CHAPTER III

THE CITY OF AGADES

The Eghalgawen massif contains a number of watering-points. The

pool of Eghalgawen is near the junction of a valley sloping down

from the hills, the main valley here assuming the name of the

watering-point. Abundant water exists all the year round under the sand

in the bed near a low rock on the left bank. It has rather taken the

place of Tergulawen well as a _point de passage_ for caravans on the

Great South Road, and used in the past to be a favourite resort for

caravan raiders. The neighbouring hill, like the one at Tergulawen,

is a well-known watch-tower in times of trouble, since both of

them command the approaches to a strategic point.[75] T’in Wana,

Tarrajerat, Tebehic and some pools in the Isagelmas valley on the

southern periphery of the Eghalgawen massif, are watering-points for

the camels and flocks of the tribes which range over Azawagh, to-day

the Ifadeyen. Their winter camping grounds can be seen all the way from

Tagedufat to the River of Agades; they are readily distinguishable

from the older permanent settlements of the original Kel Azawagh who

grew millet in this area. Besides the Ifadeyen, the Kel Giga section

of the Kel Tadek use the Eghalgawen hills and Azawagh pastures very

considerably after the rains. The Ifoghas of Damergu rarely come

so far north, since, having few camels, they lack incentive to seek

these superlative desert pastures. Those members of this tribe whom

I saw in Azawagh were typical in possessing only donkeys and goats,

which of course will eat almost anything.

After a 560-mile excursion to Termit and Elakkos, I rejoined my

travelling companions, whom I had forsaken at Tanut, in the little

massif on the south side of the River of Agades. They were camped a

short day’s march from Milen, at the famous permanent pool in the

T’in Wana valley. Of all pools in Africa it is of T’in Wana that I

shall keep the pleasantest recollections. I was greeted by a fusillade

of welcome and immediately went for a swim in the deep pool that had

recently been filled by the rains. The channel cut by the water in

the rock was in places fifteen feet deep. The pool had a sandy bottom,

with a rock four feet high at one end for a diving platform. A length

of twenty yards was clear to swim in, and then came a succession of

smaller pools beneath the arches and overhanging sides of red and

black rock. The erosion of the sandstone was most remarkable. There

were witches’ cauldrons and buttresses and enchanted caves, with

deep crannies in the tall vertical sides. In the wide valley above,

masses of green bushes and branching palms seemed to make the place

a heaven-sent garden of rest in a hot land. We were all very happy,

and the camels were improving fast. Our men were delighted to see the

mountains of Air again. My guide from the south, Ishnegga, who was of

the Ifadeyen, found relations in a neighbouring valley. There were

acquaintances on the road to gossip with and discuss. Poor Ishnegga

shot himself accidentally some months later, as I heard from his

beautiful old mother, whom I had met at Hannekar and saw for a second

time on my way home.

The sides of the T’in Wana ravine were covered with T’ifinagh

inscriptions relating to the tribes that had pastured here in their

time; they recorded the names of people, messages to and from their

friends, and the professions of love of their men and women. The

low hills behind were rough and without vegetation or soil; but

some mountain sheep, gazelle and sand-grouse subsisted on the coarse

grass in the ravines. The sandstone of the massif seemed to have been

subjected to volcanic heat. A deposit of fossil trees among the rocks

and boulders was found: a specimen piece picked up near Akaraq a few

miles north-east had probably been brought from this deposit near

T’in Wana. It was identified on my return as a Tertiary conifer,

but the siliceous replacement had been too complete to permit of more

detailed examination, except by microscope.

A very pleasant camp was eventually broken, and Tebehic, on the

north-west side of the hills, with two watering-places, was reached

after crossing the Isagelmas valley, a collector for several small

rivulets draining the western side of the hills. In spite of an attack

of malaria, which overcame me, Tebehic proved most interesting, for I

made friends with a family of Ifadeyen who were camping there during

the rains. The man had some cows and supplied me with fresh milk,

a great luxury after camel’s milk and the condensed sort out of a

tin. He was a widower with several children, and quite charming. One

of the children was suffering from a severe abscess in the right

ear. It had been “treated” by blocking the orifice with a paste

made of fresh camel dung and wood ash mixed with pounded leaf of the

pungent Abisgi (_Capparis sodata_) bush. I suppose the mixture was

intended to act like a mustard poultice, but the discharge from the

abscess being unable to escape had been causing the child acute pain,

which it was easy to relieve by clearing out the mess and washing the

ear. The abscess having previously opened of its own accord, the pain

ceased almost as soon as the “remedy” had been removed. It was

the first of my “cures” as a doctor among the Tuareg, and laid

the foundations of a great reputation!

PLATE 8

[Illustration: TIN WANA POOL]

[Illustration: ROCK OF THE TWO SLAVES, AT THE JUNCTION OF THE TIN

WANA AND EGHALGAWEN VALLEYS]

After a few days at Tebehic we proceeded to cross the broad plain

of the River of Agades, whither one of my companions had preceded

me. Memories of that plain are unpleasant. A day’s march from

the shelter of the Tebehic valley we were overtaken by a violent

thunderstorm right out in the open just south of T’in Taboraq. As

a convalescent cure for malaria, designed to make any reputable

European doctor shudder, I recommend getting up after three days in

bed, marching six hours on a camel in the sun, and then spending

two more holding up a tent in company with four other men in an

eighty-mile-an-hour storm with a rainfall of three-quarters of

an inch in about half an hour. The exertions of five of us were

successful in keeping the tent up and the baggage dry, but proved

tiring. As soon as the wind was over the five human tentpoles were

turned on to canalisation, which soon became necessary to drain away

the deluge. When this passed, a search over the countryside had to be

instituted for articles of equipment carried away by the storm. The

camp stove, an unwieldy cube of sheet-iron some fifteen inches each

way, and weighing nine pounds, was found 3000 yards from the camp. But

the storm had been magnificent. It had commenced at about 3 p.m. as

a black cloud hanging over the Air mountains in the north. The wind,

before it acquired full force, bore along a cloud of orange sand

gleaming in the sun, which was still uncovered by the blue-black storm

above. Suddenly everything seemed to be going on at once, sunshine,

sand-storm, wind, purple squalls and a white uniformity of tearing,

sweeping rain. By six o’clock it was all over. The sun set in a

pale yellow sky behind the T’in Wana range. The northern hills grew

slate-coloured and then black, and the storm went rolling on into

Damergu, illuminating the night with lightning. Hitherto my worst

experience of rain had been at Guliski in Damergu, when myself,

three natives and our baggage lay in a hut nine feet in diameter;

it rained all night, and slowly flooded us out. One felt the water

rising among the blankets in an atmosphere of damp clamminess and

native humanity. Then had come a hopeless dawn, but the air soon dried

everything. Yet I had still to learn what storms in the mountains

could be like.

The north side of the River of Agades opposite Tebehic has no definite

bank. The mountains of Air slope gradually down to the valley; they

are intersected by larger and smaller valleys, forming a series of

roughly parallel right bank tributaries all in close proximity to

one another. The widest of them are the Azanzara, Tureyet, Amidera,

Teghazar and Telwa, most of which start north of the Taruaji

mountains—the Tureyet and Telwa, in fact, have their head-waters

in the Bagezan and Todra groups in Central Air. Some small villages

lie among the foothills by these valleys, but it is dull country. A

few small ill-grown trees and a little grass are all the vegetation

on the succession of gravel patches which constitute the plain. The

sight of the mountains of Air in front makes one want to hurry on.

South of one of these villages the opening tragedy of the 1917

revolution took place. A platoon of French Camel Corps, after

completing their duties as escort to the Bilma salt caravan, had

supervised the dispersal of the camels in their various tribal

groups at Tabello, east of Bagezan, and were returning to Agades

for a rest. They had been away perhaps a month and now were within a

day’s march of the city. They knew nought of what had happened in

Air, suspected absolutely nothing of the unfriendly disposition of

the Tuareg. Near T’in Taboraq a large force of Tuareg, which had

been lying in ambush behind a little hill on the northern edge of the

plain, fell on the column as it was beginning its last day’s march

into Agades post. A running fight ensued, in the course of which nearly

the whole platoon of Camel Corps were destroyed. One officer, who was

returning to France on leave, escaped southward, and a few wounded

Senegalese “tirailleurs” found their way with difficulty into the

fort at Agades, which had been attacked early one morning a day or two

before while the garrison was out on parade. The revolution had been

prepared for some time, with the connivance of the Sultan of Agades,

by a Tuareg noble named Kaossen, an inveterate enemy of the French

since 1900. The outbreak had been proposed by Kaossen and aided by the

Senussiya and hostile elements in the Fezzan and Tripolitania as part

of the anti-French and -British activities which continued in North

Africa throughout the European war. The development in Air, however,

came as a surprise to the French. All the Tuareg in the plateau rose,

and although the garrison at Agades held out for over three months in

doubt and in complete isolation, the revolt spread into Damergu and

fears were even entertained for the safety of Northern Nigeria. The

defence of Agades and the arrival of a column from Zinder, acting in

conjunction with another column from the Niger, eventually saved the

situation. The heroic resistance of the garrison at Agades and the

magnificent work of the military organisation of French West Africa,

over these huge expanses of country at the end of 1917 and early in

1918, have probably never even been heard of, still less recognised,

in England, where events nearer home at a most critical period

of the war obscured the issue of “another minor incident in the

Sahara.” The column from Zinder, in spite of a severe check on the

way, was the largest single body of men ever successfully sent over

a desert against a nomadic people. It is my privilege to record in

England, I think for the first time, the courage of those gallant

French soldiers who indirectly defended Nigeria. Their efforts in

Air saved a British colony from facing a situation which might have

become serious owing to the general depletion of forces there, as

elsewhere during those tragic months of the Great War. I am happy

to make this acknowledgment, both as tribute to the French soldiers

whom I had the pleasure of meeting during the Great War and in 1922,

and particularly because even in Nigeria the gravity of the 1917

revolution has never been sufficiently recognised.

My route over the plain of the River of Agades lay in sight of Mount

Gadé, a flat-topped hill standing alone to the south. The track used

by parties from Sokoto passes this conspicuous landmark after crossing

the Azawagh on the way to the rendezvous of the annual salt caravan

at Tabello, under the eastern slopes of Bagezan in Central Air. After

cutting this track we joined the Agades-Tabello road somewhat west

of T’in Taboraq. East of this village the road passes through the

other settlements which lie on the southern spurs of the Taruaji

massif before it turns north to Tabello.

The track now entered and wound along a valley called the Teghazar.[76]

The small torrent bed was very sodden after the rain of the previous

day. On either side were low hills of bare gravel with some rock

outcrop beginning to appear here and there. On the low scarps or

patches of loose stones a few ragged acacias had secured an existence,

marking the foot of the Air hills along the River of Agades. Eventually

the track rose up to the level of the highest undulations and we

came in sight of Agades. Almost simultaneously two Tuareg on camels

appeared on the road. They had been sent out from Agades with an

accumulation of letters, months overdue, and a message to say that

we were the guests of the French officers in the fort, about a mile

north of the city. As the last fold of ground was crossed, by a steep

bluff where Kaossen had constructed a military work during the siege

of the French garrison in 1917, the whole length of the city came

in sight on a low ridge to the south-west. The far end was marked

by the stately tower of the Great Mosque, unchanged since Barth saw

it more than seventy years ago. Straight ahead lay the French post,

surrounded by a defensive wall flanked by blockhouses and containing

the tall masts of a wireless station, near the wells of T’in Shaman

in a diminutive plain where the Foureau-Lamy Expedition had camped over

twenty years earlier. In 1917 there was no W/T station and scarcely

any fort; the buildings were all disconnected and scarcely defensible.

PLATE 9

[Illustration: AGADES]

The city of Agades used to be surrounded by mud walls, intended to

baffle raiders rather than to withstand a siege. The distance along

the line of their elliptical circumference, so far as it can still

be traced, is a matter of three and a half to four miles. The wall

has been much broken down and in some places is hard to find; its

perimeter and plan seem to have varied from time to time according

to the number of inhabitants. The best preserved parts are to the

north-west beyond the Great Mosque, and to the north, where gates

may be seen; there has evidently been considerable decay even since

1850.[77] At a distance the whole ridge on which the city stands

appears covered with low, earth-coloured houses, for the most part

without an upper storey. The regular sky-line is scarcely broken save

by a few dûm palms and tenuous trees rising above the uniform level

of the roofs. Only the tower of the mosque, like a finger pointing

up to heaven, soars over the drab habitations. Their dull uniformity

seems to enhance its dignity.

Agades is not a Tuareg city. Its foreign aspect is at once

apparent. Although it also struck Barth immediately, he was, curiously

enough, not so much concerned with what is really the most obvious

feature of the alien atmosphere as he was with the foreign language

and origin of most of the people he met there. His wanderings perhaps

brought him less into contact with the permanent settlements of the

Tuareg in Air than my good fortune did me; he could not otherwise have

failed to remark that the houses in Agades are those of a Sudanese

town and not those of the People of the Veil.

The most striking characteristic of the towns of the Sudan, of the

immense walled cities of Kano and Zaria, as well as of the smaller

places, is the mode of construction of the dwellings. There are two

types of houses and in neither of them is stone used. The first type is

the circular hut with a low vertical wall carrying a conical roof; the

fashion extends throughout Central Africa. This abode is constructed

of straw, or grass, or boughs, or of whatever material is readiest

to hand. The ground plan is circular unless specific conditions have

exerted a contrary influence, which occurs rather seldom. In the more

advanced settlements of this sort in Northern Nigeria a development of

the primitive form has taken place: it is a much larger structure with

vertical mud walls which support the conical thatched roof, sometimes

as much as twenty feet in diameter, standing within a compound. In

many North Nigerian villages the dwellings consist exclusively of

groups of such huts surrounded by low walls or enclosures.

The second type of house in the large towns of the Sudan is many-roomed

and formless. The whole building, including the roof, is made of mud

and often has one or more stories. The flat roof of mud and laths

is carried on rafters of dûm palm wood which is one of the only

available trees that resists the invasion of the white ant. Houses

of this type often cover a considerable area, rambling aimlessly

hither and thither in rooms, courts and alley-ways, according to

the requirements and fancy of the owner or his descendants. The

mud construction at times displays architectural features of real

distinction. The thick tapering walls are wide and smooth. The doorways

have a pylon-like appearance reminiscent of Egypt. The heavy squat

façades are by no means unimposing: deep cold shadows cast by angles

and buttresses break up the surface of the red walls. The broad panels

around the doors are sometimes elaborated with decorative mouldings

or with free arabesque designs in relief. The larger rooms which

cannot be spanned by one length of rafter are vaulted inside with

a false arch of mud, concealing cantilever timbering; the effect is

that of a series of massive Gothic arches, plain but often of noble

proportions. Technically, mud construction is easy, inexpensive

and adequate in a climate where the rainy season is short and well

defined. Balls of mud are dried in the sun and cemented together

with wet mud. The outer and inner walls are faced with a plaster of

earth and chopped straw. In the hot tropical sun the walls dry as

hard as stone. The houses survive for an unlimited period of time

if the outside surfaces are refaced every year after the torrential

rains have washed away the stucco skin. Roofs, of course, have to

be carefully levelled and drained to prevent the water accumulating

in puddles and, in time, soaking through the ceilings. Gutters are

provided with spouts projecting through the parapets of the roofs to

prevent the water running down the sides.

The rambling mud house and the circular mud or straw and thatch

huts, grouped in compounds, together make up the towns and villages

of Northern Nigeria. The two types may be seen side by side, for

instance in the country between Kano and Katsina, where the Fulani

and Hausa population is mixed. It would be interesting to establish,

as _prima facie_ seems to be the case, whether the circular houses

were those of the sedentary Fulani, who are nearer the semi-nomadic

state, and the more ambitious mud dwellings those of the Hausa. In

neither of these two types of house is stone used, either as ashlar

or as rough masonry. Nor do dry stone walls occur, for mud is more

convenient even when stone is available.[78]

When the Tuareg, on the other hand, builds permanent or semi-permanent

dwellings, he displays characteristics which at once differentiate

him from the people of the south. His straw and matting huts are not

of the Central African type; they have no vertical wall of reeds or

grass and a separate conical roof; they are built in one piece as a

parabolic dome. Another, movable, type of hut or tent consists of a

leather roof arched over four vertical uprights surrounded by matting

walls on a square plan. The appearance of these tents is that of a cube

with a slightly domed top. The permanent houses in Air are regular,

carefully built constructions of stone and cement. In them mud is

not employed except where the fashion of the south has been directly

copied in comparatively recent times. The rambling house plan of

the south is almost unknown. The Tuareg dwelling has a definitely

formal and rectangular character. It rarely consists of more than

two rooms. Even the exceptions to this rule[79] display considerable

differences from the southern type of house.

Both the temporary huts and the permanent dwellings of the People of

the Veil, therefore, are intensely individual. They differentiate

the Tuareg sharply from the southern peoples. But even a casual

glance at the houses of Agades makes it obvious that they belong

to a city of the south. There is plenty of stone all round the city

which might have been used for building, yet nearly all the houses

are rambling mud constructions like those of Kano or of any of the

towns of Nigeria. The number of houses at Agades which reflect the

formal Tuareg fashion of planning is small. The characteristics

which one learns to associate with the truly Tuareg houses of Air

are conspicuously difficult to find. When I was in Agades at the

commencement of the rains before the annual refacing of the walls

had been carried out, it was possible to observe the absence of

stone building. An inspection of the broken walls of the many ruined

houses confirmed this observation of the past. The number of pools

in the town alone was evidence of the prevalence and antiquity of

mud construction; Barth mentions the names of several of them. The

borrow pits in the Sudanese towns, where water accumulates in the

rainy season and rubbish is shot in the dry, are features which no one

can escape, were it only on account of the smells which they exhale;

for in the Sudan, even when stone is available as at Kano, it is not

used. I have vivid recollections of Agades at this season and was

particularly impressed by the efficiency of the spouts designed to

carry the water off the roofs. Progress was necessarily circuitous in

order to avoid drowning in the flooded holes and borrow pits, while

distraction was afforded by a determined but usually unsuccessful

effort to escape a series of shower-baths in the narrow streets.

The ridge on which the city stands is surrounded by several depressions

where are the wells that supply the needs of the population. In

addition to those outside the town there were formerly nine other

wells within the walls, but, like the pools, they were nearly all

adulterated by the saline impregnation of the ground.

I cannot here refrain from quoting Barth, whose capacity for meticulous

observation depended on never missing an opportunity, however strange,

of acquiring information. “The houses of Agades do not possess all

the convenience which one would expect to find in houses in the north

of Europe; but here, as in many Italian towns, the principle of _da

per tutto_, which astonished Goethe so much at Rivoli on the Lago di

Garda, is in full force, being greatly assisted by the many ruined

houses which are to be found in every quarter of the town. But the

free nomadic inhabitant of the wilderness does not like this custom,

and rather chooses to retreat into the open spots outside the town. The

insecurity of the country and the feuds generally raging oblige them

still to congregate, even on such occasions. When they reach some

conspicuous tree the spears are all stuck into the ground, and the

party separates behind the bushes; after which they again meet under

the tree, and return in solemn procession to the town. By making such

little excursions I became acquainted with the shallow depressions

which surround Agades. . . .” He then proceeds to enumerate them.[80]

The plain where the French fort lies is called Tagurast, that to the

S.W., Mermeru; to the S.E. is Ameluli, with Tisak n’Talle somewhat

further away to the S.S.E.; Tara Bere lies to the west.

The city is divided into several quarters, the names of which are

recorded on Barth’s plan. The only two I heard mentioned were

Terjeman and Katanga, the former so called from the interpreters who

used to live in the neighbourhood, the latter from the market where

what Americans would term “dry goods” of the Air fashion are

sold. Little seems to have changed in seventy-five years; necklaces,

stone arm-rings, wooden spoons and cotton cloth can be bought, now as

then. In the larger market near by, called by the Hausa name of Kaswa

n’Rakumi (the Camel Market), live-stock of all sorts is sold. The

vegetable market seems to be as ill furnished now as it was in 1850.

I visited two or three private houses. They were not imposing,

lacking the architectural features of the better-class houses in the

Sudan. The use of white and colour washes in the interiors and on

the outside walls was interesting. This practice is the only feature

in which the houses of Agades differed from those of the Sudan; it

appears to be peculiar in this part of Africa to the Tuareg, the habit

having, no doubt, been copied from the north. The pigment is made of a

chalky substance found near Agades, or of ochreous earths occurring in

various places in Air. One of the houses which I saw was that of the

Añastafidet, the administrative head of the Kel Owi tribes. The rooms

were small and ill-planned; there was no attempt at decoration. The

technique of the south had evidently not flourished in the atmosphere

of the Sahara. The two plans of private houses reproduced by Barth

give an idea of the rambling and haphazard designing.

The most elaborate and well-kept house is the one which belongs to

the Kadhi, near the Great Mosque. It must have been here that Barth

attended several sittings of the Kadhi’s Court, adjudicating

on inter-tribal matters which could not be settled by the tribal

chiefs. It did not seem at all remarkable after the great houses of

the Sudan, but was perhaps rather better kept than most of the other

buildings in Agades. The people call it the House of Kaossen, and his

family still live there. He carried on his intrigues from this place,

and plotted with apparent impunity through 1917, until the time was

ripe for open rebellion. He had returned from the Fezzan full of

ambition to free his country from the white men whom he fought all

his life. He had taken part in the operations against the French

in Equatorial Africa, largely directed by the Senussiya from their

“zawias” in Tibesti and Ennedi. When this period of hostility came

to an end, but not before the French had sustained several severe

reverses, notably during the fighting at Bir Alali (Fort Pradie),

north-east of Lake Chad, Kaossen took refuge with the Azger Tuareg

in the Eastern Fezzan, raiding and fighting with these lawless folk

against their neighbours. Of his own initiative, but aided by the

Senussiya and their Turkish and German advisers, Kaossen returned to

his native country in 1917 with a small band of supporters to drive

out the French, an effort in which he very nearly succeeded.

By far the most considerable monument of the city is the Great

Mosque. I was unable to visit the interior, but from the general

appearance of the building I am sure that I should have agreed with

the description of Barth, who wrote: “The lowness of the structure

had surprised me from without, but I was still more astonished when

I entered the interior and saw that it consisted of low narrow naves

divided by pillars of immense thickness, the reason of which it is not

possible at present to understand, as they have nothing to support but

a roof of dûm-tree boards, mats and a layer of clay.” He goes on to

speculate on the superstructure which these “vaults or cellars” may

have been designed to carry but which was never completed. I do not

think such speculation is necessary. The description fits accurately

every one of the seven or eight other mosques in Air which I saw within

and without. In none of them were the walls ever meant to carry an

upper storey. In all of them the ceiling was low and the roof flat,

with rows of massive pillars and the naves running transversely from

north to south across the buildings, which were usually far broader

than they were deep.

The Great Mosque of Agades as it stands to-day was built in 1844.[81]

It would hardly be remarkable were it not for the minaret, which was

rebuilt by the Sultan Abd el Qader in 1847 to replace the one which

had fallen. From a base thirty feet square resting on four massive

pilasters in the interior of the mosque, this four-sided tower of mud

and dûm-palm rafters rises to a height of between eighty and ninety

feet, tapering from about one-third of its height to a narrow platform

less than eight feet square at the top. Access is obtained by a spiral

way between the solid core and the outer wall, which is pierced with

small windows. From a little distance the foreshortening produced by

the tapering faces gives the impression of immense height without

accentuating the pyramidical form. The four-square, flat sides are

bound together by transverse rafters projecting some three or four

feet. These ends serve the purpose of scaffolding when refacing is

necessary after the rains, an operation without which the tower would

not have stood any length of time. Near the mosque is a heap of mud,

the remains of an older tower called “Sofo,” presumably of the

same type.[82]

The structure is properly speaking a minaret, but was used

as a watch-tower in time of war. It is not now used for either

purpose. The muezzin stands on the roof of the mosque below to call

upon the Faithful at the prescribed hours to forsake their pursuits

and turn to the only God. The Tower of Agades stands like a beacon,

showing far over the monotonous plains. I remember this solitary

pillar towering above a confused mass of low and ruinous buildings

against the blood-red setting sun, which appeared and disappeared in

the black clouds of an evening in the rains. The blue hills and sharp

peaks of Air were distant in the north; to the south lay a drab plain,

unbroken as far as eye could see in the gathering twilight. The Tower

seemed like the lonely monument of a decaying civilisation.

There are said to have been as many as seventy mosques in and near

the city, but only two, I think, are still used. Outside the walls

to the S.W. there is a shrine known as Sidi Hamada, “My Lord of

the Desert,” appropriately named considering the barren nature

of the ground all round. It is an open place of prayer of much

sanctity, and reputed to be the oldest Moslem place of worship in the

neighbourhood. The Qibla is in a low bank, faced with a dry stone wall,

which slopes down to the level of the surrounding ground a few feet on

each side of the niche. On certain occasions prayers are said at Sidi

Hamada, notably on the Feast of the Sheep, known to the Tuareg as Salla

Laja, which I was fortunate enough to witness at Agades in June 1922.

PLATE 10

[Illustration: GATHERING AT SIDI HAMADA]

[Illustration: PRAYERS AT SIDI HAMADA]

It was made the occasion of much festivity. Every available camel

in the vicinity was ridden by a Tuareg in the gayest saddle and

bridle from the city to the shrine. These people do not feel that

they are making the best of themselves unless they are mounted on a

camel. A man and his camel are complementary and reciprocal to one

another. When there is an occasion to celebrate they wear their best

clothes and borrow any ornaments they can find to adorn their sombre

garments. They are vain of their personal appearance and covetous of

those pretty things which are considered in good taste, but their

unselfishness is nevertheless remarkable. I have seen men forgo

the real pleasure of wearing a silver ornament or a new face veil

in order to lend them to a less fortunate companion whose general

appearance was more ragged, or whose means and opportunities did not

allow him to secure anything to smarten his turn-out. I had bought

of the local jeweller-blacksmith in Agades a number of small silver

ornaments of the sort which are affected by the Tuareg. All these,

and even certain articles of clothing from our own scanty wardrobes,

were borrowed for the day. It was curious to see that their sombre

apparel was never lightened by any of the coloured materials so much

in evidence in the Sudan. The best-dressed man is considered to be

the one with the newest indigo-cotton robe and veil of the traditional

plain design. At the most a red cloth is tied round the head over the

face veil, or, in the case of the guides employed by the French, around

the waist and shoulders: the robe must, however, always be plain white

or dark indigo. The Tuareg of our own retinue picked out the best of

our camels to ride. They turned out a very smart patrol, the camel

men Elattu, Alwali and Mokhammed of noble caste, with two or three

buzus or outdoor slaves, and Ali the son of Tama, the Arab from Ghat.

At an early hour the poorer people on foot began to stream over the

tufted plain which lies between the place of prayer and the city. They

were followed by little parties of men on camels, black figures on

great dun-coloured or white riding beasts, girt about with their

cross-hilted swords, and some also carrying a spear and oryx-hide

shield. Finally, a larger group of men, preceded by three or four

horsemen, was seen approaching. They were the Sultan of Agades,

Omar, the Slave King of the Tuareg of Air, with his attendants,

and the Añastafidet, a noble of the Kel Owi tribes, who, from the

purely administrative point of view, is the most important man in the

country. They were accompanied by the chief minister of the Sultan,

the notables of the place, and other dignitaries. Among them was El

Haj Saleh, the father of our camel man Elattu; he had performed the

pilgrimage three times, in the course of which he had acquired the

Arab fashion of dress used in the north. He wore the white woollen

robe that is supposed to be descended from the Roman toga, with his

head covered only by a fold of the cloth. El Haj Saleh has lived so

long in foreign parts that he no longer veils his face and prefers

speaking Arabic, but he is much respected as a learned and holy man;

he is now employed by the French at the fort as Oriental Secretary

and interpreter. With him were the Kadhi and the Imam, a solitary

exception among the veiled Tuareg in the matter of display, for he

had obtained from the south a buff-coloured silk robe embroidered

with green. The Sariki n’Turawa, or chief minister of the Sultan,

came next; near him gathered a number of Arab merchants from Ghat

and Tuat in white robes; with one or two from the extreme west, there

were a dozen or fifteen in all, who have the trade of Agades in their

hands. Among them I perceived one Arab from Mauretania, a little man

with delicate, sensitive features and a brown beard. He came straight

up to where I was standing to repay me a debt of five silver francs

which he had incurred some months before at Gangara in Damergu.

PLATE 11

[Illustration: PRAYERS AT SIDI HAMADA, NEAR AGADES]

When the crowd had collected, the men ranged themselves in rows facing

east before the Qibla; the women stood together on one side. The

Sultan and his party were immediately opposite the niche with the

Imam facing them. He began to read the Quran and the multitude

then prayed. On either side of the Sultan, as he knelt to make his

prostrations, a Tuareg remained standing with his sword drawn, extended

point downwards at arm’s length, in protection and salute. As the

Sultan rose to his feet the guard sloped their swords, repeating the

salute every time he bowed before the name of God. These two men are

distinct from the officials in the local administration;[83] they are

the personal body-guard of the Sultan, chosen among the “courtiers

of the king,” who are young men selected in turn from the tribes

in Air which owe allegiance direct to the Sultan.

After the prayers were over two sheep were slaughtered in the

orthodox manner. Their throats were cut by the Imam, reciting the

invocation of Islam, and the blood was wiped away with holy water to

the accompaniment of suitable prayers.

The Sultan and the people then returned to the city, making a detour

by the N.W. side through the ruined suburb outside the walls and past

the Great Mosque to the present palace, an indifferent building,

both tumbledown and dirty. The reigning Sultan, Omar, like all his

predecessors, is of slave descent. He was chosen in 1920 by the

tribes which have the right to elect him, from a collateral branch

of the ruling family. He is a weak man, and too much in the hands

either of interested advisers or of the French, which does not always

mean the same thing. His predecessor, Tegama, on the other hand,

was a remarkable man. His intrigues with Kaossen were successful in

preparing the revolution in Air so quietly that practically nothing

was suspected of his intentions until the fateful dawn when the black

troops on parade at the post were fired upon from the outskirts of the

city. After the French columns had relieved the besieged garrison,

both Kaossen and Tegama fled east to Kawar, whence the former found

his way to the Fezzan, only to be killed, so it is believed, in obscure

circumstances north of Murzuk by some Arabs. The native accounts of the

story cast some doubt on his actual death on the grounds that his body

was never found among those of his massacred companions. It is further

represented that the very Turks and Senussiya whom he had served put

him to death for his failure in Air, but it appears more probable that

on his way to seek refuge with the Senussiya in Cyrenaica, Kaossen

and his friends had the misfortune to fall in with a band of Arabs

whom he had raided in the olden days, and to have been killed by them.

The Sultan Tegama, on the other hand, betook himself to Tibesti,

hoping to find sanctuary among the Tebu, who, though the hereditary

enemies of the Tuareg of Air, were probably sufficiently hostile to

the French to be counted on to harbour any prominent refugee from

the wrath of the white man. By the influence of the Senussiya in

these parts he expected to reach Kufra and so take up his residence

among the malcontents who live in that remote land. Treacherous as

ever and true to their reputation current all over North Africa,

the Tebu entreated Tegama generously and took the first opportunity

which presented itself to hand him over to a French camel patrol from

Bilma. In the course of time he returned to Agades as a prisoner under

an escort of negro Senegalese soldiers and was thrown into prison

at the fort to await his trial by court-martial. He died suddenly

one night in May 1922, by his own hand it is said, in the prison,

while under the surveillance of the French, and he was buried. But

one chief who was at the funeral told me that he looked under the mat

which covered the alleged corpse and discovered that there was nothing

there. The story spread that Tegama escaped and fled to the north,

where he is still living. Perhaps it is better that this story should

obtain credence than any other. Instead of Tegama, the French officer

in charge of the post was court-martialled for the suicide of the king,

but acquitted. The whole episode is curious, but the truth is perhaps

rather unsavoury. It is another of the fierce tragedies of the Sahara.

Before Tegama, Osman Mikitan and Brahim (Ibrahim Dan Sugi) were

Sultans. Mikitan was Sultan when the post was first established at

the wells of T’in Shaman, but they changed places several times

in the course of the intrigues which took place between the passage

of the Foureau-Lamy Expedition in 1899 and the occupation of Air in

1904. In Barth’s day Abd el Qader, son of the Sultan Bakiri (Bekri),

was on the throne. His tenure of office was as precarious as that of

his successors, for he had been Sultan on a previous occasion before

Barth reached Agades, only to be deposed in favour of Hamed el Rufai

(Ahmed Rufaiyi), whom he again succeeded; they once more changed

places some three years afterwards, Abd el Qader having reigned in

all about thirty-two years, Hamed some twelve. The tenure of office of

the Sultans of Agades during the last century has been as precarious

as it was in Leo’s time, for we read in this authority[84] that the

Tuareg “will sometime expel their king and choose another; so that he

which pleaseth the inhabitants of the desert best is sure to be king of

Agades.” Bello in his history says the same:[85] “whenever a prince

displeased them, they dethroned him and appointed a different one.”

The installation of the Sultan with the customs that obtain is

in the nature of a ceremonial recognition, by the representatives

of the principal tribes of the Tuareg of Air, of his elevation to

office. Taken in connection with the traditional mode of his selection,

it throws an interesting light on relationships of the various groups

of the Tuareg in Air. Barth, who was in Agades on such an occasion,

wrote: “The ceremonial was gone through inside the _fada_ (palace);

but this was the procedure. First of all Abd el Kader (Qader) was

conducted from his private apartments to the public hall: the chiefs

of the Itisan (Itesan) and Kel Geres who were in front begged him to

sit down upon the _gado_, a sort of couch or divan, made of the leaves

of the palm tree . . . similar to the _angarib_ used in Egypt and

the lands of the Upper Nile, and covered with mats and carpets. Upon

this the Sultan sat down, resting his feet on the ground, not being

allowed to put them on the _gado_ and recline in the Oriental style

until the Kel Owi had desired him to do so.[86] Such is the ceremony,

symbolical of the combined participation of these different tribes in

the investiture of their Sultan.”[87] The throne-room in the old

palace seems to have been more imposing than any part of the royal

dwelling of to-day. The present audience chamber is a low, arched room,

with a small daïs or seat at one end near a narrow stairway leading

up to three rooms in an upper storey, which is now not in use. These

rooms are lighted by small windows looking over the outer court. I

wandered at random in and out of the palace except that small part

which is still used by Omar himself and his women-folk. The deserted

rooms were deep in dust and fallen plaster. The courts were infested

with dogs, children and chickens. The palace was far less magnificent

and certainly less well kept than many other houses in the city. Even

the small house of the Añastafidet, with its mats and solitary carpet

of horrid colours on the floor of the guest-chamber, was more cleanly.

The present Sultan enjoys little or no authority; his predecessors,

unless they were backed by the more important chiefs in Air, were

almost equally powerless, for the position of the Sultan, or Amenokal,

as he is called in Temajegh, is curious. It is said in the native

tradition that in the early days there was no authority in the land

other than that of the chiefs of the various groups of tribes, and

these did not in any way acknowledge one another’s authority over

affairs which interested the community at large. The groups and

single tribes were constantly at war with one another, and there

were then 70,000 people in the land, with no common ruler.[88] The

more reasonable chiefs recognised that some figure-head at least

was necessary, but they could not agree that he should be chosen

from any of the principal groups of clans in Air. They therefore

sent a deputation to Istambul or Santambul (Constantinople) to the

Commander of the Faithful, asking him to appoint a Prince to come and

rule over them. The Khalif called together the sons of his wives and

offered them all the country from the land of the Aulimmiden in the

west to Sokoto in the east (_sic_), and from Tadent in the north to

the lands of the Negroes in the south. But Air was so far away that

none of the sons of the Khalif was willing to leave the comforts

of Stambul. The Embassy was kept waiting for three years. Finally

the Commander of the Faithful, weakening before the tears of his

legitimate wives, the mothers of his sons, selected the child of a

concubine to rule over the Tuareg of the south. The candidate returned

with the deputation to Air and from that day to this there are said

to have been one hundred rulers in the land. This figure does not,

of course, represent the exact number; it is only meant figuratively

to indicate a long period of time.

From the original impressions I had received in Air I came to the

conclusion that the installation of the first Sultan could be assigned

to the beginning of the fifteenth century A.D., or, in other words,

to a period prior to the capture of Constantinople by the Moslems. In

the course of some research on the subject I discovered that 1420

A.D. had been suggested by one authority on the evidence of tradition,

while the Agades Chronicle, independently of all this evidence, had

recorded that the first Sultan, Yunis,[89] ascended the throne in 809

A.H., or about 1406 A.D.[90] The important thing in any case is that,

if the story of his choice has any historical foundation whatsoever,

it must be referred to a period when Christian emperors were still

ruling in Constantinople. It is therefore all the more interesting

to learn that the first Sultan was called Yunis, which means John,

and that the wife of the first Sultan, a noble girl said to have been

given to him in marriage by the Kel Ferwan tribe, was called Ibuzahil

or Izubahil, a name bearing a curious resemblance to Isabel. It is a

fitting name for the companion of John, the man from the distant land.

If a deputation went to the Mediterranean at all, it was natural at

this period that it should go to Constantinople, still regarded as

the capital of nations, with which no other city in the fifteenth

century could compare for civilisation or splendour. But we shall

probably never know whether a Byzantine prince came to Air in 1406

A.D. or whether the names and legend of John and Isabel are only

coincidence. Yunis is described as the son of Tahanazeta, and I must

leave for others to discover Byzantine resemblances to this name. For

the name of one of his successors, Aliso, I suggest Louis may have

been our equivalent, and regarding the latter’s brother, Amati,

who followed, comment is hardly necessary.

Yunis reigned twenty years and was succeeded by Akasani,[91] who was

the son of Yunis’s sister. Elsewhere El Haj Ebesan or Abeshan,

a son of Yunis, and his son, El Haj Muhammad ben Ebesan, are said

to have reigned respectively as second and third Sultans, but this

is not substantiated by the Agades Chronicle, which mentions El

Haj Ebesan only as the grandfather of the sixteenth Sultan, Yusif,

who came to the throne about 1594. From this record there appear to

have been some forty rulers, several of whom reigned more than once,

but there are certain gaps in the series.[92]

After the very first ruler the reigning family divided into two

branches, which keep on reappearing, many of the Sultans of one being

deposed by powerful tribes like the Itesan in favour of candidates of

the other line. The family of El Guddala or Ghodala figures prominently

with several notable rulers like Muhammad Hammad, who was known as

the Father of his People. From such records as are available I have

tried to recover the genealogy of this stock; but the Agades Chronicle

is neither accurate nor complete;[93] although it is almost the only

detailed information which we possess for the present. One noteworthy

fact accords well with Ibn Batutah’s observations and with certain

matriarchal survivals which will be referred to in detail hereafter:

there are repeated instances of descent being traced through the

female line. Nevertheless, this was not an essential condition. The

ruler to this day is elected by the same tribes originally responsible

for the elevation of Yunis to the throne: he must be drawn from one of

the two branches of the original family, and his heir, subject to due

and proper election, is normally considered to be his sister’s son.

Being the son of a concubine or slave, the king, according to the

rules of descent of all the Tuareg, was himself of slave caste,

nor could he ever achieve the distinction of being ranked among

the nobles. As it is the law among the People of the Veil that

the child must follow the caste of the mother and not the father,

whatever the latter’s claims, only the offspring of a noble Tuareg

woman can be noble. In all other matrimonial combinations the child

must be a serf or slave. A slight distinction is sometimes drawn

if only the mother is inferior, but it has the effect, at the most,

of creating a mixed caste, without admitting the possibility of the

child becoming a noble. When the problem arose of finding a wife

for the first ruler who had been selected by the Khalif, despite the

pre-eminence of his sponsor, tradition prevailed, that he was to be

given a slave woman for wife. The arrangement had the advantage of

perpetuating the status of the original Amenokal, since his children

perforce had to continue in the inferior caste. For political reasons

certain exceptions seem to have been made, and the Amenokal, though

a serf, was also allowed to marry a noble woman, but in that case

her children were not eligible. The marriage of John and Isabel—if

she came from the noble Kel Ferwan, and not from Constantinople, as

I suspect—may be an instance of such political dispensation. The

restriction of the choice of the Amenokal to one of the two branches

of the original family, and the force of tradition in regard to his

descent, have resulted in the apparent paradox that in order to be

Sultan of Agades the candidate has to be a slave. These considerations

duly influenced the choice of the present Amenokal, Omar.

Insignificant as his power nominally is, and unimportant as the office

may practically be, many of the traditional stories which purport

to explain the circumstances attending the Sultan’s elevation to

the throne are probably fanciful. They may be accepted but still be

fictions in the legal sense. Unless or until Byzantine researches can

come to our assistance, the logical explanation, if there is one, must

be sought. Shorn of romance, what appears most likely to have happened

is that the Tuareg of Air at a certain stage were unable to reach

any agreement regarding the selection of a head of the State. They

were divided up into groups which their piecemeal immigration had

accentuated. But the necessities of trade and caravan traffic made

it essential for the common weal to have some sovereign or head,

even if he were only a nominal ruler, to maintain foreign relations

and transact political business on behalf of the inhabitants of Air

generally with the Emirates and Empires of the Sudan. Since none of

the principal tribes was willing to forgo the privilege of providing

the ruler, the expedient was hit upon of appointing a man whose status

would never conflict with the authority of the tribal chiefs within

the borders of the country, but who could still be delegated to speak

for the whole community with the rulers of the Southland. With all

the jealousy that exists among the tribes on the question of relative

nobility or antiquity, the only people fulfilling the essentials were

of servile caste. The choice of such a man was nevertheless possible

among the Tuareg, for neither “imghad” nor slaves are despised

or regarded as mere animals. This, I think, is the only explanation

of the usage which obtains, that whatever may be the caste of the

Amenokal’s children, only the servile ones are eligible. Although

the family of the Sultan may include noble persons, it is, as a whole,

a servile group in both its branches; it seems that Barth is mistaken

in regarding the group as noble. The family may, as he says, be called

“Sherrifa,” but probably only on account of its reputed origin. It

is not considered any the more noble in the Tuareg sense of the word

for all that.[94]

This does not exclude the possibility of the Constantinople Embassy

being true, but the explanation I have given of the slave kings of Air

seems to be sufficient on its own merits and also reasonable. Every

factor in the situation points to the care which was taken to eliminate

all possible chances of dispute; even the relegation of the choice to

one servile family singled out for the purpose would tend to diminish

friction. On the whole the procedure may be said to provide a rational

if cynical solution of what has always been a difficult problem in all

countries.[95] Inasmuch as the explanation also serves to elucidate

a number of other problems, it may be said to receive confirmation.

Thus, the principal Minister or Vizir of the Amenokal is the Sariki

n’Turawa,[96] a Hausa term meaning the “Chief of the White

People.” The White People are the Arab traders from the north, who

themselves call this official the “Sheikh el Arab.” His functions

are those of Minister for Foreign Affairs:[97] his duties are to

regulate the foreign community of Agades and settle all questions of

trade with the outside world. Though originally appointed to deal

with the Arabs of the north, he came eventually to have more to do

with the Southland. He used to collect the duties on merchandise in

Agades and accompany the salt caravans to Bilma, a service for which

he received an eighth part of an average camel load of salt. After the

salt caravan returned, the Sariki n’Turawa proceeded south with the

camels returning to Sokoto, and then went on to Kano. The latter part

of his journey had already been discontinued in 1850, but he still

accompanies the salt caravan as the representative of the Sultan

and nominal leader of the enterprise. In addition to these duties

involving foreign relations, he is the Amenokal’s chief adviser and

“Master of the Interior of the Palace,” with the Songhai name of

“Kokoi Geregeri.” He is also known as the “Wakili” or Chief

Agent of the king. The reason for the Chief Minister in Agades being

also Minister for Foreign Affairs needs no further comment after what

has been said of the Sultan himself and his _raison d’être_.

Other officials and courtiers round the Amenokal include the Sariki

n’Kaswa, or Chief of the Market Place, who collects the market

dues and supervises the prices of commodities. There are, besides,

police officials or policemen who are also the executioners, and a

number of persons called after the class from whom they are chosen, the

“magadeza.” The word seems to be a corruption of “Emagadezi,”

meaning People of Agades, but has acquired a more restricted meaning,

and is commonly applied to a number of rather fat men who are reputed

to be the posterity of the attendants of the first Yunis who came

from Constantinople.[98]

By virtue of his own position the Amenokal enjoys very little

authority. He is used as an arbitrator and Judge of Appeal. In

cases where the disputants are both from the same group of clans

their quarrel would normally be referred to the head of their

aggregation, except amongst the Kel Owi, over whom the Añastafidet

is the administrative authority, or court of the second instance;

in minor matters the tribal chief can, of course, decide on his own

initiative. But in disputes between persons of different tribes who

cannot agree on the finding of the chief of either of their factions,

the case may be referred to the Sultan, on whose behalf the Kadhi

renders judgment. Such functions as the Sultan performs are executed

with the consent of the governed. Although all serious cases might

be referred to him in theory, in practice his authority has never

run in local tribal affairs. He has a common gaol for criminals,

used in the first instance for those of the city, but also for such

as cannot be satisfactorily punished under the tribal arrangements

of a nomadic and semi-nomadic people. There were cases when chiefs

of tribes might be, and were, imprisoned at Agades, but then it was

because the power behind the throne had so desired it. The Sultan

apparently at one time also had a dungeon with swords and spears fixed

upright in the floor upon which criminal malefactors were thrown;

but already in 1850 it was rarely used.

It cannot be too carefully emphasised that the rule of the Sultan as

the elected head of the State of Agades was founded upon the consent

of the governed. He is the figure-head of the community and performs

the same useful duties which so many heads of more civilised States

undertake. The Tuareg have probably never had occasion to discuss

the social contract, and the works of J. S. Mill or Rousseau are not

current in Air, but nowhere are these theories of government more

meticulously carried into effect or do they assume the practical form

which they have often lacked in Europe. With all their aristocratic

traditions of caste and breeding, the Tuareg have never favoured an

established or hereditary autocracy. The government they prefer seems

to be a democratic monarchy. Their king is a slave elected by the

representatives of certain, at one time doubtless the most important,

tribes; he exists and carries out certain functions because the mass

of the people desire it so. Authority is not inherited, and even men of

inferior caste may become chieftains. The evolution of society has also

inevitably rendered the king dependent for support upon the principal

men of the country, and the latter upon the smaller chieftains. Where

there is much rivalry or where the ruler is weaker than usual the

frequent changes and inconsistency inherent in democratic government

ensue. Equally the ascendancy of one man’s personality independently

of his position may override the voice of the people, but in the

absence of organisation or bureaucracy the conditioning factor is

efficiency and competence. Tribal leaders are selected because they

can lead; when they cease to lead they are deposed.

The unenviable position of the king and his dependence on the influence

of the chiefs seem consequently to have been the same throughout the

ages. Leo[99] refers to the practice of deposing one king and electing

another from the same family who was more acceptable. Bello on the

subject has also already been quoted. We have just seen how often and

why Osman Mikitan and Brahim changed places. Barth recounts how in

his day Abd el Qader was completely in the hands of the Kel Owi, who

were represented by the dominant personality of their paramount chief,

Annur. His own tribe was not even, as a matter of fact, among those

responsible for the selection of the Sultan, but his personality

was such that the Amenokal, at his request, or with his support,

felt himself strong enough to imprison three turbulent chiefs of

the Itesan who were stirring up the people in Agades in favour of

a pretender. Yet the Itesan, a tribe of the southern Kel Geres,

are the foremost of the tribes responsible for the Sultan’s very

election and his maintenance in power. Without Annur’s support,

Abd el Qader was powerless.

[Illustration: OMAR: AMENOKAL OF AIR]

I think that the persistence of tradition shows how essential the

method devised for choosing the head of the community was, and is

still considered to be among the Air Tuareg. Even to-day the Itesan

retain their predominant voice in the election, though they live in the

Sudan and are in part within the border of the country administered by

the British Government, and though their king is in French territory

hundreds of miles away. They were the deciding factor in the election,

after the death of Tegama,[100] of Omar from the collateral branch

which lives with them.

Only in rare cases was the Amenokal a leader in war. Muhammad Hammad is

an instance in point, but it is clear he was an exceptional man. When

raids had taken place or were threatening in such a manner as to affect

the people of Air indiscriminately, or where individual tribes might

not consider themselves sufficiently involved to occasion reprisals,

the Sultan used to lead a counter-raid recruited from several clans

and provisioned according to his direction from those groups most

capable of supplying the needs. In no case could a Sultan lead a

raid against an Air tribe, whether in the north or in the south,

unless he had definitely thrown in his lot with a local intrigue,

which theoretically would, and usually did, entail his eventual

deposition. Within Air the Sultan was neutral, or as we should say

“constitutional.” He could only take the field against people like

the Aulimmiden of the west, or the Tebu of the east, or the Ahaggaren

of the north beyond the borders of his country. As a general rule,

however, leading in war was the task of tribal chieftains and not of

the king.

The Amenokal does not seem to have had a fixed revenue. He lived

principally on the presents given to him by the tribes on the occasion

of his accession, and more especially by those tribes which owe

allegiance directly to himself. He was entitled to collect a tax on

foreign merchandise entering the city and a tithe from certain servile

tribes in the southern parts of Air.[101] In addition he had certain

perquisites in the shape of judicial fines imposed on individuals

and tribes, and a revenue from legitimate trading with Bilma during

the great salt caravans.

In considering the history of Agades one cannot fail to be struck by

the peculiarity of the site.

Elsewhere in North Africa, where any of the great caravan roads

pass through areas of fertility which break up the journeys into

sections, towns and cities, in some cases of considerable magnitude,

have grown up. Where these settlements are near the margin of belts

of permanent sedentary inhabitation, they play the part of termini

or ports for the trans-desert traffic. They have become markets

and the seats of the transport and produce brokers, a development

which has its parallels in Arabia and Central Asia. There are many

instances in Northern Africa of such terminal points becoming large

and important centres: some of the more active of these “ports,”

as they may be called, in the north are Sijilmasa, Wargla, Ghadames,

Tripoli, Orfella and Benghazi. Corresponding with them at the southern

end of the various roads are Timbuctoo, Gao, Sokoto, Katsina and

Kano.[102] In addition to that there are also the true Cities of

the Desert. They have arisen in places where caravans can call a

halt to rest and replenish food supplies, where water is plentiful,

and sometimes also, where these requisites are present, at the

intersection of important routes. These settlements are like island

coaling stations in maritime navigation, but they are not termini;

they are particularly interesting ethnologically, for they often

mark the ends of stages where the transport of merchandise changes

hands. At these points one tribe or race hands over its charge to

another group of people. They are thus entrepôts where goods are

discharged and reshipped—not markets, but broking centres where

the transport contractors and merchants who live at either end of the

routes have their agents. A money market often develops, but the local

trade is small, for it is confined to the requirements of the place

and immediate neighbourhood. At all costs, either by means of a strong

local government or by mutual consent, tribes which elsewhere may be

at war with one another must be compelled to meet in peace to pursue

their lawful occasions. The essentials for the growth of such centres

are invariably the presence of water, pasture and, to a lesser extent,

food. Where these factors can be obtained at one definite point only,

the centre is fixed, whereas if there are several places all more or

less equally convenient for the traffic, the settlement has a tendency

to move under the influence of political changes. In Tuggurt, Laghuat

and Ghat may be found instances where the centre has been unable to

shift on account of geographical conditions; but in the Tuat-Tidikelt

area the most important town of In Salah has had many rivals, which

have prevented it acquiring the same compactness or prominence as,

for instance, the city of Ghat. At the latter place a large permanent

water supply in an arid country practically limited the choice

of sites to one spot. A commercial city of paramount importance,

if of no great size, sprang up in the earliest times and continued

uninfluenced by political vicissitudes. As an entrepôt of commerce

where there was peace at all times among the local population, where

feuds and racial hostility were set aside within its precincts, where

free trade was the oldest tradition and where an efficient municipal

organisation did not seek to extend its influence far beyond the walls,

Ghat developed a government similar to that of an autonomous Hanseatic

town. Ghat is the most interesting of all the cities of the desert,

but the decline of caravan trade has brought ruin to its people and

war among the tribes, which no longer have the material incentive of

trade to refrain from fighting.

On the eastern of the two central roads across the Sahara there is

a stage where one would expect to find a town like Ghat, for to the

south on both these routes there is a tract of desert to be crossed

before reaching Kawar or Air respectively. But in the Eastern Fezzan

the choice of locality was not restricted by geographical and economic

considerations, and Murzuk, as the counterpart in modern times of

Ghat, has consequently not always been the most important centre of

the area. In early classical times Garama, now known as Jerma, some

sixty miles to the north of Murzuk, was the capital of the Garamantian

kingdom. When Jerma was destroyed by the Arabs in the seventh century,

Zuila, probably the Cillala of the Romans, became the capital of the

Eastern Fezzan, maintaining its supremacy even after conquest by the

Beni Khattab in the tenth century. When in the fourteenth century the

Fezzan was overrun by the people of Kanem the capital again moved,

this time to Traghen.

Air is the next stage on the road to the Sudan after crossing the

desert to the south of Ghat. The requisites of water, pasture and

food are found all over this vast oasis; the principal settlement

might therefore be presumed to have changed its site under the

influence of politics, and in a great measure this has happened,

but the largest settlement in the country, the City of Agades, is

comparatively modern and appears to owe its existence to political

rather than to economic reasons.

Standing on the north side of the valley which is named after it,

Agades is in one sense a City of the Desert, since it lies on the edge

of a Saharan oasis. In so far as it is a true desert city at all, it

is the greatest of them, but, as we shall see, it has not quite the

same characteristics as its smaller rivals. Ghat, before the war, was

said to number less than 4000 people, but may have attained double this

figure at one time; the population of Murzuk was variously estimated

at 2800 by Barth and at 6500 by Nachtigal; Ghadames is believed

to have a population of about 7000. But Agades in the days of its

prosperity must have contained not less than 30,000 inhabitants.[103]

By 1850 the population had fallen to about 7000; ten years ago the

number was estimated at 10,000. To-day there are not 3000 people in

the half-ruined city, but the numbers are again increasing since the

efflux of population after the 1917 revolution. These astonishing

variations in population are a normal feature of desert cities,

even as they are of harbours and seaport towns where the places

are entirely dependent on conditions of trade, which is affected by

political change; in the Sahara the mode of life of the surrounding

nomads makes these fluctuations even more conspicuous.

None of the considerations governing the site of other desert cities

applies to Agades. It lies on the southernmost foothills of the Air

mountains, and in the history of the country there has never been any

danger of invasion except from the south. Some of the Tuareg, it is

true, gradually penetrated Air from the north, and pushed south by the

progressive occupation of the northern mountains, which the original

population may not have been sufficiently interested or numerous to

occupy and defend. Small raiding parties can always enter the country,

but it is certain that with even inconspicuous opposing forces the

success of an invading army approaching Air from any direction except

the south is out of the question, owing to the difficulties of moving

large bodies of men over the appalling desert which separates the

plateau from Ahaggar or the Fezzan. The same conditions obtain in

the east, and to a great extent in the west also. On the south only

is the position rather different. The steppe desert between Air and

Damergu is neither so waterless nor so pastureless nor so deep as to

preclude military operations from that direction. In point of fact Air

was invaded on at least one occasion from that side with conspicuous

success.[104] It is therefore anomalous that the capital of the country

should have been located on the fringe of the mountains, where every

road is defensible, in possibly the most vulnerable position which

could have been chosen.

Nor is the explanation to be found in such economic necessity as has

dictated the choice of site in other examples of desert cities. Agades

is some distance from the great north-south road which runs, and always

has run, east of the Central massif of Air, leaving the country on

its way to the Sudan at the water of Eghalgawen or Tergulawen. An

alternative route to the Sokoto area branching off the main road in

Northern Air and descending by the Talak plain and In Gall passes some

distance west of the city. No caravan road suitable for heavily-laden

camels passes through Agades for the north, owing to the barrier of

the Central massifs, through which the tracks are difficult even for

mountain-bred camels. The old pilgrim road from Timbuctoo to Cairo

enters the western side of the Air plateau at In Gall or further north,

and passes to Iferuan and so to Ghat without touching Agades. Ibn

Batutah’s route shows that this was so in his day, as it certainly

has been the case since then. Caravans from the south crossing the

Eastern Desert for Bilma pass across Azawagh to the eastern fringes

of Air without going to Agades, which would involve a detour, as was

explained in referring to the importance of the well of Masalet.[105]

While the trade routes of the country do not, therefore, provide

an adequate justification for the choice of the site, climatic or

geographic conditions have equally little bearing, for there are a

number of points in Air where the pasture is good and where there is

sufficient water to supply the needs of a large settlement. At Agades,

as a matter of fact, the water is indifferent; while the surrounding

gravelly plain, like the rest of the valley, is only covered with

scanty vegetation, the neighbouring Telwa valley contains some

pastures, but they are not abundant, and camels in the service of

the local merchants have to be sent to feed as much as three or four

days distant.

If the conditions which had led to the growth of a city in Air had

been of a purely economic order, it might have been anticipated that

it would have occupied the site of Iferuan, the first point south of

Ghat where a permanent settlement with plentiful water, pasture and

land fit for cultivation was possible. So convenient is the Iferuan

valley that caravans, in fact, usually do rest there for long periods

to allow both men and animals to recuperate after the difficult stage

to the north has been negotiated. Or, again, a city might have stood

at the eastern end of the River of Agades at the north end of the

stage across the Azawagh, although this position would have been less

dictated by necessity than the first alternative, since the steppe

desert of the south cannot be compared for hardship with the northern

waste. It would nevertheless have been convenient, if somewhat exposed

to raiding parties, as a point for the concentration of caravans

crossing the Eastern Desert to Bilma, or in other words at the

branching of the Salt Road and the north-south route. On its present

site, Agades is out of the way for travellers from any direction who

may be bound beyond the city. Some other explanation must then be

found, and it occurred to me only when I had reached the city itself.

The fact of the matter is that Agades is not the capital of Air

at all. As we have seen, the city is not the seat of the central

government because there is no real central government, and the King

who lives there is not really King at all. Agades is only the seat of

an administration set up in the first instance to deal with exterior

affairs, and more especially those connected with the Southland. These

affairs were in the charge of a figure-head ruler unconnected, except

to a very minor degree, with the internal problems of the Tuareg

tribes. When this is once grasped, Agades assumes a different position

in the perspective of history and it becomes apparent that the site is

really suited to the purpose for which it was intended. The place where

the city lies is neutral as far as the tribes of Air are concerned;

it has easy access to the Sudan yet is removed from the main roads,

which are considered the property of certain groups of clans. But it

follows that the character of the city must inevitably partake rather

of the south than of the Sahara.

Finally, there is the most conclusive evidence of all; during the

early part of the Tuareg occupation of Air, there was no city of

Agades at all; it fulfilled no need despite the caravan traffic. It

was presumably not founded when Ibn Batutah travelled through Air, for

he makes no mention of the name; although this is negative evidence,

it is valuable in the case of so observant a traveller. By 1515, when

Askia conquered the Tuareg of Air, Agades, however, was certainly

in existence, since it is on record that he occupied the city for

a year, “sitting down north of the town,” possibly at T’in

Shaman. Marmol, moreover, is quite definite on the subject, saying

that the city was founded 160 years before he wrote, a date which

has been reckoned at 1460 A.D.[106] We know that the first Sultans

of Air did not live at Agades, but by inference it may be supposed

that they soon came to do so, so that the date suggested is probably

correct. With the advent of a figure-head king there sprang up a

figure-head capital. The story of Agades is the story of its kings:

the explanation of both is similar.

What seems to have struck Barth most about Agades was that the people

spoke Songhai and not Temajegh; it was, in fact, one of the few places

left where the language of the greatest Empire of the Niger still

survived. There is reason to believe that most of the Emagadezi are not

of Tuareg race at all. The Songhai element is probably preponderant

even now, four hundred years after the conquest of Agades by the

Songhai king, Muhammad Askia, who planted a colony there. The face

veil has been adopted universally, but the physical type of the

inhabitants is much more akin to that of people of the south than to

that of true Tuareg. The descendants of the Songhai conquerors are

coarse, broad-featured people with dark skins and untidy hair, which

is an abomination among the noble Tuareg. The same characteristics

reappear among the inhabitants of certain points west of Agades on

the south-western outskirts of Air, where the Songhai element is also

known to have become established and to have survived. The people of

Agades are hardly even considered as natives of the country by the

rest of the inhabitants of Air. They are not classed as a group,

like the inhabitants of other settlements in the mountains. It is

rarer to hear the “Kel Agades” mentioned than it is to hear such

exotic compositions as “Kel es Sudan” or “Kel Katchena.” The

people of Agades are more usually spoken of as the “Emagadezi,”

in much the same way as the Kanuri in the Air dialect are called

“Izghan” and the Tebu “Ikaradan.”

The family of the Sultan is foreign in appearance. The physiognomy of

Abd el Qader, who wore the white face veil usually associated in the

north with servile caste, was not, as far as could be seen by Barth,

that of a Tuareg. His corpulence was equally a foreign peculiarity,

despite which Barth considered him “a man of great worth though

devoid of energy.” The personality of the present Sultan, Omar,

has already been described; his dark skin and coarse features betray a

very mixed ancestry. These peculiarities are not unexpected in a family

descended through slave women, who may, of course, be of any race.

The different races and languages of Agades would be interesting to

study in greater detail. The name Terjeman, given to one quarter of the

town, is evidence in the estimation of its inhabitants of the Babel

which has occurred. Temajegh, Hausa, Kanuri, Songhai and Arabic are

spoken; even the more exceptional Fulani, Wolof and Tebu are heard,

while the advent of the French garrison with its negro troops has

introduced further linguistic complications, and will, of course,

in time accentuate the Sudanese element in the racial composition,

for at no time do the morals of the ladies of Agades appear to have

been beyond reproach. The consequences of city life are felt even

here in the Sahara. The forwardness of the ladies so moved Barth

to indignation that he discoursed at considerable length on the

standards of conduct which should be observed by Europeans in these

far countries towards native women. He no doubt owed much of his

success to the respect in which he held the feelings of the people

among whom he travelled. Rather than provoke criticism, he recommends

explorers to take their own wives with them. A few pages further on,

describing his journey through the Azawagh, he is again referring

to advances of the Tuareg women of the Tegama. One appreciates his

resentment at these importunities, but is inclined to speculate on the

true inwardness of his thoughts. On one occasion at least his artistic

feelings rather than his sense of propriety seem to have been offended,

for he writes: “It could scarcely be taken as a joke. Some of the

women were immensely fat, particularly in the hinder regions, for which

the Tawarek have a peculiar and expressive name—‘tebulloden.’”

[Footnote 75: Cf. Barth, _op. cit._, Vol. I. p. 523.]

[Footnote 76: Literally “a small river or torrent” in Temajegh.]

[Footnote 77: Cf. Barth, _op. cit._, Vol. I. p. 454.]

[Footnote 78: This generalisation is not intended to cover exceptional

examples of stone construction such as those in Sokoto Province.]

[Footnote 79: For the houses of Air see Chap. VIII, where

characteristic plans are given.]

[Footnote 80: Barth, _op. cit._, Vol. I. p. 477.]

[Footnote 81: According to Barth, _op. cit._, Vol. I. p. 451; but

the minaret was built in 1847, according to the Agades Chronicle

(_Journal of the African Society_, July 1910).]

[Footnote 82: This is the one to which Chudeau (_Missions au Sahara_,

Vol. II, _Le Sahara Soudanais_, p. 64) refers as 980 years old

according to tradition, presumably basing himself on the same

information as Jean, _op. cit._, p. 86. The date is improbable,

as Agades was not founded at that time.]

[Footnote 83: Cf. Leo Africanus, Vol. III. Bk. VII. p. 829: “The king

of this citie hath alwaies a noble garde about him.” Cf. Plate 11.]

[Footnote 84: Leo Africanus, Vol. III. Bk. VII. p. 829.]

[Footnote 85: Denham and Clapperton, Vol. II. p. 397.]

[Footnote 86: The same procedure is indicated in the Agades Chronicle,

which also states that the Kel Owi give him an ox (_Journal of the

African Society_, _loc. cit._)]

[Footnote 87: Barth, _op. cit._, Vol. I. p. 422.]

[Footnote 88: Jean, _op. cit._, p. 89.]

[Footnote 89: Isuf or Yusuf according to Jean, who is certainly

wrong in this respect. _Op. cit._, p. 89. Chudeau, _op. cit._, p. 70,

gives his name as Yunis, as did my informants in Air.]

[Footnote 90: The date of the founding of Agades is a measure of

confirmation: _vide infra_, Chap. XI.]

[Footnote 91: The second Sultan is given by Chudeau, _op. cit._,

p. 64, as Almubari (El Mubaraki): a ruler of this name succeeded a

Yusif whom he deposed in 1601; some confusion has probably arisen

on account of Jean’s error in supposing that the first Sultan was

called Yusuf instead of Yunis.]

[Footnote 92: See Appendix VI.]

[Footnote 93: See table in Appendix VI.]

[Footnote 94: Cf. Barth, _op. cit._, Vol. I. p. 468.]

[Footnote 95: See also the remarks made in Chap. XII regarding the

tribes which elected the Sultan.]

[Footnote 96: For the explanation of the sense which these words have

acquired, see second footnote, Barth, _op. cit._, Vol. I. p. 471.]

[Footnote 97: The Tuareg have forestalled many European Powers in

making their Prime Minister also Secretary of State for Foreign

Affairs.]

[Footnote 98: Jean, _op. cit._, p. 89.]

[Footnote 99: Leo Africanus, Vol. III. Bk. VII. p. 829.]

[Footnote 100: The influence of the Emir of Sokoto to which Barth has

referred is exercised through the Itesan by virtue of their domicile

near this city. Cf. Barth, _op. cit._, Vol. I. p. 468.]

[Footnote 101: Cf. Leo Africanus, Vol. III. p. 829.]

[Footnote 102: Cf. map in Chap II.]

[Footnote 103: My estimate of 30,000 inhabitants was arrived at

locally without any books of reference. On my return I found that

Barth had arrived at the same figure, with a possible maximum of 50,000

(_op. cit._, Vol. I. p. 472).]

[Footnote 104: The French operations of 1918 against Air, the

occupation of the country from the south in 1904 and the passage of

the Foureau-Lamy expedition are not considered, as the superiority

of European weapons makes it impossible to compare these exploits

with native enterprises, though the success of the first two and

the appalling losses in camels and material of the last in a measure

confirm the thesis.]

[Footnote 105: _Vide supra_, Chap. II.]

[Footnote 106: By Barth, _op. cit._, Vol. I. p. 459, and by Cooley,

_Negroland of the Arabs_, p. 26, as 1438 A.D.]