CHAPTER I.

A JOURNEY THROUGH THE YEMEN

[Illustration: BAZAAR AT DHAMAR.]

A

JOURNEY THROUGH THE YEMEN

AND

SOME GENERAL REMARKS UPON

THAT COUNTRY

BY

WALTER B. HARRIS, F.R.G.S.

AUTHOR OF

‘THE LAND OF AN AFRICAN SULTAN; TRAVELS IN MOROCCO’

_ILLUSTRATED FROM SKETCHES AND PHOTOGRAPHS

TAKEN BY THE AUTHOR_

WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS

EDINBURGH AND LONDON

MDCCCXCIII

_All Rights reserved_

TO

MY FATHER AND MOTHER

_I DEDICATE THIS BOOK_.

PREFACE.

But very few words are necessary as a preface to this book, as more than

once in its pages its objects are stated.

An account of my journey through the Yemen appeared last autumn in a

series of articles in the ‘Illustrated London News,’ and it is with

kind permission of the proprietors of that paper that some of the

illustrations reappear here. Many of the illustrations, however, have not

seen the light of day before.

The chapter on the Yemen rebellion was published as an article in

‘Blackwood’s Magazine’ for February last.

The remainder of the book consists of entirely new matter.

I cannot attempt to thank here the many persons who aided me and rendered

me services during the time I was in the Yemen. Without their assistance

my journey would probably have failed. To them I am most grateful.

W. B. H.

_Sept. 1893._

CONTENTS.

CHAP. PAGE

PART I.—SOME GENERAL REMARKS ON THE YEMEN.

I. THE YEMEN, 3

II. THE YEMEN BEFORE THE HEJIRA, 27

III. THE YEMEN SINCE THE HEJIRA, 47

IV. THE INFLUENCES OF ISLAM IN THE YEMEN, 70

V. THE REBELLION IN THE YEMEN, 92

PART II.—A JOURNEY THROUGH THE YEMEN.

I. ADEN, 121

II. ADEN TO LAHEJ, 151

III. LAHEJ TO KHOREIBA, 174

IV. ACROSS THE TURKISH FRONTIER, 200

V. SOBEH TO YERIM, 223

VI. YERIM TO DHAMAR, 247

VII. DHAMAR TO SANAA, 263

VIII. SANAA, THE CAPITAL OF THE YEMEN, 299

IX. SANAA TO MENAKHA, 323

X. MENAKHA To HODAIDAH, 341

XI. HODAIDAH, 358

APPENDIX.

GENEALOGICAL AND CHRONOLOGICAL TREE OF THE IMAMS OF SANAA, 374

A LIST OF THE IMAMS OF SANAA, GIVING THEIR FULL TITLES, 375

PEDIGREE OF THE REIGNING ABDALI SULTAN OF LAHEJ, 376

INDEX, 377

ILLUSTRATIONS.

FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.

BAZAAR AT DHAMAR, _Frontispiece_

COFFEE PLANTATION ON TERRACES AT ATTARA, NEAR

MENAKHA, _To face page_ 8

VIEW OF MOUNTAIN-RANGES NEAR SÔK EL-KHAMIS, ON THE

ROAD FROM SANAA TO HODAIDAH, ” 18

ANCIENT TANK AT MENURA, NEAR DHAMAR, ” 38

HOWTA, THE CAPITAL OF LAHEJ, ” 60

MENAKHA, ” 110

TOMB AND MOSQUE OF SHEIKH OTHMAN NEAR ADEN, ” 122

PALACE OF THE SULTAN OF LAHEJ, ” 162

MY RECEPTION BY THE SULTAN OF LAHEJ, ” 170

KHOREIBA, ” 198

VIEW OF AZAB, ” 218

MAN AND WOMAN OF THE HIGHLANDS OF THE YEMEN, ” 228

MOSQUE AT BEIT SAÏD, ” 232

UPPER FLOOR OF A KHAN AT YERIM, ” 248

MY QUARTERS AT DHAMAR, ” 260

KARIAT EN-NEGIL, ” 262

JIBEL DORAN—EARLY MORNING, ” 282

KHADAR, ” 286

VIEW FROM WAALAN, ” 288

THE AUTHOR BEING EXAMINED AND HIS PASSPORT READ IN THE

PRESENCE OF AHMED FEIZI PASHA, GOVERNOR-GENERAL OF

THE YEMEN, ” 292

MENAKHA, FROM THE NORTH, ” 322

THE VILLAGE OF EL-HAJRA, ” 342

TURKISH CAMP OF HOJAILA, ” 348

GATE OF A WALLED VILLAGE IN THE YEMEN, ” 354

ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT.

A NATIVE OF THE TEHÁMA, 68

A YEMENI, 78

JEW OF THE YEMEN, 82

TURKISH TROOPS ON THE MARCH, 103

MAIN PASS, ADEN, 144

A VALLEY IN YEMEN, 193

CASTLE OF AMIR OF DHALA, 195

A GIRL OF THE YEMEN, 204

VILLAGE OF AREDOAH, 213

BEIT EN-NEDISH, 226

INSCRIBED STONE AT MUNKAT, NEAR YERIM, 243

MOSQUE AND MINARET AT DHAMAR, 259

HIRRAN, 273

CAVE-TOMBS, HIRRAN, 274

GROUND-PLAN OF TOMB III., 275

INTERIOR OF TOMB III., HAIT HIRRAN, 276

ENTRANCE TO TOMB IV., HAIT HIRRAN, 277

THE AUTHOR IN PRISON AT SANAA, 295

TURKISH OFFICERS IN A _CAFÉ_ AT SANAA, 308

TURKISH MOSQUE AT SANAA, AS SEEN FROM THE PRISON WINDOW, 316

TURKISH SOLDIER, 317

GORGE NEAR MENAKHA, 332

VIEW NEAR WISIL, 344

A STREET IN HODAIDAH, 364

MAPS.

ADEN AND ITS SURROUNDINGS, _To face page_ 122

DHAMAR TO SANAA, ” 264

THE COUNTRY OF THE YEMEN, _At the end_

A JOURNEY THROUGH THE YEMEN.

PART I.

SOME GENERAL REMARKS ON THE YEMEN

CHAPTER I.

THE YEMEN.

The Yemen may be described as forming the south-west corner of Arabia.

So little is known of the geography of the interior, and to such a

slight extent do even the natives define the boundaries between their

own land and the surrounding provinces, that any exact description of

the country is impossible. The same may be said of nearly all oriental

frontiers, except where, taking an example from European customs, a clear

line of demarcation has been agreed upon; for, as a rule, limits depend

far more upon tribal position and inheritance than upon any natural

features of the land in question; and in many cases in the settlement of

frontier questions with oriental Powers, even European Governments have

been obliged to follow upon these lines. This is especially clearly

exemplified in the case of the Algerian and Moroccan frontier, in the

southern parts of which no absolute boundary has been fixed, certain

tribes, whether in French or Moorish territory, belonging to whichever of

the two nationalities under which they are enrolled.

How infinitely difficult it is, then, in the case of the Yemen, to state

where that province begins and ends, will be appreciated.

As to two of its limits, the task of definition is simple; for on the

west the Red Sea, and on the south that portion of the Indian Ocean

known as the Gulf of Aden, allow of no question. On the north and east

far more serious difficulties arise. Without attempting to delineate any

exact frontier, which, with our present geographical knowledge of the

country, would fail at the best to be anything more than roughly correct,

more general terms must be used than would be justifiable in a more

pretentious work than the present.

It may be stated, then, that the province of Arabia known as the Yemen

is bounded on the east by the Hadramaut tribes, and on the north by the

Asir, although some authorities include the latter, making the north

frontier of the Yemen adjacent with the southern limit of the Hejaz,

the province of Arabia in which are situated the holy cities of Mecca

and Medina. As far as the writer was able to gather, however, from the

natives themselves, the Asir is considered to be an entirely different

district, although its inhabitants are nearly related to the Yemenis by

blood. In fact, it may be said without much exaggeration that the present

divisions of Arabia as marked upon the maps are but little in advance

geographically of the ancient Greek and Roman arbitrary distinctions of

Arabia Felix, Arabia Petræa, and Arabia Deserta. Even allowing for the

widest limits claimed for the Yemen, the whole country lies between 42°

and 46° east longitude and 12° and 20° north latitude.

Although no natural formation of the Yemen can assist one in correctly

determining its inland frontiers, the same cannot be said of the two

great divisions into which the country is split up. These are so apparent

that, from the earliest geographers to the present day, they have

remained unchanged and fully recognised. But in order to appreciate this,

a few words must be said as to the formation of the country. While the

interior consists of vast mountain-ranges and elevated plateaux, some of

which lie at an altitude of over eight thousand feet above the sea-level,

the seaboard consists, both on the west and south, of low-lying sandy

deserts and plains, varying in breadth from thirty to nearly a hundred

miles. The only exception where a spur of the mountains approaches the

sea is at the headland of Sidi Sheikh, the south-west corner of the Red

Sea—a spur of land a few miles in width exactly opposite the island of

Perim, from which it is divided by a narrow channel. It may be remembered

that only a few years back there was a false report that France had

purchased this advantageous spot from the Turkish Government.

The formation of these maritime plains is such that it may be safely

surmised that a very considerable portion, at least of what is now

desert, was at one time covered by the sea. So fast, indeed, has been the

silting action, that more than one former port now lies well inland. As

an example of this, Sir R. L. Playfair, in his excellent ‘History of the

Yemen,’ mentions the town of Muza, once a flourishing sea-port, now over

twenty miles inland. In many places, too, shells and chips of coral are

to be found at great distances from the coast. The same retrograde action

of the sea can be traced, too, at Aden, which was, no doubt, at one time

an island, and is now joined to the mainland by a low isthmus, formed by

the silting of sea-sand upon a submarine basis of rock.

The name Teháma is applied to these plains of the Yemen. It is a district

exceedingly subject to drought, and with a very small rainfall. What

water-supply it boasts, with the exception of oases, is principally due

to the mountain torrents, which, originating in the highlands, rush

impetuously down the steep slopes, usually to be entirely exhausted by

the desert before reaching the sea. It is said, however, that even in

the driest seasons water may be found by sinking wells in the river-beds.

Although the supply thus obtained is sufficient to maintain the lives

of Bedouins and their flocks and herds, it is far from proving of any

great utility to cultivation, in such spots where, even in good years,

cultivation is possible. However, fortunately for the inhabitants,

there are scattered over these deserts many oases, where cereals can be

reared with tolerable certainty of reaping the crops. The poor quality

of the soil as a rule renders agriculture, except in the most favourable

positions, an unprofitable pursuit. The plains serve, too, for the

breeding of camels,—those of the Abdali and Foudtheli country, lying

to the north and north-east of Aden, being especially famous for their

swiftness and carrying capabilities.

The Jibál, or highlands, display entirely opposite features. Enormous

ranges of mountains rise abruptly from the Teháma to great altitudes, in

places probably 14,000 and 15,000 feet. These ranges for the most part

take a general south-easterly direction, and are split up into a series

of wide, fertile, parallel valleys. It was doubtless the luxuriance and

agricultural wealth, added to the attractiveness of the climate, of this

portion of Arabia, that won for the Yemen in former days the title of

Arabia Felix. In these great valleys the coffee is grown, sharing with

the production of the indigo-plant and other dye-giving species the

attention of the mountaineers. Added to this, the climate is such as to

allow nearly all European vegetables to grow and flourish, and also many

varieties of fruit-trees. The nature of the country renders necessary

for cultivation the terracing of the steep mountain-sides, and over this

laborious task an almost incredible amount of work and time is expended.

But of this I shall have opportunity of speaking anon.

There is, as might be expected, a vast difference in the temperature of

the highlands and the plains. While at Aden and the surrounding country

the thermometer averages all the year round some 85° Fahrenheit, it

probably does not rise above a mean of 61° or 62° in the shade at Sanaa,

the capital of the Yemen, where, as in all the elevated country, frosts

are by no means uncommon in winter. Nor is it solely in temperature

that great differences are apparent with regard to the low and high

elevations; for whereas also in the former the rainfall is uncertain and

sometimes almost nil,[1] the mountain country boasts two regular wet

seasons—in spring and in autumn respectively. In this respect the seasons

may be said to correspond with those of the plateaux of Harrar and the

Galla country. In both cases the rain is said to be of almost daily

occurrence, but lasting only a short time, the showers being broken by

periods of bright sunshine.

Nothing can be imagined more beautiful than the scenery of the mountains

of the Yemen. Torn into all manner of fantastic peaks, the rocky crags

add a wildness to a view that otherwise possesses the most peaceful

charms. Rich green valleys, well timbered in places, and threaded

by silvery streams of dancing water; sloping fields, gay with crops

and wild-flowers; the terraced or jungle-covered slopes,—all are so

luxuriant, so verdant, that one’s ideas as to the nature of Arabia are

entirely upset. Well known as is, and always has been, the fertility

of this region, its extent is almost startling, and it can little be

wondered at that Alexander the Great intended, after his conquest of

India, to take up his abode in the Yemen, had not death cut short his

career.

[Illustration: COFFEE PLANTATION ON TERRACES AT ATTARA, NEAR MENAKHA.]

Thus briefly described, it will be seen that the Yemen consists of

two entirely different systems of country, influenced by two entirely

different climates: the one arid plains, without much appreciable

rainfall; the other a mountainous district, producing cereals, dyes,

aromatic gums, coffee, and other rich produce—a country of valleys and

plateaux, well watered withal, and enjoying a climate that for salubrity

may be said to equal any in the tropics. Having now pointed out in a

general way the difference of the two districts, I purpose to enter a

little more definitely into the description of each.

To commence with the Teháma, as being the seaboard. It consists, as

already stated, of plains varying from thirty to a hundred miles in

breadth, and separating the highlands from the sea, both on the west

and south. These, for the sake of distinction, I shall call respectively

the western and southern Teháma. The former contains some five cities

of importance, situated either on the coast of the Red Sea or in that

district which divides it from the mountains. Almost in the Asir country

lies Lohaya, a small town on the coast, to which I shall refer more

particularly in a chapter on the Yemen rebellion. Proceeding south, the

next coast town of importance is Hodaidah, to-day the capital of that

portion of the Yemen, and still farther south Mokha. As it was my lot

to spend a week in the fever-stricken town of Hodaidah, I shall reserve

anything I have to say about it for another opportunity; but as it was

my ill fortune to see Mokha only from the sea and not to land there,

and as I shall therefore not have to narrate any personal experiences

in reference to it, I shall add some description of the place and its

history at this juncture.

There is certainly no name of any city in the Yemen as familiar to

Englishmen as that of Mokha, with the exception of Aden. This it owes

to its having for a long time enjoyed almost the sole reputation of the

export city of the coffee-berry. However, it is not generally known that

no coffee grows at all in the immediate vicinity of Mokha, and that

all that was shipped from there was previously carried to the city by

caravans from the mountains, often over very great distances. Almost as

suddenly as Mokha rose to fame has it fallen again. Before the arrival in

the Red Sea of the English and Portuguese traders it scarcely existed at

all, the outlets for the trade of this portion of the Yemen being Okelis

and Muza. It was not, in fact, until the fifteenth century A.D. that

Mokha became a place of resort for ships, and it owes its origin more

to the discovery of coffee than to any advantages or attractions of its

own. In the early part of the seventeenth century the English and Dutch

founded trading “factories” there, and from that time for a period of

some two hundred years its fame and wealth were renowned. Van den Broeck

describes the place as it existed at the time of his visit in 1616, and

notes that to such an extent has its trade recently augmented that goods

from Hungary and Venice were found in the market, which had been carried

by caravans the whole length of Arabia, to be exchanged for the produce

of the far east.[2] He further describes the town as a most flourishing

community, containing within its walls numbers of numerous nationalities

who had flocked there on hearing of its fame and renown.

A century after the Dutch and English had founded their factories the

French followed their example, while in 1803 the Americans commenced

to trade direct with the Red Sea ports. On the British occupation of

Aden in 1839, the immense superiority of that place as a port, and the

security and advantages assured by British rule, drew the commerce from

Mokha thence, the former celebrated city fast falling to decay and

ruin.[3] Before this period, however, serious outrages had been offered

to British subjects, and during the first twenty years of this century

there had been constant trouble brewing between the fanatical natives and

the Christians, augmented no doubt by the jealousy felt by the former

for the manner in which the Europeans had annexed their trade. More

extraordinary still than these outrages was the manner in which their

perpetration was looked upon by the British Government, and it was not

until things became unbearable that forcible means were taken to punish

the offenders, and in 1820 a force under Captain Bruce, who had been sent

thither to enforce a treaty with the Imam’s Amir, and Captain Lumley of

H.M.S. Topaz, bombarded Mokha, and succeeded in forcing an entry into the

town. The result of this long-delayed act of reparation on the part of

the Indian Government was the placing upon an honourable footing of the

British “factory,” and the carrying through of a treaty of commerce with

the Government of the Yemen.[4]

Although the author did not land in Mokha, the captain of the steamer

on which he proceeded from Hodaidah to Aden very kindly approached as

near the shore as was compatible with the ship’s course, and with the aid

of glasses a very good view of the place was obtained. From a distance

it still has the appearance of being a flourishing town, but on nearer

approach one can see that, although the walls of the houses are still

standing, the roofs and floors have for the most part fallen in, and

Mokha is to-day little more than a vast ruin, from which a few tall

minarets still rise to tell of its former beauties. A handful of Turkish

soldiers and a few Bedouins are all that remain of its once heterogeneous

population; and where once the streets were filled with richly robed

merchants, goats feed to-day on the coarse weeds.

As Lohaya and Hodaidah are more particularly mentioned elsewhere in this

book, little more remains to be said of the ports of the western Teháma.

Some mention must be made, however, of the islands of Kamaran and Perim,

the two most important of the many that lie on the eastern side of this

part of the Red Sea. The former owes its importance to-day from the fact

that it is a British possession, and serves as the quarantine station of

the pilgrims going to and returning from Jeddah, _en route_ to and from

Mecca. It is situated in latitude 15° 20′ N. and longitude 42° 30′ E.,

and is about ten miles in length, varying from two to four wide. In some

parts it is little more than a swamp, in others some low hills allow of

the growth of palm-trees; but the inhabitants are nearly all engaged in

the pearl and turtle fisheries.[5]

The other island which may be included in a description of the Teháma

is Perim. It is situated in the Straits of Bab el-Mandeb, a mile and a

half from the Arabian and about ten miles from the African shores. It is

formed of dark volcanic igneous rock and plains of sand on which a few

sand-loving flowers grow. The highest point of the island is between two

and three hundred feet above the sea-level. What, however, compensates

for its aridness and hideous character is the grand harbour it possesses.

This bay is a mile long by half a mile wide, well sheltered, and

averaging a depth of five fathoms in the good anchorages. In 1799, in

consequence of the invasion of Egypt by the French, a British naval

force, under Admiral Blanket, proceeded to the Red Sea, while the

Bombay Government, acting in conjunction with the other force, seized

Perim in the name of the East India Company. No fresh water, however,

being procurable, it was during the next year abandoned as a station

for troops. To-day, under the hands of the Perim Coal Company not only

offices but a hotel has been erected there, and the place promises to

become a flourishing coaling-station. All the water is, of course,

produced by condensers. A few British troops are habitually quartered

there, being sent from time to time for that purpose from Aden, and there

is telegraphic communication both with that port and Hodaidah.

Two cities of importance lie in the interior of the western

Teháma—namely, Zebeed and Beit el-Fakih. The former has throughout all

the medieval history of the Yemen played a part of great importance;

for not only has Zebeed been a seat of learning and art, but also has

been inseparably connected with all the great civil wars and religious

differences that have from time to time shaken the Yemen to its very

foundations. Before the invasion of the Turks it was the capital and

seat of government of the Teháma, though to-day Hodaidah has usurped its

position as such.

The foundations of Zebeed were laid by Ibn Ziad after his conquest of

the Teháma in 204 A.H.[6] The city is described not only by Omarah but

also by many other native historians, who one and all make mention of

its political importance as well as of its size. The account most to

the point, perhaps, is that of El Khasraji, who states that the city is

circular in form; that near it to the south flows the river of the same

name, while to the north is the Wadi Rima, the two ensuring a fertile

situation and a constant water-supply. He adds that it stood midway

between the mountains and the sea, and almost equidistant from both, the

time taken to reach either the one or the other being half a day.

Of Beit el-Fakih little need be said here, as to-day it is a place of but

slight importance. Like all these cities of the Teháma, it is irregularly

built of sun-dried mud bricks. Its name, “The House of the Scholar,”

is derived from its being the place of burial of a certain Seyed Ahmed

ibn Musa, whose tomb is still much reverenced and visited as a place of

veneration. The town possesses no claim to interest either politically or

commercially.

The next portion of the Yemen of which notice must here be taken are

the plains commencing from the Straits of Bab el-Mandeb, and extending

to some sixty miles east of Aden. These plains are included in the

Teháma, but in order to distinguish them from that part already noticed,

I describe them as the southern Teháma. Like the western Teháma, they

separate the mountains from the sea, and in many respects these two

portions of desert bear great resemblance. The southern Teháma varies

from fifty to a hundred miles in breadth, and is inhabited by wild

tribes, the most important of which are the Subaiha, the Abdali, and

the Foudtheli, the first being nomad in character. These plains boast

no cities of any size except Howta, the capital of the Sultan of Lahej,

chief of the Abdali tribe, which lies some twenty-seven miles north-west

of Aden, and Taiz,—though the latter, from its situation on a spur of

the mountains, may be said rather to dominate than to belong to these

southern plains. Ibn Khaldun, in his geography of the Yemen, refers to

Taiz as an important city overlooking the Teháma, and mentions that it

had at all times been a royal residence. Without much further mention

of this city, which the author did not visit, a few remarks may be made

upon its later history. Owing to jealousies between members of its ruling

family, a certain Seyed Kassim, uncle to the then ruling Imam, Ali

Mansur, treacherously sold the place to the Egyptians in 1837, and it

was taken without resistance by Ibrahim Pasha, a general in the service

of the famous Mahammed Ali Pasha, who held it until in 1840 a fanatical

Mahdi el-Fakih Saïd took the town, only to have it wrested from him in

1841 by the Imam Seyed Mahammed el-Hadi. During the late Yemen rebellion

it fell into the hands of the Arabs, for formerly it lay within the limit

of Turkish influence, and has probably by this time been reoccupied by

the Osmanli troops.

With these few remarks upon the plain districts of the Yemen, scanty as

they are, notice may now be taken of the mountainous districts. Such

parts as the author travelled through will be more minutely treated

of in the narration of his journey, together with the towns of Yerim,

Dhamar, and Sanaa, the three principal cities of the Yemen plateaux.

However, there are other places of importance to which reference must

be made here, and which, although not situated upon the plateau, must

by their position be included in this division of the Yemen. Of these

the most important are Ibb and Jiblah. Both of these mountain-fortresses

are of some antiquity, and have played no mean part in the history of

the country. Ibb is mentioned by Omarah as being situated upon the great

pilgrim-road built by Huseyn ibn Salaamah, a slave-vizier, which led

from the Hadramaut, east of Aden, to Mecca itself, which was constructed

about the year 400 A.H. After leaving Aden this great pilgrim-route was

split up into two parts, one proceeding _viâ_ Ibb and the mountains,

joining the author’s route at Kariat en-Nekil, north of Dhamar; the other

following the Teháma. The road which leads _viâ_ Ibb proceeds through

Sanaa, and thence _viâ_ Sadah and Taif to the Holy City.

Jiblah, or Dhu Jiblah, as it was formerly called, owes its name to

the fact that it was built upon the site of a pottery belonging to a

Jew, Jiblah by name. It lies some ten miles to the south-west of Ibb.

Ibn Khaldun gives a short description of the place. It is, he says, a

fortress, and was founded by Abdullah, the Sulayhite, in the year 458

A.H. Like Taiz, it was a royal residence.

[Illustration: VIEW OF MOUNTAIN-RANGES NEAR SÔK EL-KHAMIS.

_On the road from Sanaa to Hodaidah._]

The other cities of the mountain district, lying principally north of

Sanaa, the capital, and therefore not coming under that portion of the

country which it was the author’s lot to travel over, will be noticed

anon.

Rough as these notes are, they will, I venture to think, help to

illustrate the map. To attempt here the task of identifying the ancient

sites with modern names would be not only a task of great difficulty,

but also one unsuitable to the present book. Mr Kay, in his most able

translation of Omarah’s History, has pointed out how extremely laborious

and uncertain has been his attempt to do so, even with such maps as

to-day exist of the country. The author, after consideration, thought it

more advisable to avoid entering into discussions that bear but little

relation to his work, and would, he fears, but prove uninteresting to

the general reader. He has therefore confined his geographical notes to

such portions of the country as he himself passed through, supplemented

by a few remarks upon places that demand some notice, either from their

importance to-day or from historical interest. In the chapter relating to

the history of the country the same course has been pursued, a few pages

of print being put aside for what would fill volumes were it taken in

hand.

Having now treated of the Yemen as it appears from a cursory glance

at the map, it is intended to enter a little more fully into its

description, unconnected with its natural formation of plains and

highlands.

Ibn Khaldun, in the preface to his Geography, states that the Yemen

is divided into seven royal seats of Government;[7] but Niebuhr gives

a larger list of provinces, which is again added to by Sir Lambert

Playfair. These divisions of the country, it must be understood, are

entirely Arab in origin, and to-day have been more or less altered to

suit the Turks. However, on inquiry from the natives, the writer found

that, although disregarded by the Osmanli conquerors, the names are still

in common use amongst the indigenous peoples.

The author gives the list of these provinces in the order in which they

are printed in Playfair’s ‘Yemen’:—

Aden.

The Teháma.

Sanaa.

Lahej.

Kaukeban.

Beled el-Kabail (Hashid wa Bakil).

Abou Arish.

A district lying between Abou Arish and the Hejaz, inhabited by

Bedouins, &c.

Khaulán.

Sahán (including Sadah).

Nejrán.

Nehm.

East Khaulán (several small principalities).

Beled el-Jehaf (or Mareb),

and

Yaffa.

“These are,” says Playfair, “as nearly as they can be classified, the

great political divisions of the country; but numerous smaller states

and tribes exist which cannot be classed with propriety in any of the

above districts, yet which are too insignificant to require a separate

notice.”[8]

The first two of these provinces, the _Teháma_ and _Aden_, are described

elsewhere. The third is _Sanaa_, taking its name from the city, the

capital of the Yemen. On account of continued wars and struggles, its

boundaries have for ever been shifting. Within the province are situated

the cities of Dhamar, Yerim, Rodaa, Ibb, Jiblah, Kátaba, Taiz, and Hais.

_Lahej_ is described more fully elsewhere, so there is little further

need to make mention of it here, except to roughly indicate its limits;

for under this title are contained not only the tribe-lands of the Abdali

Sultan, but also the Subaiha, Akrabi, Foudtheli, and Houshabi tribes.

The country inhabited by these Arabs of the Plains may be said to extend

from the Straits of Bab el-Mandeb to about eighty miles east of Aden. The

country is poor, and boasts but one or two towns, but many large villages.

The next province is _Kaukeban_, which, with _Beled el-Kabail_, _Abou

Arish_, and _Beni Hallel_, may be taken altogether. The latter tribe

inhabit a strip of plain country along the borders of the Red Sea,

while the three former include that portion of the country lying to the

north-east and east of Beni Hallel, and extending as far east as a line

drawn from Sanaa due north.

North again of Abou Arish, and between that country and the Hejaz, is the

Asir, part of which is mountainous and part plains—the former inhabited

by dwellers in fixed abodes, and the latter by wild Bedouins.

North of Sanaa, and upon the road connecting that city with Mecca,

the continuation of the pilgrim-road of Huseyn ibn Salaamah mentioned

elsewhere, is the province of _Khaulán_, east of which again is _Sahán_,

included in the province and former principality of Sadah. This forms

one of the richest portions of the Yemen, being famous for fruits,

honey, and cattle. It consists of large valleys well watered, and at

such an elevation as to render them not only suitable for the growing of

fruit-trees, but also exceedingly healthy. Niebuhr mentions these tribes

as hospitable but inclined to robbery, and as speaking as pure Arabic as

is anywhere in use.

The next province is still more mountainous, and, on account of its

inaccessibility, has remained almost unconquered. It is known as

_Nejrán_, and consists of wide fertile valleys reaching nearly to the

desert of Akhaf. Like Khaulán, it is renowned for its cattle and fruit,

the breed of horses, too, being celebrated. They are said to be of the

famous Nejed strain.

The province of _Kahtan_, situated eleven days’ journey north of the

valley of Nejrán, is another example of the difficulties of fixing any

reliable frontier to the Yemen. Evidently it is inhabited by Yemeni

people, as it takes its name from the founder of that stock, Kahtan, who

is said to be no other than Joktan of the Jewish Scriptures.

_Eastern Khaulán_ lies to the north-east of the capital Sanaa. It

possessed formerly a celebrated city of the Jews, which is now said to be

almost entirely deserted. Although generally known by the name of Eastern

Khaulán, it in reality consists of a number of small principalities.

_Beled el-Jehaf_ may be said to form the extreme eastern division of

the northern portion of the Yemen, but whether it should be considered

as part of that country is open to doubt. It extends from a few days’

journey east of Sanaa as far as the desert that divides Oman from

Western Arabia. It is in this district that is situated the city of

Mareb, otherwise known as Saba or Sheba, whence the celebrated queen

visited Solomon. The natives have traditions of a Queen Balkis, whom

they affirm to have been the lady in question. However, this has been

proved impossible, as the dates do not correspond. It was at Saba that

the celebrated dam was built, the destruction of which, about one hundred

years A.D., wrought such widespread destruction. A few words about this

prodigious building will be found in reference to the tanks at Aden in

the chapter upon that possession.

The last of the list of provinces is _Yaffa_, which lies between the

Hadramaut on the east and south, and the districts of Lahej and Sanaa on

the north and west. It became independent some two centuries ago, up to

that time having been under the rule of the Imams of Sanaa.[9] It is a

rich fertile country, producing gums, cereals, and coffee. It possesses

three towns—Yaffa, Medinet el-Asfal, and Gharrah. Living in close

conjunction with the Yaffai tribe are the Oulaki, divided into the upper

and lower, their capitals being respectively Nisáb inland, and Howr on

the coast.[10]

These, then, are the principal provinces into which the Yemen is

considered by the natives to be divided, though to define exactly their

boundaries, as in the case of the frontiers of the whole country, would

be an impossible task.

With regard to the geography of the Yemen but few more words are needed,

in order to render clear the following pages of the narrative of the

author’s journey. Although an account is given elsewhere of the Turkish

dominion of the Yemen, it may be as well to delineate the present

frontier since the Osmanli occupation of the country, although again it

is almost an arbitrary one.

To commence from the south. The division between the Arab tribes of the

southern Teháma and Turkish Yemen commences some ten miles east of the

Straits of Bab el-Mandeb, and so includes the promontory of Sidi Sheikh,

which projects toward Perim Island, from which it is divided by a narrow

strait a mile and a half in width. From thence the frontier runs in a

north-easterly direction, passing a little to the east of Taiz, from

which it again turns more directly east, passing to the south of Mavia,

and, skirting the territory of the Amir of Dhala, includes the town of

Kátaba. From this spot it turns almost due north, keeping well to the

east of Yerim and Dhamar, although these towns, as a matter of fact, form

practically the eastern boundary of the Turkish Yemen. From Dhamar to

Sanaa the frontier runs almost due north and south, and may be said to

exist about forty to fifty miles east of a straight line drawn between

these two cities.

From Sanaa to the north the Turks claim authority as within their limits

over all the country lying to the west of a line drawn from Sanaa to the

south-eastern corner of the province of the Hejaz, although over the Asir

and other inaccessible mountain tribes their authority is purely nominal,

and has never been acknowledged to any extent.

It must not be thought that all the country lying within the frontier

thus described is securely under Turkish rule, for there are whole tribes

which do not, nor ever have done so, acknowledge anything more than a

nominal subjection to the Sublime Porte.

That these notes upon the geography of the Yemen will prove of but little

value to _savants_ the writer knows only too well; but if his journey was

unproductive of any scientific or historical discoveries, it must be

borne in mind the period at which it was undertaken: that not only was

a rebellion still taking place, that a month or two before had shaken

the whole country to its very foundations, but also that the author was

by the Turks treated as a spy, and was more than once in great personal

danger from the Arabs. Under these circumstances he feels that he cannot

be blamed if his journey was devoid of any great results. All that he can

boast to have brought back with him is a story of travel and adventure,

and numerous photographs and notes, that will tend to throw light upon

the present condition of the Yemen, especially on what has been taking

place in that country since the Turkish occupation of the highlands in

1872. His narrative of travel tells a story of long night marches, and

of days spent in hiding; of a sojourn in a Turkish prison; and this

story, he trusts, will prove sufficient evidence that he had little or no

opportunity for research. It was owing to a mere chance that his notes

and photographs were saved from destruction by the Turkish authorities at

Sanaa.

If these pages tend to throw some light upon this most interesting corner

of Arabia, and help to show what the country and its inhabitants are

like, the author will be well satisfied with the result.

CHAPTER II.

THE YEMEN BEFORE THE HEJIRA.

Having in the last chapter briefly sketched the principal geographical

features of the Yemen, it remains now to make mention of its history.

The same remarks as were made as to the geography are applicable here,

that with the exception of certain periods which have been made the study

of archæologists and orientalists, there is but very little known of

the history of the Yemen, and there are long periods existing between

the times of which something has been written or translated that are

almost blanks. Nor is it on this account alone that the task of compiling

in two chapters so many centuries of historical matter is a difficult

one, for many of the times and dynasties of which there exists some

trustworthy account are all but unimportant in treating of the country

in general, what knowledge we possess in very many cases being simply

the genealogies of local princes and rulers. However, it is only by a

study of these shreds of history that we are able to gain any facts

concerning the condition of the country during the early centuries after

the introduction of Islam, for instance; and if they in themselves appeal

almost solely to the student of things oriental, they yet tend to throw

more light upon the inner life of the people than it would be possible to

gather elsewhere.

But the history of the Yemen is by no means confined to such a brief

period as that which has passed between the birth of Islam and to-day.

There exists a far more ancient and more wonderful history, of which,

unhappily, we know as yet but little, but which, should it even be

possible to make thorough examination of its monuments and records, may

prove that many of the existing civilisations sprang from the Yemen

and Hadramaut, and that the ancient Egyptians themselves, owed the

foundations of their arts and learning to the inhabitants of Southern

Arabia. Some light has been thrown lately upon the old civilisation of

Southern Arabia by the successful excavations carried on by Mr Theodore

Bent in Mashonaland, which have proved most clearly that the Arabs of

Southern Arabia were in touch with that distant quarter of Africa, and

not only in touch, but even so firmly rooted there as to erect forts and

temples, to build and to decorate, and to work the mines of that country.

At present scientific exploration of the Yemen and the other divisions of

Southern Arabia has been, for many reasons, so seldom undertaken that

there remains to be discovered there more than is probably to be found in

any part of the world. How rich the country is in archæological remains

may be judged from the quantity of inscriptions, &c., brought back by the

enterprising and scholarly Austrian Dr Glaser, to whom we owe nearly all

that is known of the earlier periods of Yemenite history. It was through

the extensive researches of this _savant_ that any conclusive data have

been given not only to individual sovereigns but to whole dynasties, with

the result that although far from perfect knowledge, very considerable

light has been thrown upon the early days of the Yemen.

Before, however, entering into any precise account of the historical

records of the Yemen, it may be as well to briefly mention a few

well-founded traditions generally accepted amongst the natives and

believed by themselves to be undisputable. In this they are, no doubt,

mainly right in the origin; but in attempting to trace their descent,

through periods later than those of the earliest times, they have to some

extent become confused. This is most apparent in the cases of the two

great divisions, or nations, which inhabited the Yemen, the weaker of

which, at times, finding similarity between names, claimed descent from a

common ancestor with the stronger, until by force of time no clear line

of division was possible in many cases.

Although there can be little doubt of a prehistoric and almost

pretraditional race inhabiting Southern Arabia, the only record worthy of

acceptance from native sources of their existence is their mention in the

Koran. No traditions exist as to them amongst the people to-day, or even

amongst those Arab historians of the middle ages who made special studies

of the subject.

The inhabitants of Southern Arabia may be divided into two great stems,

to which the names of Yemenite and Ishmaelite tribes have been very

properly given.

The Yemenite nation are the direct descendants of Kahtan, generally

identified with Joktan of the Jewish Scriptures, of the line of Shem, the

son of Noah, another of whose descendants, Hazarmaveth, gave his name to

what is to-day known as Hadramaut.

The second great division into which the inhabitants of the Yemen may be

divided are the descendants of Adnan, who was of the family of Ishmael,

son of Abraham: although unfortunately the connecting links are absent,

yet in spite of this there can be no doubt as to the fact. This Adnan

is said to have been the contemporary of Bukht Nasser, in other words

Nebuchadnezzar;[11] and it was the fierce wars waged by this monarch,

tradition relates, that drove the Ishmaelite tribes to seek refuge

amongst the Yemenite peoples. If this be the case, it is a marvellous

fact that two nations inhabiting the same country for such an enormous

period of time, and for the last twelve or thirteen hundred years united

in religious ideas, are able to-day to speak with any certainty as to

which branch they belong. Yet such is the case, with the exception of

certain Arab tribes who claim descent from Kahtan, the mistake arising

through certain similarities of names to be found amongst his descendants

and those of Adnan.

Each of these two divisions of the population are again split up into

sections, though in the case of the Yemenites such is not to be found

until the days of Himyar, son of Abd esh-shems and great-grandson of

Kahtan. It is unnecessary here to enumerate the tribes still existing

which claim to have sprung from the family of Himyar, more than to

mention the three principal ancestors on which their claims are based.

These are respectively Himyar himself, and Malik and Arib, sons of Zayd,

son of Kahtan, son of Abd esh-shems.

The family of Ishmael are likewise split up into many tribes, claiming

descent from three separate members of the posterity of Abraham—namely,

El-Yas, Kays Aylan, and Rabiah.

There yet remains another section which cannot be passed over without

notice, as commentators differ as to from which stem they originated.

These are the descendants of Kudaah. While some protest that their

ancestor was Himyar, son of Abd esh-shems, others claim that they are of

Ishmaelite descent, and ought to be enrolled under the heading of Arab

tribes. It is more than possible that in their case an early amalgamation

took place between the two stocks, and individuals adopted as their

ancestor whichever of the founders of the parties it best suited their

interests to put forward.

Such, then, was the origin of the two nations which to-day, still to be

distinguished from one another by their traditions of ancestry, form the

population of the Yemen.

Although there is no reason to doubt the genuineness of these traditions,

and in fact everything points to their being authentic, the next period

with which we come in contact is no longer a traditional one, but has

been handed down to us in monuments and inscriptions still existing. The

knowledge we have upon this period of the history of the Yemen is due to

the aforementioned Dr Edouard Glaser, who has successfully translated

over a thousand inscriptions, with the result of practically proving

the existence of two separate great dynasties that in succession held

sway over the country. In so doing, what was commonly believed to have

been the fact until his discoveries were made has been disproved, and an

entirely new epoch in the history of the world brought to light. I refer

to the dominion of the Minæan and Sabæan kings. It is, too, from these

records that there has been found to have existed, contemporarily with

early Egyptian times, a remarkable state of civilisation and commerce

in the Yemen, and what was wrongly believed to have been in early

pre-Islamic days a country of savagery, has been proved to have contained

a cultured population, skilled in art and excelling in commerce.

This fact doubtless to no small degree influenced the history of the

civilisation of the ancient world.

The earlier of the two great dynasties which at different epochs held

sway over the Yemen, if not also over the surrounding coasts of Africa,

was that of the Minæans, who are known in tradition as the Maïn.

Thirty-two names of kings of this dynasty have already been discovered;

and as a proof of the immense power they must have held, tablets

commemorative of their wars have been found as far removed from the

seat of their government as Teima, on the road from Damascus to Sinai;

while an inscription from Southern Arabia renders thanks to Astarte for

their escape from the ruler of Egypt and their safe return to their

own city of Quarnu. This votive tablet was erected by the governors of

Tsar and Ashur, which again speaks for the immense tract of country

owing allegiance to the Minæan king; for of these places one has been

identified as being situated near where the Suez Canal now passes. This

extension of frontier was doubtless owing to the great importance of the

trade-routes from East to West, the possession of which in later times

brought the otherwise unimportant Jewish kingdom so much to the fore.

But more important, perhaps, than the discovery that these peoples were

living in a state of considerable civilisation, and carrying on most

profitable commerce, is the fact of their knowledge of writing; for many

of the recently discovered inscriptions in the Yemen date from a period

contemporary with Egyptian hieroglyphics and Chaldæan cuneiform, and

earlier than any known inscription in the Phœnician characters.

Following upon the Minæan dynasty, of which, as before stated, thirty-two

kings are known by name, is that of the Sabæans: yet the nature of

the inscriptions shows that a very considerable period of time must

have elapsed between the two; for whereas, in the earlier specimens of

writing, full grammatical forms are found, the latter is not nearly

so complete. Yet the Sabæan dynasty can be traced back with certainty

to the time of Solomon, one thousand years B.C., and there is every

reason to believe that they had been in power at that time for a very

considerable period. How very remote, then, must be the antiquity of the

preceding dynasty, which we know to have been separated from the latter

by a sufficient lapse of years to have allowed of radical changes in the

formation and grammar of their written language! Besides which, although

comparatively few inscriptions have been discovered of this period, we

have a list of no less than thirty-two Minæan sovereigns. Professor

Sayce, in an able article upon this subject, states that he believes

that it is quite possible that inscriptions may be discovered which will

prove Southern Arabia to have been in a state of civilisation in the

days of Sargon I., or even of Menes, who is supposed to have lived some

five thousand years B.C.: nay more, he expresses his opinion, which many

traditions tend to prove, that all civilisation may have sprung from the

Yemen and its adjacent provinces.[12]

Apart from the great interest attending this alone, another point must at

once attract our attention—namely, the existence of an alphabet earlier

than that of the oldest discovered Phœnician inscriptions. Until these

researches into the writings of the Yemen, it was believed that the

Phœnician formation of letters was an abridgment of the hieroglyphics of

Egypt; but there seems now to be reason to suppose that this still more

ancient writing of Southern Arabia may prove to be not only the source

from which the Phœnicians derived their alphabet, but also the origin of

those of all modern nations, including Greece and Rome. What may be said

almost to prove this theory, says Professor Sayce, is the fact that while

the Phœnician letters, described by name as animals and things, have but

little resemblance to the object from which the name is taken, this still

older form of Semitic writing bears a decided resemblance to the objects

described in the names of the Phœnician letters.

Probable as all this is, it must remain for the time at least only a

theory, until further discoveries are forthcoming; but apart from all

suppositious matters, it may safely be stated that, be the Aryan origin

what it may, it is to Southern Arabia that we must look for the home of

the Semitic peoples. Referring back to the earlier paragraphs of this

chapter, in which mention is made of the two great divisions of the

inhabitants of the Yemen, it will be seen that the tradition existed

in the time of Mahammed, and is mentioned in the Koran, of an older

population, whom it may be inferred were the original Semitic stock,—for

it must be remembered that the present geographical position of the

Semitic races is almost entirely owing to the spread of Islam, and it is

to Arabia, and Arabia alone, that we must look for their origin,—at a

time preceding the first Minæan kings, and probably at a period when the

stone age was passing into that of metal, and fishers and hunters were

becoming traders and agriculturists.[13] But of all the incidents of the

ancient history of the Yemen, there is one that will especially appeal

to all. I refer to the visit of the Queen of Sheba to Solomon about the

year one thousand B.C. Sheba has always been identified with Saba, the

capital of the Sabæan empire, a city lying some seven days’ journey to

the north-east of Sanaa, the present capital of Turkish Yemen. The story

is too well known to need any comment here; it need only be noticed that

the point it is written from is that of a Jewish historian, who would

naturally tend to magnify the glories of Solomon and the admiration of

the queen at his wonderful city, palace, and temple. Yet, as a matter of

fact, it is not at all improbable that Saba possessed buildings as fine

as any of those of Solomon; and certainly, whereas no ruins remain of

the latter, the great dam, built some seventeen hundred years B.C. at

Saba, still stands, though of course in ruins, to tell the tale of the

vast building powers of the Sabæan architects. Nor do we in the gorgeous

description of Solomon’s works find reference to anything that could

possibly have compared in size and structure with this extraordinary

_barrage_, of which it is sufficient to say that it measured three

hundred cubits thick, one hundred and twenty feet high, and two _miles_

in length.[14] The presents which the Queen of Sheba brought to Solomon

tend as much as anything to prove that she was a native of Southern

Arabia, for her offerings will be found either to be produce of that

country, or such articles as could, owing to the enormous commerce of

Saba, find an outlet in that direction from farther south and east.

Although the already discovered inscriptions point to Saba having been

the capital of a great and civilised empire eight hundred years B.C.,

the existence of the great dam, which may be attributed to Lokman, who

lived 1750 years B.C., and the visit of the Queen of Sheba to Solomon,

speak of greater antiquity.

The religion of the Sabæans is too large a question to attempt here,

more especially as there are evidences that during the long periods of

the Minæan and Sabæan dynasties it underwent many changes, merging from

a primitive idolatry into worship of the planets and stars, and even,

in cases, to the recognition of a supreme deity. They believed in the

immortality of the soul, a future state of reward or punishment, and

many also in transmigration. The gradual change of doctrine appreciable

in the religion, besides being due to the natural outcome of increased

civilisation and culture, was no doubt largely influenced by the

astronomers and astrologers of Chaldæa. Doubtless, too, there existed in

their religious traditions a sort of hero-worship, for we read in various

authorities of certain names as being those of deities and of men. Thus

we find the city of Saba was called after a god of that name, while again

the founder is mentioned as being Saba the son of Abd esh-shems, the

father of the so-called Himyaric dynasty.

[Illustration: ANCIENT TANK AT MENURA, NEAR DHAMAR.]

Any attempt, with the space at disposal here, to draw conclusions from

the traditions existing as to the earliest inhabitants of the Yemen, is

out of the question; and rather than do so, it will better suit our

purpose to keep to what have been proved to be facts—the existence of

the Minæan and later the Sabæan dynasties; the high state of culture and

commerce in Southern Arabia at a very remote period; and the existence

of a written language that was possibly, if not probably, the origin of

Phœnician, and so of all European forms of writing; and the still greater

idea that Southern Arabia may be proved to be the land of “Punt,” and the

birthplace of the Egyptian race, and their arts and culture.

Shortly before the commencement of the Christian era Egypt became a Roman

province, and a few years later an expedition under Ælius Gallus was

sent to explore Arabia and Ethiopia. How difficult would be the task was

evidently realised, for when the expedition started from Cleopatris, near

the modern Suez, it consisted of no less than eighty vessels of war and a

hundred and thirty transports, with ten thousand Roman troops and fifteen

thousand mercenaries.[15] But the expedition was destined to disaster,

for although it penetrated as far as Southern Arabia—probably Nejrán—the

troops were decimated by famine and disease, and only a small handful

ever returned.

In looking through these early pages of the history of the Yemen, one

cannot but be struck with the important part that women played in

politics; and even after the introduction of Islam, and the women had

been assigned a lower position, the old custom crops up again and again,

and we find women seizing the reins of government.

The first example that we find of the power exercised by women is without

doubt the Queen of Sheba; while a second example follows within a few

years after the failure of the expedition of Ælius Gallus, in the person

of Queen Balkis, whose real name was Belkama or Yalkama, and who was

sufficiently strong-minded to amalgamate two kingdoms by marrying her

rival, whom she immediately removed by poison.

About A.D. 120 the great dam of Saba or Mareb burst, spreading wholesale

destruction throughout the wide fertile valley below it. About this

period, too, an expedition was carried by the then King Tubba el-Akran as

far as Samarcand, and thence into China; and in A.D. 206, Abou Kariba,

one of the most illustrious of all the Himyaric kings, invaded Chaldæa

and defeated the Tartars of Adirbijan. He started on a second expedition

to conquer Syria, but returned after taking the Hejaz to the Yemen, where

he is said to have renounced idolatry and embraced Judaism.

A legend, quoted by Sir Lambert Playfair in his ‘History of the Yemen,’

tells of the introduction of the Jewish faith into the Yemen during the

reign of this Sultan. It savours of the priests of Baal; for, wishing to

put to the test the merits of Judaism and idolatry, the priests of either

creed proceeded to a certain spot whence fire emerged from the ground.

Pushed on by the crowd, the test was tried, and while the Jewish priests

passed through the flame unscathed, the idolaters perished. But the

feeling between the two was by no means destined from this fact to become

a cordial one, and constant fights occurred between the two parties.

Although Christianity seems to have appeared in the Yemen previous to

the year 297 A.D., it was not until that date that it became a religion

of importance in the country. It was during the reign of the king Tubba

ibn Hassan, who held the throne at this period, that Christianity was

introduced into Abyssinia; and about the middle half of the fourth

century the Emperor Constantius sent a certain bishop, Theophilus Indus,

to convert the Yemenis, of whom the king was so far tolerant, even if he

did not himself embrace Christianity, to allow the building of churches.

One was erected at Zafar, near Yerim; another at Aden; and a third at a

port in the Arabian Sea, supposed generally to be Hormuzd.

So king succeeded king with the usual rapidity of oriental countries,

until in 478 A.D. a certain Lakhnia (or Lakhtiaa) Tanú usurped the

throne, whose cruelties to the surviving members of the royal family

are recorded by more than one historian. However, it remained for one

of these, a youth by name Asaad abou Karib, or Dhu Nowas, to revenge

his relations by stabbing the usurper with a dagger, he himself being

unanimously elected to the throne. He embraced Judaism, and adopted the

name of Yusef (Joseph). However, like many converts, he became a fanatic,

and his cruelties toward the Christians are perhaps unparalleled in

history. Dhu Nowas attacked them in Nejrán, and having foully broken his

promise that no harm should befall them, gave them the choice between

death or Judaism. Twenty thousand, it is said, were burned alive in huge

pits filled with blazing wood. The Koran commends these people who died

for their religion, and calls a curse upon their persecutor.[16]

But the cruelty of Dhu Nowas was to reap its reward. A few Christians

who escaped fled to the Court of the Christian emperor of the East,

who presented them with letters to the Christian king of Abyssinia,

requesting him to punish the perpetrator of these cruel outrages.

In A.D. 525, accordingly, the Abyssinians invaded the Yemen, and Dhu

Nowas was defeated, being drowned, purposely, it is said, after the first

battle. From that moment the Abyssinian general Aryat met with but futile

resistance, and pushed into the heart of the country, destroying and

razing the cities as he went along.

Thus was overthrown, never to rise again, the Himyaric dynasty, which had

held the throne of the Yemen for over two thousand years. Many of the

kings had been celebrated both for war and culture, but their ancestors

were now, on account of their fanatical persecution of the Christians,

in return to suffer from cruelties and oppression as severe as any they

themselves had ever practised.

It is but one of the many examples of the terrible bloodshed consequent

upon diversity of opinion on religious subjects,—for with bloodshed did

Christianity force itself into the Yemen, and with bloodshed was it

destined a few years later to disappear. Aryat, having conquered the

Yemen, was appointed Viceroy of the King of Abyssinia in that country,

and reigned until nearly the middle half of the sixth century, being

succeeded by Abrahá, in fighting with whom Aryat was slain.

Meanwhile, by every means of cruelty and oppression Christianity had been

pushed forward; but at length a bishop was appointed at Zafar, whose

name is to-day included in the calendar of saints as St Gregentius,

who persuaded Abrahá to adopt more lenient measures than those of his

predecessor; and even the Arab authors acknowledge him to have been

a just and compassionate prince. That he was, however, a fanatic is

certain; for the church at Sanaa having been defiled by an Arab from

Mecca, where for centuries the Kaabah had been a place of pilgrimage, he

vowed to destroy that place, and at the head of a great army marched into

the Hejaz. Approaching Mecca, the inhabitants fled; but Abrahá, mounted

upon his famous white elephant Mahmoud, failed,—for it is said not

only did the huge pachyderm refuse to turn toward the city, but that a

miraculous flight of birds dropped pebbles upon the heads of the invading

army, killing both men and elephants. This miracle is generally explained

as an epidemic of smallpox: however, be it what it may, it ended in the

total rout and flight of the Abyssinian troops, who in a miserable plight

resought the Yemen, where shortly afterwards Abrahá died.

This “battle of the elephant,” as the Arab historians called it, is

doubly famous, as it happened in the year of the birth of Mahammed.

But the Abyssinian rule was soon to end. Acts of tyranny and cruelty

hurried on its termination, and Jaskum, the last sovereign, died in 575

A.D., when the ancestors of the Himyaric dynasty, certain of being unable

to regain the throne for themselves, and having failed to persuade the

Romans to take up their cause, implored the aid of the Persian monarch

Kesra, who after many delays fitted out an expedition, formed for the

most part of convicts from the prisons, which reached Aden, under the

personal conduct of a descendant of Himyar, Maadi Karib, and a Persian

general of the name of Wahraz. A battle ensued with the Abyssinians, in

which their monarch—for the Viceroys had by this time taken imperial

rights—was killed. Sanaa was reached, and the gates broken down to allow

the Persian conqueror to enter with uplifted banners, and Maadi Karib

was proclaimed viceroy, paying tribute and owning allegiance to the

Persian sovereign.

The event of the return of a descendant of Himyar to power is celebrated

by many an Arab historian and poet.

Amongst many other ambassadors and men of repute who flocked to the

court at Sanaa, after the overthrow of Christianity, was the grandfather

of Mahammed, Abd el-Mutalib, who was received with special honours, as

belonging to the powerful tribe of the Koreish, lords of Mecca. But

Maadi Karib was destined to fall a victim to Abyssinian treachery, being

murdered by his body-guard, which consisted of javelin-throwers of

Habesh. A state of anarchy ensued, in which the natives struggled with

the Abyssinians for the supreme power; and finally the Persian monarch

Kesra Paruiz was forced to send an expedition, which proved entirely

successful. But bloodshed was the result, and the Abyssinians were put

to the sword with great cruelty, even the half-breed children being

slaughtered.

Great as was the number of the slain, both the Abyssinian and Persian

occupation has left its mark in the Yemen, and a particular and despised

race exists there to-day known as the Akhdam.[17] Authorities differ

as to whether they are the descendants of the Abyssinians or Persians;

but so closely did one occupation follow upon the other that it may be

reasonably supposed that, owing to the youth of the children at the time,

and the rapidity with which both nationalities died out of the country,

but little distinction would exist, in spite of diversity of colour,

between the two.

Meanwhile the Persian rule was for a time fairly established, though

many tribes were almost entirely governed by their own local chiefs.

All religions were tolerated, and Christianity maintained its ground,

principally in Nejrán, and we find mention amongst early authorities of

a Christian bishop of that province, Kos by name. It was probably in his

time that a Christian Church was erected in Nejrán.

At this period a great change was to take place in the religion and

government of Arabia, for there had arisen at Mecca a prophet, Mahammed

by name, of the tribe of the Koreish, who was destined to influence not

only all Arabia but the whole history of the world.

CHAPTER III.

THE YEMEN SINCE THE HEJIRA.

Mahammed was destined to overthrow the whole social and religious status

of Arabia. But the Yemen was by no means anxious at the first to accept

the new doctrine, and for a time remained steadfast to the Persian cause

and religion, under the viceroyalty of Budhan, who, though eventually he

accepted the faith of Islam, hesitated until pressure was brought to bear

upon him, and until he had obtained, to him, satisfactory evidence of the

Prophet’s miracles.

The dissensions at this period existing amongst the Christians of

the Yemen added not a little to the success of the spread of the new

religion. Yet in these first days of conversion every leniency was shown

to the Christians, and a treaty was made between the princes of Nejrán,

which, it may be remembered, was the stronghold of Christianity in the

Yemen, and Mahammed himself, very advantageous to the former, one of the

clauses stipulating that tolerance was to be allowed, and no Christians

forcibly converted to Islam.

But the Prophet had fixed his heart on the conversion of Arabia Felix,

and for this purpose, in the tenth year of the Hejira, Ali ibn Abou

Taleb, his son-in-law and nephew, was despatched thither. Failing by

moderate means to bring over the people, the sword was resorted to; but

in spite of this fact, authorities state that Islam was grafted in the

country with the loss of only some twenty lives.

But its course was to be by no means a smooth one, for amongst several

other pretenders two arose at the same period, 632 A.D., who laid claim

to the prophetic office. Both had been converts to Islam, and one at

least had actually seen Mahammed, and it was no doubt the report of his

enormous success that stirred these men to rival his claims.

The first, Mosailma by name, was a chief of the tribe of Hanífa. Being of

a diplomatic turn of mind, he thought to make an alliance with Mahammed,

and a correspondence took place between the two, worthy of repetition

here. The letters ran as follows:—

“From Mosailma, the Prophet of God, to Mahammed, the Prophet of God! Let

the earth be half mine and half thine.”

Mahammed’s answer was short but to the point:—

“From Mahammed, the Prophet of God, to Mosailma, the Liar. The earth

belongs to God. He giveth it as an inheritance to such of his servants as

pleaseth him, and the happy issue shall attend such as fear him.”

But Mosailma was not to be discouraged by this reply, and continued his

career until, shortly after the death of Mahammed, his successor the

Caliph Abou Bekr sent an expedition under a certain general Khalid to

attack him. In a battle near Akriba Mosailma was slain, and his followers

disbanded; who, seeing their leader die, once more reverted to Islam.

The second impostor was El-Aswad, chief of the tribe of Anis. He had

previously been an idolater, but had become a convert to the Mahammedan

faith. Meeting at first with every success, he installed himself at

Sanaa, and nearly the whole of the Yemen acknowledged his authority. But

at the instigation of Mahammed, who was at this time still alive, he was

treacherously slain by his wife and accomplices.

These two impostors, although their career did not to any extent

permanently affect the history of the Yemen, are celebrated throughout

Arab traditions, in which they are known as “The Liars.”

But the troubles in the Yemen were by no means at an end. Every preceding

dynasty had left dissension and rival blood in the country, and for a

long period, during the reign of the early Caliphs, the country was

constantly disturbed with war and bloodshed. Pretender to the throne

followed pretender, and it was not for a period of some years that any

tranquillity was restored to the Yemen.

In A.D. 655 Ali succeeded to the Caliphate on the death of Othman, and

having to quell many disturbances and dissensions at home, he did not

for some time turn his attention to the Yemen, where, after a lapse in

the war between Muavia, governor of Syria, and the Caliph, a large band

of the troops of the former, under the leadership of Bashir ibn Ardeb,

carried out the most horrible atrocities on the partisans of the cause

of Ali. But revenge was near, and a short time later—39 A.H.—troops

to the number of four thousand were despatched by Ali from Kufa, who

equalled perhaps the cruelties of Muavia’s adherents; but they succeeded

in stamping out the cause of Othman, the lately assassinated Caliph,

and Ali’s son was proclaimed governor of the Yemen. Islam had by this

period made such a firm footing in the country, that, in spite of the

dissensions between Christians, idolaters, and Jews, we find the troubles

confined almost entirely to the many sects of Islam itself. Some of the

most important of these will be found mentioned elsewhere, so that no

reference is necessary to them here, except as showing how firm a hold

the acceptance of the new religion had gained amongst the inhabitants of

the Yemen.

The country after the death of Ali became subject to the Omeyyad dynasty

of Caliphs, until in A.D. 749 the Abbasides exterminated them, with

unparalleled bloodshed and cruelty, the conquest of the Yemen being

carried out by Mahammed Abousi Mahammed. The typical cruelty of this

man is well exemplified by a paragraph in Sir R. L. Playfair’s ‘History

of the Yemen.’ Finding the inhabitants suffering from what is now known

as “Yemen boils,” an exceedingly common complaint in that country, he

ordered all those who showed any signs of the sickness to be buried alive

as unclean. Happily his own death prevented this cruel order from being

carried out. Sharing the ups and downs of the Abbaside dynasty, to whom

the Yemen acknowledged a varying system of vassalage, in 811 A.D. the

inhabitants declared for El-Mamun, son of Harun el-Rashid, the great

Caliph of the East, who was sharing with his brother Amin the government.

Under this Caliph the governor of the Yemen was Mahammed, son of Ziad.

He conquered the Teháma, or western plains, and became sovereign of the

whole country.

There remained at this period a tribe of the name of Beni Yafur,

descendants of the old Himyaric kings, who lived at Sanaa. Acknowledging

the Abbaside Caliphs, they were by force obliged to fall under the

jurisdiction of Ibn Ziad; but Asaad ibn Yafur, the last of the family,

took advantage of the Karmathian rising throughout the Yemen to usurp

the power, which he held until his death. He was the last prince of the

Himyaric people; and although his family held the throne for a few years

they never arrived at any great power, their position being materially

weakened by insurrections and family strifes.

Ibn Ziad having died, and been succeeded by several members of his

family, Abou’l-Jaysh his grandson came to the throne. On the death of

the Caliph El-Mutawakil and the abdication of El-Mustain, he disclaimed

all allegiance to the Caliphate, and took to himself regal honours,

though there seems to be some apparent discord as to dates, for the

assassination and abdication of the Caliphs occurred before Abou’l-Jaysh

came to the throne. Probably he was the first to assume regal power,

although his immediate predecessors had ceased paying tribute to the

Caliphs.[18]

Apparently Abou’l-Jaysh was a man of great power, and by the time of his

death he was master of the whole of the Yemen, while his revenues reached

an enormous sum. It was during his reign that the Zaidite dynasty sprung

up. The foundation of what afterwards was the principal line of the

Imams, or Sultans of the Yemen, is not without interest. Although to-day

ousted from power by the Turks, the leader of the late rebellion was no

less a personage than a descendant of the great family who in A.H. 288

(A.D. 901) founded at Sadah the Zaidite dynasty. As of the direct family

of the prophet Mahammed, it may be interesting to trace the line from

the founder of Islam to Yahya, who returned to the Yemen from India in

288 A.H. to announce the supremacy of the Zaidis. This is best done by a

short genealogical tree.

MAHAMMED.

|

Fatima and Ali.

|

Hasan.

|

Hasan.

|

Ibrahim.

|

Ismail.

|

Ibrahim.

Tabátabá.

|

Kasim er-Rassi.

|

Huseyn.

|

El-Hadi Yahya.

(D. 298 A.H.)

Although Yahya succeeded in wresting Sanaa from Asaad ibn Yafur, he was

unable to hold it, and eventually returned to Sadah, where descendants of

his family are to-day living.

From this period we find a constant rise and fall of dynasties. While

Imams alternately held and lost authority, there were springing up,

generally to disappear, princes in many parts of the country, so that at

times the Yemen was divided into a number of principalities. Celebrated

amongst these were the Sulayhites and the Zurayites, of whom the latter

for centuries held possession of the southern province of Aden. But,

meanwhile, in the north the Imams were succeeding one another with the

usual rapidity of oriental sovereigns, and with very varied authority. In

the fifth century A.H. we find the Abyssinian line again in possession of

Zebeed, at this time the principal city of the Teháma.

Meanwhile the Zaidi family of Rassites continued to govern at Sadah

without serious interruption.

In 1173 A.D. the then reigning Sultan of Sanaa surrendered his power to

Turan Shah, brother of Salah ed-din (Saladdin), the Ayyubite Caliph of

Egypt; and Ali, son of the Sultan El-Mansur Hatim, was nominated governor

of that city.

It would be out of place here to trace the long lines of governors and

rulers who dominated the Yemen during the next two centuries. A few

names, however, are remembered to-day, and mentioned by authorities as

being men of great power or culture. The first is El-Muzaffer, who united

for the time at least all the Yemen under his sway, and who died at the

end of the thirteenth century; and again, Abdul-Wahab, who reigned early

in the sixteenth century, and founded many colleges at Sanaa, Taiz, and

Zebeed, and built a number of cisterns and aqueducts at places where

water was scarce.

During the next period of the history of the Yemen, we come in contact

for the first time with European traders and the Turks, who were destined

in no small degree to influence the future of the country.

About the year 1445 A.D. the Christian king of Abyssinia sent a mission

to Florence, and a famous missive to the priests of Jerusalem. This

king is well known to history from these two acts alone, and to-day is

celebrated as Prester John. Whether his embassy stirred the religious

zeal or the cupidity of Europe it is difficult to say, but it resulted,

whatever its cause may have been, in a Portuguese expedition to the far

East, which eventually ended in the leader, De Covilham, marrying and

settling in Shoa.

I think there is but little need here to repeat the adventures of many

European expeditions that were sent at various periods to visit this

portion of the globe. Such as refer more immediately to Aden will be

found mentioned in the chapter on that possession, while I have elsewhere

referred to the “factories” at Mokha.

Early in the sixteenth century the Mamlook power in Egypt was overthrown

by the Sultan Selim I., upon which event the larger portion of the

Arabian states went over to the new cause. This Selim was desirous

of himself leading an expedition for the conquest of Arabia, but was

obliged to abandon the idea on account of ill health; nor did he ever

recover sufficiently to carry out his purpose. His son, Suleiman the

Magnificent, was equally intent upon the conquest of India, and for

this purpose fitted out a fleet in A.D. 1520. On the 27th June 1538 the

fleet left Suez, and Aden was reached a few months later, and the town

was taken. Proceeding to India, Suleiman Pasha was forced to retire on

being attacked by the Viceroy of Goa, and returned to Aden, where he

left sufficient troops to garrison the town, and proceeded to Mokha,

whence messengers were sent to Zebeed with the demand that the governor

of that city should at once proceed to the coast. The Arab’s refusal

to comply with this order cost him his life, for a few months later

Zebeed was taken, and a number of its inhabitants put to the sword. This

completed the conquests of Suleiman the Magnificent, and all the coast of

Arabia acknowledged the Turkish rule, Sanaa itself becoming the seat of

the Pasha of the Yemen. But although firmly rooted in the country, the

Turkish forces were unable to extract tribute from the numerous tribes,

many of which remained practically independent. A revolt occurred at Aden

in 1551, which was, however, put down by Peri Pasha, who wrested the

town from the Portuguese, to whom it had been handed over by its Arab

inhabitants.

Eight years later a still greater rebellion broke out throughout the

whole of the Yemen. However, the Turks, under Hasan Pasha, were able to

quell it, and continue their rule in the country.

At the beginning of the seventeenth century the English appear for the

first time in this part of the world, the first ship to trade in the Red

Sea being the East India Company’s vessel Ascension, Captain Sharpey,

who, however, failed in his desire to establish commercial relations

between the two countries. This voyage was followed by several others,

but of these mention will be found in the chapter relating to Aden.

In 1630 the Turks withdrew from the Yemen, and the government fell into

the hands of a descendant of Ali ibn Abou Taleb, who married Fatima,

the daughter of the Prophet Mahammed. This man was by name Kasim, whose

full titles were Mansur el-Kasim el-Kebir. His ancestor, El-Hadi Yahia,

had founded the Rassite dynasty in 284 A.H. The family of Kasim, which

now commenced to hold the government of the Yemen, continued until the

conquest of Sanaa by the Turks in 1872 to fill the posts of Imams.[19]

A few words are necessary in explanation of this title, by which the

rulers of the Yemen have been so long known. The word Imam literally

means the leader of prayer in the mosque. Thus it will be seen that the

office was not merely a temporal one, but was also imbued with religious

rights, enjoyed on account of their descent from the Prophet. Not daring

to assume the title of “Caliph,” they preferred the minor one “Imam,”

though practically by carrying out the old-established customs, such as

changing their names on succeeding to power, they took upon themselves

the position enjoyed by the direct successors of Mahammed himself. The

office was a hereditary one, and generally succeeded to by primogeniture,

provided the eldest son was of an age and character suitable to his being

able to carry out the necessary duties.

Niebuhr gives an interesting account of the principal officers in the

service of the Imams, a portion of which may be mentioned here.[20] The

various provinces were, he says, under the governorship of a “Dowla,”

or military governor, who was responsible for his district, collected

the taxes, commanded the troops, and regulated all local affairs. It was

customary for a man only to hold the office for a few years, in order

to prevent his acquiring great wealth or influence. Their position was

always an uncertain one, as they necessarily made many enemies, who

were ready to do them some ill turn at headquarters. The Bas-Katéb was

secretary, appointed by the Imam, under each, whose principal work was to

spy upon and report to their lord and ruler the actions of the “Dowla.”

As ordained by the tenets of Islam, all cases relating to laws laid down

in the Koran were tried by the Cadi, or chief judge. The ports were

under the rule of three officers,—an Amir el-Bahr, or captain of the

port; an Amir es-Sôk, whose duty lay in regulating the markets; and a

Sheikh el-Beled, who collected the taxes. El-Kasim was succeeded by his

son El-Muayyad Mahammed, who in turn was succeeded by his brother Ismail,

who lived a life of supreme simplicity, and died after a long reign,

mourned by the whole country.

So Imam succeeded Imam with all the changing fortunes of oriental rulers,

and without apparently performing any deeds which redound to their own

praise or raised the splendour of their country. In all probability their

lives were simply spent in Eastern uxoriousness, and in keeping in order

the turbulent tribes by which they were surrounded.

In 1709 the French appeared for the first time in the Red Sea, and

carried out a treaty with the governor of Mokha, on behalf of the then

Imam El-Mehdi. The principal clauses referred to religious toleration,

the duties on merchandise, and that redress should be given for any

insults offered to French subjects.[21] In spite of this treaty in 1738

Mokha was bombarded by the French, on account of debts owing to the

traders by the governor of that city. The town was taken, but handed back

to the Imam on the payment of the debt. This ended in the drawing up of a

second treaty, somewhat reducing the duty chargeable on the imports and

exports.

For the next twenty years affairs in the Yemen remained in a state

of tolerable peace. From time to time tribes raised the standard of

independence; but there seems to have been no organised attack upon the

Imams, although the family was continually engaged in intrigue as to

the succession. However, in 1758 a serious rebellion broke out, under a

certain Abd er-Rabi ibn Ahmed, who had been governor of a small province

in the service of the Imam. Abd er-Rabi had made enemies in the household

of the Imam, and at their instigation was recalled. He refused, however,

to obey, whereupon the Imam sent a force of some three thousand men to

bring him. Nevertheless, he was able to hold out within the walls of

Kátaba for no less a period than nearly a year, and eventually made his

escape by night to his followers in the tribe of Hajeriya. Finding it

impossible to capture Abd er-Rabi, the Imam made overtures to the Sultan

of Aden to assist him. Abd er-Rabi hearing of this, entered Lahej and

blockaded Aden. He was destined, however, to fall a victim to an act

of treachery. The Imam was at this period attacking the city of Taiz,

which he was unable to capture, and, hoping to kill two birds with one

stone, invited Abd er-Rabi to join him. This the latter did, and the city

was taken. The Imam, delighted with his success, under the most solemn

protestations of friendship invited him to Sanaa, where on his arrival

he was, after every ignominy had been showered upon him, decapitated.[22]

[Illustration: HOWTA, THE CAPITAL OF LAHEJ.]

In 1762 King Frederick V. of Denmark organised an expedition for the

exploration of Arabia under the leadership of Karsten Niebuhr. With

him were associated three other Danes, who all died either during the

expedition or immediately upon its termination. In spite of the fact that

more than a century has elapsed since this expedition took place, we

have never since been given a clearer or more interesting and valuable

account of the Yemen. The social state of the country is particularly

well described, and no one can overestimate the value of Niebuhr’s work.

He twice interviewed the Imam during his stay at Sanaa, and the second

time greatly interested his royal host by exhibiting and explaining

his scientific instruments. Niebuhr’s account of the Imam and his

surroundings is most interesting, but unfortunately space does not allow

of my giving any extracts here.

In 1770 an attack was made upon the British factory at Mokha. However,

two British men-of-war were sent to the spot, and an indemnity was

paid, which it was found out eventually had been extracted from Indian

merchants, who were, of course, British subjects! The Yemen at this time

had attracted a few European adventurers, who had become Moslems and

entered the service of the Imam. Amongst these was a certain Scotchman

of the name of Campbell, who was commanding the artillery of El-Mehdi

Abbas, the then Imam. A rebellion had burst out in the country, and the

rebels had seized upon a stronghold in the vicinity of Sanaa, in which

was water, and where they had collected a quantity of provisions. Such,

however, was the fear of the natives for the ingenuity of these European

renegades, that they surrendered on hearing that Campbell and his

companions were engaged upon the manufacture of shells—a task they had

neither the means nor the knowledge of carrying to a successful end. The

episode is merely interesting as showing the acknowledgment of the Arabs

of the superiority of the European over themselves in such things—an

allowance readily made to-day by nearly all classes of the Arab world.

In 1799 a British force was sent to cruise in the Red Sea, on account

of the French having taken possession of Egypt; and Perim, an island

situated in the straits of Bab el-Mandeb, was occupied, though, on

account of the scarcity of water, it was only held for a period of four

months.

The trade of the Red Sea with India had up to this period been a very

considerable one, but owing to the misgovernment of the Imams, and

their inability to offer security to traders, it had greatly diminished

in the last few years. On this account Sir Home Popham was sent on a

special mission to the Yemen in 1801, and was nominated Ambassador to

the Southern Arabian states. He arrived at Mokha on his return from

Calcutta in 1802, and set out for Sanaa. However, he reached only as far

as Taiz, and there, as had been the case along the entire route, he was

treated with every ignominy. The Imam protested that the treatment of

the Ambassador had been carried on without his knowledge and contrary to

his orders, and he promised to punish the offenders. In all probability

Ali Mansur, who then held the throne at Sanaa, was entirely unable to

cope with the turbulent tribes, and it is known for certain that from his

extravagances he was always in arrears with the subsidised chiefs of the

neighbouring districts.

I have briefly mentioned elsewhere the Wahabi sect, which, under the

leadership of Abd el-Wahab en-Nejdi, sprang up in the eighteenth century.

It had not, however, seriously made itself felt in the Yemen until this

period, its progress being no doubt largely influenced by the Wahabi

conquest of Mecca and Medina. During the years 1804 and 1805 the Yemen

suffered from continual raids of the Wahabi leaders, for the most part

chiefs of the Beni Asir, the tribes lying between the Hejaz and the Yemen

proper. But treachery was on foot, and certain Shereefs nominally owing

allegiance to the Wahabi doctrine were really working in the interests

of the Imam of Sanaa, and in this manner the marauders were held more or

less in check. Meanwhile the Imam Ali Mansur had been deposed by his son

Ahmed, who had seized the reins of government. But the city of Mokha

refused to acknowledge Ahmed while the old Imam was still alive, and on

that account Ahmed put an expedition into the field against the Dowla of

that town. Happily for the country Ali Mansur died, and the people of

Mokha were then able to acknowledge his son as Imam, and so a disastrous

war was staved off.

So great had become the power of the Wahabis that in 1813 Mahammed Ali

Pasha invaded the Hejaz in the name of Turkey, and restored Mecca and

Medina to the Osmanli Sultan. Thence an envoy was sent to the Imam at

Sanaa, requesting his co-operation in the stamping out of the Wahabis.

This was readily granted, for the Imam evidently saw that Mahammed Ali’s

eyes were turned in the direction of the Yemen; and although he protested

that he himself was devoid of means to carry on warfare, he gave the

envoy letters to the Dowla of Mokha to supply him with vessels and

material, knowing full well that he possessed neither.[23]

In 1814 Mahammed Ali’s troops took the town of Konfoda, north of Lohaya;

but the Asir tribes surprised it a few months later, drove the Turks out,

and seized an enormous quantity of booty and supplies. So worn out were

the Turkish troops with their long campaign that Mahammed Ali was obliged

to abandon his scheme for the taking of the Yemen, and retired to Cairo,

leaving Ibrahim Pasha to continue the campaign, which ended in the

downfall of the Wahabis. The viceroyalty of Ibrahim was marked with every

kind of cruelty and despicable corruption, and his departure from Jeddah

in 1819 was the signal for great rejoicings. Mahammed Ali then carried

out a treaty with the Imam, who, on the condition of paying one hundred

thousand dollars a-year, was to be restored several provinces which he

had lately lost, including Konfoda and Lohaya, which the Turks themselves

had taken.

On account of a brutal attack that was made upon Lieutenant Dommicetti,

at the time confined to his bed with fever, and upon the employees of

the British factory, a force was sent to that place in 1819 to demand

reparation, and a treaty from the Imam, in which certain privileges were

granted to British subjects. Difficulties arose, and in December 1820

Mokha was bombarded by Captain Bruce, and full reparation made by the

governor.

The Porte meanwhile had become uneasy at the great success attending

the campaigns of Mahammed Ali Pasha; and on a Mamlook, Mahammed Agha,

generally known as Turkchee Bilmas, rebelling against Mahammed Ali, the

Sultan of Turkey, hoping to profit through his agency, installed him

governor of the Hejaz. Marching south, Turkchee Bilmas took Hodaidah in

1832. Zebeed was the next city to fall, whence he marched upon Mokha,

which also surrendered; but the tide changed, and a year later Mokha

alone remained in Turkchee Bilmas’ hands, where he was attacked by a

large force by sea, under Ahmed Pasha, and by some 20,000 of the Asir

tribes by land. In the attack upon the city Turkchee Bilmas escaped to

the East India Company’s vessel Tigris, and was conveyed in her to Bombay.

In 1837 the Imam’s uncle, Seyed Kasim, treacherously sold Taiz to the

Egyptians; but their power there was of short duration, for in 1840 the

Egyptians evacuated the Yemen, which thereupon became distracted with

strife. Although Ibrahim Pasha had previously agreed to hand over the

Teháma to Mahammed ibn Oun, Shereef of Mecca, he was not successful, for

a Shereef of the Abou Arish disputed its possession. The Shereef of Mecca

therefore despatched troops to the coast, who occupied Hodaidah the very

day the Pasha left it, but only to hold it for a very short time, for a

month later the Asir tribe entered the town. Shereef Huseyn, brother of

Mahammed el-Meccawi, assumed the governorship of Mokha, and commenced to

ill-treat the British subjects there, at the same time demanding, in an

insulting letter, the surrender of Aden.[24]

The Imam was not at first able to attend to these matters, as a religious

rebellion had broken out under the leadership of a fanatic, El-Faki Saïd,

who called himself “Medhi el-Mantether.” But as soon as this impostor

had been attacked and killed, the Imam turned his attention to the

Teháma. Failing in obtaining the aid of the British, it appears that both

he and her Majesty’s Government referred the matter to Constantinople,

with the result that a commissioner was sent by the Porte to confer

with the Shereef. However, he appears, says Playfair in his notes upon

the subject, to have been bribed by Shereef Huseyn, and returned to

Constantinople with but little accomplished. The result, however, of his

mission became apparent a year later, when the Sultan appointed him Pasha

of the Teháma, on the understanding that he paid a tribute of 70,000

dollars per annum to the Porte.

[Illustration: _A Native of the Teháma._]

The Imam, El-Hadi Mahammed, died in 1844, and was succeeded by Ali

Mansur, who had been formerly deposed, and whose great idea seemed to

be to retrieve the losses his predecessors had suffered. Fighting at

once commenced, but the Imam’s troops met with but little success, and

smallpox carried off a very considerable number. A rebellion broke out a

few months later, the Imam was deposed, and his cousin, Mahammed Yahya,

placed on the throne in his stead. Desirous of carrying out the scheme

of his predecessor for the recovery of the Teháma, he took the field and

finally routed the Shereef Huseyn at Bajil, near Hodaidah, the Shereef

himself being taken prisoner. Hodaidah, Zebeed, and Beit el-Fakih were

handed over to the Imam, and shortly afterwards he captured Mokha,

where he learned that another division of the Shereef Huseyn’s army had

retaken Zebeed. The Imam fled to Sanaa, and a few weeks later Mokha fell

once more into the hands of Huseyn. The Turks, seeing the opportunity

a suitable one to push their interests in Southern Arabia, sent an

expedition to Hodaidah, on the arrival of which the Shereef Huseyn handed

over the place to the new-comers. The Imam was compelled to visit the

Pasha at Hodaidah, and a treaty was signed, the principal clauses of

which were as follows:—

1. The country governed by the Imam was to continue under his

jurisdiction, but he was himself to be considered as a vassal to the

Porte.

2. The revenues of the country were to be equally divided between the

Porte and the Imam.

3. Sanaa was to be garrisoned with a thousand regular Turkish troops.

4. The Imam was to receive 37,000 dollars per month from the revenue

previous to its division.[25]

Both the Turks and the Imam suffered, however, from the results of this

treaty—the former by being almost annihilated on their arrival at Sanaa,

the latter by being deposed and murdered. The power of the Imams was

gone; the Turks, although driven out of the highlands of the Yemen,

retained their footing on the coast, and carried on desultory warfare in

many directions. The country, after years of war and bloodshed, remained

in a state of anarchy, and the descendants of the great Imams seemed to

lose all spirit and authority. They sank into private life at Sanaa,

giving themselves up to luxury and vice; and the greatness of the Yemen

was finished.

CHAPTER IV.

THE INFLUENCES OF ISLAM IN THE YEMEN.

Before entering upon any account of the various religious influences

that have since the time of Mahammed disturbed the Yemen, it may be

as well to put aside a few pages for some general remarks upon the

religion of Islam, the tenets of which are well known enough to those

who have made any study of the subject, but are to the general world

almost a closed book. It is this disregard of religions other than our

own which so weakens the constant cry of their inferiority. Rather it

should be the desire of such as wish to uphold Christianity to carefully

study and compare its doctrines with those of the beliefs they are so

ready to cry down. The world has arrived at a stage when people are not

satisfied with a mere assertion, but demand to hear both sides of the

question and to reason for themselves; and to those who have taken up or

made even a small study of Islam it is a pain, or perhaps at times an

amusement, to listen to the rabid cries as to its inferiority, issuing

from the throats of men who base their action upon a few what they call

“practical results.” It is not the author’s purpose here to enter into

a long discussion upon the subject, or to point out at any length the

many fallacies which are believed to be doctrines of Islam by a large

proportion of the British public.

But of all the arguments used to show the inferiority of the Mahammedan

religion, there is none so loved and so often brought into use as the

present condition of countries practising its belief. How little real

value this argument possesses it will not take long to prove; and it may

be generally stated that the backward condition of Mahammedan states

is not owing to their form of religion to nearly so great an extent

as it is owing to the nature of the people who profess it; in other

words, the low standpoint of most Islamic countries can be traced to

the origin of its inhabitants rather than to their beliefs. Strong as

is this statement, there is at least one very good example to prove its

truth—namely, that under similar circumstances of breed and climate we

find Christian nations sunk deeper in degradation and vice than their

Moslem neighbours. Take, for example, Abyssinia, into which Christianity

was introduced between the years 300 and 320 A.D. Why then, since from

that period they have been pursuing the Christian belief, do we not find

them to-day in a state infinitely superior to the surrounding Moslem

countries—in fact, living in a state of civilisation equalling that of

the European nations, or even of the Yemenite Arabs or the Turks? Why do

we find Abyssinia to-day a country given over to drink and debauchery,

when they are regular attendants at church? Why do we find them living

in the circular thatch-huts and wearing the same apparel that they did

probably when Christianity first made its appearance amongst them?

Because, I say, their nature is such that it is untouchable by any

religion, no matter how lofty be its aims and aspirations. “Can the

Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots?” Certainly not, no

matter how much he may be painted over with gaudy colours. Again, why

in Egypt do we not find the Kopts in a far higher state of civilisation

and intellectual superiority than their neighbours? It may be argued

that their Christianity is not an example of true Christianity, just as

it may be argued that the Islam of to-day is not the true Islam. Yet it

strikes one that Islam is very much nearer its original ideal than we

are to ours, who have turned our religion round and round and inside

out to make it fit the requirements of modern progress and personal

comforts. Before, Christian reader, you turn to smite your neighbour the

Moslem, look round you. Before you begin to pull the mote out of his

eye, pay a little attention to the beam that is in your own. Look at

the great armies of Europe ready to tear one another to pieces! Look at

the streets of the great cities flocked with prostitutes! Look at the

swarming drunken population of our towns! Look at the financial robberies

and the uncharitableness of our own lands,—and when you have mended that,

then you may turn to show your brotherly love, which is so engrafted in

the Christian’s heart, and rend your neighbour.

Justice, I say! If it be one’s desire to take up the cudgels against what

millions hold most dear, then let it not be done until the cudgels can

be taken up and victory assured by making a careful study of what one

is going to fight against. Religious tolerance is one of the boasts of

Englishmen; let it be their care that the boast is not a vain one.

Again, it is often said that by its so carefully laying down the laws,

Islam has prevented any material change from taking place in the

condition of those that profess it. How about Judaism? The laws are as

equally, if not more specifically, laid down in their books than even

they are in the Koran, and yet we find to-day the Jews in all material

matters almost the leaders of the world.

There can be no doubt that Christianity is a far finer religion than

Islam. Christianity is beautiful in its simplicity—beautiful in that

it touches so little upon affairs of worldly importance; but it is

doubtless a religion founded for Western and Northern people. There is no

doubt that, coming from Palestine, it chose its natural course when it

proceeded to Europe. Why was it not embraced by the Arabs and peoples

of the south, who at that time, with the exception of such as were

Jews, were professing the foul rites of idolatry? The southerner, wild

turbulent son of the desert, is unsuited to Christianity; he must have

some belief that touches him deeper, that inspires his ardour by teaching

something he can understand,—some religion that regulates his course

of life, as well as offers him hereafter a future existence. Mentally

and bodily, he is different to us northern people. His mind runs in an

entirely different channel. He exists, he thinks, in a different sphere,

and it was this sphere that Islam touched.

He was tempted by earthly spoil, by the love of persecution, and promised

licentiousness hereafter, it is often said. Perhaps; but has not the same

over and over again tempted Christian Powers?—has not love of persecution

found sufficient examples in the history of Christianity to deter us

from looking for it abroad? Is not our heaven, painted by St John in the

Revelation, tended to increase our desire to share in it by picturing

its beauties? The Revelation, it may be answered, is an allegory; yet he

who argues thus would have been burned at the stake for his pernicious

views not many centuries ago. To those who are capable, though generally

unwilling, to understand Christianity, it is a religion at once perfect

and superlative. It is an ideal seldom if ever reached. It is a goal to

be striven after, with but little hopes of doing more than one’s feeble

best to reach; and more, far more than all, it is the truth. But so is

Islam to the Mahammedan. It is a goal which many reach, because its

ideals are tangible and comprehensible. It is a religion founded by a man

of vast intellect to enforce a belief in the existence of one God, which

the intricacies of Christianity had failed to prove to the Arab races. To

them, materialists to the very backbone, the Trinity is impossible. To us

it is incomprehensible, but acknowledged. Christ was the Son of God! This

alone is sufficient to drive to a distance the Arab, who acknowledges

the Messiah’s origin as divine and supernatural, but to whom the idea of

filial relationship with the Deity is revolting and incredible.

An example of the power that Islam asserted over the minds of the

inhabitants of the Yemen is near at hand. There were many Christians

in that country at the moment when they received the tidings of the

Prophet’s mission. Nejrán, a large province, was governed by a Christian

family, and boasted a bishop, by name Kos, who died during the earlier

half of the seventh century A.D., probably during the lifetime of

Mahammed; yet but a comparatively few years later we find all traces of

Christianity disappeared. Not so in Abyssinia, where it exists to-day

amongst a people given up to one vice at least, drunkenness, from which

were they Moslems they would be free. Were Europe a Mahammedan Power,

there is no reason to doubt that we should not be in the same state of

civilisation as we enjoy to-day. The Turks are an oriental race, and

cannot be taken as a fair example; yet they have so far followed upon the

lines of Christian Powers that we find them to-day squeezing their people

to obtain the means wherewithal to purchase the destructive implements

of war, and existing in a very tolerable state of civilisation and

drunkenness.

No! the Ethiopian cannot change his skin; and just as Christianity is

the religion best suited, apart from its inestimable truth, to Northern

people, so is Islam to the Arabs and the children of the south. Each has

sorted itself and taken root where best it will flourish. Any attempt

to influence one by the introduction of the other must, by the laws of

nature which have thus sorted them, be prejudicial to the world at large.

A few words as to the general tenets of the Mahammedan religion.

It must not be forgotten that it was in A.H. 12, a year after the

Prophet’s death, that the Koran was collected by Zaid, and that therefore

there can be little doubt that in its arrangement and sequence it is far

from the order in which the words were uttered. The fragments of which

it is composed were collected from every source, but although it may be

said in its present form to follow no particular chronological order, at

the same time there can be little doubt that, apart from this weakness,

it contains the words of the Prophet himself. However, in the building up

of a new religion, it was impossible to ordain for every class of society

likely to embrace it; and on this account the Moslems, especially the

Sunnis, hold that, after the sacred book, the “traditions” are next in

sanctity. These “traditions” are the teaching, verbal or in example, of

the Prophet himself, not absolutely inculcated in the Koran, but handed

down upon the authority of “his companions.” On these traditions many

schools of theology and law have been built up, referring to them in

cases in which the Koran does not sufficiently render clear, or perhaps

omits altogether some point. Needless to say these “traditions,” being

almost innumerable and often disputed, have caused more dissension

amongst the world of Islam than any passages in the Koran itself.

The central idea of Islam is the unity of God, and the association of any

other with the Deity is the one mortal sin.[26] There is no priesthood;

the religion is a religion of the people, explained to them by doctors,

such as the Sheikh el-Islam, the Moulas, and the Cadis, whose authority

is acknowledged, but solely as exponents of religion and law, which it

is in no one’s power to revise or alter. Idolatry is to be rooted out

and trampled under foot. “There is no God but God, and Mahammed is the

prophet of God.” Soundless, rhythmless, as are the words to us, their

very repetition stirs the Moslem heart; their very mention is sufficient

for an infidel to become a Moslem. They are the only bond that binds

Sunnis and Sheiyas together, the common birthright of all Islam.

[Illustration: _A Yemeni._]

The principal and best known of the Mahammedan tenets, as well as being

those on which the religion is most founded, are the immortality of the

soul; the resurrection of the body; the judgment of good and evil; heaven

and hell; predestination, about which, however, contradictory remarks are

found in the Koran; the ministry of good angels, and the evil influence

of the bad. To none of these precepts can exception be found, for, after

all, they resemble to a great extent our own. But at this point the Koran

steps ahead of us by the prohibition of wine, games of chance, usurious

dealings, the flesh of swine, or of things strangled or which have died a

natural death, all of which are strictly forbidden. How beneficial this

has proved and is proving to the Mahammedan races is very clear; and it

may be said that it is only when Moslems have come into contact with Jews

or Christians that they have broken through these ordinances.

As to other restrictions laid by Mahammed upon his followers, and other

privileges allowed to them, a few words must be said. Polygamy is legal,

and it is this more than anything, perhaps, that raises indignation

amongst Christians. Every Moslem is allowed four wives and as many slaves

as he likes. Shocking! yet do we not decorate our church windows with

pictures of David and Solomon? do we not read their words in our places

of worship? and I doubt if either would have been satisfied with this

small allowance. Were not the patriarchs, who after Christ we are taught

most to reverence, polygamists? They at least, like the Arabs, have an

excuse, which Solomon and David certainly had not—namely, the constant

wars in which they were engaged killed off so large a population of the

men that the women were greatly in excess. Yet to-day in many Moslem

countries it is unusual to find amongst the respectable classes more

than one wife. We are by law restricted to one, they are by law and by

religion allowed four. After all, they have just as much right to swear

that their custom is the best one as we have to put forward our own.

That divorce is lax amongst the Arab races is true; so are the morals of

both men and women. But let us look again at the Kopts in Egypt, or the

Christian race of Abyssinians,—are they any better? Certainly not. Again,

in Moslem countries, these laws of divorce are appealed to more by the

poorest classes than by the rich. In England the fact that a wretched

couple of paupers do not agree has no remedy, until one day the husband

jumps on his wife and kills her. In Moslem countries he divorces her, and

probably both are married again in the course of a month.

The fact of the case is simply this. To attempt to judge Islam from a

Christian standpoint is as ridiculous as to attempt to judge Christianity

from a Moslem one. We shudder at the civil codes and conditions of the

Mahammedans; they are horrified at our Trinity, at the decoration of our

churches, at lax laws as to purification, at our drunken habits, at the

Pope, at our paid clergy, and at a hundred other details. To criticise

Islam one must have seen it in its own lands, and that with unprejudiced

eyes.

There is but one more question that must be touched upon here—namely,

slavery. Never have there been more exaggerated reports as to slavery in

oriental countries than are from time to time cropping up to-day. It must

be understood what slavery really is in the East; it must be remembered

that it is not agricultural slavery—that it is entirely domestic slavery.

Stories are from time to time appearing of atrocious cruelties to slaves:

they are true, no doubt, but they are exceptional—just as, happily, the

cruel treatment of children is exceptional in England. It is not after

the slaves have passed through the market that they suffer, it is on the

long desert-marches in which they are brought from the interior. Another

point is scarcely understood in England—namely, that probably ninety-nine

hundredths of the slaves in servitude in oriental countries have been

born in servitude, and never were brought from the Soudan at all. In this

case they have been often reared in the houses of their masters, and as

often as not treated as his children.

That slavery is contrary to law and nature all will acknowledge; that it

ought and must be put down is equally true; but as to the means of doing

it? The slave-trade must be stopped from the interior of Africa, not by

the freeing of the slaves already arrived at their journey’s end. For

instance, the emancipation of slaves in Morocco would mean thousands of

men thrown out of doors to gain a livelihood by murder and robbery, or

starve; and thousands of women driven to be prostitutes. And this is

what we are attempting to do in the name of progress and religion!

[Illustration: _Jew of the Yemen._]

How vastly Islam was in advance of the pagan religions, which for the

most part it replaced in Arabia, need not be mentioned here. From

practising horrible rites of “fetich,” from the offering even of human

sacrifices, from dissensions and religious tribal wars, the mission of

Mahammed called the Arabs to something far higher—far above anything

they had known before. Christianity had failed, in spite of repeated

efforts, to attract them to anything more than the smallest extent;

Judaism was out of date, and unsuited to the epoch they had reached. They

were ready, were yearning, for a new religion, and Mahammed took the

opportunity to found one. In place of hideous pagan rites, in place of a

few converts to an unappreciated Christianity, in place of Judaic laws of

which the people were weary, he brought amongst them a new inspiriting

religion, lofty in its recognition of monotheism, higher than anything

they had as yet known in its moral code.

But from this simple form of monotheism numerous branches were destined

to sprout; and just as Christianity is split up into innumerable sects,

so is Islam divided into many differences and brotherhoods. It is with

comparatively few, however, of these that we have to deal in regard to

the Yemen,—for although in early times changes had begun to be apparent

in the course of the religion, it is only comparatively lately that the

enormous quantity of sectarian differences now existing sprang into

life; and these, with few exceptions, have but to a very slight extent

influenced the political aspect of the country.

The first important dissension in the course of Islam occurred about the

year 37 A.H., when the theocratic party, recognising that the existence

of the Caliphs was likely to become, and was even at that time becoming,

an excuse for power and a cause of strife, and that the religious

influence was lapsing into an autocratic supremacy, stood aside and

cried for an oath of allegiance to God alone, and an elected Council of

State to regulate affairs. Revolting first against Ali, the nephew and

son-in-law of the Prophet, we find them again and again all through the

history of Islam bursting forth, egged on by such wild fanaticism as

only men of those countries can know. High though, perhaps, the original

motives of the Kharejites were, they were too often in after-times fanned

by the aspirations of pretenders to power, and it needed all the force

of temporal and spiritual rulers to check these outbursts of fanaticism.

The Kharejites were again split up into many divisions, all more or less

founded upon the idea of treating sin as infidelity, which it would be

straying from the objects of this book to specially mention here, except

that of the Obadites, who from time to time recur in the history of the

Yemen.

Although the Kharejites formed the first absolute split in Islam, there

had been gradually growing up what have always formed, and to-day form,

the two great divisions of the Mahammedan belief—namely, the sects

of the Sunnis and the Sheiyas. To mention some of the standpoints of

both. The Sunni tenets are held by Turkey and the greater part of

Mahammedan-professing India, while Southern Arabia and Persia and

portions of North Africa profess Sheiyism. The differences of the two,

briefly stated, are as follows. While the Sunnis acknowledge the election

of the Caliphs from the general professors of Islam, the Sheiyas assert

that Ali, the fourth Caliph, was the natural successor of the Prophet,

ignoring Abou Bekr, Omar, and Othman. But here again the Sheiya sect

becomes split up; for one division, which continued under the name of

Sheiyas, contend that Ali held his right to succeed the Prophet in

office in virtue of his personality; while the other side, the Zaidis,

contend that Ali was the legitimate successor and heir of the Prophet,

not by reason of his personality, but through his merits. Consequently

they assert that the successors in the Caliphate, or Imams, as they

were called in the Yemen, must necessarily be of the Prophet’s family,

but were to be chosen to fill the holy office on account of merit and

character, in place of succession by birthright alone, but that in

the veins of those elected to the post must flow the Prophet’s blood.

Amongst those of the former persuasion was the sect of Imamites, and its

sub-sects, the Dodekites and Ismailites, the latter of which was founded

and flourished in the third century A.H. It was from this branch that the

Fatimide dynasty sprang, and their descendants are to be found in the

mountains of Lebanon under the name of Druses, who are still awaiting the

return of their prophet Hakim. The point on which the Zaidis separated

from the sects of the Dodekites and Ismailites is as to the lawful

holders of the Imamate or Caliphate after the death of the grandson of

Ali.

But the Zaidis were destined also to divide, and at a subsequent period

we find the Arab and Persian Zaidis submitting to the allegiance of two

separate Imams, one of whom reigned in Arabia and one in Persia.

Even to-day intense hatred exists between the followers of Sunni and

Sheiya doctrines. No better example of this is to be found than the

fact that when Russia was engaged in a war with Turkey that threatened

to be a death-blow to Islam in Europe, not one sword was raised by the

Sheiya-professing Mahammedans for her assistance; and Persia and other

parts who do not acknowledge the Sultan Abdul Hamid as the rightful

Caliph—for the Prophet’s blood does not flow in his veins—sat impassively

and watched, with but comparatively little interest, the struggle.

The Sunnis derive their name from the Arabic word _sunnat_, a precedent;

and their faith is built up, apart from the differences already

specified, upon the example established by the Prophet himself, as handed

down to them by history and tradition. Their belief can be justly called,

perhaps, the orthodox one, for Mahammed himself chose as his successor in

office Abou Bekr, who was not of his family. Therefore to them it is no

prejudice that the present holder of the Caliphate, or successor in the

religious supremacy of Islam, is the Sultan of Turkey, who, it will be

seen, fails to be acknowledged by any of the branches of the Sheiya faith

on account of his descent.

These few words may prove sufficient to throw as much light as is

necessary in the question of the Yemen upon the two great divisions of

Islam. It need only be added to how great an extent the Turks, though

co-religionists in as far as they profess Mahammedanism, would be

separated from the Yemeni people in religious ideas; and it is this fact,

more than even the extortion they practised, that gave rise to the Yemen

rebellion.

About 280 A.H. there appeared a new sect in the Yemen, that of the

Karmathians, who sprang from the Dodekites and Ismailites, though far

exceeding them in fanaticism and excesses. They arose in the Yemen under

the leadership of two powerful men, Ali ibn Fadl and Mansur ibn Hasan, of

whom the former appears to have been most implicated in promulgating the

extraordinary and often revolting tenets of the new belief. Beginning as

a hermit, he collected round him a little band of devoted followers, and

setting forth, he commenced a series of victories. At length, overpowered

with success, he acknowledged himself a prophet, and preached from the

pulpit of Janad the rightful use of wine and permission of incest.

Continuing his march, his cause grew, and both Dhamar and Sanaa fell

before him. At the latter place his excesses were beyond recording.[27]

Seventeen years after having gained his enormous power, Ibn Fadl died at

the hands of an assassin, who, taking advantage of the common Eastern

habit of the drawing of blood, secreted poison in his long hair, and

after having sucked the lancet to prove it was clean, dried it in his

poisoned locks. The historian, El-Janadi, states that there were great

rejoicings at his death. The remnants of this sect, inoffensive now and

law-abiding, still exist in Bombay.

The next great secession from the direct Islam was that of the Nizarites

or Assassins, a name derived from _Hashishiyin_—in other words, the

eaters of _hashish_, a narcotic much resorted to in the East. This

word was the origin of our present “assassin,” but in the East to-day

has no deeper meaning than that given above. The brotherhood arose

about 400 A.H., a few years after the death of Nizar, son of the

Khalifa el-Mustansir, whom they asserted had been wrongfully withheld

from succeeding his father. Thus they gained their first title, that

of “Nizarites.” They swore an oath to devote their energies to the

propagation of their faith, and many perils they undertook for this

purpose, often sacrificing their lives in the fulfilment of their vows.

The remains of this once dreaded sect are to-day to be found in Bombay,

in Zanzibar, and in the Lebanon.

The later sect of the Wahabis shows a tendency on the part of orthodox

Arabs to the ancient tenets of Kharejite theocracy. With the Sheiyas

the contrary is the case, and they incline rather toward transcendental

doctrines, bursting out into such mystical rites as those of the sects of

Mutazelites and Sufis, or, in the Yemen, in their devotion for a divine

Imamate.

How important have been these sects in forming the history, not only of

the Yemen but of all Arabia, cannot be exaggerated. Whole dynasties have

been built up or overthrown by their fanatical devotees. From the very

earliest years of Islam we are constantly coming across the turbulent

risings of one or the other; and while the Sunnis have more or less

strictly upheld until to-day their original orthodoxy, with any variation

of which they are intolerant, we see the other great division, the

Sheiyas, split up again and again into sects and sub-sects, struggling

for a theocracy that was impossible, or used by unscrupulous pretenders

as a road to power.

Looking at Islam to-day, we find the Sunnis in very much the same

religious position as they have always held, even from the very first.

Their key-note, so to speak, has been unswerving allegiance to the

_sunnat_, or precedent of the Prophet. On the other hand, we find the

Sheiyas split up into hundreds of sects and brotherhoods, each following

some particular instruction or belief of their several founders, who for

the most part have been descendants of the Prophet himself.

One of these sects, now making itself felt in the Yemen, as it is doing

all over the Moslem world, is a modern one. I refer to the followers of

El-Mehdi Senussi, about which, as one of the coming powers of Islam,

a few words may not be out of place. The idea of Sheikh Senussi was

to bring Islam back to its original purity—to revive its great social

laws, moral and religious, as instituted by the Prophet, and to defend

and propagate the same.[28] In this it will be seen that the tenets of

Senussism resemble both those of the Sheiyas and the Sunnis—the former

in the desire for a theocracy, the latter in the punctilious observance

of precedent. Its sole distinctive feature is in its transcendentalism

and in the repetition of certain prayers. Like the Wahabis, too, music,

dancing, singing, and coffee are forbidden. In fact, the Sheikh Senussi

seems to have introduced into his new revival of Islam the doctrines of

many of the former sects. The Sheikh himself is dead, being followed in

office by his son, who is still living near Siwah, in the desert between

Egypt and Tripoli. But what makes this sect so vastly important is its

political power, and it may safely be prophesied that the next great

revolt of Islam against the Christians in Africa, no matter what form

it may take, will owe its origin to this movement. The author, within a

few months, heard Senussism preached in Somali-land and in Morocco, in

both of which countries, not to speak of the more central Tunis, Tripoli,

and the state of Fezzan, it is deeply rooted. If, then, a new movement

in Islam is able in the lifetime of two men to gain converts, and many

converts, in countries so distantly removed from one another and from the

headquarters of its founder, it can clearly be understood the immense

power it must hold over the minds of the people; and one of the greatest

drawbacks to European venture in Africa is the undoubted fact that this

smouldering fanaticism will one day burst into flame.

CHAPTER V.

THE REBELLION IN THE YEMEN.

It is seldom that the Sublime Porte is free from trouble regarding one

at least of her possessions; and although the Turkish Government has

taken, in the case of the rebellion in the Yemen, every means to throw

dust in the eyes of Europe, yet sufficient has from time to time leaked

out to show how seriously the affair was regarded by the Sultan and his

Ministers. From such scraps of information it would be impossible to

piece together a history of what has taken place; but the writer, by

making a journey of over four hundred miles through the country at the

very time of the rebellion, was, as the only European in the interior,

with the exception of a few Greek shopkeepers, able to take advantage

of his unique opportunity of seeing for himself, and gathering a

considerable amount of information on the subject.

But before any account is given of the rebellion, it must be explained of

how great a value to the Sultan of Turkey are his possessions in Arabia.

It is on them, and on them alone, that he bases his claim to the title

of Caliph—a title on which his prestige in the eyes of the Moslem mainly

rests. Amongst Mahammedan potentates he is the greatest; for although

many sects of Islam do not hold that one in whose veins the blood of

the Prophet does not flow is able by divine right to succeed to the

Caliphate, the possession of the holy cities of Mecca and Medina cannot

but add to his fame. From all parts of the world the pilgrims flock

yearly to Mecca, there to come in contact with the Turks as a governing

power, to hear the name of Abdul Hamid blessed daily in the mosque;

and in their eyes, by force of circumstance, the Sultan is inseparably

connected with the Holy Places.

True it is that the Yemen is separated from the Hejaz, the province in

which Mecca and Medina are situated, by a large tract of country, known

as the Asir. But the tribes inhabiting this district are, and always have

been, largely influenced by the Yemenite faction, and like them are in

their belief of the Sheiya sect, holding that the claim of the Sultan

of Turkey to the Caliphate is irregular and illegal. This alliance, not

only by blood but by doctrine, which is perhaps the strongest tie of all

amongst the Moslems, caused the rebellion in the Yemen to be a likely

forerunner to a war in the Asir. The Turkish rule has never been more

than nominal amongst the mountains of the latter, so that the repudiation

by them of the Osmanli Government, which has taken place, is fraught

with no great danger to Turkey, provided the discontent and consequent

rebellion remains within bounds, and does not reach the Hejaz. Although

largely subsidised by the Turkish Government, there can be little doubt

that, did they clearly see their way to success, the members of the

Shereefian family of Mecca, direct descendants of the Prophet Mahammed,

would attempt to bring back the succession of the Caliphate into their

own line, and thus into the strain of the descendants of the Prophet; and

to a cause so nearly touching their doctrinal beliefs there is but little

doubt the Bedouins of the Hejaz, as well as many of the inhabitants of

the cities, would readily lend their aid and assistance.

Therefore it will be seen that to the Turks a successful rebellion in

the Yemen meant not only the loss of the southernmost of their Arabian

States, but also the probable ensuing loss of the Hejaz, and the fall

of the Sultan of Turkey in the eyes of the larger portion of the world

of Islam. How many thousands of Mahammedans daily in the mosques call

for blessings on the head of Abdul Hamid the Caliph, who would never

pray for Abdul Hamid the Sultan! The difference is enormous, though to

us somewhat incomprehensible; and it is said, and no doubt rightly so,

that his Majesty of Stamboul values far more than his temporal powers the

title of “Commander of the faithful.” In the one case, as Caliph, he is

in the eyes of all Sunnis[29] Sultan of the Moslem world, and as such

successor to the Prophet himself. In the other, as a Sultan, he is merely

a stranger, an Osmanli, not even of the great Arab race, whose ancestors

have by force of arms conquered and left him a kingdom.

From these remarks it will be inferred how vastly important it is to the

Sultan and the Porte to retain intact the Turkish possessions in Arabia.

Although it was not until the summer of 1891 that the rebellion in the

Yemen took any outward form, the Turks must have been aware, for a

long period previous to that time, that their relations with the Arabs

were becoming day by day more strained. Yet such is the character of

Turkish provincial officials, especially of those so far removed from

the seat of the Government as in the Yemen, that they still continued

their policy of oppression, trusting to fate that there would be no

open hostilities until the jobbery that had put them into power would

follow its inevitable course by removing them and reinstating others in

their places, on whom would fall the brunt of a rebellion, which they

saw might for a time be postponed but impossible to avert. “Make your

hay while the sun shines,” is the motto of the Turkish official; and

for him, as a rule, the sun shines but for a very short period. It is

this extraordinary want of forethought and co-operation, this shifting

of responsibilities upon successors in office, amongst those who help

to rule the destinies of the Turkish provinces, that is the chief root

and origin of all their troubles. “Let me enrich myself,” thinks the

official. “In a month or two I may no longer have the opportunities. I

must make enough in this short period of office to retire upon. What may

follow, what may be the result of my policy, I care not; it interests me

not at all.”

It was the perpetual practice of these theories that gradually drove the

Arabs into resistance. The rebellion was no sudden affair; as long ago as

several years back there had commenced on the part of the Arabs a series

of outrages against Turkish officials that would have rendered apparent

to any other nation but the Turks the danger that was threatening. Cruel

and bloodthirsty as many of these outrages were, they were the only means

in the power of the Arabs of protesting against the exorbitant taxation

and the oppression that were ruining them. Their appeals to Sanaa,

and even to Constantinople, had resulted in no amelioration of their

condition.

It is necessary, I think, to give but one example of these outrages. At

Dhamar, one of the largest cities of the Yemen, there lived a certain

general, by name Mahammed Rushti Pasha, between whom and a neighbouring

tribe there had arisen misunderstanding as to the amount of taxation to

be levied upon them. The pasha insisted on the full sum, and a quarrel

ensued between the Arab sheikh and himself, the former fleeing from the

city swearing revenge. Shortly afterwards Mahammed Rushti being called

away to another part of the country, the tribe in question took advantage

of his absence to blow up his house and family with gunpowder. His wives,

children, and servants died that night, in all some eleven persons.

Returning with all speed to Dhamar, the general, with such forces as were

at the time in the city, almost exterminated the little tribe who had

accomplished so horrible a vengeance. Over the grave of those that died

that night Mahammed Rushti raised a mosque and a domed tomb, the interior

of which he hung with rich silks. Thither he would repair and sit alone.

On the taking of Dhamar by the Arabs in November last, this tomb was

looted, and when visited by the writer at the end of January, the city

by that time having been reconquered by the Turks, he found the tomb and

mosque in ruins, robbed of all its treasures.

That the feeling was so strong as to find vent in such outrages as

these—and that mentioned is but one of many—would have made it apparent,

one would have thought, that the existing state of affairs could not

continue with impunity. But the lot of the Yemeni was to be squeezed

to fill the coffers at Constantinople, and to pay for the harems and

pleasures of unscrupulous officialdom. Such, then, apart from all

religious differences, was the existing state of feeling in the Yemen

when in the summer of the year before last the rebellion broke out.

Before the conquest of the Yemen by the Turks in 1872—for although they

possessed a firm footing on the coast previous to that period, their

power had not made itself felt in the interior—the Yemen was governed by

a ruler after their own hearts; for, being of the Sheiya sect—Zaidis they

call themselves—it was necessary to the tenets of their belief that their

Sultan should be of direct descent from the Prophet, through Ali ibn Abou

Taleb, his nephew and son-in-law. This condition their Imam fulfilled;

for although the Yemen had at different times fallen into foreign hands,

still the direct family had never disappeared.

Sanaa, now the capital of Turkish Yemen, was his residence. It is a

large city, situated roughly two hundred and forty miles north of Aden,

and a hundred and sixty east of Hodaidah. Here the Imam lived the usual

secluded and sensual life of an oriental despot, looked upon by the Arabs

as a spiritual Sultan, but powerless to hold in check the depredations

and robberies of the many tribes under his nominal sway, who, with true

oriental zeal, were continually doing their best to exterminate one

another. As long as money was forthcoming, the Imam was content to dwell

at Sanaa without troubling himself about more external affairs than the

management of his own household, and the receiving of gifts from the

Arabs who performed pilgrimages to his presence. Apparently wanting in

education, except such religious knowledge as is considered necessary

for the welfare of an Oriental of high degree, he possessed no ability

to govern, nor does he appear to have been even renowned as a soldier or

organiser of troops.

Such became at length the state of the country, that trade almost

ceased on account of the attacks upon the caravans; and the Sanaa

merchants—quiet respectable Arabs—saw nothing but ruin before them, and

considering solely the benefits that would accrue to themselves by such

a step, and ignoring what the result would be upon the agricultural

population, invited the Turks to take the place. This was accomplished

in 1872 by a force from Hodaidah. The Imam was deposed; but on account

of his spiritual influence over the Arab horde, was permitted to reside

in Sanaa, receiving a pension on the condition that he would exert his

powers in furthering the interests of the Osmanli Government. This until

his death he fulfilled; on which event the _baraka_, or holy birthright,

passed to his relative Ahmed ed-Din, who, like his predecessor, was by

no means dissatisfied to receive the adoration of the Arabs and the

regularly paid allowance of the Turks.

Such, briefly, was the history of the Turkish occupation of the Yemen

and the state of affairs until last year. The tribes, in the time of the

Imam, left undisturbed both in their labours in the fields and in their

welfare, boasting an independence of centuries, found themselves, on

the Turkish occupation, little better than slaves—oppressed, taxed, and

retaxed by a people whose extortions ruined them, whose personality they

hated, and with whom, although co-religionists, there was no unison in

religious views.

But the smouldering discontent was destined to burst into flame, even

though the flame might blaze forth but to flicker and die.

On an appeal from the governor of Lohaya, a body of four hundred Turkish

troops were despatched last summer to assist in collecting by force

the taxes due from the Beni Meruan, a branch of the Asir people, and

their southernmost tribe, who inhabit the country lying to the east of

Lohaya, a port on the Red Sea coast north of Hodaidah. In command of this

force was the very Mahammed Rushti Pasha whose house had been destroyed

at Dhamar. The expedition was destined to complete failure, and being

surprised by a large body of Arabs, was nearly annihilated before the

security of a fort was reached, amongst those who fell being the pasha

himself.

In countries like the Yemen news travels with extraordinary rapidity,

and the Arabs, hearing an exaggerated report of what had taken place,

believed that at last their deliverance had come, for it was rumoured

that the great district of the Asir, between the Yemen and the Hejaz, had

risen, intent upon exterminating the Turks. Where the news travelled the

people rose in arms. Tribal banners long hid away were unfurled, and the

cry of “God give victory to the Imam” echoed and re-echoed throughout the

mountains and valleys of the Yemen.

Meanwhile the hero of the rebellion, Ahmed ed-Din, was living quietly at

Sanaa on the subsidy of the Turkish Government, unconscious of what was

taking place, although, doubtless, there was ever present in his mind the

possibility of some day regaining for himself and his descendants the

throne. He clearly saw that affairs were not ripe for a great rebellion,

and almost against his will he was obliged to fly from the capital, and

become the head of the rebel movement. Premature as things were, he must

in the enthusiasm of his partisans have almost believed in their future

success.

It was a new _Jehad_, or holy war! The Turks were to be exterminated or

driven away; the beloved Ahmed ed-Din—beloved on account of his birth

and descent rather than from any knowledge of his personality—was to

be reinstated on the throne. One by one the tribes rose, except only

the Bedouin inhabitants of the Teháma and the southern deserts, who,

possessing nothing but a few flocks and herds, and always wandering,

were indifferent to Turkish or Arab rule, and awaited the result before

promising allegiance to either side. The same plan was followed by

many of the merchants and citizens, whose position and intimacy with

the Turkish officials placed them outside the bounds of oppression and

taxation, and who in many cases were only too ready to take advantage

of their fellow-countrymen’s unenviable position, by buying from the

Turks the right of collecting the taxes of certain districts; for the

privilege of levying dues is a commercial article, sold from time to

time by auction, a system that relieves the Government of much anxiety

and trouble, but encourages to an almost incredible extent cruelty and

oppression.

In what state were the Turks to repress a general rising of this sort?

The force in the country was estimated at some sixteen thousand men,

although in reality probably far short of that number; for during the

two previous years cholera had wrought great havoc amongst the troops.

These troops consisted of Turkish regulars, Bashi-bazouks, and a large

number of Arab auxiliaries, drawn principally from the Mshareg and

Hadramaut, the country to the east of the Yemen, who did not care whom

they fought against, or for what reason they were fighting, so long as

they were paid, and whose one stimulant to feats of bravery was promised

reward. The Turkish troops already in Yemen were in a miserable state.

Ill fed, ill clothed, thinned by disease, badly housed, and seldom, if

ever, paid, it is no wonder that their spirit was broken in a land where

during summer they were liable to a temperature that seldom falls below

a hundred in such shade as their badly built barracks afforded, and in

winter to frosts, and at times snow—to all the vagaries, in fact, of a

tropical climate on the tops of mountains of from seven thousand to

nine thousand feet in altitude. A more pitiful picture than the Turkish

soldiers presented when the writer was in Yemen he never saw, and yet

they fight like devils rather than men.

[Illustration: _Turkish troops on the march._]

A few days after the flight of the Imam, Sanaa, the capital, was besieged

by an enormous force of Arabs, as was Amran, another walled city; while

those which were not so protected fell, many without even a struggle,

into the hands of the Arabs. Menakha, on the road from Hodaidah to Sanaa,

offered a little resistance, but in vain. Those of the garrison who were

not killed or wounded in the first onslaught of the Arabs were spared

on surrender, and taken away prisoners, amongst their number being the

Kaimakam or military governor. The same happened at Dhamar and Yerim, on

the road from Sanaa to Aden; while in quick succession Ibb, Jiblah, and

Taiz, all three large towns situated farther south, proclaimed for Ahmed

ed-Din. All Turkish prisoners were spared. Many voluntarily went over to

the side of the Arabs; some retired into private life on surrendering

their arms. Those of importance were sent to the Imam, where report

said they were housed and fed at his expense, doubtless in the hope of

persuading them to throw in their lot with his own, and so obtain use of

their superior knowledge of warfare. In very exceptional cases do we hear

of the cruel treatment of Turks by the Arabs in their days of victory;

and even when the tide of affairs was changed, the writer met amongst

the Arabs, in districts where no Turkish troops could enter, deserters

from the Osmanli forces being fed and clothed by the kindly Arabs; and in

many cases money was supplied them by their _quondam_ enemies to assist

them in reaching Aden, or in escaping by other means from the hard life

of soldiering.

By this time telegrams were pouring into Constantinople from Hodaidah

beseeching assistance; and the Porte, having at length realised how

serious a turn affairs had taken, exerted all its activity in forwarding

troops to the scene of war. By the time the new forces had embarked for

Hodaidah, the whole country, with the exception of Sanaa and Amran and

a small city in the Asir, by name Dhofir, had fallen into the hands

of the rebels, the plains and seaboard towns holding aloof from any

participation in the affair, though probably it was only the presence of

better organised Turkish forces which kept in check the feeling which

no doubt existed almost as strongly there as anywhere. The Beni Meruan,

many of whose villages lie on the sea-coast, were pitilessly shelled by a

couple of Turkish gunboats.

Ahmed ed-Din remained at Sadah,[30] whither he had fled from Sanaa;

nor at any part of the revolt did he take active part in the fighting,

a fact that in no small degree accounts for the subsequent failure of

the rebellion. In all probability he never left Sadah, though in his

religious character his movements were always spoken about with much

mystery.

Sanaa at the end of October was still in a state of siege, the garrison

and townspeople suffering greatly from hunger and disease, though in

Amran the state of the inhabitants was still more pitiable.

Badly fed as they were at all times, worse now than ever, one cannot but

admire the immense pluck of the handful of Turkish troops who kept at bay

for several months an immense horde of Arabs. Not only was their courage

exhibited in the dogged resistance within the town, but in their constant

and often successful sorties against the enemy.

A short description of the city of Sanaa is necessary in order to explain

the positions of besiegers and besieged during the whole of last autumn.

The city, which contains some fifty thousand inhabitants, lies in a

wide level valley. It takes the form of a triangle, the eastern point

consisting of a large fortress, dominating the town, and built upon the

lowest spur of Jibel Negoum, a mountain which rises immediately outside

the city walls. The town is divided into three distinct quarters, each

walled, and the whole surrounded by one continuous wall. They are

respectively the city proper, in which are the Government buildings,

the huge bazaars, and the residence of the Arabs and Turks; the Jews’

quarter; and Bir el-Azab, where are gardens and villas belonging to the

richer Turks and Arabs. The city was once of great wealth and prosperity,

and to-day remains one of the most nourishing cities of Arabia. The

shops are well supplied with European goods, and a large manufacture of

silk, jewellery, and arms is carried on there. The quarter in which the

Government buildings are situated presents almost a European appearance,

with its large Turkish shops, its _cafés_, and its open places, on one of

which, in front of the Governor-General’s official residence, a military

band discourses anything but sweet music of an afternoon.

But the city, as the writer saw it after its recapture by the Turks,

presented a very different spectacle from what it must have done when,

surrounded on all sides by a horde of Arabs, a continual shower of

bullets was being poured into its streets from the Arab position on Jibel

Negoum, which completely dominated the place. Fortunately for those

besieged, the rebels possessed no artillery, otherwise their efforts

would no doubt have proved successful in gaining an entrance into the

town. However, the fire poured into the city was sufficiently harassing

to render it expedient to drive the Arabs from their position above the

town, and several unsuccessful sorties were made. At length, mustering

all the troops at his command, the pasha made a final sortie about the

middle of November. Maintaining a steady fire from the fort upon the

Arab position, the troops issued from the southern gate, and wheeling

to the left after a gallant attack—for the Arabs were in overwhelming

numbers—drove the rebels back. They retreated on Dar es-salaam, a small

village a few miles outside the walls of Sanaa, consisting of perhaps a

dozen or so stone houses surrounded by a wall. Bringing up some small

field-guns, the artillery opened fire upon the rebels, completely

destroying the place and rendering a precipitate retreat of the Arabs

necessary, which they are said to have accomplished in the wildest

disorder, leaving, as I was informed, several thousand dead upon the

field. But the victory was not altogether a blessing, for there being

no one to bury the Arab dead, the inhabitants of the city suffered from

violent disease, while the stench of the decaying bodies is said to have

been terrible. Retiring once more within the precincts of the city, the

Arabs again took up their old position; but their defeat seems to have

to a great degree crushed their spirits, and the remainder of the siege,

severe though the sufferings of the townspeople were, is said to have

been less acute than previously. At any rate, the alarm of a successful

attack on the part of the rebels seems to have abated.

But relief was at hand. The Turkish reinforcements had landed in Hodaidah

under the command of Ahmed Feizi Pasha, formerly Governor of Mecca, and

commander of the Seventh Army Corps.

Learning on his arrival at Hodaidah how serious was the state of

affairs, he at once took active measures, and without even waiting for

commissariat arrangements to be carried out, marched his troops _viâ_

Bajil to Hojaila, a village at the foot of the mountains on which the

town of Menakha is situated, and over which the road to Sanaa passes.

Here three days later they were overtaken by the commissariat camels

bringing flour and provisions for the soldiers. Having rested his men, he

commenced the ascent of the steep road, and here met with the first show

of resistance. But the Turkish soldiers were fresh and fought well, and

the superiority of arms did its work. With but a short delay to force the

road, Menakha was reached.

There is perhaps in the world no city situated in the way that

Menakha is. At an altitude of seven thousand six hundred feet above

the sea-level, it is perched on a narrow ridge joining two distinct

mountain-ranges. On either side of the city are precipices, each of

considerably over two thousand feet in depth. So narrow is the town

that there are places in it where one can stand and gaze down both

these precipices at the same time. To reach it from the west there is

only one path in the steep mountain-side; while from the east it can

only be approached by a narrow track cut in the face of a precipice and

winding up it for an ascent of two thousand five hundred feet. In the

hands of well-regulated forces it would be impregnable; but the Arab

defenders, learning how easily the new Governor-General and his troops

had forced the road at Hojaila, made no plucky resistance: and armed as

they were almost entirely with matchlock and fuse guns—and many only with

spears—they could have made no permanent stand against the field-guns of

the Turks, who are said in one day to have brought their light artillery

from Hojaila to Menakha, an ascent of nearly six thousand feet, by a

break-neck path. But few shots had been fired when the Arabs fled, and

the Turks once more took possession of the place. Leaving a sufficient

garrison to protect the town, and to keep open a line of communication

with the coast, Ahmed Feizi marched on towards Sanaa. About thirty miles

from Menakha, on the road to the capital, is a spot called Hajarat

el-Mehedi, where the track is so narrow and so bad that even without

resistance it would offer no slight obstacle to the passage of troops.

Here the rebel army under Seyed esh-Sheraï, a cousin to Ahmed ed-Din,

took up a position, and a twelve days’ delay and fighting took place

before the Turks could force their way through. But on the twelfth day

it was accomplished, and the rebels dispersed. Halting but now and again

to shell some village, the troops by hurried marches reached Sanaa, and

on their being sighted by the Arab besiegers on Jibel Negoum, the Imam’s

force retired into the mountains to the east, where no Turkish troops

could follow them.

[Illustration: MENAKHA.]

The capital relieved, Ahmed Feizi was not idle. He arrived in time to

save the garrison of Amran, where, as at Sanaa, the Arabs retired on

the approach of the Turkish forces. Returning to Sanaa, he set to work

to reorganise affairs, despatching Ismail Pasha with a considerable

number of troops to recapture Dhamar and Yerim. Proclaiming military law,

which in this case meant almost no law, throughout the country, the new

Governor-General offered a reward for the head of every rebel brought

to him, and turned loose upon the Arabs his Turkish troops to loot and

plunder their villages. Marching to the south, Ismail Pasha halted at

Maaber to shell the villages of Jibel Anis, retook Dhamar without any

opposition being offered, and, leaving a garrison there, proceeded to

Yerim, and thence by Seddah and Sobeh to Kátaba, where the writer found

him encamped with four hundred troops toward the middle of last January.

Ibb, Jiblah, and Taiz returned under Turkish rule without a struggle.

There is no nation in the world that can put down a rebellion as the

Turks can, but they have a great objection to any one seeing the process;

and the presence of the writer, turning up suddenly in Sanaa while Ahmed

Feizi Pasha was engaged upon this task, caused such a shock, that he

and his servants were securely confined in prison as spies in spite of

passports, until, from the unsanitary conditions of the place and the

bad water supplied, he was seized with a violent attack of fever; and

no doubt thinking that it would be better to get rid of him alive than

have an objectionable corpse on their hands, and probably a good many

questions to answer, a guard of soldiers was prepared, and the writer

was hurried away to Hodaidah with orders to quit. Yet, in spite of the

fact that his relations with Ahmed Feizi Pasha were a little strained, he

cannot but testify to his admirable activity and soldier-like bearing—an

admiration dimmed only by the cruelty, perhaps almost necessary, of some

of his commands. Thus it will be seen, from the day that Ahmed Feizi

Pasha took over the governor-generalship of the Yemen, the tide of events

had completely changed. A series of Arab victories had ended in a series

of Arab defeats. Had Sanaa been taken, the result would doubtless have

been different; but in their endeavours to take it they failed. Renowned

in history, sacred to them as the former seat of government of their

Imams, their want of success in capturing it, together with the action of

Ahmed ed-Din, who held aloof from any active part in the warfare, broke

their spirits. Had they succeeded in entering Sanaa, had they brought

their Imam there in state, there is some possibility that the Turks might

have lost the Yemen for ever. They themselves, and Ahmed Feizi Pasha the

first of them, told the writer this.

Thus by the end of January the Turks had reconquered all the cities of

Yemen with the exception of one, Dhofir, at that time still besieged

by the Arabs. Yet in spite of the fact that Turkish rule was again

reinstated in the country, in spite of the fact that what with the

reinforcements there were altogether some forty thousand troops in

the Yemen, the rebellion was by no means stamped out. This is easily

understood when the nature of the country is described. Central Yemen

consists of a great plateau, upon which are situated the three principal

cities, Sanaa, Dhamar, and Yerim. This plateau is surrounded by a

system of mountains broken and torn into valleys and cañons, peaks and

pinnacles, amongst which it would be impossible for any Turkish force

to operate. Many of these mountains reach an altitude of over twelve

thousand and thirteen thousand feet, the summits often connected with

the valleys beneath by precipices of thousands of feet in depth. The

only roads—mere tracks they are—are cut in the face of these walls

of rock, and often are not a yard in breadth. Amongst these enormous

mountain-ranges—and to the north of Sanaa one can travel for days and

weeks amongst them—the spirit of rebellion burns as fiercely to-day

as ever. Certainly the towns are now in the possession of the Turks,

yet the main roads that connect the towns are unsafe for Turks to pass

over, except in considerable numbers together. It was to a large extent

from these mountain districts that the revenues of the Government were

previously drawn; for the Arabs of the Yemen, unlike those of the Hejaz

and most other Arabian States, are tillers of the soil, living in

well-built and permanent villages, one and all roughly fortified, from

which they would be able to withstand any band of armed tax-collectors,

such as were wont formerly to be sent to levy the dues, as often on

behalf of those who had purchased the rights of collecting from the

district as on the part of the Government direct. In many of these

villages the writer sat, sharing with the Arabs their humble repast,

sipping their coffee and smoking their hubble-bubbles, and listening to

their strange songs and prayers for the return of the Imam, Ahmed ed-Din,

to power.

The rebellion has been outwardly crushed, but the prestige of Turkey in

the Yemen has received a severe blow. The exorbitant squeezing will have

to be abandoned, with the results that the revenue will probably fall

to a tenth of its former sum. Many tribes formerly taxed will maintain

an armed independence. The garrisons in the towns must be doubled, and

the Yemen as a means of filling the Turkish coffers will be finished.

Over the rebellion the Porte has expended a vast sum of money, while any

attempt to recoup itself from the scene of action will but bring on a

second and probably more disastrous rising.

Little more remains to be told except to consider briefly in what

manner a permanent Arab success would have influenced ourselves. It was

generally believed amongst the Turks in all quarters that it was British

intrigue that stirred up the rebellion in the Yemen, although even the

Turks themselves were at a loss to understand what advantages we should

reap through such an action. They called attention to the independent

States that lie between Aden and the Turkish frontier at Kátaba, the

states of Lahej, Dhala, and the lands of the Houshabi, Aloui, and other

tribes. Yet Ahmed Feizi Pasha himself informed the writer that, equally

with the English, the Turkish Government subsidise their Sultans, Amirs,

and Sheikhs; but the object of our subsidising them is misunderstood by

the officials of Sanaa and Constantinople. To them it is impossible to

consider in the same light as we do the vast importance of trade; and

it is merely that the roads which pass through these various States may

be kept open and safe for caravans trading with Aden, that we pay large

monthly sums to the native rulers. At the same time, it is doubtless an

advantage to possess a more or less independent strip of country between

our frontier at Aden and that of the Turkish Yemen.

What has been to England the result of the Turkish occupation of the

Yemen? It has been a result enormously beneficial. Formerly, in the time

of Arab rule, no caravans were able to pass and repass in safety from the

interior to Aden. The inability of the Imam to hold the tribes in check

rendered the looting of every caravan probable. But since the arrival

of the Turks things have altered. By keeping the roads open the Turks

have rendered a vast service to England, by, as far as their power went,

ensuring safe-conduct to the passage of caravans, while unconsciously

their greed in levying enormous export and import dues at Hodaidah and

their ports has driven the greater part of the Yemen trade to Aden—a free

port. Thus it will be seen how vastly beneficial to England has been the

conquest of the Yemen by the Turks; and had the Osmanli Government lost

possession of the country, the result could have brought about but one

effect—a return to the state of affairs previous to Turkish annexation,

and a consequent enormous diminution of the Aden trade both in coffee and

exports, and in the European goods and tobaccos from the Persian Gulf,

for which the returning caravans create a great demand. Yet the Turks

assured the writer that the British Government was supplying arms and

assistance to the rebels. In reality the rifles were being smuggled in by

private traders from the French port at Obock.

As to what will be the future policy of Turkey in the Yemen it is

difficult to surmise. No doubt Abdul Hamid will be guided much by the

report of his aide-de-camp Yakoub Bey, who was despatched to Sanaa for

the purpose of bringing a full report to the Sultan. Rather than risk a

second rebellion, there is little doubt that a conciliatory policy will

be attempted; but the Yemen is too far removed from Constantinople to

be governed from there, and as soon as affairs have quieted down, the

officials will take advantage of their positions to commence once more

the oppression of the people and the filling of their pockets. Could

they be persuaded that extortion is not the road by which to arrive at

a satisfactory system of government, they would find the country daily

growing richer, and their relations with the Arabs more peaceable and

less strained than at present. But the leopard cannot change his spots;

and it is only probable that as long as Osmanli supremacy exists in the

Yemen, officialdom will continue to enrich itself and impoverish the

country.

PART II.

A JOURNEY THROUGH THE YEMEN

CHAPTER I.

ADEN.

There is not a breath of wind to stir the placid surface of the

sea—not a breath to cause a draught upon the ship and cool us for a

second. It is one of those terrible still tropical days, motionless,

silent, oppressive. Nothing to hear but the hissing of the sea as the

vessel’s bows plough up the turquoise water, and the thud, thud of her

never-ceasing screw. Even the Lascars in their white clothes and bare

feet, children of the sun as they are, seem downcast.

We are passing Perim. It lies on the port side, a dirty blot upon a scene

of opalesque transparence, of shimmering water and palpitating sky.

A youth travelling round the world stretches himself, jots a few lines in

his diary, and commences to tell the old story of the taking of Perim.

But he is soon cried down, and silence reigns again.

On both sides we can see the land,—burning rock seen through a burning

atmosphere. A number of flying-fish buzz over the surface of the water,

and with a series of little splashes disappear once again.

* * * * *

A few hours later and Aden is in sight, with its broken and torn

peaks and jagged outline. A little movement is noticeable amongst the

passengers, but it is half-hearted at the best.

Then we enter the grand bay, surrounded by desolate rock and still more

desolate desert, and drop anchor a mile or so off Steamer Point, as the

shipping quarter of Aden is called.

The steamer is quickly surrounded. A few steam-launches, heavily

awninged, screech their whistles; while a crowd of small boats

manned by coal-black Somali boys, each striving to be the first upon

the scene, crowd upon us. They are boatmen, divers, and sellers of

curiosities—smart, bright little fellows, more than half nude, and as

black as coal, many with their hair left long like the cords of a Russian

poodle. Such a screaming and a yelling! Such a diving after small coins!

Such a display of leopard-skins, antelope-horns, especially those of the

lovely oryx, and ostrich-feathers, products of the opposite coast! A few

dull austere Indians and Cingalese display embroideries and table-cloths,

but the heat seems to depress them, just as it does the buyers.

[Illustration: TOMB AND MOSQUE OF SHEIKH OTHMAN, NEAR ADEN.]

It is a wonderful sight to watch the divers, balanced on the gunwales of

the boats, their hands above their heads, watching eagerly for the tiny

splash of a small coin, then breaking the water into a series of dancing

circles as their dusky bodies disappear into the transparent blue. One

can see them too under water, turning like fishes in search of the slowly

sinking money. When the excitement had worn off, and those passengers who

cared to brave the sun’s terrific rays by taking a short run ashore had

left, I hailed a boy, who, with the aid of Abdurrahman, my ever-faithful

Arab servant from Morocco, stowed my luggage into the boat. Then I said

good-bye to the P. and O. steamer, and was rowed ashore.

[Illustration: SKETCH MAP OF ADEN AND ITS SURROUNDINGS

To Illustrate Mr. W. B. Harris’ “A Journey through the Yemen”

W. & A. K. Johnston. Edinburgh & London.]

At some steps leading to a galvanised-iron-roofed landing-place I stepped

ashore. What a scene of desolation and dreariness Aden presents to the

new-comer! and how soon one gets to like the place in spite of it all! A

background of dreary blackish rock, a sandy road, half-a-dozen rickety

_gharies_ under the shelter of a hideous iron-roofing, with sleepy

little ponies and still more sleepy Somali drivers; a whitewashed domed

saint’s tomb, with an apology for a garden on each side, in which a few

weary-looking plants were trying to appear green under a thick coating of

dust and a sweltering sun; a long crescent of badly built houses, with

the exception of the handsome Aden Bank buildings, faced by an expanse of

sand and black palings,—and that is Steamer Point, as one first sees it.

But as the sun sinks low a figure or two appear, and toward sunset the

place wears a gay and flourishing appearance.

Getting my baggage into a hand-cart, I set off for the hotel, where at

least was shade and tolerable coolness, say some 90° Fahrenheit. But

in spite of its dreary aspect, in spite of the dull monotony of its

colouring, one gets quite fond of Aden. The cheery hospitality of the

garrison, the gorgeous early mornings and evenings, the delicious warm

January nights, the club, the verandahs of which are laved by the sea,

the white hulls of the men-of-war in the bay, and the pleasant evenings

spent under their awnings, dispel all the unfavourable impressions which

are at first so numerous and apparent. In a few days one has forgotten

that the whole place, from the top of Sham-sham down to the sandy

isthmus, is all a volcanic hideosity; one has forgotten that the whole

is so impregnated with salt as to almost forbid any verdure to grow, and

that, should it by chance take root, the sun is there to kill it. One

sees after a time only the picturesqueness of the place,—the strange torn

mountain-peaks; the gay thronging crowd of many nationalities all bent on

their several businesses, except the Jews, who seem bent upon everybody

else’s; and the Somalis, who are as indifferent to the general world as

they are to the heat, excepting when a passing steamer lands for an hour

or two a flock of extraordinarily habited travellers—and then the cabs

fly backwards and forwards, the ponies kicking up the dust, their feet

rattling along the hard roads and making almost as much noise as the

cracking of the jehus’ whips; then the Jews, the money-changers, pass

and repass, spilling their coins one by one from hand to hand, until the

very jingling drives one frantic; and the black urchins, who have learnt

English enough to lie with facility, and to beg, worry, and bother until

they are paid to go away, appear. Then the curio-seller, be he Greek

or Jew or swarthy Indian, creeps out from amongst his moth-eaten lion

and leopard skins and his boxes of stale “Turkish delight,” and with

outstretched hands bids the traveller enter. Then, too, there is the

jingling of long tumblers on the wide verandah of the hotel, and a crowd

of boats in readiness at the landing-place. Just like a flock of locusts

they come and stay their hour or two, and just like a flock of locusts

they go, some outward bound, some returning home; and Steamer Point is

itself again.

Often as Aden has been described, it is necessary here to make some

mention of its various sights and the varied scenes it presents; for, as

part and parcel of the Yemen, it cannot be passed over in a book that

attempts to deal with that country. If, however, the reader has been

there, or has read more pretentious accounts of it, let him skip it over.

Hated, spoken of as typical of the infernal regions, ugly as it is, Aden

perhaps can claim an antiquity and an importance throughout all history

unparalleled, for its size and its situation, in the annals of the

world. When countries, now the centres of vast civilisations, consisted

of primeval forests, inhabited by almost primeval man, and filled with

wild beasts, Aden was an emporium of trade. With every possible natural

disadvantage, except its harbour and its situation, it was inhabited

by merchants, who collected and reshipped by vessel and by caravan the

wealth of many lands. Africa, India, the Persian Gulf, poured on to the

arid volcanic rock their gold and their purples, their spices and their

precious stones.

“Arabia, and all the princes of Kedar, they occupied with thee in lambs,

and rams, and goats: in these were they thy merchants. The merchants of

Sheba and Raamah, they were thy merchants: they occupied in thy fairs

with chief of all spices, and with all precious stones, and gold. Haran,

and Canneh, and _Eden_, the merchants of Sheba, Asshur, and Chilmad,

were thy merchants.”[31] There is no doubt in the minds of competent

authorities that the place here referred to as Eden is none other than

Aden, while many other of the names mentioned have been identified with

ruins and towns of modern Arabia; but of this more anon.

Ibn Khaldun, in his geographical notes on the Yemen, writing in the

eighth century A.H., mentions the extreme antiquity of Aden, speaking of

it as a place of importance in the time of the Tubbas, who were the kings

descended from Himyar, son of Abd esh-Shems, great-grandson of Kahtan,

said to be the Joktan of the Jewish Scriptures, the founder of the

oldest authentic tribes in the Yemen; for although they migrated to that

country, there are no remains to be traced of the inhabitants who were

there before them.

Returning to more historical times, we find that during the reigns of one

of the Cæsars, probably Claudius, Aden was destroyed by the Romans,[32]

probably in order to divert the trade of India to the ports which Ælius

Gallus had founded on the shores of the Red Sea, to which Aden proved,

no doubt, a formidable rival. Later we find it conquered by the army of

Constantine, and re-named Emporium Romanum.

Returning once more to oriental sources, we find the place split up by

the wars and factions which were so constant throughout the Yemen, and

Aden several times was besieged and conquered. Most important, perhaps,

of these early monarchs was the line of Hamdani princes, who, descended

from the Beni Zuray, held it from about 440 A.H. with many ups and downs

of fortune, until in A.H. 569 it was conquered by the troops of Turan

Shah of the Ayyubite dynasty of Egypt.

In 1487, some three hundred years after the accession of the Ayyubite

Sultans over Aden, a period of continued strife, we find the place

visited by a Portuguese by name John Pedro de Covilham. This expedition

was organised to explore that quarter of the globe after an ambassador

had been sent to Florence by the Christian King of Abyssinia whom we

have learned to know by the name of Prester John. Covilham eventually

ended his days at Shoa, at the Court of Iskander, or Alexander, the then

reigning prince.

From the next European, however, who visited Aden we have a more

succinct account, though unfortunately his work upon the subject of his

travels[33] is so taken up with personal narrative, and his names are so

unreliable, that it is with some difficulty that historical events are

recognised. I refer to Ludovico de Barthema, known also as Vertomanus,

who travelled in Arabia about the year 1504.

Albuquerque’s attack upon Aden forms one of the most interesting items

in its history, and short notice must be taken of it here. The sovereign

of Abyssinia at this epoch was a Christian, Queen Helena by name, who,

wishing to obtain assistance by which to keep off the Arab invasions into

her own country, sent an Armenian envoy to the Court of Lisbon. After

wandering about in a somewhat vague way for several years—he went _viâ_

India, where he was detained twenty-three months—he at length, in 1513,

arrived at Lisbon. He found on his arrival that an expedition was already

organised to carry out the proposals he was bringing from his queen,

and in command of which Alphonso de Albuquerque left India in February

of the same year with two thousand five hundred men, two-thirds of them

Portuguese, the rest Indians. On Easter eve they arrived at Aden, and

at once attacked the place. After a siege of four days further efforts

were found to be useless; and bombarding the town, and destroying the

native shipping, the Portuguese flotilla sailed for the Red Sea. A second

attempt on the part of Albuquerque to take Aden the following spring

again failed, owing to the fact that it had meanwhile been refortified.

A few years later, in 1516 A.D., Aden was again besieged, this time by

an expedition sent from Egypt under Raïs Suleiman; but the city was

again found to be impregnable, and the attacking force suffered very

considerable loss. However, so weakened had the fortifications been by

these repeated attacks, that when Soarez arrived shortly afterwards, the

governor surrendered the place into his hands; but on the Portuguese

attempting to follow and capture Suleiman’s fleet, the governor made

haste to repair the fortifications, and on Soarez’s return he found

himself baffled, and Aden more firmly in the hands of the Amir Morjaun

than ever.

Meanwhile Suleiman had organised an enormous fleet, with part of which he

visited Aden. The city was taken by treachery; for the governor, having

been enticed on board the ships, was hung, and soldiers landed on beds

under the pretence that they were sick men. In 1551 the inhabitants,

oppressed by the cruel representatives left by Suleiman, rebelled, and

ceded Aden to the Portuguese.

It is not for nearly fifty years later than this date that we find the

English in these seas. On the 8th April 1609 a ship belonging to the East

India Company, by name the Ascension, visited Aden. Received with every

possible courtesy, the captain was, when once safely in the hands of the

governor, entrapped and imprisoned, and only allowed to leave Aden after

paying heavy fines in goods and money. A year later the Darling and the

Peppercorn arrived, under the command of Admiral Sir Henry Middleton.

On the Darling proceeding to Mokha, the crew of the Peppercorn were

treacherously seized and detained in prison.

The Dutch were the next to appear upon the scene, Van den Broeck

arriving with a fleet in 1614, in order to found trading relations

between the natives and the Dutch East India Company. Their overtures

were exceedingly well received by the officials, but the jealousy of the

more influential native merchants prevented their being able to come to

any satisfactory arrangement. From this period until the beginning of

the present century Aden shared the ups and downs of fate that are so

frequent in all oriental places; but as any account of these would prove

tedious, they can very well be omitted. In 1802 we find Aden visited

by Sir Home Popham, who, having failed in concluding a treaty with the

Imam of Sanaa, was able to enter upon and carry through a commercial

and amicable treaty with the then Sultan of Aden. As late as 1833 we

find another example of the treachery of the natives of Aden. Turkchee

Bilmas, as Mahammed Agha was nicknamed, after his series of extraordinary

victories, having demanded and received the surrender of the governor of

Aden, sent thither a mission of forty persons. They were well received,

but during the night more than half their number were foully murdered,

the rest escaping in miserable plight.

In 1835 steamers of the Indian Government having harboured in Aden, made

use of it as a coaling-station; but it was, on account of the difficulty

of obtaining labour, changed for Makulla, a port to the east on the

Hadramaut coast. After, in 1837, being sacked by the Foudtheli tribe, the

attention of the Indian Government was called to Aden by the fact that a

ship flying British colours, the Deria Dowlat, being wrecked near that

port, the vessel was looted, and the passengers, some of whom were native

ladies of rank, insultingly treated. Captain Haines, in command of the

war-sloop Coote, arrived in December, and laid a claim before the Sultan

for twelve thousand dollars compensation. A plot being in the air to

obtain possession of the person and papers of Captain Haines, he sailed

for India, returning in October 1838 to enforce the carrying out of the

cession of Aden in return for an annual payment to the Sultan of nearly

nine thousand dollars a-year. Having been insultingly treated, Captain

Haines commenced to blockade the port, until, in January 1839, H.M.S.

Volage and H.M.S. Cruizer arrived upon the scene. A message to surrender

being left unanswered, the town was bombarded and taken, the Sultan and

his family escaping to Lahej, a city some thirty miles in the interior.

The capture of Aden is curious as being the first addition to the Empire

made during the reign of Queen Victoria.

It is wonderful to notice how soon it became apparent to the natives that

they had nothing to fear from the British occupation; but, in spite of

this feeling of satisfaction in the eyes of the lower-class natives and

the merchants, the chiefs of the Abdali tribe, in spite of solemn bonds

to the contrary, attempted to retake the place. In this they failed, and,

exasperated at their want of success, commenced a series of depredations

upon the caravans and local property of Arabs residing in Aden. After a

severe struggle in 1841, in which two Arab forts on the mainland were

destroyed by the British troops, affairs remained in a more peaceful

condition until, in 1846, Seyed Ismail, a fanatical Shereef, preached a

holy war and the retaking of Aden from the infidels. Augmented by many

local tribes, three separate attempts were made upon Aden, each of which

was successfully repulsed. Like all such failures in the East, the Seyed

was stamped as an impostor, and, his army having dissolved, he was killed

by a Bedouin in 1848. In 1850 the crew of a man-of-war’s boat landing

on the north side of the bay was attacked, and some of the number were

wounded, one man being killed. A still more melancholy affair happened

in February 1851, when a shooting-party was attacked at the village of

Wáhat, of whom Captain Milne was killed and several others badly wounded.

A series of like depredations and outrages continued to take place, until

in 1858 an attack was made upon the Arabs and the battle of Sheikh Othman

fought, which ended in the blowing up of the fort and the village, and

the opening of negotiations for a friendly understanding between the

British Government and the Abdali Sultan.

From this time on affairs became more quiet; but on the Turks conquering

the interior of the Yemen in 1872—they had held a firm footing on the

Red Sea coast before this period—it was found necessary to demand the

withdrawal of the Osmanli forces from the tribe lands surrounding

Aden. At this epoch, too, Little Aden, a sister peninsula which forms

the western shore of the Aden bay, was purchased, and in 1883 British

territory was extended across the isthmus, by which arrangement the

entire shores of the harbour fell under the jurisdiction of the British

Government. Included in this deed of purchase is the village of Sheikh

Othman, now a flourishing little township, with a police station and a

clock tower dominating its principal square. Bungalows have been built

there and gardens laid out, and Sheikh Othman to-day presents quite a

prosperous appearance, though the less said about its inhabitants, for

the most part Arab dancing-girls, the better.

Thus, then, the extent of territory in the possession of the British

Government in the vicinity of Aden may be described as follows: Aden on

the east, Little Aden on the west, and an intermediate strip along the

north shore of the bay; the total area forming some seventy square miles.

Of these, Aden alone is fortified.

The peninsula is situated one hundred and twenty miles from the Straits

of Bab el-Mandeb, in latitude 12° 47′ N., and longitude 45° E. It is

five miles in length and three in breadth, and consists of hills of

bare grey-black rock, the highest of which, Jibel Sham-sham, reaches

an altitude of nearly eighteen hundred feet above the sea-level. The

volcanic origin of the place is clearly demonstrated by the fact that

there exists a large crater, which, owing to the broken spurs of rock

by which it is surrounded, renders a greater portion of the peninsula

uninhabitable. However, in such parts as are suitable for building the

most has been made, and an extraordinary number of people find room

to exist upon the barren rock, which of itself produces none of the

necessities of life. Including the population of Sheikh Othman, the

census return in 1891 was over thirty-eight thousand, whereas at the time

of the British conquest in 1839 the population numbered only some six

thousand.

The greater portion of the population consists of Arabs and Somalis. The

Arabs are for the most part labourers, ship-coalers, and some shopkeepers

and traders. The Somalis prefer the lighter trade of cab-driving, the

rowing of small boats, and such work. They seem perfectly incapable of

stationary labour, and unable to conquer their nomad traits. Almost

every nationality is found in Aden: besides the Europeans there are

Hindus, Parsees, Turks, Egyptian Arabs, Persians, Chinese, Seedy boys,

Abyssinians, Jews, and many natives of India of different types and

classes. Principal amongst the British Indian subjects are the Parsees,

who act as agents and shopkeepers, in which professions they equal the

meanness—or shall I call it business talent—of the Jews. One sees them

everywhere with their long white flimsy garments and curious head-gear

resembling a coal-scuttle. They have brought to Aden a spark of the

ever-living fire of Bombay, and have established themselves there with

their temples and womenfolk, and are annexing a very considerable

proportion of the trade.

The peninsula of Aden boasts two towns and an important village. The

former are Aden proper, situated on the level bottom of the crater,

and Tawahi, at Steamer Point, which contains some seven hundred houses,

inhabited for the most part by those who gain a livelihood dependent

upon the shipping. The large town of Aden proper contains some eighteen

thousand inhabitants. The principal village is Maala, where the native

craft, strange dhows and _bugalas_, anchor; and here nearly all the

native trade is shipped or landed, as the case may be.

Before entering upon any description of Aden as it appears to the

traveller of to-day, it may be as well to finish such statistics as are

necessary here. First, as to the anchorage that Aden affords to shipping.

The bay, which attains its greatest length almost due east and west,

consists of two distinct portions, the inner and the outer harbour. The

former, almost landlocked, extends to a length of some five miles, while

the latter is the large portion lying between Little Aden and Aden. The

depth varies from three to five fathoms in the western bay and at the

entrance, while a couple of miles outside ten and twelve fathoms can

be found. A small island in the inner harbour, opposite Tawahi, serves

the purpose of a quarantine station. Very considerable improvements

have lately been carried out, and the depth of certain anchorage in the

inner bay successfully increased by aid of a large dredger—a veritable

eyesore amongst the strange and picturesque native craft with which at

certain times the bay is crowded. The larger steamers, such as the P.

and O. and the Messageries Maritimes, lie at some distance from the

shore, toward the mouth of the harbour; but the British India, Austrian

Lloyd’s, and several other important lines, bring their ships in close

under Steamer Point. This, however, is due to the fact that they usually

remain a longer time there, and that it affords them greater and cheaper

facilities for coaling.

It is, of course, as a coaling-station that Aden is most renowned. In

1891 some 165,000 tons were imported, which, together with the other

trade of the colony, brings the value of imports and exports up to a sum

of over five millions sterling per annum. What result the opening of the

coaling-station on the island of Perim may have on the coal trade of Aden

remains yet to be seen, but it seems improbable that, as was said at the

time, it will ever become a more important place than the other.

Apart from the commerce in coal, there is by no means an unimportant

trade carried on with the neighbouring coasts of Arabia, the Persian

Gulf, the Red Sea, and the African coast. This is principally in the

hands of native merchants, and a very considerable quantity of the

cargo is transported in native sailing craft. The chief articles are

hides, coffee, feathers, gums, dyes, spices and perfumes, silk, and

mother-of-pearl shells and ivory.

The coffee trade which now finds its outlet at Aden was formerly

almost entirely in the hands of the Mokha and Hodaidah merchants; but

the former town is now deserted, and the heavy dues of the Turkish

authorities at the latter have diverted a large part of the coffee to

Aden, a free port, although a considerable amount is still shipped from

Hodaidah to Aden by sea. The coffee which reaches Aden direct is brought

down by caravan from the highlands of the interior and sold to the Aden

merchants. A very considerable quantity is also brought across from the

African coast, shipped almost entirely from Zeilah, one of the Somali

ports, to which spot it is brought on camels from the highlands of Harrar

and the Galla country, all of which is practically suitable to the growth

of the coffee tree, which necessitates a high altitude above the level of

the sea. The ostrich-feathers are the produce of Somali and the Donakil

country. Mother-of-pearl shells are brought from the Persian Gulf and the

Red Sea fisheries, and ivory from Somali-land and Abyssinia. The food for

the garrison is imported from the African coast and from Arabia. Sheep

and goats are weekly shipped in large quantities from Berbera, Bulhar,

and Zeilah; while oxen, vegetables, fodder, and fuel are brought in by

camel-caravan from Lahej and the surrounding country.

What, however, astonishes one about Aden is the fact that it has no local

industries. All skilled labour has to be imported from China or India;

while even such simple trades as mat-making, boat-building, and suchlike

are almost neglected.

The climate of Aden is by no means so bad as it is generally described

to be, and I believe that statistical returns give a very fair average

of health there. The temperature for the whole year averages about 85°

Fahr. in the shade, the extremes being 72° and 102°. During my visit

the thermometer only once rose above 90°, and then only for a short

period, and once fell as low as 74°. The sky during the winter months is

unclouded, and the climate may be said to be delightful, though great

care must be taken not to get chilled at sundown. Early in June the

south-west monsoon breaks. Damp and unpleasant as this ocean wind may

seem, it is the sole cause that renders Aden inhabitable for Europeans

during the summer. The changes of the monsoon, May and September, are

the worst periods in the year, the thermometer often varying only

between 100° in the day and 90° at night! The rainfall of Aden is very

changeable, in some years rising to eight inches, in others being only

one-fourth of an inch; but it is sufficient to keep alive a few plants,

that do their little best to break the monotony of the dull rocks. After

a shower the valleys sometimes wear quite a green appearance, but as

a rule this does not last long, for the sun and dust soon dry them up

again. However, it is said that there are no less than one hundred and

thirty species, of over forty different orders, the most common being

_Euphorbiaceæ_, the _Acacia eburnea_, _Caparidiciæ_, and the lovely

_Adenum obesum_. A few wild dogs, jackals, and foxes can be found in

the rocky valleys; and birds are common—kites, hawks, flycatchers, and

wagtails being permanent residents, while many species pay the place an

occasional visit.[34]

Having thus briefly run through the statistics of Aden to such an extent

as I deem necessary for a work of this kind, I will continue with the

personal narrative of my journey, and, having exhausted my books of

reference, describe Aden as it appeared to me.

I have said elsewhere that the terrible feeling of oppression soon wears

off, and that, after only a few days’ residence in the place, one has

forgotten how truly desolate and dreary are the great brown peaks that

rear their heads so far above one on all sides. I never was in a place

that so shocks one at first, and yet which one so quickly comes to

like. It took only a day or two to shake off the feeling of the hideous

barrenness of the place; and having made a few friends, I soon began to

perceive how charming life can be made with all the disadvantages of such

surroundings and climate as Aden possesses.

The club, the very verandahs of which are laved by the sea-waves, is

one of the best of its kind in the East; and many a pleasant evening

I spent there, listening now and again to a military band which once

a-week discourses sweet music in its precincts. Pleasantest amongst many

pleasant recollections of Aden is the kindness I was shown by all with

whom I came in contact—kindness that extended not only to entertaining,

but in rendering me great service in arranging my journey into the

interior of the Yemen. I cannot here attempt to thank all those who took

pity on a stranger, but I must not pass on without saying how grateful I

am to General Jopp, H.M. Political Resident, and to Colonel Stace, C.B.,

Assistant-Resident, for their many kindnesses.

As soon as I had settled in at my hotel and rested a day to study my

whereabouts, I set to work to see the sights of the place. Fortunately

they are not very many, though some of them, such as the street scenes

in the bazaars, one can never tire of looking at. Our hotel, too, was a

“sight.” It was full of curiosities, from the exceedingly stout and none

too clean Greek who kept the place, to the dirtiest of dirty kitchens

I ever saw. The centre courtyard, surrounded by a rickety balcony, had

once been used as a _café-chantant_, and the stage and framework still

remained, festooned with cobwebs. Below, the Greek kept a curiosity-shop,

which seemed principally to contain moth-eaten skins of what once may

have been wild beasts, and rusty Somali spears. His “Turkish delight”

was good. I found he sold it to my servant at exactly half the price he

charged me, so I made Abdurrahman buy it in future, and between us and

Saïd, my Yemen man, we did a large business with him. However, on the

whole, the place was inhabitable, and in a climate like Aden one lives

mostly out of doors on the verandahs.

My first stroll to see the sights was confined to the little town of

Tawahi, in which the hotel was situated, and which is generally known

under the more general designation of Steamer Point. There is little to

see in this quarter, though a crowd of natives lying out on their long

wood-and-string beds in front of the tiny _cafés_, smoking the murmuring

hubble-bubble, is always a picturesque sight. But it is only in the back

streets that one finds this, the front of the town being faced with

what is called Prince of Wales Crescent—in other words, a semicircle of

ill-built stucco houses, with the exception of the handsome offices of

Messrs Luke, Thomas, & Co., to whose representative, Mr Vidal, I am under

many obligations for kindness. Facing these hideosities of houses is an

open sandy space, in which a few young palm-trees, caged and coddled,

were trying to grow. A row of black palings divides this sandy space from

the beach. A hideous cab-stand of galvanised iron roofing does not add to

the picturesqueness of the scene; nor, for the matter of that, does the

thin filmy coal-dust that so often floats upon the breeze, to dirty one’s

white clothes and render life gritty and unbearable. Yet in spite of this

depressing view—in spite of the bare rocks that rise above the town—all

my recollections of Tawahi are pleasant.

Having explored this little township, which can be done comfortably in

half an hour, I entered upon a longer undertaking,—I chartered a rickety

conveyance and drove to Aden proper. The town lies in the centre of the

crater of an extinct volcano, and one cannot help thinking how unpleasant

it would be for the inhabitants did the eruption that must once have

taken place recommence.

[Illustration: _Main Pass, Aden._]

Driving from Steamer Point to Aden, a distance of some four or five

miles, is by no means an exciting process, although one’s nerves are kept

in constant tension by the extraordinary evolutions of the cab, and the

thought that at any moment it may fall to pieces—ditto the pony, which a

Somali jehu on the box causes by aid of his whip to keep up to a gallop.

Through the pass of Hedfaf, along the flat that leads to the village

of Maala—its harbour crowded with native craft, while Arab sailors sit

mending the sails on the beach—away up the winding road to the Main Pass,

a zigzag cutting between high walls of rock, then down again, until,

issuing from the tunnel-like pass, one sees the town of Aden before one’s

eyes—a great white block, broken up by the streets that run at right

angles to one another, and disfigured by hideous barracks and Government

offices. The plain in which the town lies, being in reality the floor of

the crater, is almost a circle, from which torn and ragged spurs of rock

rise on all sides, except where through a gap one can catch a glimpse of

the sea and Seerah island, until they join in the peaks of Sham-sham and

its neighbours. There is but little to attract the eye about the desolate

prospect, except the relief afforded by the clean white town. Away on one

of the hill-tops stands a tower. Like the Towers of Silence at Bombay,

it serves as the scene of the strange funeral rites of the Parsees; and

here the birds of prey congregate to devour the corpse, too impure to

defile fire or earth or water.

But the sight of all Aden is the tanks. I remember long before I

visited Aden listening one evening during a long sea-voyage to an old

ship’s-carpenter discoursing on the Bible. “The Garden of Eden!” he said;

“why, of course it’s true! It’s Aden to-day, and there’s the tanks to

prove it. I seed ’em with my own eyes.” However, in spite of the dear

old man’s religious beliefs being strengthened by having seen the famous

Aden tanks, I fear they can claim no such antiquity as that with which

he connected them. In all probability these great reservoirs were built

at the time of the second Persian invasion, in the seventh century A.D.

In this case the tanks at Aden are much later in date than many of those

existing in Southern Arabia, of which the most important was, without

doubt, the great dam of Mareb, or Sheba as we know it. Although I was not

fortunate enough in my travels in the Yemen to be able to reach the ruins

of this extraordinary work, I think that a few words upon the subject may

not be out of place here.

The dam of Mareb was built probably some 1700 years B.C. by Lokman

the Adite, though some authorities attribute its construction to Abd

esh-shems, father of Himyar, founder of the Himyaric dynasty, and

great-grandson of Kahtan—Joktan of the Hebrew Scriptures. Monsieur

d’Arnaud, who visited Saba in 1843, describes the ruins of the dam.

He says that it consisted of an enormous wall, two miles long and one

hundred and seventy-five paces wide, connecting two hills. Dikes allowed

the water to escape for the irrigation of the plain below. These openings

are at different levels, so as to render practicable a supply of water

at whatever height the contents of the reservoir might stand. The

destruction of this great work took place probably about a hundred years

after the birth of Christ; but although the catastrophe is referred to

in the Koran, no certain date can be affixed to its occurrence. The fact

that it stood the enormous pressure of water which must have constantly

been present for some seventeen hundred years, testifies to the immensity

and solidity of its construction.

The tanks at Aden cannot, of course, compare with the dam of Mareb, yet

they are in their way colossal undertakings, and the labour and time

expended in their construction must have been enormous. They number about

fifty altogether, and if in working order, would be capable of holding

upwards of thirty million gallons. We know that at the time of the

invasion of Raïs Suleiman in 1538, the inhabitants of Aden were entirely

dependent upon these great cisterns for their water-supply. On Captain

Haines visiting Aden in 1835, he found several of the tanks in use, but

many were filled up with the _debris_ that the torrents had washed from

the mountains above.

In 1856 the restoration of the tanks was commenced, and now thirteen are

in working order, capable of holding nearly eight million gallons of

water. Their site is well chosen. They lie above the town, immediately

under the high rocks that form the foot of Jibel Sham-sham, and in such

a position that all the drainage of the rain-water is accumulated into

channels, and poured into the succession of cisterns that lie one above

another.

The tanks are formed in various ways: some are cut into the solid bed

of the rock, which is covered with a hard polished cement; others are

dams built across the ravine; while a third variety of shape is formed

by angles in the precipices being made use of, two of the walls of

the cistern perhaps being the natural stone, and the others formed of

masonry. The upper tanks are the first filled, the lower for the most

part being supplied from the overflow of those above. In spite of the

enormous space to contain the water and the slight rainfall of Aden,

a series of heavy showers will not only fill the tanks, but cause an

overflow stream of such bulk that very considerable damage has at times

been caused by it, as it poured along its channel through the town to the

sea.

It was upon these tanks and a few poor wells that Aden at one time

depended entirely for water, until in fact, in the fifteenth century,

when Abdul Wahab constructed the aqueduct that brought water from Bir

Ahmed into the town.

Beyond these tanks there is but little to see of the long-past glories of

old Aden; nor have the Arabs displayed in their modern buildings, with

the exception of one decorative mosque, any attempt at architectural

beauty. Mons. de Merveille, who visited Aden in 1708, has left a

description of the ruins of wonderful marble baths that he saw at that

time; but no remains of these are known to exist to-day, nor is there

any trace of the mosque built by Yasir or the pulpit of the Day Imran.

In fact, beyond the tanks, its historical traditions, and the strange

peoples who flock its streets, Aden can claim but little to interest the

traveller.

What a sight the bazaars of Aden present of an evening! Often and often

I would drive out just to spend the last hour or two of daylight in idly

sauntering through its streets. What strange peoples are to be seen

there! Indians gorgeous in scarlet and gold and tinsel; Somalis in their

plain white _tobes_, their hair left long and hanging like the cords of a

Russian poodle on either side of their heads, and often their raven locks

are dyed a strange brick-dust red colour by a clay they smear over them;

Arabs, too, with long black silky curls bursting from under their small

turbans, nude fellows, except for their loin-cloth of native-dyed indigo

cotton, the colour of which clings to their copper skins with strange

effect; creeping, crawling Jews; niggers from Zanzibar; Persians and

Arabs from Bagdad; Parsees and Greeks.

Then is the time, when the heat of the day is over, to seek some _café_

at the corner of a street, and watch the people pass. Here at a table

four Somali warriors, glorious in their very blackness, are playing

dominoes with the manners of _bourgeois_ on the boulevards; there a group

of Arabs are chatting over a hubble-bubble pipe, the mouthpiece of which

they pass one to another, over cups of the husks of the coffee-berry,

their favourite beverage.

Great strings of camels pass and repass in the street. Rickety

cabs rattle along, the drivers calling to the crowd to make way;

and throughout the whole permeates Tommy Atkins, sublime in his

self-consciousness, and a very good fellow withal. Ay, the bazaars of an

evening are a sight to be seen,—a collection of strange peoples, only

to be equalled perhaps on the bridge between Stamboul and Galata at

Constantinople.

There remains but one more sight to see in Aden, the tunnel that connects

the town with the isthmus, and which passes under the Munsoorie hills.

This excavation is three hundred and fifty yards in length, and is lit

throughout with artificial lights. It is sufficiently high and wide to

allow of carriage and caravan traffic. A second tunnel connects two

separate portions of the isthmus lines.

Immense improvements have lately been carried out in the fortifications

of Aden, and during the time of the writer’s visit several new forts

were being erected. There is no doubt that the strategic position of

the peninsula justifies a large expenditure upon its defences. The

immense value it would prove in time of war as a coaling-station cannot

be overrated. At the present period its garrison consists of the Aden

troop of cavalry, three batteries of the Royal Artillery, one regiment

of British infantry, one regiment of native infantry, and one company

of sappers; while in the bay lies a gunboat and a transport steamer

of the Indian marine. The troops are spread over the peninsula, the

cavalry having lines on the isthmus itself. Altogether, when the new

fortifications are completed, Aden may be said to be, both as regards

its defensive powers and in its commercial character, one of the most

successful spots in the world.

A journey through the Yemen and some general remarks upon that country · 第 1 / 11 章