CHAPTER II.

MOMBASAH OR MVÍTA.[2]

‘Est autem urbs illa sita intra sinum quemdam in rupe præcelsâ et editâ.

Fluctus cùm se ab introitu sinus incitant, in adversam frontem urbis

incurrunt. Inde deducti introrsus penetrant et utrumque latus urbis

alluunt ita, ut peninsulam efficiunt.’—OSORIO, describing Mombasah.

From early ages the people of this inhospitable coast left untried

neither force nor fraud, neither secret treachery nor open hostility, to

hinder and deter Europeans from exploration. Bribed by the white and

black ‘Moors’—Arab and Wasawahili—then as now monopolists of the

interior trade, Vasco da Gama’s pilots attempted to wreck his ships. In

later years the Banyans, becoming the chief merchants of this coast,

excited against travellers the half-caste maritime races, as usual the

worst specimens of the population; these in turn worked upon their

neighbours, the sanguinary savages of the interior, who, in addition to

a natural fear of everything new, cherish old traditions of the white

man’s piracy and kidnapping. In 1826 the brig Mary Anne was assaulted

near Berberah and her crew was massacred by the Somal at the

instigation, according to Lieut. Wellsted (Travels in Arabia, chap.

xviii.), of the Banyans, who certainly withheld all information by which

the attack could have been prevented or repelled. In 1844 a combination,

secretly headed by Jayaram, the Collector of Customs at Zanzibar, so

effectually opposed Lieut.-Colonel Hamerton that, unable to hire a

vessel on the Island, he crossed over to the Continent in a launch

borrowed from the Sayyid and manned by his own boat’s crew. Now,

however, the increased number and power of the European houses, the

greater facility of communication, the presence of our ships in these

ports, and the more settled state of the Dominion, have convinced Arabs,

Banyans, and Wasawahili, that it is vain to kick against the pricks in

European shape. Yet they yield unwillingly, knowing that exploration

will presently divert their monopoly into other channels, and, quoting

the Riwayat or rhymed prophecy, that sovereignty shall depart from them

when the Franks’ first footstep shall have defiled the soil. Even in our

time (1857) travellers should consider the countenance of the Sayyid’s

government a sine quâ non, and unless marching in great force or

prepared for universal bakhshish, they should never make their

starting-point any port distant from head-quarters.

The town of Mombasah, still called ‘Mwita,’ meaning fight or battle, is

mentioned in A.D. 1331 by the Shaykh Ibn Batuta, as a large place

abounding in fruits, and peopled by a ‘chaste, honest, and religious

race.’ Two centuries afterwards the site is thus described by the Colto

e buon Luigi—as Camoens was termed by the amiable Tasso.

The isle before them stood so near the land,

that narrow was the strait which lay between;

a city situate upon the strand

was on the seaboard frontage to be seen:

with noble edifices fairly planned

as from the offing showed afar the scene;

ruled by a king for years full many famed,

the isle and city were Mombasah named.[3]

In João de Barros and others we read attractive details of beautiful

gardens, lofty towers, a harbour full of ships; of handsome men and of

honourable women habited in silk robes and adorned with gold and jewels;

of the ‘knights of Mombasah,’ which now can hardly show a head of horse,

and of the ‘ladies of Melinde,’ where the plundering Gallas have left

only heaps of ruins. The King, ‘for years full many famed,’ received his

first Portuguese visitors with peculiar empressement, and with the

kindly purpose of cutting Vasco da Gama’s throat, enticed him to land by

promises to furnish wax, wheat, ambergris, ivory, and precious

metals,[4] and by sending samples of spicery—pepper, ginger, and

cloves—apparently all imports, as Calicut Banyans and Christians of St

Thomas were upon the spot. But when the great Captain’s ship weighed

anchor to enter the port, she struck upon a shoal probably at the

southern end of the channel formed by ‘Leven Reef Head’ and the

mainland: the ‘Moors’ tumbled into their canoes, the Mozambique pilot

took a header from the stern, and an ugly plot stood forth in its

nakedness. To make certain, Da Gama of the ‘awful eyes’ extracted the

truth from his Moslem captives by ‘heating lard and dropping it upon

their flesh:’ unable, however, to revenge himself, he set sail for

Melinde.

And here we may explain how arose the contempt and hatred which the

coast has attached to the word Faranj, or Feringhee. The Orient became

acquainted with Europe at a time when the Portuguese were slavers and

robbers in the Lord’s name, when the Dutch were second-rate traders, and

when the English were rank ‘saltwater thieves.’ Vasco da Gama did not

hesitate to massacre all his prisoners, or to decorate his yard-arms

with wretches suspended like the captives of ‘Sallie rovers.’

Albuquerque’s soldiers hewed off the hands and feet of women and

children, the quicker to secure their rings and armlets. Torture and

cruel death, especially wholesale burning, fell to the lot of Moslems

and Pagans. In the seventeenth century even the commanders of the Hon.

East India Company’s ships, according to Della Valle, committed

robberies ashore and on the high seas: The ‘Grand Mogul’ regarded our

people as a race ‘of dissolute morals and degraded religion’—tetræ

belluæ, suis molossis ferociores.

In A.D. 1500 Mombasah yielded to D. Alvarez Cabral, and, three years

afterwards, the Captain Ravasco settled its tribute. On August 13,

1505—events succeeded one another rapidly in those brave old times—D.

Francisco de Almeyda, the first viceroy of Portuguese India, who had

been gravely insulted by the turbulent citizens, attacked with his 20

ships, captured and burnt it. The Sultan was admitted to the honours of

vassalship and tribute; stringent regulations were made, and the

conquest having been placed in the first of the three provinces of

Ethiopia and Arabia, with Mozambique as the general capital, the

government was confided by the king, in A.D. 1508, to D. Duarte de

Lemos. In 1516 Mombasah is described by Duarte Barbosa as a well-built,

wealthy, and flourishing place, which exported honey, wax, and ivory. It

was again attacked by D. Nuno da Cunha, who was bent upon avenging the

insults offered to his allies, the chiefs of Zanzibar, Melinde, and

Atondo. The Sultan defended himself stoutly, introduced into the city

5000 black archers, and armed a fort with cannon taken from Portuguese

ships: the women and children were sent to the mainland, and a system of

sorties and surprises was organized, which protracted the affair from

November 14 to March 3, 1529. At length D. Nuno, after destroying the

houses and cutting down the palm trees, set fire to the place, and burnt

it to the ground. These active measures secured peace for some years. In

1586 the Turkish corsair, Ali Bey, persuaded Mombasah to place itself,

like Makdishu, Ampaza, Lamu, Kelifi, and Brava, under the Sultan of

Stambul. D. Duarte de Menezes, viceroy of India, sent from Goa a fleet

of 18 ships, under Martim Affonso de Melo Bombeyro, who revenged the

insult by burning Mombasah the third time.

Tradition asserts, contrary to received opinion, that the Conquistadores

penetrated far into the interior, and common sense suggests that

soldiers so adventurous would not confine themselves to the seaboard.

The Wasawahili speak of a ruined castle on Njuira, a hill north of the

Pangani river, and placed by M. Rebmann 160 miles from the ocean. At

Chaga, a district west of Mombasah, whose apex is the well-known and

much-vexed Kilima-njaro or Kilima-ngao, stone walls, a breastwork for

cannon, and an image of a long-haired woman seated upon a chair and

holding a child, are reported still to remain. The Wanyika, or ‘Desert

people’ of the Mombasah Range, have preserved in their Kayas, or

strongholds near Rabai Mku, certain images which they declare came from

the west. According to Dr Krapf, these statuettes, called Kisukas, or

little devils, are carried in war processions to encourage the

combatants. No European has ever seen this ‘great medicine,’ nor has any

Chief ever dared even to propose showing them to the mission: whenever a

European evinced more pertinacity than was pleasing, he found the bushes

upon his path bristling with bow and spear, and capped by the woolly

mops of the sable Roderick Dhu’s clansmen.

‘And every tuft of broom gave life

To nigger warrior armed for strife.’

Iconolatry is unknown to these tribes, and the savages probably derived

their Kisukas from some civilized race. According to Andrew Battel, of

Leigh, the English captive at Angola (A.D. 1589), the Jagas, or

Giagas,[5] did not worship, but had small images in their towns, and a

life-sized figure of a man called Quesango. As a rule, however,

especially in the non-maritime regions, the negro’s want of

constructiveness and of plastic power prevent his being an idolater in

the literal sense of the word: he finds it more convenient to make a god

of ‘grass or palm-leaves and broken pieces of calabashes, to which

feathers of fowls are fastened by means of blood.’[6]

The important depôt was again attacked in 1589 by a savage host from the

south, called by contemporary historians, ‘Zimbas’:[7] the city was

taken by the savages; and after plunder and massacre, it was again

occupied by Thomé de Souza Coutinho. In 1592, according to the Mombasah

Chronicle, Shaho bin Misham, its last Shirazian Sultan, was succeeded by

Ahmad the Shaykh of Melinde. Two years afterwards a fort was built by

order of the Viceroy Matthias d’Albuquerque, and in 1596 D. Francisco da

Gama re-established the Portuguese rule. If we may believe the Dominican

monk João dos Santos, who was present during the war waged with the

Monomotapa about the mines of Chicova, the conduct of the European

foreigners was ‘outrageous and unreasonable,’ and it soon led to the

usual consequences. The first deadly blow against the conqueror was

struck by Yusuf bin Ahmad, alias Dom Jeronymo Chingoulia, the Nana Sahib

of the Eastern Coast. A son of Ahmad, the first Melinde Sultan of

Mombasah, he was sent at an early age to Goa, under the charge of

Augustine monks, with orders to bring him up in the true religion; he

was baptized in A.D. 1627, and, after writing a submissive letter to the

Pope, he was permitted to return home, and was imprudently promoted to

the chieftainship in August, A.D. 1630. The convert began by making

Moslems eat pork, and by similar demonstrations of zeal. When all

suspicions were laid at rest, Yusuf, no longer Jeronymo, collected 300

savages, entered the fortress in order to visit its commander, Pedro

Leitão de Gamboa; and at a given signal stabbed the latter with his own

hand, whilst his followers killed the captain’s wife and daughter,

together with the priest, who was saying mass. The surviving Portuguese

barricaded themselves for a week in the Augustine convent, but opened

the doors when the young Sultan promised to spare their lives. He at

once caused all the wretches to be arrowed, and the holy buildings to be

profaned and destroyed. Brave as he was cruel, he defended during three

months his city against a large fleet and armament sent by the Viceroy

D. Miguel de Noronha, Count of Linhares; he beat off Francisco de Moura,

and having captured two Portuguese vessels, he dismantled the citadel,

burnt the city, destroyed the trees, and escaped with his ‘Pandis’ to

Southern Arabia.

Fatal example! Mombasah thus learned that Europeans were easily

conquered. The wasted island was re-occupied by the Portuguese, and the

citadel was repaired in A.D. 1635. But after Hormuz and Maskat had

fallen into the hands of the Persians and the Arabs, the Yurabi Imam of

Oman, Sultan bin Sayf, besieged Mombasah about A.D. 1660, and, after

five years’ investment, captured only the fort. His son and successor,

Sayf bin Sultan, whose squadron was aided by the noble Arab tribe

Mazrui, and by the dependent Wasawahili, again attacked the Portuguese,

recovered the fort, massacred its defendants, and established an Arab

governor. This decisive event took place on the 9th of Jemadi el Akhir,

A. H. 1100 (December 14, 1698), a date celebrated in many a local

ballad.

I have sketched the modern history of Mombasah when chronicling that of

Zanzibar. Sayyid Said, wiser than the Portuguese, secured his conquest

by the Tarquinian operation of striking down all the tallest growth. For

our temporary protectorate Capt. Boteler is the best authority, and

since A.D. 1837 the place has no name in the annals of the coast. The

traveller, as well as merchant, must lament that we abandoned its cause;

had England retained it, the interior would long ago have been opened to

us. This lament may seem strange in the days when we propose to give up

Gibraltar, as we have given up Java, Sicily, and the Ionian

Islands—conquests hard won by blood and gold, and parted with for a

song.

The harbour of Mombasah is spacious and land-locked; without exception,

the best on the Zanzibar coast. Its magnificent basin is formed by one

of those small coralline islands which, from Suez to Cape Corrientes,

have long been the centres of commerce with peoples who, brutalized by

barbarism, and incapable of civilization, would have converted mainland

depôts into scenes of rapine and bloodshed. Of this chain the principal

links, the Tyre, the Alexandria, and the Araduses of East Africa, are

Masawah, old Zayla, Berberah—in the 16th century an islet—Makdishu,

Lamu, Wasin, ancient Mtanga, Pemba, Zanzibar, Mafiyah, the original

Kilwa, and Mozambique. The island is a mass of coralline, that forms

scarps and dwarf cliffs, 45 to 60 feet high, everywhere except on the

west, where there is a tongue of sand, and where the level ground is

covered with the fertile humus of decayed vegetation; the shape is an

irregular oval, about 3 miles long by 2½ broad, and this flat surface is

capable of growing the richest produce. The soil, excessively permeable

and bone-dry after a few hours following the heaviest downfalls, allows

neither swamp nor bog. Eastward, or outside, there is good riding-ground

defended on both sides by reefs; inside a double sea-arm moats the islet

in every direction from the coast. This channel of coral-rag and

oyster-rock, about 280 yards wide at the mouth, broadens northwards into

a deep and secure basin, Captain Owen’s[8] Port Tudor, so called from

the officer who surveyed it, and westward of the islet is Port Reitz, a

longer and a wider water. Vessels usually lie under the town opposite

English Point, where they find safe anchorage. In the South-West

monsoon, however, between May and September, square-rigged ships must be

warped out, and in so doing they run some risk of being wrecked.

On the N. West Point, where a little battery commanded the passage,

Mombasah Island is separated from the mainland by a shallow ford, and

possibly this canal may be artificial. Here I should be inclined to

place the New Fosse[9] of the Periplus, and to identify, as do Vincent

and Stuch, the Pyralaon Islands, with Pemba, Zanzibar, and Mafiyah. M.

Guillain, by a careful calculation of distances, would transfer the site

further north to the natural channel between Patta, Mandra, Lamu, and

the mainland. But whilst errors of numerals are easily made, and readily

copied in manuscripts; and whilst mistakes of distance can easily be

accounted for, it is hard to believe that the Phœnician, Egyptian, and

Greek merchants would have neglected the finest harbour and the best

site for trade upon the whole Azanian shore. Moreover, there is nothing

in the text to prevent the Pyralaon Islands being those off the Benadir,

and the Fosse being about the modern ford of Mkupa on the west of the

Island of Mombasah.

Said went on shore as the anchor ran out, and presently returned,

accompanied by Lakhmidas Thakurdas, the Banyan Collector of Customs,

with a civil message from the Jemadar, or Fort Commandant. Other

visitors were Hari, a young Bhattia, speaking English learned at

Zanzibar, and a certain Rashid bin Salim, a captain’s clerk, whose son

is commanding a Kisawahili caravan in the Ukamba-ni country. With them

we landed at a natural jetty in the N. Eastern front of the town, and

where the dents of cannon-balls mark the position of a battery. Hence we

ascended the cliff by a flight of steps in a dark dwarf tunnel, which is

a reminiscence of the English. Further to the N. West is the wharf,

constructed in 1825 by Lieut. Emery, and near it vessels generally lie.

The tunnel opens upon the Mission House, a double-storied box of coarse

masonry; the ground-floor belongs to Sayyid Said, and Shangora, the

Msawahili ‘care-taker,’ duly supplied the key. To the right and left

were other similar tenements, all more or less dilapidated, and the S.

Eastern point was occupied by a small Custom House painfully

whitewashed.

We are now in the Gavana (i. e. Governo), at present the Arab town, as

opposed to the Mji wa Kale, Harat El Kadimeh, the ‘old quarter,’ the

Black Town of the Portuguese. The site of the former is a dwarf rise at

the S. Eastern and seaward edge of the Island, and it faces to the N.

East, where over the pure blue channel orchards and verdure and wells of

pure water commend the mainland as a villeggiatura. The form of the

settlement is a parallelogram running N. West to S. East, and it was

separated from the Black Town by a wall 10 to 12 feet high. This, under

the Mazrui Shaykhs, was repaired and provided with a few bastions;

between the Gavana and the citadel, however, a defensive work was not

judged necessary, and now—an excellent sign—the rampart is rapidly

falling to ruins. Here are the tombs of the local heroes who made

Mombasah a historic name, and under a shed repose the remains of the

Mazara governors, beginning with Mohammed bin Usman. The tombs are of

masonry, and are distinguished by bearing epitaphs, which are somewhat

in the style of prayers recited before the graves of Walis at Meccah and

El Medinah. Amongst them is the sepulchre of Khuwaysah bint Abdillah, a

woman apparently with a soul, for Allah is begged, to ‘make her home

Paradise, with the best of its inmates.’

The materials of the Gavana are brown thatch huts, clustering round a

few one-storied, flat-roofed boxes of glaring lime and coral rag,

equally rude within and without. On the N. West lies the ‘native’ half,

which prolongs the Arab quarter beyond the enceinte; this suburb is

wholly composed of sun-burned and wind-blackened hovels, forming a

labyrinth of narrow lanes. Outside the faubourg clusters a thicketty

plantation of cocoa and fruit trees; here was the favourite

skirmishing-ground between the Sayyid’s troops and the Mazrui defenders

of the city. Mombasah is, as far as Nature made her, pleasing and

picturesque, but man has done his best to spoil her work. A glorious

‘bush,’ a forest of tall trees, capped by waving palms, laced with

llianas, and studded with shady mangoes, thick guavas, and fat baobabs,

here forming natural avenues, there scattered as in a pleasure-ground,

overspreads the vicinity of the town, whilst the more distant parts to

the West, S. West, and N. West, are dense wild growths, virgin, as it

were, and still sheltering the monkey and the hog, the hyæna and the

wild cat. The presence of man is known only by some wretched hut, or by

a dwarf Shamba-plot of meagre cultivation.

We inquired for the tomb of the Resident, Lieut. John James Reitz, who

died whilst exploring the Pangani river, and was buried here in 1823.

The site was once a church, but it has been turned into a cattle-yard by

the Banyans, and now it enjoys the name of Gurayza ya Gnombe (bullock

church). Besides some fine old masonry-revetted wells, still supplying

the best water, the only traces of the Portuguese and the ‘twenty

churches of Mombasah’ are ruins of three desecrated fanes, especially

the Gurayza Mkuba (great church), the Augustine convent which lies in

the north-eastern part of the Gavana. It is not to be compared for

interest with the Jesuit remains upon the Rio de São Francisco. The

people no longer show, as in 1824, the heap of masonry under which, says

Boteler (ii. 1-20), they had buried the Moslems who fell during the

second massacre of the Portuguese. I did not see the pillar or obelisk

and the ruined fort to the S.S. East of the citadel, shown in Captain

Owen’s chart. The Gurayza Mdogo is near the Augustine convent, and has

now all the semblance of a dwelling-house. The battery or citadel, built

by the Portuguese in 1594, and repaired in 1635, has been so much

altered that it is now an Arabo-Msawahili construction. Its position is

excellent, outside and S. East of the Gavana, pointing to the N. East,

with complete command, at a distance of 600 fathoms, over the narrow

northern entrance, and wanting only a reform in the batteries à fleur

d’eau, and clearing out the interior of sheds and forage, to be a match

for all the fleets of Arabia. Originally a quadrangle, some 120 yards

square, with 4 bastions facing the cardinal points, it was sunk below

the level of the coralline rock, which thus forms the footing of the

walls, and which supplies a broad, deep moat. According to the Mombasah

chronicle, the stones were brought ready cut from Portugal: the phrase

is ‘Do Reino,’ which Capt. Owen has rendered ‘from Rainu,’ and elsewhere

is commemorated ‘The Sultan of Rainu.’ The S.S. Western is the strongest

side, whence a land attack might be expected: the other flanks are rich

in dead ground, and the N.N. West front protects the Gavana. My sketch

of the north-eastern face, taken from the Mhoma-ni Shamba, on the

opposite side of the creek, shows a picturesque yellow pile, with tall,

long, and buttressed curtains, which appear slightly salient, enclosing

towers studded with, perpendicular loopholes; three tiers of fire

opposite the entrance to the northern harbour; a place d’armes; a high

don-jon with a giant flag-staff, conspicuous for 5 or 6 miles from the

south, and sundry garnishings of little domes and luxuriant trees, some

even growing out of the wall cracks.

Hearing that strangers are admitted to the Fort—Mrs Rebmann has often

visited it—I proceeded to the head-quarters of the Jemadar. Arrived at

the land gate leading to the inner Barzeh or vestibule, my attention was

directed to the Portuguese inscription before alluded to. It is half

defaced by the Arabs, but this is of the less consequence as copies have

been published by Captains Owen and Guillain.[10] At the angles of the

western and southern bastions are also scutcheons in stone bearing the

names Baluarte São Felippe and Baluarte Alberto. That to the north was

called Baluarte São Matthias (from Matthias de Albuquerque), but here,

as on the south side, the inscriptions have disappeared, probably by the

fire of the enemy. A sentinel at the gate waved his hand and cried, Sir!

Sir! (go! go!); but I persisted in sending for the Jemadar Tangai, who

took my hand and led me towards a shed of leafy branches, some 15 paces

outside the Fort. Here, he assured me, the Sayyid himself used to faire

anti-chambre; but I could see only hucksters and negroes. We parted in

high dudgeon, nor did we ever become friendly. Saíd bin Salim, who

during this scene had remained below and afar off, showed us the chief

mosque—there were eight when Lieut. Emery visited the town[11]—and a

formless mass of masonry, which marks the last resting-place of some

almost forgotten heroes.[12]

The climate of the Island is hotter, healthier, and drier than that of

Zanzibar. The rains begin with storms in early April, or before the

setting in of the S. West monsoon. They are violent in May, and from

that time they gradually decrease. Between December and March there are

a few showers, for which the cultivator longs; and, as may be imagined

in an island ever subject to the sea-breeze, the dews are exceptionally

heavy. The people suffer little from dysentery and fever: Europeans,

however, complain that they are never free from the latter. The endemic

complaint is a sphagadenic ulcer upon the legs and parts most distant

from the seat of circulation. Here, as in Abyssinia, in Yemen, in the

Hejaz, and at Jerusalem, the least scratch becomes an ugly wound, which

will, if neglected, destroy life. The cause may be found in the

cachectic and scorbutic habit induced by the want of vegetables and by

brackish water; the pure element is, indeed, to be found in the old

wells beyond the town and on the mainland; but the people save trouble

by preferring the nearer pits, where water percolates through briny

coralline. The town has suffered severely from epidemics, small-pox, and

what strangers call the plague. The citizens still remember the

excessive mortality of 1818, 1832, and 1835. At Mombasah I heard nothing

about the curious influence which the climate is said to exercise upon

cats, causing a sandy-coloured fur to be exchanged for ‘a coat of

beautiful short white hair’; and producing, according to others,

complete baldness, like the Remedio dogs of the Brazil and the Argentine

Republic.

Mombasah, as has been seen, trades with the Wanyika for copal, with the

people of Chaga and Ukamba-ni for ivory, and with the inner tribes

generally for hippopotamus’ teeth, rhinoceros’ horns, cattle, cereals,

and provisions. Slaves are brought from Zanzibar, natives of the country

about and south of Kilwa being preferred. The imports are chiefly

cottons, glass, beads, and hardware. There is no manufacturing industry,

except a few cloths, hand-made in the town. Besides Harar, Mombasah is

the only tropical African city which boasts an indigenous coinage.

During the wars with Sayyid Said, the Mazrui chief, finding a want of

small change, melted down a bronze cannon, and converted it into pieces

a little larger than our six-pence. The bit, which bears on the obverse

the name of Mombasah, whilst the reverse assures the owner that it is

‘money,’ was forcibly circulated, and the value was established at an

equivalent to the measure (Kibabah) of Maize. Since the fall of the

Mazara this purely conventional coin has fallen into disuse, and I was

unable to find specimens of it.

-----

Footnote 1:

The new system of electric signals has again altered the position of

Bombay, which is placed now in E. long. (G.) 72° 48′ 4″. Before that

invention the difference between London and Paris varied from 2° 20′

15″ to 2° 20′ 24″. In 1854 M. Le Verrier determined it from 200

observations to be 2° 20′ 9.45″.

Footnote 2:

This Kisawahili name is usually written by the Arabs ‘Mfíta.’ Dr Krapf

prefers ‘Mwita,’ and remarks that the ‘Wamwita,’ together with

remnants of 11 other tribes, represent the original inhabitants of

Mombasah. The natives would also pronounce Mombasah as Mombásá; and

indeed so it is written by Ibn Batuta (chap. ix.). The silent terminal

aspirate of the Arabic and Persian becomes in Kisawahili a long á,

e.g. Ndílá, a coffee-pot, from the Arabic Dallah and Daríshá, a

window, from the Persian Daricheh. The translation of El Idrisi

(Climate I. sect. 7), gives Manisa two days from Melinde, evidently a

conception of Mvita. Capt. Hamilton (India, chap. i.) unduly contracts

it to ‘Mombas,’ and this seems to be the cacography adopted of late

years.

Footnote 3:

In the original—

Estava a ilha a terra tão chegada

Que humo estreito pequeno a dividia;

Huma cidade nella situada

Que da fronte do mar apparecia;

De nobres edificios fabricada

Como por fóra ao longe descobria;

Regida por hum Rei de antigua idade,

Mombaça he o nome da ilha e da cidade.

LUSIAD, i. 103.

Footnote 4:

In 1823 the Arabs informed Capt. Boteler ‘that in some rivers in the

vicinity gold in small quantities was at times procured’ (Narrative of

a Voyage of Discovery, &c., vol. ii., chap. i.).

Footnote 5:

The racial name of these wandering Lestrigons, so formidable to the

Portuguese in the 16th century, and taken from a title of honour,

‘Captains of warlike nomades,’ is thus confused by Prichard (Natural

History of Man): ‘In 1569 the same people are said to have been

completely routed on the Eastern coast, near Mombasa, after having

laid waste the whole region of Monomotapa.’ He may have heard of the

Highland of Chaga, whose people, however, call themselves not Wachaga,

but Wakirima—mountaineers. Or he may have known that the Portuguese

inscription over the Fort Gate at Mombasah declares that in A.D. 1635

the Capitão Mor, Francisco de Xeixas e Cabrera, had subjugated,

amongst others, the King of Jaca or Jaga. Jaca is also mentioned by J.

de Barros (ii. 1, 2). M. Guillain (vol. ii. chap. xxii.) makes ‘Chaka’

a town between Melinde and the mouth of the Ozi river. We find ‘the

Jages, Anthropophagos,’ in Walker’s Map, No. 4, Universal Atlas, 1811.

Footnote 6:

Messrs J. Schön and Samuel Crowther’s Journals with the Niger

Expedition of 1841. London, 1842.

Footnote 7:

Dos Santos calls the Commander ‘Muzimbas.’ Duarte Barbosa mentions sub

voce Zimbaoche, a great village seven days’ journey from Benametapa.

De Barros identifies it with the Ptolemeian Agyzimba, and describes it

as a royal residence of the Emperor Benomotapa. It is the Zumbo of Dr

Livingstone.

Footnote 8:

A plan of the Island was published by Rezende in 1635.

Footnote 9:

In the edition of Charles Muller (Paris, 1845) the word καίνης

disappears, and the sentence becomes καὶ της λεγομένης διώρυχος, ‘and

the so-called fosse.’ Certainly the term διῶρὺξ would suit the

Mombasah Canal better than the Channel of Patta, and the former is the

only ‘digging’ where human labour can possibly have been applied. Thus

Pliny (v. 3) explains the name of the city Hippo Diarrhytus, ‘from the

channels made for irrigation.’ That the scanty population of Arabs at

ancient Mombasah was incapable of excavating a canal 600 metres long

is no proof that the work was not done. The Sultan of Mombasah could

bring into the field 5000 wild archers, and, similarly, in the Brazil

the most astonishing works were effected by a handful of Portuguese,

assisted by hordes of Tupy savages.

Footnote 10:

Owen (i. 404, 405) sketches and transcribes it very incorrectly.

Guillain (vol. i., Appendix, p. 622) has done his work better. In vol.

i., p. 442, however, he gives the name of the governor as ‘Sexas e

Cabra’—the latter by no means complimentary.

Footnote 11:

Short account of Mombas and the neighbouring coast of Africa, by

Lieut. Emery, R. N. Journal Royal Geographical Society, vol. iii. of

1854.

Footnote 12:

This may, however, be the pile spoken of by Boteler.

Zanzibar; city, island, and coast. Vol. 2 (of 2) · 第 2 / 13 章