend myself from their teeth. At eight hours and three
quarters we passed a cluster of huts and coffee-shops, called shedad,
with wells of very good water. At nine hours and a half, it being a
cloudy and extremely dark night, we lost our way in following the
windings of a side valley, and being unable to regain the right road, we
lay down on the sand and slept till day-break.
August 27th.--We found ourselves close to the road, and proceeding, we
began to ascend, in half an hour, the great chain of mountains. From
Djjdda to this place, our route, though generally between hills and
mountains, had been constantly over flat
[p.62] ground, in valleys, with an ascent almost imperceptible to the
traveller, and the existence of which became visible only in viewing the
country from the summit of the mountains now before us. The lower hills
are seldom higher than four or five hundred feet. The lowest range above
Djidda is calcareous; but its rocks soon change into gneiss, and a
species of granite, with schorl in the place of feldspath, accompanied
by predominant masses of quartz, and some mica. This rock continues
along the road, with few variations, as far as the vicinity of Djebel
Nour, to the eastward of Mekka, where granite begins. I learned at
Mekka, that, south of Hadda, some hours distant, a mountain yields fine
marble, which served for the pavement of the great mosque. The mountains
forming the valley of Muna are composed of this red and grey granite,
and continue so from thence to this higher chain, mixed in a few places
with strata of grunstein. The lower chain of the high ridge which we
were now ascending, again, consists of grey granite; towards the middle
I found it of all colours, mixed with strata of grunstein, trappe, and
porphyry schistus, the latter much decayed: at the summit of the ridge,
red granite occurred again; its surface had been completely blackened by
the suns rays.
We ascended by a road, still bad, although Mohammed Ali Pasha had
recently caused it to be repaired. The country around was very wild,
being covered with large blocks of loose stones, carried down by the
winter torrents, and interspersed with a few acacia and nebek trees. At
one hour we came to a building of loose stones, called Kaber Er-rafyk,
i.e. the Companions tomb. The following tradition concerning it was
related by my guide. In the last century, a Bedouin returning from the
Hadj was joined, beyond the gates of Mekka, by a traveller going the
same road with himself; they reached this spot in company, when one of
them felt himself so ill, that he was unable to proceed farther, and on
the following day the small-pox broke out on his body. In this situation
his companion
[p.63] would not abandon him. He built two huts with boughs of acacia-
trees, one for his friend, the other for himself; and continued to nurse
him, and solicit alms for his benefit from passing travellers, until he
recovered. But in turn, he himself became ill of the same disease, and
was nursed by his convalescent companion with equal kindness, though not
with equal success; for he died, and was interred by his friend on this
spot, where his tomb serves as a monument of Bedouin generosity, and
inculcates benevolence even towards the casual companions of the road.
At one hour and a half, still ascending, we reached some huts built
among the rocks, near a copious spring; they are named Kahwet Kora, from
the mountains which collectively bear the name of Djebel Kora. I found
here a Turkish soldier, charged with the transport of provisions for the
Pashas army over the mountain. This being the shortest road from Mekka
to Tayf, caravans are continually passing. The camel-loads are deposited
at this place, and then forwarded to the summit of the mountain on mules
and asses, of which about two hundred are kept here. On the mountain
camels are prepared for carrying the loads to Tayf. The more northern
road to Tayf, of which I shall speak hereafter, is passable for camels
all the way; but it is by one day longer than this.
The huts of Kora are constructed between the rocks, on the slope of the
mountain, where there is scarcely any level surface. The inhabitants are
Hodheyl Bedouins. In two or three huts nothing could be procured but
coffee and water. The Turkish soldier had lately incurred the Pashas
displeasure, having stolen and sold the camel of a Hodheyl woman, who
had gone to lay her complaint before his master, the Pasha, at Tayf. The
soldier treated me with much civility, when he learned that I was going
to visit the Pasha, and begged me to intercede in his behalf; this,
however, I declined to do, telling him that I was myself a solicitor for
my own concerns. We remained till mid-day at this
[p.64] pleasant spot, from whence there is a fine prospect over the
lower country. A large nebek-tree, near the spring which drizzles down
the rocks, afforded me shade, and a delicious cool breeze allayed the
sultry heat which we had endured ever since our departure from Djidda.
Leaving Kora, we found the road very steep, and, although it had lately
been repaired, so bad, that a mounted traveller could hardly hope to
reach the summit without alighting. Steps had been cut in several
places, and the ascent rendered less steep, by conducting it, in many
windings, to the top: half a dozen spacious resting-places had also been
formed on the side of the mountain, where the caravans take breath,
there being no where so much as eight square feet of level ground. The
same spring, which comes from near the top, is crossed several times. I
met many of the Hodheyl Bedouins, with their families and flocks of
sheep, near the road. One of them gave me some milk, but would not take
any money in return; the sale of milk being considered by these Bedouins
as a scandal, though they might derive great profits from it at Mekka,
where one pound of milk is worth two piastres. I conversed freely with
the men, and with the wife of one of them. They seemed a race of hardy
mountaineers, and, although evidently poor, have a more robust and
fleshy appearance than the northern Bedouins, which I ascribe chiefly to
the healthiness of the climate, and the excellence of the water. The
Beni Hodheyl, famous in the ancient history of Arabia, were nominally
subject to the Sherif of Mekka, in whose territory they live; but they
were in fact quite independent, and often at war with him.
We were full two hours in ascending from the coffee-huts to the summit
of the mountain, from whence we enjoyed a beautiful prospect over the
low country. We discerned Wady Muna, but not Mekka; and as far as the
eye could reach, winding chains of hills appeared upon a flat surface,
towards the north and south, with narrow stripes of white sand between
them, without the slightest verdure. Close to our right rose a peak of
the mountain
[p.65] Kora, called Nakeb el Ahmar, from four to five hundred feet
higher than the place where we stood, and appearing to overtop all the
neighbouring chain. Towards the north, the mountain, about thirty miles
distant, seemed to decrease considerably in height; but southward it
continues of the same height. After half an hours ride from the summit,
we came to a small village called Ras el Kora. Finding myself much
fatigued, I insisted upon sleeping here, with which my guide reluctantly
complied, as he had received orders to travel expeditiously.
August 28th.--The village and neighbourhood of Ras el Kora is the most
beautiful spot in the Hedjaz, and more picturesque and delightful than
any place I had seen since my departure from Lebanon, in Syria. The top
of Djebel Kora is flat, but large masses of granite lie scattered over
it, the surface of which, like that of the granite rocks near the second
cataract of the Nile, is blackened by the sun. Several small rivulets
descend from this peak, and irrigate the plain, which is covered with
verdant fields and large shady trees on the side of the granite rocks.
To those who have only known the dreary and scorching sands of the lower
country of the Hedjaz, this scene is as surprising as the keen air which
blows here is refreshing. Many of the fruit-trees of Europe are found
here,--figs, apricots, peaches; apples, the Egyptian sycamore, almonds,
pomegranates; but particularly vines, the produce of which is of the
best quality. There are no palm-trees here, and only a few nebek-trees.
The fields produce wheat, barley, and onions; but the soil being stony,
these do not succeed so well as the fruits. Every beled, as they here
call the fields, is enclosed by a low wall, and is the property of a
Hodheyl Bedouin. When Othman el Medhayfe took Tayf from the Sherif, this
place was ruined, the fields were destroyed, and many of the walls had
not yet been rebuilt.
After having passed through this delightful district, for about half an
hour, just as the sun was rising, when every leaf and blade
[p.66] of grass was covered with a balmy dew, and every tree and shrub
diffused a fragrance as delicious to the smell as was the landscape to
the eye, I halted near the largest of the rivulets, which, although not
more than two paces across, nourishes upon its banks a green Alpine
turf, such as the mighty Nile, with all its luxuriance, can never
produce in Egypt. Some of the Arabs brought us almonds and raisins, for
which we gave them biscuits; but although the grapes were ripe, we could
not obtain any, as they are generally purchased while on the vines by
the merchants of Tayf, who export them to Mekka, and keep them closely
watched by their own people till they are gathered. Here a Turkish
soldier, complimented with the title of Aga, was stationed under a tent,
to forward the provisions coming from the lower station to Tayf. I
observed with some astonishment, that not a single pleasure-house was
built on this high platform. Formerly, the Mekka merchants had their
country-seats at Tayf, which stand in a situation as desert and
melancholy, as this is cheerful and luxuriant; but none of them ever
thought of building a cottage here; a new proof of the opinion which I
have long entertained, that orientals, especially the Arabs, are much
less sensible of the beauties of nature than Europeans. The water of Ras
el Kora is celebrated throughout the Hedjaz for its excellence. While
Mohammed Ali remained at Mekka and at Djidda, he received a regular
supply of Nile water for drinking, sent from Egypt, by every fleet, in
large tin vessels; but on passing this place, he found its water
deserving of being substituted for the other: a camel comes here daily
from Tayf for a load of it.
The houses of the Hodheyl, to whom these plantations belong, are
scattered over the fields in clusters of four or five together. They are
small, built of stones and mud, but with more care than might be
expected from the rude hands of the occupants. Every dwelling comprises
three or four rooms, each of which being separated from the others by a
narrow open space, forms, as it were,
[p.67] a small detached cottage. These apartments receive no light but
from the entrance; they are very neat and clean, and contain Bedouin
furniture, some good carpets, woollen and leathern sacks, a few wooden
bowls, earthen coffee-pots, and a matchlock, of which great care is
taken, it being generally kept in a leathern case. At night I reposed
upon a large well-tanned cow-skin: the covering was formed of a number
of small sheep-skins neatly sewed together, similar to those used in
Nubia. The Hodheyl told me, that before the Wahabys came, and obliged
them to pay tribute for their fields, they knew no land-tax, but, on the
contrary, received yearly presents from the sherifs, and from all the
Mekkawys who passed this way to Tayf. Ras el Kora extends from east to
west about two and a half or three miles, and is about a mile in
breadth. According to the statements of the Arabs, many spots towards
the south, where Bedouin tribes, like the Hodheyl, cultivate the soil in
detached parts of the mountain, are equally fertile and beautiful as
that which we saw in the chain above mentioned.
We left the Ras, which will be remembered by me as long as I am sensible
to the charms of romantic scenery, and rode for about one hour over
uneven barren ground, with slight ascents and descents, till we came to
a steep declivity, to walk down which occupied us half an hour, and
double that time would be necessary for ascending it. The rock is
entirely composed of sand-stone. From the summit of the declivity just
mentioned, Tayf is seen in the distance. At half an hour from the foot
of the mountain, we entered a fertile valley, called Wady Mohram,
extending from N.W. to S.E. Like the upper district, it is full of
fruit-trees; but the few cultivated fields are watered from wells, and
not by running streams. A village, which the Wahabys had almost wholly
ruined, stands on the slope, with a small tower constructed by the
inhabitants to secure the produce of their fields against the invasion
of enemies.
[p.68] Here begins the territory of Tayf, and of the Arab tribe of
Thekyf, who, in former times, were often at war with their neighbours
the Hodheyl. The Wady is denominated Mohram, from the circumstance, that
here the pilgrims and visitors going from the eastward to Mekka, invest
themselves with the ihram before noticed. There is a small ruined stone
tank close by the road. The caravan of the Yemen pilgrims, called Hadj
el Kebsy, whose route lies along these mountains, used always to observe
the ceremony here, and the tank was then filled with water for ablution.
The husbandmen of Mohram draw the water from their wells in leathern
buckets suspended from one end of an iron chain, passed round a pulley,
and to the other end they yoke a cow, which, for want of a wheel, walks
to a sufficient distance from the well to draw up the bucket, when she
is led back to resume the same course. The cows I saw here, like all
those of the Hedjaz, are small, but of a stout, bony make: they have
generally only short stumps of horns, and a hump on the back, just over
the shoulder, about five inches in height and six in length, much
resembling in this respect the cows which I saw on the borders of the
Nile in Nubia. According to the natives, the whole chain of mountains
from hence southward, as far as the country where the coffee-plantations
begin, is intersected by similar cultivated valleys at some distance
from each other, the intermediate space consisting chiefly of barren
rocky soil.
From Wady Mohram we again crossed uneven, mountainous ground, where I
found sand-stone and silex. Acacia trees are seen in several sandy
valleys, branching out from the road. At two hours and a half from Wady
Mohram we ascended, and at the top of the hill saw Tayf lying before us.
We reached it in three hours and a half from Wady Mohram, after having
crossed the barren sandy plain which separates it from the surrounding
hills. The rate of our march from Mekka, when we were quite alone upon
our dromedaries, and able to accelerate their pace at pleasure, was not
[p.69] less than three miles, and a quarter per hour. I therefore
calculate from Mekka to the foot of Djebel Kora, about thirty-two miles;
to its top, ten miles; and from thence to Tayf, thirty miles, making in
the whole seventy-two miles. The bearing of the road from Arafat to Tayf
is about twelve or fifteen degrees of the compass, to the southward of
that from Mekka to Arafat; but having had no compass with me, I cannot
give the bearing with perfect accuracy.
[p.70] RESIDENCE AT TAYF.
I ARRIVED at Tayf about mid-day, and alighted at the house of Bosari,
the Pashas physician, with whom I had been well acquainted at Cairo. As
it was now the fast of Ramadhan, during which the Turkish grandees
always sleep in the day-time, the Pasha could not be informed of my
arrival till after sun-set. In the mean while, Bosari, after the usual
Levantine assurances of his entire devotion to my interests, and of the
sincerity of his friendship, asked me what were my views in coming to
the Hedjaz. I answered, to visit Mekka and Medina, and then to return to
Cairo. Of my intention respecting Egypt he seemed doubtful, begged me to
be candid with him as with a friend, and to declare the truth, as he
confessed that he suspected I was going to the East Indies. This I
positively denied; and in the course of our conversation, he hinted that
if I really meant to return to Egypt, I had better remain at head-
quarters with them, till the Pasha himself should proceed to Cairo.
Nothing was said about money, although Bosari was ignorant that my
pecuniary wants had been relieved at Djidda.
In the evening Bosari went privately to the Pasha at his womens
residence, where he only received visits from friends or very intimate
acquaintances. In half an hour he returned, and told me that the Pasha
wished to see me rather late that evening in his public room. He added,
that he found seated with the Pasha
[p.071] the Kadhy of Mekka, who was then at Tayf for his health; and
that the former, when he heard of my desire to visit the holy cities,
observed jocosely, it is not the beard [I wore a beard at this time, as
I did at Cairo, when the Pasha saw me.] alone which proves a man to be a
true Moslem; but turning towards the Kadhy, he said, you are a better
judge in such matters than I am. The Kadhy then observed that, as none
but a Moslem could be permitted to see the holy cities, a circumstance
of which he could not possibly suppose me ignorant, he did not believe
that I would declare myself to be one, unless I really was. When I
learnt these particulars, I told Bosari that he might return alone to
the Pasha; that my feelings had already been much hurt by the orders
given to my guide not to carry me through Mekka; and that I certainly
should not go to the Pashas public audience, if he would not receive me
as a Turk.
Bosari was alarmed at this declaration, and in vain endeavoured to
dissuade me from such a course, telling me that he had orders to conduct
me to the Pasha, which he could not disobey. I however adhered firmly to
what I had said, and he reluctantly went back to Mohammed Aly, whom he
found alone, the Kadhy having left him. When Bosari delivered his
message, the Pasha smiled, and answered that I was welcome, whether Turk
or not. About eight oclock in the evening I repaired to the castle, a
miserable, half-ruined habitation of Sherif Ghaleb, dressed in the new
suit which I had received at Djidda by the Pashas command. I found his
highness seated in a large saloon, with the Kadhy on one hand, and
Hassan Pasha, the chief of the Arnaut soldiers, on the other; thirty or
forty of his principal officers formed a half-circle about the sofa on
which they sat; and a number of Bedouin sheikhs were squatted in the
midst of the semicircle. I went up to the Pasha, gave him the Salam
Aleykum, and kissed his hand. He made a sign for me to sit down by the
side of the
[p.72] Kadhy, then addressed me very politely, inquired after my health,
and if there was any news from the Mamelouks in the Black country which
I had visited; but said nothing whatever on the subject most interesting
to me. Amyn Effendi, his Arabic dragoman, interpreted between us, as I
do not speak Turkish, and the Pasha speaks Arabic very imperfectly. In
about five minutes he renewed the business with the Bedouins, which I
had interrupted. When this was terminated, and Hassan Pasha had left the
room, every body was ordered to withdraw, except the Kadhy, Bosari, and
myself. I expected now to be put to the proof, and I was fully prepared
for it; but not a word was mentioned of my personal affairs, nor did
Mohammed Aly, in any of our subsequent conversations, ever enter further
into them than to hint that he was persuaded I was on my way to the East
Indies. As soon as we were alone, the Pasha introduced the subject of
politics. He had just received information of the entrance of the allies
into Paris, and the departure of Bonaparte for Elba; and several Malta
gazettes, giving the details of these occurrences, had been sent to him
from Cairo. He seemed deeply interested in these important events,
chiefly because he laboured under the impression that, after Bonapartes
downfall, England would probably seek for an augmentation of power in
the Mediterranean, and consequently invade Egypt.
After remaining for two or three hours with the Pasha in private
conversation, either speaking Arabic to him, through the medium of the
Kadhy, who, though a native of Constantinople, knew that language
perfectly, or Italian, through Bosari, who was an Armenian, but had
acquired a smattering of that tongue at Cairo, I took my leave, and the
Pasha said that he expected me again on the morrow at the same hour.
August 29th.--I paid a visit to the Kadhy before sun-set, and found him
with his companion and secretary, a learned man of Constantinople. The
Kadhy Sádik Effendi was a true eastern
[p.73] courtier, of very engaging manners and address, possessing all
that suavity of expression for which the well-bred natives of Stamboul
are so distinguished. After we had interchanged a few complimentary
phrases, I mentioned my astonishment on finding that the Pasha had
expressed any doubts of my being a true Moslem, after I had now been a
proselyte to that faith for so many years. He replied that Mohammed Aly
had allowed that he (the Kadhy) was the best judge in such matters; and
added, that he hoped we should become better acquainted with each other.
He then began to question me about my Nubian travels. In the course of
conversation literary subjects were introduced: he asked me what Arabic
hooks I had read, and what commentaries on the Koran and on the law; and
he probably found me better acquainted, with the titles, at least, of
such works than he had expected, for we did not enter deeply into the
subject. While we were thus conversing, the call to evening prayers
announced the termination of this days fast. I supped with the Kadhy,
and afterwards performed the evening prayers in his company, when I took
great care to chaunt as long a chapter of the Koran as my memory
furnished at the moment; after which we both went to the Pasha, who
again sat up a part of the night in private conversation with me,
chiefly on political affairs, without ever introducing the subject of my
private business.
After another interview, I went every evening, first to the Kadhy, and
then to the Pasha; but, notwithstanding a polite reception at the
castle, I could perceive that my actions were closely watched. Bosari
had asked me if I kept a journal; but I answered that the Hedjaz was not
like Egypt, full of antiquities, and that in these barren mountains I
saw nothing worthy of notice. I was never allowed to be alone for a
moment, and I had reason to suspect that Bosari, with all his assurances
of friendship, was nothing better than a spy. To remain at Tayf for an
indeterminate period, in the situation I now found myself, was little
[p.74] desirable; yet I could not guess the Pashas intentions with
respect to me. I was evidently considered in no other light than as a
spy sent to this country by the English government, to ascertain its
present state, and report upon it in the East Indies. This, I presume,
was the Pashas own opinion: he knew me as an Englishman, a name which I
assumed during my travels (I hope without any discredit to that
country), whenever it seemed necessary to appear as an European; because
at that time none but the subjects of England and France enjoyed in the
East any real security: they were considered as too well protected, both
by their governments at home and their ministers at Constantinople, to
be trifled with by provincial governors. The Pasha, moreover, supposed
me to be a man of some rank, for every Englishman travelling in the East
is styled My lord; and he was the more convinced of this by a certain
air of dignity which it was necessary for me to assume in a Turkish
court, where modesty of behaviour and affability are quite out of place.
Afraid as he then was of Great Britain, he probably thought it imprudent
to treat me ill, though he did nothing whatever to forward my projects.
As far as he knew, I could have only the five hundred piastres which he
had ordered for me at Djidda, and which were not sufficient to pay my
expenses for any length of time in the Hedjaz. Nothing was said to me
either by him or Bosari of taking my bill upon Cairo, as I had requested
him to do; but this favour I did not again solicit, having money enough
for the present, and expecting a fresh supply from Egypt.
To remain for any length of time at Tayf, in a sort of polite
imprisonment, was little to my taste; yet I could not press my departure
without increasing his suspicions. This was manifest after my first
interview with the Pasha and the Kadhy, and I knew that the reports of
Bosari might considerably influence the mind of Mohammed. Under these
circumstances, I thought the best course was to make Bosari tired of me,
and thus induce him
[p.75] involuntarily to forward my views. I therefore began to act at
his house with all the petulance of an Osmanly. It being the Ramadhan, I
fasted during the day, and at night demanded a supper apart; early on
the following morning I called for an abundant breakfast, before the
fast recommenced. I appropriated to myself the best room which his small
house afforded; and his servants were kept in constant attendance upon
me. Eastern hospitality forbids all resentment for such behaviour; I
was, besides, a great man, and on a visit to the Pasha. In my
conversations with Bosari, I assured him that I felt myself most
comfortably situated at Tayf, and that its climate agreed perfectly with
my health; and I betrayed no desire of quitting the place for the
present. To maintain a person in my character for any length of time at
Tayf, where provisions of all kinds were much dearer than in London, was
a matter of no small moment; and a petulant guest is everywhere
disagreeable. The design, I believe, succeeded perfectly; and Bosari
endeavoured to persuade the Pasha that I was a harmless being, in order
that I might be the sooner dismissed.
I had been six days at Tayf, but seldom went out, except to the castle
in the evening, when Bosari asked whether my business with the Pasha was
likely to prevent me much longer from pursuing my travels, and visiting
Mekka. I replied that I had no business with the Pasha, though I had
come to Tayf at his desire; but that my situation was very agreeable to
me, possessing so warm and generous a friend as he, my host. The next
day he renewed the subject, and remarked that it must be tiresome to
live entirely among soldiers, without any comforts or amusements,
unacquainted besides, as I was, with the Turkish language. I assented to
this; but added, that being ignorant of the Pashas wishes, I could
determine on nothing. This brought him to the point I wished. This
being the case, said he, I will, if you like, speak to his Highness on
the subject. He did so in the evening, before I went to the castle; and
the Pasha told me, in the course of conversation,
[p.76] that as he understood I wished to pass the last days of Ramadhan
at Mekka, (a suggestion originating with Bosari,) I had better join the
party of the Kadhy, who was going there to the feast, and who would be
very glad of my company. This was precisely such a circumstance as I
wished for. The departure of the Kadhy was fixed for the 7th of
September, and I hired two asses, the usual mode of conveyance in this
country, in order to follow him.
As it was my intention to proceed afterwards to Medina, where Tousoun
Pasha, the son of Mohammed Aly, was governor, I begged Bosari to ask the
Pasha for a firman or passport, authorising me to travel through all the
Hedjaz, together with a letter of recommendation to his son. In reply,
Bosari told me that the Pasha did not like to interfere personally in my
travels; that I might act as I pleased, on my own responsibility; and
that my knowledge of the language rendered a passport unnecessary. This
was equivalent to telling me, Do what you please; I shall neither
obstruct nor facilitate your projects, which, indeed, was as much, at
present, as I could well expect or desire.
On the 6th of September I took my leave of the Pasha, who told me at
parting, that if ever my travels should carry me to India, I might
assure the English people there that he was much attached to the
interests of the India trade. Early on the 7th the Kadhy sent me word
that he should not set out till evening, would travel during the night,
and hoped to meet me at Djebel Kora, midway to Mekka. I therefore left
Tayf alone, as I had entered it, after a residence of ten days. At
parting, Bosari assured me of his inviolable attachment to my interest;
and I blessed my good stars, when I left the precincts of the town, and
the residence of a Turkish court, in which I found it more difficult to
avoid danger, than among the wild Bedouins of Nubia.