We were all heartily sick of Cosseir embarkations, but the vessel of

Sidi Ali el Meymoum, tho’ small, was tight and well-rigged; had sails

of canvas, and had navigated in the Indian Ocean; the Rais had four

stout men on board, apparently good sailors; he himself, though near

sixty, was a very active, vigorous little man, and to the full as good

a sailor as he was a saint. It was on the 5th of April, after having

made my last observation of longitude at Cosseir, that I embarked on

board this vessel, and sailed from that port. It was necessary to

conceal from some of my servants our intention of proceeding to the

bottom of the Gulf, least, finding themselves among Christians so near

Cairo, they might desert a voyage of which they were sick, before it

was well begun.

For the first two days we had hazy weather, with little wind. In the

evening, the wind fell calm. We saw a high land to the south-west of

us, very rugged and broken, which seemed parallel to the coast, and

higher in the middle than at either end. This, we conceived, was the

mountain that divides the coast of the Red Sea from the eastern part of

the Valley of Egypt, corresponding to Monfalout and Siout. We brought

to, in the night, behind a small low Cape, tho’ the wind was fair, our

Rais being afraid of the Jassateen Islands, which we knew were not far

a-head.

We caught a great quantity of fine fish this night with a line, some of

them weighing 14 pounds. The best were blue in the back, like a salmon,

but their belly red, and marked with blue round spots. They resembled a

salmon in shape, but the fish was white, and not so firm.

In the morning of the 6th we made the Jaffateen Islands. They are

four in number, joined by shoals and sunken rocks. They are crooked,

or bent, like half a bow, and are dangerous for ships sailing in the

night, because there seems to be a passage between them, to which, when

pilots are attending, they neglect two small dangerous sunk rocks, that

lie almost in the middle of the entrance, in deep water.

I understood, afterwards, from the Rais, that, had it not been from

some marks he saw of blowing weather, he would not have come in to the

Jaffateen Islands, but stood directly for Tor, running between the

island Sheduan, and a rock which is in the middle of the channel, after

you pass Ras Mahomet. But we lay so perfectly quiet, the whole night,

that we could not but be grateful to the Rais for his care, although we

had seen no apparent reason for it.

Next morning, the 7th, we left our very quiet birth in the bay, and

stood close, nearly south-east, along-side of the two southermost

Jaffateen Islands, our head upon the center of Sheduan, till we had

cleared the eastermost of those islands about three miles. We then

passed Sheduan, leaving it to the eastward about three leagues, and

keeping nearly a N. N. W. course, to range the west side of Jibbel

Zeit. This is a large desert island, or rock, that is about four miles

from the main.

The passage between them is practicable by small craft only, whose

planks are sewed together, and are not affected by a stroke upon

hard ground; for it is not for want of water that this navigation is

dangerous. All the west coast is very bold, and has more depth of water

than the east; but on this side there is no anchoring ground, nor

shoals. It is a rocky shore, and there is depth of water every where,

yet that part is full of sunken rocks; which, though not visible, are

near enough the surface to take up a large ship, whose destruction

thereupon becomes inevitable. This I presume arises from one cause.

The mountains on the side of Egypt and Abyssinia are all (as we have

stated) hard stone, Porphyry, Granite, Alabaster, Basaltes, and many

sorts of Marble. These are all therefore fixed, and even to the

northward of lat. 16°, where there is no rain, very small quantities

of dust or sand can ever be blown from them into the sea. On the

opposite, or Arabian side, the sea-coast of the Hejaz, and that of

the Tehama, are all moving sands; and the dry winter-monsoon from the

south-east blows a large quantity from the deserts, which is lodged

among the rocks on the Arabian side of the Gulf, and confined there by

the north-east or summer-monsoon, which is in a contrary direction, and

hinders them from coming over, or circulating towards the Egyptian side.

From this it happens, that the west, or Abyssinian side, is full of

deep water, interspersed with sunken rocks, unmasked, or uncovered

with sand, with which they would otherwise become islands. These are

naked and bare all round, and sharp like points of spears; while on the

east-side there are rocks, indeed, as in the other, but being between

the south-east monsoon, which drives the sand into its coast, and the

north-west monsoon which repels it, and keeps it in there, every rock

on the Arabian shore becomes an _Iland_, and every two or three islands

become a harbour.

Upon the ends of the principal of these harbours large heaps of stones

have been piled up, to serve as signals, or marks, how to enter; and it

is in these that the large vessels from Cairo to Jidda, equal in size

to our 74 gun ships, (but from the cisterns of mason-work built within

for holding water, I suppose double their weight) after navigating

their portion of the channel in the day, come safely and quietly to, at

four o’clock in the afternoon, and in these little harbours pass the

night, to sail into the channel again, next morning at sun-rise.

Therefore, though in the track of my voyage to Tor, I am seen running

from the west side of Jibbel Zeit a W. N. W. course (for I had no place

for a compass) into the harbour of Tor, I do not mean to do so bad a

service to humanity as to persuade large ships to follow my track.

There are two ways of instructing men usefully, in things absolutely

unknown to them. The first is, to teach them what they can do safely.

The next is, to teach them what they cannot do at all, or, warranted by

a pressing occasion, attempt with more or less danger, which should be

explained and placed before their eyes, for without this last no man

knows the extent of his own powers. With this view, I will venture,

without fear of contradiction, to say, that my course from Cosseir, or

even from Jibbel Siberget, to Tor, is impossible to a great ship. My

voyage, painful, full of care, and dangerous as it was, is not to be

accounted a surety for the lives of thousands. It may be regarded as a

foundation for surveys hereafter to be made by persons more capable,

and better protected; and in this case will, I hope, be found a

valuable fragment, because, whatever have been my conscientious fears

of running servants, who work for pay, into danger of losing their

lives by peril of the sea, yet I can safely say, that never did the

face of man, or fear of danger to myself, deter me from verifying with

my eyes, what my own hands have put upon paper.

In the days of the Ptolemies, and, as I shall shew, long before, the

west coast of the Red Sea, where the deepest water, and most dangerous

rocks are, was the track which the Indian and African ships chose, when

loaded with the richest merchandise that ever vessels since carried.

The Ptolemies built a number of large cities on this coast; nor do we

hear that ships were obliged to abandon that track, from the disasters

that befel them in the navigation. On the contrary, they avoided the

coast of Arabia; and one reason, among others, is plain why they

should;--they were loaded with the most valuable commodities, gold,

ivory, gums, and precious stones; room for stowage on board therefore

was very valuable.

Part of this trade, when at its greatest perfection, was carried on in

vessels with oars. We know from the prophet Ezekiel[165], 700 years

before Christ, or 300 after Solomon had finished his trade with Africa

and India, that they did not always make use of sails in the track of

the monsoons; and consequently a great number of men must have been

necessary for so tedious a voyage. A number of men being necessary, a

quantity of water was equally so; and this must have taken up a great

deal of stowage. Now, no where on the coast of Abyssinia could they

want water two days; and scarce any where, on the coast of Arabia,

could they be sure of it once in fifteen, and from this the western

coast was called _Ber el Ajam_[166], corruptly Azamia, _the country of

water_, in opposition to the eastern shore, called _Ber el Arab_, where

there was none.

A deliberate survey became absolutely necessary, and as in proportion

to the danger of the coast pilots became more skilful, when once they

had obtained more complete knowledge of the rocks and dangers, they

preferred the boldest shore, because they could stand on all night, and

provide themselves with water every day. Whereas, on the Arabian side,

they could not sail but half the day, would be obliged to lie to all

night, and to load themselves with water, equal to half their cargo.

I now shall undertake to point out to large ships, the way by which

they can safely enter the Gulf of Suez, so as that they may be

competent judges of their own course, in case of accident, without

implicitly surrendering themselves, and property, into the hands of

pilots.

In the first place, then, I am very confident, that, taking their

departure from Jibbel el Ourée, ships may safely stand on all night

mid-channel, until they are in the latitude of Yambo.

The Red Sea maybe divided into four parts, of which the Channel

occupies two, till about lat. 26°, or nearly that of Cosseir. On the

west side it is deep water, with many rocks, as I have already said.

On the east side, that quarter is occupied by islands, that is, sand

gathered about the rocks, the causes whereof I have before mentioned;

between which there are channels of very deep water, and harbours, that

protect the largest ships in any winds. But among these, from Mocha

down to Suez, you must sail with a pilot, and during part of the day

only.

To a person used to more civilized countries, it appears no great

hardship to sail with a pilot, if you can get one, and in the Red Sea

there are plenty; but these are creatures without any sort of science,

who decide upon a manœuvre in a moment, without forethought, or any

warning given. Such pilots often, in a large ship deeply loaded, with

every sail out which she can carry, in a very instant cry out to let go

your anchors, and bring you to, all standing, in the face of a rock,

or sand. Were not our seamen’s vigour, and celerity in execution,

infinitely beyond the skill and foresight of those pilots, I believe

very few ships, coming the inward passage among the islands, would ever

reach the port in safety.

If you are, however, going to Suez, without the consent of the

Sherriffe of Mecca, that is, not intending to sell your cargo at

Jidda, or pay your custom there, then you should take in your water

at Mocha; or, if any reason should hinder you from touching that

shore, a few hours will carry you to Azab, or Saba, on the Abyssinian

coast, whose latitude I found to be 13° 5´ north. It is not a port,

but a very tolerable road, where you have very safe riding, under the

shelter of a low desert island called Crab Island, with a few rocks

at the end of it. But it must be remembered, the people are _Galla_,

the most treacherous and villanous wretches upon the earth. They are

_Shepherds_, who sometimes are on the coast in great numbers, or in

the back of the hills that run close along the shore, or in miserable

villages composed of huts, that run nearly in an east and west

direction from Azab to Raheeta, the largest of all their villages. You

will there, at Azab, get plenty of water, sheep, and goats, as also

some myrrh and incense, if you are in the proper season, or will stay

for it.

I again repeat it, that no confidence is to be had in the people. Those

of Mocha, who even are absolutely necessary to them in their commercial

transactions, cannot trust them without surety or hostages. And it was

but a few years before I was there, the surgeon and mate of the Elgin

East-India man, with several other sailors, were cut off, going on

shore with a letter of safe conduct from their Shekh to purchase myrrh.

Those that were in the boat escaped, but most of them were wounded. A

ship, on its guard, does not fear banditti like these, and you will get

plenty of water and provision, though I am only speaking of it as a

station of necessity.

If you are not afraid of being known, there is a low black island

on the Arabian coast called Camaran, it is in lat. 15° 39´, and is

distinguished by a white house, or fortress, on the west end of it,

where you will procure excellent water, in greater plenty than at Azab;

but no provisions, or only such as are very bad. If you should not wish

to be seen, however, on the coast at all, among the chain of islands

that reaches almost across the Gulf from Loheia to Masuah, there is one

called Foosht, where there is good anchorage; it is laid down in my map

in lat. 15° 59´ 43´´ N. and long. 42° 27´ E. from actual observation

taken upon the island. There is here a quantity of excellent water,

with a saint or monk to take care of it, and keep the wells clean. This

poor creature was so terrified at seeing us come ashore with fire-arms,

that he lay down upon his face on the sand; nor would he rise, or lift

up his head, till the Rais had explained to me the cause of his fear,

and till, knowing I was not in any danger of surprise, I had sent my

guns on board.

From this to Yambo there is no safe watering place. Indeed if the river

Frat were to be found, there is no need of any other watering place

in the Gulf; but it is absolutely necessary to have a pilot on board

before you make Ras Mahomet; because, over the mountains of Auche, the

Elanitic Gulf, and the Cape itself, there is often a great haze, which

lasts for many days together, and many ships are constantly lost, by

mistaking the Eastern Bay, or Elanitic Gulf, for the entrance of the

Gulf of Suez; the former has a reef of rocks nearly across it.

After you have made Sheduan, a large island three leagues farther, in

a direction nearly north and by west, is a bare rock, which, according

to their usual carelessness and indifference, they are not at the

pains to call by any other name but _Jibbel_, the rock, island, or

mountain, in general. You should not come within three full leagues of

that rock, but leave it at a distance to the westward. You will then

see shoals, which form a pretty broad channel, where you have soundings

from fifteen to thirty fathoms. And again, standing on directly upon

Tor, you have two other oval sands with sunken rocks, in the channel,

between which you are to steer. All your danger is here in sight, for

you might go in the inside, or to the eastward, of the many small

islands you see toward the shore; and there are the anchoring places

of the Cairo vessels, which are marked with the black anchor in the

draught. This is the course best known and practised by pilots for

ships of all sizes. But by a draught of Mr Niebuhr, who went from Suez

with Mahomet Rais Tobal, his track with that large ship was through the

channels, till he arrived at the point, where Tor bore a little to the

northward of east of him.

Tor may be known at a distance by two hills that stand near the water

side, which, in clear weather, may be seen six leagues off. Just to

the south-east of these is the town and harbour, where there are

some palm-trees about the houses, the more remarkable, that they are

the first you see on the coast. There is no danger in going into Tor

harbour, the soundings in the way are clean and regular; and by giving

the beacon a small birth on the larboard hand, you may haul in a little

to the northward, and anchor in five or six fathom. The bottom of the

bay is not a mile from the beacon, and about the same distance from the

opposite shore. There is no sensible tide in the middle of the Gulf,

but, by the sides, it runs full two knots an hour. At springs, it is

high water at Tor nearly at twelve o’clock.

On the 9th we arrived at Tor, a small straggling village, with

a convent of Greek Monks, belonging to Mount Sinai. Don John de

Castro[167] took this town when it was walled, and fortified, soon

after the discovery of the Indies by the Portuguese; it has never since

been of any consideration. It serves now, only as a watering-place for

ships going to, and from Suez. From this we have a distinct view of the

points of the mountains Horeb and Sinai, which appear behind and above

the others, their tops being often covered with snow in winter.

There are three things, (now I am at the north end of the Arabian

Gulf,) of which the reader will expect some account, and I am heartily

sorry to say, that I fear I shall be obliged to disappoint him in all,

by the unsatisfactory relation I am forced to give.

The first is, Whether the Red Sea is not higher than the Mediterranean,

by several feet or inches? To this I answer, That the fact has been

supposed to be so by antiquity, and alledged as a reason why Ptolemy’s

canal was made from the bottom of the Heroopolitic Gulf, rather than

brought due north across the Isthmus of Suez; in which last case, it

was feared it would submerge a great part of Asia Minor. But who has

ever attempted to verify this by experiment? or who is capable of

settling the difference of levels, amounting, as supposed, to some feet

and inches, between two points 120 miles distant from each other, over

a desert that has no settled surface, but is changing its height every

day? Besides, since all seas are, in fact, but one, what is it that

hinders the Indian Ocean to flow to its level? What is it that keeps

the Indian Ocean up?

Till this last branch of the question is resolved, I shall take it for

granted that no such difference of level exists, whatever Ptolemy’s

engineers might have pretended to him; because, to suppose it fact, is

to suppose the violation of one very material law of nature.

The next thing I have to take notice of, for the satisfaction of my

reader, is, the way by which the children of Israel passed the Red Sea

at the time of their deliverance from the land of Egypt.

As scripture teaches us, that this passage, wherever it might be, was

under the influence of a miraculous power, no particular circumstance

of breadth, or depth, makes one place likelier than another. It is a

matter of mere curiosity, and can only promote an illustration of the

scripture, for which reason, I do not decline the consideration of it.

I shall suppose, that my reader has been sufficiently convinced, by

other authors, that the land of Goshen, where the Israelites dwelt in

Egypt, was that country lying east of the Nile, and not overflowed by

it, bounded by the mountains of the Thebaid on the south, by the Nile

and Mediterranean on the west and north, and the Red Sea and desert of

Arabia on the east. It was the Heliopolitan nome, its capital was _On_;

from predilection of the letter O, common to the Hebrews, they called

it Goshen; but its proper name was _Geshen_, the country of Grass, or

Pasturage; or of the _Shepherds_; in opposition to the rest of the

land which was sown, after having been overflowed by the Nile.

There were three ways by which the children of Israel, flying from

Pharaoh, could have entered Palestine. The first was by the sea-coast

by Gaza, Askelon, and Joppa. This was the plainest and nearest way;

and, therefore, fittest for people incumbered with kneading troughs,

dough, cattle, and children. The sea-coast was full of rich commercial

cities, the mid-land was cultivated and sown with grain. The eastern

part, nearest the mountains, was full of cattle and shepherds, as rich

a country, and more powerful than the cities themselves.

This narrow valley, between the mountains and the sea, ran all

along the eastern shore of the Mediterranean, from Gaza northward,

comprehending the low part of Palestine and Syria. Now, here a small

number of men might have passed, under the laws of hospitality; nay,

they did constantly pass, it being the high road between Egypt, and

Tyre, and Sidon. But the case was different with a multitude, such as

six hundred thousand men having their cattle along with them. These

must have occupied the whole land of the Philistines, destroyed all

private property, and undoubtedly have occasioned some revolution; and

as they were not now intended to be put in possession of the land of

promise, the measure of the iniquity of the nations being not yet full,

God turned them aside from going that way, though the nearest, least

they “should see war[168],” that is, least the people should rise

against them, and destroy them.

There was another way which led south-west, upon Beersheba and Hebron,

in the middle, between the Dead Sea and the Mediterranean. This was

the direction in which Abraham, Lot, and Jacob, are supposed to have

reached Egypt. But there was neither food nor water there to sustain

the Israelites. When Abraham and Lot returned out of Egypt, they were

obliged to separate by consent, because Abraham said to his brother,

“The land will not bear us both[169].”

The third way was straight east into Arabia, pretty much the road by

which the Pilgrims go at this day to Mecca, and the caravans from Suez

to Cairo. In this track they would have gone round by the mountains of

Moab, east of the Dead Sea, and passed Jordan in the plain opposite

to Jericho, as they did forty years afterwards. But it is plain from

scripture, that God’s counsels were to make Pharaoh and his Egyptians

an example of his vengeance; and, as none of these roads led to the

sea, they did not answer the Divine intention.

About twelve leagues from the sea, there was a narrow road which turned

to the right, between the mountains, through a valley called _Badeab_,

where their course was nearly south-east; this valley ended in a pass,

between two considerable mountains, called _Gewoube_ on the south; and

Jibbel Attakah on the north, and opened into the low stripe of country

which runs all along the Red Sea; and the Israelites were ordered to

encamp at Pihahiroth, opposite to Baal-zephon, between Migdol and that

sea.

It will be necessary to explain these names. _Badeah_, Dr Shaw

interprets, _the Valley of the Miracle_, but this is forcing an

etymology, for there was yet no miracle wrought, nor was there

ever any in the valley. But _Badeah_, means _barren_, _bare_, and

_uninhabited_; such as we may imagine a valley between stony mountains,

a desert valley. _Jibbel Attakah_, he translates also, _the Mountain

of Deliverance_. But so far were the Israelites from being delivered

on their arrival at this mountain, that they were then in the greatest

distress and danger. _Attakah_, means, however, to _arrive_ or _come up

with_, either because there they arrived within sight of the Red Sea;

or, as I am rather inclined to think, this place took its name from

the arrival of Pharaoh, or his coming in sight of the Israelites, when

encamped between Migdol and the Red Sea.

Pihahiroth is the mouth of the valley, opening to the flat country

and the sea, as I have already said, such are called _Mouths_; in the

Arabic, _Fum_; as I have observed in my journey to Cosseir, where the

opening of the valley is called Fum el Beder, _the mouth of Beder_; Fum

el Terfowey, _the mouth of Terfowey_. Hhoreth, the flat country along

the Red Sea, is so called from _Hhor_, a narrow valley where torrents

run, occasioned by sudden irregular showers. Such we have already

described on the east side of the mountains, bordering upon that narrow

flat country along the Red Sea, where temporary showers fall in great

abundance, while none of them touch the west side of the mountains or

valley of Egypt. Pihahiroth then is the mouth of the valley Badeah;

which opens to Hhoreth, the narrow stripe of land where showers fall.

Baal-Zephon, the God of the watch-tower, was, probably, some idol’s

temple, which served for a signal-house upon the Cape which forms the

north entrance of the bay opposite to Jibbel Attakah, where there is

still a mosque, or saint’s tomb. It was probably a light-house, for

the direction of ships going to the bottom of the Gulf, to prevent

mistaking it for another foul bay, under the high land, where there is

also a tomb of a saint called Abou Derage.

The last rebuke God gave to Pharaoh, by slaying all the first-born,

seems to have made a strong impression upon the Egyptians. Scripture

says, that the people were now urgent with the Israelites to be gone,

for they said, “We be all dead men[170].” And we need not doubt,

it was in order to keep up in their hearts a motive of resentment,

strong enough to make them pursue the Israelites, that God caused

the Israelites to borrow, and take away the jewels of the Egyptians;

without some new cause of anger, the late terrible chastisement might

have deterred them. While, therefore, they journeyed eastward towards

the desert, the Egyptians had no motive to attack them, because they

went with permission there to sacrifice, and were on their return to

restore them their moveables. But when the Israelites were observed

turning to the south, among the mountains, they were then supposed

to flee without a view of returning, because they had left the way of

the desert; and therefore Pharaoh, that he might induce the Egyptians

to follow them, tells them that the Israelites were now entangled

among the mountains, and the wilderness behind them, which was really

the case, when they encamped at Pihahiroth, before, or south of

Baal-Zephon, between Migdol and the sea. Here, then, before Migdol, the

sea was divided, and they passed over dry shod to the wilderness of

Shur, which was immediately opposite to them; a space something less

than four leagues, and so easily accomplished in one night, without any

miraculous interposition.

Three days they were without water, which would bring them to Korondel,

where is a spring of brackish, or bitter water, to this day, which

probably were the _waters of Marah_[171].

The natives still call this part of the sea Bahar Kolzum, or the Sea

of Destruction; and just opposite to Pihahiroth is a bay, where the

North Cape is called Ras Musa, or the Cape of Moses, even now. These

are the reasons why I believe the passage of the Israelites to have

been in this direction. There is about fourteen fathom of water in the

channel, and about nine in the sides, and good anchorage every where;

the farthest side is a low sandy coast, and a very easy landing-place.

The draught of the bottom of the Gulf given by Doctor Pococke is very

erroneous, in every part of it.

It was proposed to Mr Niebuhr, when in Egypt, to inquire, upon the

spot, Whether there were not some ridges of rocks, where the water was

shallow, so that an army at particular times might pass over? Secondly,

Whether the Etesian winds, which blow strongly all Summer from the

north west, could not blow so violently against the sea, as to keep

it back on a heap, so that the Israelites might have passed without

a miracle? And a copy of these queries was left for me, to join my

inquiries likewise.

But I must confess, however learned the gentlemen were who proposed

these doubts, I did not think they merited any attention to solve them.

This passage is told us, by scripture, to be a miraculous one; and, if

so, we have nothing to do with natural causes. If we do not believe

Moses, we need not believe the transaction at all, seeing that it is

from his authority alone we derive it. If we believe in God that he

made the sea, we must believe he could divide it when he sees proper

reason, and of that he must be the only judge. It is no greater miracle

to divide the Red Sea, than to divide the river of Jordan.

If the Etesian wind blowing from the north-west in summer, could

heap up the sea as a wall, on the right, or to the south, of fifty

feet high, still the difficulty would remain, of building the wall

on the left hand, or to the north. Besides, water standing in that

position for a day, must have lost the nature of fluid. Whence came

that cohesion of particles, that hindered that wall to escape at the

sides? This is as great a miracle as that of Moses. If the Etesian

winds had done this once, they must have repeated it many a time before

and since, from the same causes. Yet, [172]Diodorus Siculus says,

the Troglodytes, the indigenous inhabitants of that very spot, had a

tradition from father to son, from their very earliest and remotest

ages, that once this division of the sea did happen there, and that

after leaving its bottom sometimes dry, the sea again came back, and

covered it with great fury. The words of this author are of the most

remarkable kind. We cannot think this heathen is writing in favour of

revelation. He knew not Moses, nor says a word about Pharaoh, and his

host; but records the miracle of the division of the sea, in words

nearly as strong as those of Moses, from the mouths of unbiassed,

undesigning Pagans.

Were all these difficulties surmounted, what could we do with the

pillar of fire? The answer is, We should not believe it. Why then

believe the passage at all? We have no authority for the one, but what

is for the other; it is altogether contrary to the ordinary nature of

things, and if not a miracle, it must be a fable.

The cause of the several names of the Red Sea, is a subject of more

liberal inquiry. I am of opinion, that it certainly derived its name

from Edom, long and early its powerful master, that word signifying

Red in Hebrew. It formerly went by the name of Sea of Edom, or Idumea;

since, by that of the Red Sea.

It has been observed, indeed, that not only the Arabian Gulf, but part

of the Indian Ocean[173], went by this name, though far distant from

Idumea. This is true, but when we consider, as we shall do in the

course of this history, that the masters of that sea were still the

Edomites, who went from the one sea directly in the same voyage to the

other, we shall not dispute the propriety of extending the name to part

of the Indian Ocean also. As for what fanciful people[174] have said of

any redness in the sea itself, or colour in the bottom, the reader may

assure himself all this is fiction, the Red Sea being in colour nothing

different from the Indian, or any other Ocean.

There is greater difficulty in assigning a reason for the Hebrew name,

Yam Suph; properly so called, say learned authors, from the quantity of

weeds in it. But I must confess, in contradiction to this, that I never

in my life, (and I have seen the whole extent of it) saw a weed of any

sort in it; and, indeed, upon the slightest consideration, it will

occur to any one, that a narrow gulf, under the immediate influence of

monsoons, blowing from contrary points six months each year, would have

too much agitation to produce such vegetables, seldom found, but in

stagnant waters, and seldomer, if ever, found in salt ones. My opinion

then is, that it is from the[175] large trees, or plants of white

coral, spread every where over the bottom of the Red Sea, perfectly in

imitation of plants on land, that the sea has obtained this name. If

not, I fairly confess I have not any other conjecture to make.

No sea, or shores, I believe, in the world, abound more in subjects

of Natural History than the Red Sea. I suppose I have drawings and

subjects of this kind, equal in bulk to the journal of the whole

voyage itself. But the vast expence in engraving, as well as other

considerations, will probably hinder for ever the perfection of this

work in this particular.

CHAP. X.

_Sail from Tor--Pass the Elanitic Gulf--See Raddua--Arrive at

Yambo--Incidents there--Arrive at Jidda._

Our Rais, having dispatched his business, was eager to depart; and,

accordingly, on the 11th of April, at day-break, we stood out of the

harbour of Tor. At first, we were becalmed in, at the point of the Bay

south of Tor town, but the wind freshening about eight o’clock, we

stood through the channels of the first four shoals, and then between a

smaller one. We made the mouth of a small Bay, formed by Cape Mahomet,

and a low sandy point to the eastward of it. Our vessel seemed to be a

capital one for sailing, and I did every thing in my power to keep our

Rais in good humour.

About half a mile from the sandy point, we struck upon a coral bank,

which, though it was not of any great consistence or solidity, did not

fail to make our mast nod. As I was looking out forward when the vessel

touched, and the Rais by me, I cried out in Arabic, “Get out of the way

you dog!” the Rais, thinking my discourse directed to him, seemed very

much surprised, and asked, “what I meant?” “Why did you not tell me,

said I, when I hired you, that all the rocks in the sea would get out

of the way of your vessel? This ill-mannered fellow here did not _know

his duty_; he was sleeping I suppose, and has given us a hearty jolt,

and I was abusing him for it, till you should chastise him some other

way.” He shook his head, and said, “Well! you do not believe, but God

knows the truth; well now where is the rock? Why he is gone.” However,

very prudently, he anchored soon afterwards, though we had received no

damage.

At night, by an observation of two stars in the meridian, I concluded

the latitude of Cape Mahomet to be 27° 54´, N. It must be understood of

the mountain, or high land, which forms the Cape, not the low point.

The ridge of rocks that run along behind Tor, bound that low sandy

country, called the Desert of Sin, to the eastward, and end in this

Cape, which is the high land observed at sea; but the lower part, or

southermost extreme of the Cape, runs about three leagues off from

the high land, and is so low, that it cannot be seen from deck above

three leagues. It was called, by the ancients, Pharan Promontorium;

not because there was a light-house[176] upon the end of it, (though

this may have perhaps been the case, and a very necessary and proper

situation it is) but from the Egyptian and Arabic word Farek[177],

which signifies to divide, as being the point, or high land that

divides the Gulf of Suez from the Elanitic Gulf.

I went ashore here to gather shells, and shot a small animal among the

rocks, called Daman Israel, or Israel’s Lamb; I do not know why, for

it has no resemblance to the sheep kind. I take it to be the saphan of

the Hebrew Scripture, which we translate by the coney. I have given

a drawing, and description of it, in its proper place[178]. I shot,

likewise, several dozens of gooto, the least beautiful of the kind I

had seen, being very small, and coloured like the back of a partridge,

but very indifferent food.

The 12th, we sailed from Cape Mahomet, just as the sun appeared. We

passed the island of Tyrone, in the mouth of the Elanitic Gulf, which

divides it near equally into two; or, rather the north-west side is

narrowest. The direction of the Gulf is nearly north and south. I judge

it to be about six leagues over. Many of the Cairo ships are lost in

mistaking the entry of the Elanitic for that of the Heroopolitic Gulf,

or Gulf of Suez; for, from the island of Tyrone, which is not above

two leagues from the Main, there runs a string of islands, which seem

to make a semicircular bar across the entry from the point, where a

ship, going with a south wind, would take its departure; and this

range of islands ends in a shoal with sunken rocks, which reaches near

five leagues from the Main. It is probable, that, upon these islands,

the fleet of Rehoboam perished, when sailing for the expedition of

Ophir[179].

I take Tyrone to be the island of Saspirene of Ptolemy, though this

geographer has erred a little, both in its latitude and longitude.

We passed the second of these islands, called Senasser, about three

leagues to the northward, steering with a fresh gale at south-east,

upon a triangular island that has three pointed eminences upon its

south-side. We passed another small island which has no name, about

the same distance as the former; and ranged along three black rocks,

the south-west of the island, called _Susange el Bahar_, or the

_Sea-Spunge_. As our vessel made some water, and the wind had been very

strong all the afternoon, the Rais wanted to bring up to the leeward of

this island, or between this, and a cape of land called _Ras Selah_;

but, not being able to find soundings here, he set sail again, doubled

the point, and came to anchor under the south cape of a fine bay, which

is a station of the Emir Hadje, called _Kalaat el Moilah_, the Castle,

or Station of Water.

We had sailed this day about twenty-one leagues; and, as we had very

fair and fine weather, and were under no sort of concern whatever, I

could not neglect attending to the disposition of these islands, in a

very splendid map lately published. They are carried too far into the

Gulf.

The 13th, the Rais having, in the night, remedied what was faulty in

his vessel, set sail about seven o’clock in the morning. We passed a

conical hill on the land, called Abou Jubbé, where is the sepulchre

of a saint of that name. The mountains here are at a considerable

distance; and nothing can be more desolate and bare than the coast. In

the afternoon, we came to an anchor at a place called Kella Clarega,

after having passed an island called Jibbel Numan, about a league from

the shore. By the side of this shoal we caught a quantity of good

fish, and a great number also very beautiful, and perfectly unknown,

but which, when roasted, shrank away to nothing except skin, and when

boiled, dissolved into a kind of blueish glue.

On the 14th, the wind was variable till near ten o’clock, after which

it became a little fair. At twelve it was as favourable as we could

wish; it blew however but faintly. We passed first by one island

surrounded by breakers, and then by three more, and anchored close

to the shore, at a place called Jibbel Shekh, or the Mountain of the

Saint. Here I resolved to take a walk on shore to stretch my limbs, and

see if I could procure any game, to afford us some variety of food. I

had my gun loaded with ball, when a vast flock of gooto got up before

me, not five hundred yards from the shore. As they lighted very near

me, I lay down among the bent grass, to draw the charge, and load with

small shot. While I was doing this, I saw two antelopes, which, by

their manner of walking and feeding, did not seem to be frightened.

I returned my balls into the gun, and resolved to be close among the

bent, till they should appear before me.

I had been quiet for some minutes, when I heard behind me something

like a person breathing, on which I turned about, and, not without

great surprise, and some little fear, saw a man, standing just over

me. I started up, while the man, who had a little stick only in his

hand, ran two or three steps backwards, and then stood. He was almost

perfectly naked: he had half a yard of coarse rag only wrapt round his

middle, and a crooked knife stuck in it, I asked him who he was? He

said he was an Arab, belonging to Shekh Abd el Macaber. I then desired

to know where his master was? He replied, he was at the hill a little

above, with camels that were going to Yambo. He then, in his turn,

asked who I was? I told him I was an Abyssinian slave of the Sherriffe

of Mecca, was going to Cairo by sea, but wished much to speak to his

master, if he would go and bring him. The savage went away with great

willingness, and he no sooner disappeared, than I set out as quickly

as possible to the boat, and we got her hauled out beyond the shoals,

where we passed the night. We saw afterwards distinctly about fifty

men, and three or four camels; the men made several signs to us, but

we were perfectly content with the distance that was between us, and

sought no more to kill antelopes in the neighbourhood of Sidi Abd el

Macaber.

I would not have it imagined, that my case was absolutely desperate,

even if I had been known as a Christian, and fallen into the hands

of these Arabs, of Arabia Deserta, or Arabia Petrea, supposed to be

the most barbarous people in the world, as indeed they probably are.

Hospitality, and attention to one’s word, seem in these countries

to be in proportion to the degree in which the people are savage. A

very easy method is known, and followed with constant success, by all

the Christians trading to the Red Sea from Suez to Jidda, to save

themselves if thrown on the coast of Arabia. Any man of consideration

from any tribe among the Arabs, comes to Cairo, gives his name and

designation to the Christian sailor, and receives a very small present,

which is repeated annually if he performs so often the voyage. And for

this the Arab promises the Christian his protection, should he ever be

so unfortunate as to be shipwrecked on their coast.

The Turks are very bad seamen, and lose many ships,· the greatest

part of the crew are therefore Christians; when a vessel strikes, or

is ashore, the Turks are all massacred if they cannot make their way

good by force; but the Christians present themselves to the Arab,

crying _Fiarduc_, which means, ‘we are under immediate protection.’

If they are asked, who is their Gaffeer, or Arab, with whom they are

in friendship? They answer, Mahomet Abdelcader is our Gaffeer, or any

other. If he is not there, you are told he is absent so many days

journey off, or any distance. This acquaintance or neighbour, then

helps you, to save what you have from the wreck, and one of them with

his lance draws a circle, large enough to hold you and yours. He then

sticks his lance in the sand, bids you abide within that circle, and

goes and brings your Gaffeer, with what camels you want, and this

Gaffeer is obliged, by rules known only to themselves, to carry you

for nothing, or very little, where-ever you go, and to furnish you

with provisions all the way. Within that circle you are as safe on

the desert coast of Arabia, as in a citadel; there is no example or

exception to the contrary that has ever yet been known. There are many

Arabs, who, from situation, near dangerous shoals or places, where

ships often perish (as between Ras Mahomet and Ras Selah,[180]Dar el

Hamra, and some others) have perhaps fifty or a hundred Christians,

who have been so protected: So that when this Arab marries a daughter,

he gives perhaps his revenue from four or five protected Christians, as

part of his daughter’s portion. I had, at that very time, a Gaffeer,

called Ibn Talil, an Arab of Harb tribe, and I should have been

detained perhaps three days till he came from near Medina, and carried

me (had I been shipwrecked) to Yambo, where I was going.

On the 15th we came to an anchor at El Har[181], where we saw high,

craggy, and broken mountains, called the Mountains of Ruddua. These

abound with springs of water; all sort of Arabian and African fruits

grow here in perfection, and every kind of vegetable that they will

take the pains to cultivate. It is the paradise of the people of Yambo;

those of any substance have country houses there; but, strange to tell,

they stay there but for a short time, and prefer the bare, dry, and

burning sands about Yambo, to one of the finest climates, and most

verdant pleasant countries, that exists in the world. The people of the

place have told me, that water freezes there in winter, and that there

are some of the inhabitants who have red hair, and blue eyes, a thing

scarcely ever seen but in the coldest mountains in the East.

The 16th, about ten o’clock, we passed a mosque, or Shekh’s tomb on the

main land, on our left hand, called Kubbet Yambo, and before eleven

we anchored in the mouth of the port in deep water. Yambo, corruptly

called Imbo, is an ancient city, now dwindled to a paultry village.

Ptolemy calls it Iambia Vicus, or the village Yambia; a proof it was

of no great importance in his time. But after the conquest of Egypt

under Sultan Selim, it became a valuable station, for supplying their

conquests in Arabia, with warlike stores, from Suez, and for the

importation of wheat from Egypt to their garrisons, and the holy places

of Mecca and Medina. On this account, a large castle was built there

by Sinan Basha; for the ancient Yambo of Ptolemy is not that which is

called so at this day. It is six miles farther south; and is called

Yambo el Nachel, or, ‘Yambo among the palm-trees,’ a great quantity of

ground being there covered with this sort of plantation.

Yambo, in the language of the country, signifies a fountain or spring,

a very copious one of excellent water being found there among the date

trees, and it is one of the stations of the Emir Hadje in going to, and

coming from Mecca. The advantage of the port, however, which the other

has not, and the protection of the castle, have carried trading vessels

to the modern Yambo, where there is no water, but what is brought from

pools dug on purpose to receive the rain when it falls.

There are two hundred janissaries in the castle, the descendents of

those brought thither by Sinan Basha; who have succeeded their fathers,

in the way I have observed they did at Syené, and, indeed, in all the

conquests in Arabia, and Egypt, The inhabitants of Yambo are deservedly

reckoned[182] the moist barbarous of any upon the Red Sea, and the

janissaries keep pace with them, in every kind of malice and violence.

We did not go ashore all that day, because we had heard a number of

shots, and had received intelligence from shore, that the janissaries

and town’s people, for a week, had been fighting together; I was very

unwilling to interfere, wishing that they might have all leisure to

extirpate one another, if possible; and my Rais seemed most heartily to

join me in my wishes.

In the evening, the captain of the port came on board, and brought two

janissaries with him, whom, with some difficulty, I suffered to enter

the vessel. Their first demand was gun-powder, which I positively

refused. I then asked them how many were killed in the eight days they

had been engaged? They answered, with some indifference, not many,

about a hundred every day, or a few less or more, chiefly Arabs. We

heard afterwards, when we came on shore, one only had been wounded, and

that a soldier, by a fall from his horse. They insisted upon bringing

the vessel into the port; but I told them, on the contrary, that having

no business at Yambo, and being by no means under the guns of their

castle, I was at liberty to put to sea without coming ashore at all;

therefore, if they did not leave us, as the wind was favourable, I

would sail, and, by force, carry them to Jidda. The janissaries began

to talk, as their custom is, in a very blustering and warlike tone; but

I, who knew my interest at Jidda, and the force in my own hand; that

my vessel was afloat, and could be under weigh in an instant, never

was less disposed to be bullied, than at that moment. They asked me a

thousand questions, whether I was a Mamaluke, whether I was a Turk, or

whether I was an Arab, and why I did not give them spirits and tobacco?

To all which I answered, only, that they should know to-morrow who I

was; then I ordered the Emir Bahar, the captain of the port, to carry

them ashore at his peril, or I would take their arms from them, and

confine them on board all night.

The Rais gave the captain of the port a private hint, to take care what

they did, for they might lose their lives; and that private caution,

understood in a different way perhaps than was meant, had effect upon

the soldiers, to make them withdraw immediately. When they went away, I

begged the Emir Bahar to make my compliments to his masters, Hassan and

Hussein, Agas, to know what time I should wait upon them to-morrow; and

desired him, in the mean time, to keep his soldiers ashore, as I was

not disposed to be troubled with their insolence.

Soon after they went, we heard a great firing, and saw lights all over

the town; and the Rais proposed to me to slip immediately, and set

sail, from which measure I was not at all averse. But, as he said,

we had a better anchoring place under the mosque of the Shekh, and,

besides, that there we would be in a place of safety, by reason of the

holiness of the saint, and that at our own choice might even put to sea

in a moment, or stay till to-morrow, as we were in no sort of doubt of

being able to repel, force by force, if attacked, we got under weigh

for a few hundred yards, and dropt our anchor under the shrine of one

of the greatest saints in the world.

At night the firing had abated, the lights diminished, and the captain

of the port again came on board. He was surprised at missing us at

our former anchoring place, and still more so, when, on our hearing

the noise of his oars, we hailed, and forbade him to advance any

nearer, till he should tell us how many he had on board, or whether he

had soldiers or not, otherwise we should fire upon them: to this he

answered, that there were only himself, his boy, and three officers,

servants to the Aga. I replied, that three strangers were too many at

that time of the night, but, since they were come from the Aga, they

might advance.

All our people were sitting together armed on the forepart of the

vessel; I soon divined they intended us no harm, for they gave us the

salute _Salam Alicum!_ before they were within ten yards of us. I

answered with great complacency; we handed them on board, and set them

down upon deck. The three officers were genteel young men, of a sickly

appearance, dressed in the fashion of the country, in long burnooses

loosely hanging about them, striped with red and white; they wore a

turban of red, green, and white, with ten thousand tassels and fringes

hanging down to the small of their backs. They had in their hand, each,

a short javelin, the shaft not above four feet and a half long, with

an iron head about nine inches, and two or three iron hooks below the

shaft, which was bound round with brass-wire, in several places, and

shod with iron at the farther end.

They asked me where I came from? I said, from Constantinople, last from

Cairo; but begged they would put no more questions to me, as I was not

at liberty to answer them. They said they had orders from their masters

to bid me welcome, if I was the person that had been recommended to

them by the Sherriffe, and was Ali Bey’s physician at Cairo. I said, if

Metical Aga had advised them of that, then I was the man. They replied

he had, and were come to bid me welcome, and attend me on shore to

their masters, whenever I pleased. I begged them to carry my humble

respects to their masters; and told them, though I did not doubt of

their protection in any shape, yet I could not think it consistent with

ordinary prudence, to risk myself at ten o’clock at night, in a town

so full of disorder as Yambo appeared to have been for some time, and

where so little regard was paid to discipline or command, as to fight

with one another. They said that was true, and I might do as I pleased;

but the firing that I had heard did not proceed from fighting, but from

their rejoicing upon making peace.

In short, we found, that, upon some discussion, the garrison and

townsmen had been fighting for several days, in which disorders the

greatest part of the ammunition in the town had been expended, but it

had since been agreed on by the old men of both parties, that no body

had been to blame on either side, but the whole wrong was the work

of _a Camel_. _A camel_, therefore, was seized, and brought without

the town, and there a number on both sides having met, they upbraided

the _camel_ with every thing that had been either said or done. The

_camel_ had killed men, _he_ had threatened to set the town on fire;

the _camel_ had threatened to burn the Aga’s house, and the castle;

_he_ had cursed the Grand Signior, and the Sherriffe of Mecca, the

sovereigns of the two parties; and, the only thing the poor animal was

interested in, _he_ had threatened to destroy the wheat that was going

to Mecca. After having spent great part of the afternoon in upbraiding

the _camel_, whose measure of iniquity, it seems, was near full, each

man thrust him through with a lance, devoting him _Diis manibus &

Diris_, by a kind of prayer, and with a thousand curses upon his head.

After which, every man retired, fully satisfied as to the wrongs he had

received from the _camel_.

The reader will easily observe in this, some traces of the [183]azazel,

or scape-goat of the Jews, which was turned out into the wilderness,

loaded with the sins of the people.

Next morning I went to the palace, as we call it, in which were some

very handsome apartments. There was a guard of janissaries at the

door, who, being warriors, lately come from the bloody battle with the

_camel_, did not fail to shew marks of insolence, which they wished to

be mistaken for courage.

The two Agas were sitting on a high bench upon Persian carpets; and

about forty well-dressed and well-looking men, (many of them old)

sitting on carpets upon the floor, in a semi-circle round them. They

behaved with great politeness and attention, and asked no questions

but general ones; as, How the sea agreed with me? If there was plenty

at Cairo? till I was going away, when the youngest of the Agas

inquired, with a seeming degree of diffidence, Whether Mahomet Bey Abou

Dahab, was ready to march? As I knew well what this question meant, I

answered, I know not if he is ready, he has made great preparations.

The other Aga said, I hope you will be a messenger of peace? I

answered, I intreat you to ask me no questions; I hope, by the grace

of God, all will go well. Every person present applauded the speech;

agreed to respect my secret, as they supposed I had one, and they all

were inclined to believe, that I was a man in the confidence of Ali

Bey, and that his hostile designs against Mecca were laid aside: this

was just what I wished them to suppose; for it secured me against

ill-usage all the time I chose to stay there; and of this I had a proof

in the instant, for a very good house was provided for me by the Aga,

and a man of his sent to shew me to it.

I wondered the Rais had not come home with me; who, in about half

an hour after I had got into my house, came and told me, that, when

the captain of the boat came on board the first time with the two

soldiers, he had put a note, which they call _tiskera_, into his hand,

pressing him into the Sherriffe’s service, to carry wheat to Jidda,

and, with the wheat, a number of _poor pilgrims_ that were going to

Mecca at the Sherriffe’s expence. Finding us, however, out of the

harbour, and, suspecting from our manners and carriage towards the

janissaries, that we were people who knew what we had to trust to, he

had taken the two soldiers a-shore with him, who were by no means fond

of their reception, or inclined to stay in such company; and, indeed,

our dresses and appearances in the boat were fully as likely to make

strangers believe we should rob them, as theirs were to impress us

with an apprehension that they would rob us. The Rais said also, that,

after my audience, the Aga had called upon him, and taken away the

_tiskera_, telling him he was free, and to obey nobody but me; and sent

me one of his servants to sit at the door, with orders to admit nobody

but whom I pleased, and that I might not be troubled with the people of

Yambo.

Hitherto all was well; but it had been with me an observation, which

had constantly held good, that too prosperous beginnings in these

countries always ended in ill at the last. I was therefore resolved to

use my prosperity with great temperance and caution, make myself as

strong, and use my strength as little, as it was possible for me to do.

There was a man of considerable weight in Aleppo, named [184]Sidi Ali

Taraboloussi, who was a great friend of Dr Russel, our physician,

through whom I became acquainted with him. He was an intimate friend

and acquaintance of the cadi of Medina, and had given me a letter to

him, recommending me, in a very particular manner, to his protection

and services. I inquired about this person, and was told he was in

town, directing the distribution of the corn to be sent to his capital.

Upon my inquiry, the news were carried to him as soon almost as his

name was uttered; on which, being desirous of knowing what sort of man

I was, about eight o’clock in the evening he sent me a message, and,

immediately after, I received a visit from him.

I was putting my telescopes and time-keeper in order, and had forbid

admittance to any one; but this was so holy and so dignified a person,

that all doors were open to him. He observed me working about the

great telescope and quadrant in my shirt, for it was hot beyond

conception upon the smallest exertion. Without making any apology for

the intrusion at all, he broke out into exclamation, how lucky he

was! and, without regarding me, he went from telescope to clock, from

clock to quadrant, and from that to the thermometer, crying, _Ah tibe,

ah tibe_! This is fine, this is fine! He scarcely looked upon me, or

seemed to think I was worth his attention, but touched every thing so

carefully, and handled so properly the brass cover of the alidade,

which inclosed the horse-hair with the plummet, that he seemed to be a

man more than ordinarily versed in the use of astronomical instruments.

In short, not to repeat useless matter to the reader, I found he had

studied at Constantinople, understood the principles of geometry

very tolerably, was master of Euclid so far as it regarded plain

trigonometry; the demonstrations of which he rattled off so rapidly,

that it was impossible to follow, or to understand him. He knew nothing

of spherics, and all his astronomy resolved itself at last into maxims

of judicial astrology, first and second houses of the planets and

ascendancies, very much in the style of common almanacks.

He desired that my door might be open to him at all times, especially

when I made observations; he also knew perfectly the division of our

clocks, and begged he might count time for me. All this was easily

granted, and I had from him, what was most useful, a history of the

situation of the government of the place, by which I learned, that the

two young men (the governors) were slaves of the Sherriffe of Mecca;

that it was impossible for any one, the most intimate with them, to

tell which of the two was most base or profligate; that they would have

robbed us all of the last farthing, if they had not been restrained by

fear; and that there was a foreigner, or a frank, very lately going to

India, who had disappeared, but, as he believed, had been privately put

to death in prison, for he had never after been heard of.

Though I cannot say I relished this account, yet I put on the very best

face possible, “Here, in a garrison town, said I, with very worthless

soldiers, they might do what they pleased with six or seven strangers,

but I do not fear them; I now tell them, and the people of Yambo, all

and each of them, they had better be in their bed sick of the plague,

than touch a hair of my dog, if I had one.” “And so, says he they know,

therefore rest and rejoice, and stay as long with us as you can.” “As

short time as possible, said I, Sidi Mahomet; although I do not fear

wicked people, I don’t love them so much as to stay long with them.”

He then asked me a favour, that I would allow my Rais to carry a

quantity of wheat for him to Jidda; which I willingly permitted, upon

condition, that he would order but one man to go along with it; on

which he declared solemnly, that none but one should go, and that

I might _throw_ him even into the _sea_, if he behaved improperly.

However, afterwards he sent three; and one who deserved often to be

_thrown_ into the _sea_, as he had permitted. “Now friend, said I, I

have done every thing that you have desired, though favours should have

begun with you upon your own principle, as I am the stranger. Now,

what I have to ask you is this,--Do you know the Shekh of Beder Hunein?

Know him! says he, I am married to his sister, a daughter of Harb; he

is of the tribe of Harb.” “Harb be it then (said I) your trouble will

be the less; then you are to send a camel to your brother-in-law, who

will procure me the largest, and most perfect plant possible of the

Balsam of Mecca. He is not to break the stem, nor even the branches,

but to pack it entire, with fruit and flower, if possible, and wrap it

in a mat.” He looked cunning, shrugged up his shoulders, drew up his

mouth, and putting his finger to his nose, said, “Enough, I know all

about this, you shall find what sort of a man I am, I am no fool, as

you shall see.”

I received this the third day at dinner, but the flower (if there had

been any) was rubbed off. The fruit was in several stages, and in great

perfection. The drawing, and description from this [185]plant, will, I

hope, for ever obviate all difficulty about its history. He sent me,

likewise, a quart bottle of the pure balsam, as it had flowed that

year from the tree, with which I have verified what the old botanists

in their writings have said of it, in its several stages. He told me

also the circumstances I have related in my description of the balsam,

as to the gathering and preparing of the several kinds of it, and a

curious anecdote as to its origin. He said the plant was no part of

the creation of God in the six days, but that, in the last of three

very bloody battles, which Mahomet fought with the noble Arabs of Harb,

and his kinsmen the Beni Koreish, then Pagans at Beder Hunein, that

Mahomet prayed to God, and a grove of balsam-trees grew up from the

blood of the slain upon the field of battle; and, that with the balsam

that flowed from them he touched the wounds even of those that were

dead, and all those predestined to be good _Mussulmen_ afterwards,

immediately came to life. “I hope, said I, friend, that the other

things you told me of it, are fully as true as this, for they will

otherwise laugh at me in England.” “No, no, says he, not half so true,

nor a quarter so true, there is nothing in the world so certain as

this.” But his looks, and his laughing very heartily, shewed me plainly

he knew better, as indeed most of them do.

In the evening, before we departed, about nine o’clock, I had an

unexpected visit from the youngest of the two Agas; who, after many

pretended complaints of sickness, and injunctions of secrecy, at last

_modestly_ requested me to give him some _slow poison_, that might kill

_his brother_, without suspicion, and after some time should elapse.

I told him, such proposals were not to be made to a man like me; that

all the gold, and all the silver in the world, would not engage me to

poison the poorest vagrant in the street, supposing it never was to be

suspected, or known but to my own heart. All he said, was, “Then your

manners are not the _same_ as ours.”--I answered, dryly, “_Mine_, I

thank God, are not,” and so we parted.

Yambo, or at least the present town of that name, I found, by many

observations of the sun and stars, to be in latitude 24° 3´ 35´´

north, and in long. 38° 16´ 3´´ east from the meridian of Greenwich.

The barometer, at its highest, on the 23d of April, was 27° 8´, and,

the lowest on the 27th, was 26° 11´. The thermometer, on the 24th of

April, at two o’clock in the afternoon, stood at 91°, and the lowest

was 66° in the morning of the 26th of same month. Yambo is reputed very

unwholesome, but there were no epidemical diseases when I was there.

The many delays of loading the wheat, the desire of _doubling_ the

quantity I had permitted, in which both the Rais and my friend the

cadi conspired for their mutual interest, detained me at Yambo all

the 27th of April, very much against my inclination. For I was not a

little uneasy at thinking among what banditti I lived, whose daily

wish was to rob and murder me, from which they were restrained by fear

only; and this, a fit of drunkenness, or a piece of bad news, such as

a report of Ali Bey’s death, might remove in a moment. Indeed we were

allowed to want nothing. A sheep, some bad beer, and some very good

wheat-bread, were delivered to us every day from the Aga, which, with

dates and honey, and a variety of presents from those that I attended

as a physician, made us pass our time comfortably enough; we went

frequently in the boats to fish at sea, and, as I had brought with

me three fizgigs of different sizes, with the proper lines, I seldom

returned without killing four or five dolphins. The sport with the line

was likewise excellent. We caught a number of beautiful fish from the

very house where we lodged, and some few good ones. We had vinegar in

plenty at Yambo; onions, and several other greens, from Raddua; and,

being all cooks, we lived well.

On the 28th of April, in the morning, I sailed with a cargo of wheat

that did not belong to me, and three passengers, instead of one, for

whom only I had undertaken. The wind was fair, and I saw one advantage

of allowing the Rais to load, was, that he was determined to carry sail

to make amends for the delay. There was a tumbling, disagreeable swell,

and the wind seemed dying away. One of our passengers was very sick. At

his request we anchored at Djar, a round small port, whose entrance is

at the north-east. It is about three fathoms deep throughout, unless

just upon the south side, and perfectly sheltered from every wind. We

saw here, for the first time, several plants of rack tree, growing

considerably within the sea-mark, in some places with two feet of water

upon the trunk. I found the latitude of Djar to be 23° 36´ 9´´ north.

The mountains of Beder Hunein were S. S. W. of us.

The 29th, at five o’clock in the morning, we sailed from Djar. At

eight, we passed a small cape called [186]Ras el Himma; and the wind

turning still more fresh, we passed a kind of harbour called Maibeed,

where there is an anchoring place named El Horma. The sun was in the

meridian when we passed this; and I found, by observation, El Horma was

in lat. 23° 0´ 30´´ north. At ten we passed a mountain on land called

Soub; at two, the small port of Muftura, under a mountain whose name is

Hajoub; at half past four we came to an anchor at a place called Harar.

The wind had been contrary all the night, being south-east, and rather

fresh; we thought, too, we perceived a current setting strongly to the

westward.

On the 30th we sailed at eight in the morning, but the wind was

unfavourable, and we made little way. We were surrounded with a great

many sharks, some of which seemed to be large. Though I had no line

but upon the small fizgigs for dolphins, I could not refrain from

attempting one of the largest, for they were so bold, that some of

them, we thought, intended to leap on board. I struck one of the most

forward of them, just at the joining of the neck; but as we were not

practised enough in laying our line, so as to run out without hitching,

he leaped above two feet out of the water, then plunged down with

prodigious violence, and our line taking hold of something standing in

the way, the cord snapped asunder, and away went the shark. All the

others disappeared in an instant; but the Rais said, as soon as they

smelled the blood, they would not leave the wounded one, till they

had torn him to pieces. I was truly sorry for the loss of my tackle,

as the two others were really like harpoons, and not so manageable.

But the Rais, whom I had studied to keep in very good humour, and had

befriended in every thing, was an old harpooner in the Indian Ocean,

and he pulled out from his hold a compleat apparatus. He not only had a

small harpoon like my first, but better constructed. He had, likewise,

several hooks with long chains and lines, and a wheel with a long hair

line to it, like a small windlass, to which he equally fixed the line

of the harpoon, and those of the hooks. This was a compliment he saw I

took very kindly, and did not doubt it would be rewarded in the proper

time.

The wind freshening and turning fairer, at noon we brought to, within

sight of Rabac, and at one o’clock anchored there. Rabac is a small

port in lat. 22° 35´ 30´´ north. The entry is E. N. E. and is about

a quarter of a mile broad. The port extends itself to the east, and

is about two miles long. The mountains are about three leagues to the

north, and the town of Rabac about four miles north by east from the

entrance to the harbour. We remained all day, the first of May, in

the port, making a drawing of the harbour. The night of our anchoring

there, the Emir Hadje of the pilgrims from Mecca encamped about three

miles off. We heard his evening gun.

The passengers that had been sick, now insisted upon going to see the

Hadje; but as I knew the consequence would be, that a number of fanatic

wild people would be down upon us, I told him plainly, if he went from

the boat, he should not again be received; and that we would haul out

of the port, and anchor in the offing; this kept him with us. But all

next day he was in very bad humour, repeating frequently, to himself,

that he deserved all this for embarking with infidels.

The people came down to us from Rabac with water melons, and skins full

of water. All ships may be supplied here plentifully from wells near

the town; the water is not bad.

The country is level, and seemingly uncultivated, but has not so desert

a look as about Yambo. I should suspect by its appearance, and the

freshness of its water, that it rained at times in the mountains here,

for we were now considerably within the tropic, which passes very near

Ras el Himma, whereas Rabac is half a degree to the southward.

On the 2d, at five o’clock in the morning, we sailed from Rabac, with a

very little wind, scarcely making two knots an hour.

At half past nine, Deneb bore east and by south from us. This place is

known by a few palm-trees. The port is small, and very indifferent, at

least for six months of the year, because it lies open to the south,

and there is a prodigious swell here.

At one o’clock we passed an island called Hammel, about a mile off; at

the same time, another island, El Memisk, bore east of us, about three

miles, where there is good anchorage.

At three and three quarters, we passed an island called Gawad, a mile

and a quarter south-east of us. The main bore likewise south-east,

distant something more than a league. We here changed our course from

south to W. S. W. and at four o’clock came to an anchor at the small

island of Lajack.

The 3d, we sailed at half past four in the morning, our course W.

S. W. but it fell calm; after having made about a league, we found

ourselves off Ras Hateba, or the Woody Cape, which bore due east of us.

After doubling the cape, the wind freshening, at four o’clock in the

afternoon we anchored in the port of Jidda, close upon the key, where

the officers of the custom-house immediately took possession of our

baggage.

[Illustration: _Arab Shekh; Tribe Beni Koreish._

_Heath Sc:_

_London Publish’d Dec^r. 1^{st}. 1789. by G. Robinson & Co._]

CHAP. XI.

_Occurrences at Jidda--Visit of the Vizir--Alarm of the

Factory--Great Civility of the English trading from

India--Polygamy--Opinion of Dr Arbuthnot ill-founded--Contrary

to Reason and Experience--Leave Jidda._

The port of Jidda is a very extensive one, consisting of numberless

shoals, small islands, and sunken rocks, with channels, however,

between them, and deep water. You are very safe in Jidda harbour,

whatever wind blows, as there are numberless shoals which prevent the

water from ever being put into any general motion; and you may moor

head and stern, with twenty anchors out if you please. But the danger

of being lost, I conceive, lies in the going in and coming out of the

harbour. Indeed the observation is here verified, the more _dangerous_

the _port_, the _abler_ the _pilots_, and no accidents ever happen.

There is a draught of the harbour of Jidda handed about among the

English for many years, very inaccurately, and very ill laid down,

from what authority I know not, often condemned, but never corrected;

as also a pretended chart of the upper part of the Gulf, from Jidda

to Mocha, full of soundings. As I was some months at Jidda, kindly

entertained, and had abundance of time, Captain Thornhill, and some

other of the gentlemen trading thither, wished me to make a survey of

the harbour, and promised me the assistance of their officers, boats,

and crews. I very willingly undertook it to oblige them. Finding

afterwards, however, that one of their number, Captain Newland, had

undertaken it, and that he would be hurt by my interfering, as he was

in some manner advanced in the work, I gave up all further thoughts of

the plan. He was a man of real ingenuity and capacity, as well as very

humane, well behaved, and one to whom I had been indebted for every

sort of attention.

God forgive those who have taken upon them, very lately, to ingraft

a number of new soundings upon that miserable bundle of errors, that

Chart of the upper part of the Gulf from Jidda to Mocha, which has

been tossed about the Red Sea these twenty years and upwards. One of

these, since my return to Europe, has been sent to me new dressed like

a bride, with all its original and mortal sins upon its head. I would

beg leave to be understood, that there is not in the world a man more

averse than I am to give offence even to a child. It is not in the

spirit of criticism I speak this. In any other case, I would not have

made any observations at all. But, where the lives and properties of so

many are at stake yearly, it is a species of treason to conceal one’s

sentiments, if the publishing of them can any way contribute to safety,

whatever offence it may give to unreasonable individuals.

Of all the vessels in Jidda, two only had their log lines properly

divided, and yet all were so fond of their supposed accuracy, as to

aver they had kept their course within five leagues, between India and

Babelmandeb. Yet they had made no estimation of the currents without

the [187]Babs, nor the different very strong ones soon after passing

Socotra; their half-minute glasses upon a medium ran 57´´; they had

made no observation on the tides or currents in the Red Sea, either in

the channel or in the inward passage; yet there is delineated in this

map a course of Captain Newland’s, which he kept in the middle of the

channel, full of sharp angles and short stretches; you would think

every yard was measured and sounded.

To the spurious catalogue of soundings found in the old chart above

mentioned, there is added a double proportion of new, from what

authority is not known; so that from Mocha, to lat. 17° you have as it

were soundings every mile, or even less. No one can cast his eyes on

the upper part of the map, but must think the Red Sea one of the most

frequented places in the world. Yet I will aver, without fear of being

contradicted, that it is a characteristic of the Red Sea, scarce to

have soundings in any part of the channel, and often on both sides,

whilst ashore soundings are hardly found a boat-length from the main.

To this I will add, that there is scarce one island upon which I ever

was, where the boltsprit was not over the land, while there were no

soundings by a line heaved over the stern. I must then protect against

making these old most erroneous maps a foundation for new ones, as

they can be of no use, but must be of detriment. Many good seamen

of knowledge and enterprise have been in that sea, within these few

years. Let them say, candidly, what were their instruments, what their

difficulties were, where they had doubts, where they succeeded, and

where they were disappointed? Were these acknowledged by one, they

would be speedily taken up by others, and rectified by the help of

mathematicians and good observers on shore.

Mr Niebuhr has contributed much, but we should reform the map on both

sides; though there is a great deal done, yet much remains still to

do. I hope that my friend Mr Dalrymple, when he can afford time, will

give us a foundation more proper to build upon, than that old rotten

one, however changed in form, and supposed to have been improved, if

he really has a number of observations by him that can be relied on,

otherwise it is but continuing the delusion and the danger.

If ships of war afterwards, that keep the channel, shall come, manned

with stout and able seamen, and expert young officers, provided with

lines, glasses, good compasses, and a number of boats, then we shall

know these soundings, at least in part. And then also we shall know

the truth of what I now advance, viz. that ships like those employed

hitherto in trading from India (manned and provided as the best of

them are) were incapable, amidst unknown tides and currents, and going

before a monsoon, whether southern or northern, of knowing within three

leagues where any one of them had ever dropt his sounding line, unless

he was close on board some island, shoal, remarkable point, or in a

harbour.

Till that time, I would advise every man sailing in the Red Sea,

especially in the channel, where the pilots know no more than he, to

trust to his own hands for safety in the minute of danger, to heave

the lead at least every hour, keep a good look-out, and shorten sail

in a fresh wind, or in the night-time, and to consider all maps of the

channel of the Arabian Gulf, yet made, as matters of mere curiosity,

and not fit to trust a man’s life to. Any captain in the India service,

who had run over from Jidda into the mouth of the river Frat, and

the neighbouring port Kilfit, which might every year be done for L.

10 Sterling extra expences, would do more meritorious service to the

navigation of that sea, than all the soundings that were ever yet made

from Jibbel Zekir to the island of Sheduan.

From Yambo to Jidda I had slept little, making my memoranda as full

upon the spot as possible. I had, besides, an aguish disorder, which

very much troubled me, and in dress and cleanliness was so like a

Galiongy (or Turkish seaman) that the [188]Emir Bahar was astonished at

hearing my servants say I was an Englishman, at the time they carried

away all my baggage and instruments to the custom-house. He sent his

servant, however, with me to the Bengal-house, who promised me, in

broken English, all the way, a very magnificent reception from my

countrymen. Upon his naming all the captains for my choice, I desired

to be carried to a _Scotchman_, a _relation of my own_, who was then

accidentally leaning over the rail of the stair-case, leading up to

his apartment. I saluted him by his name; he fell into a violent rage,

calling me _villain_, _thief_, _cheat_, and _renegado rascal_; and

declared, if I offered to proceed a step further, he would throw me

over stairs. I went away without reply, his curses and abuse followed

me long afterwards. The servant, my conductor, screwed his mouth, and

shrugged up his shoulders. “Never fear, says he, I will carry you to

the _best of them all_.” We went up an opposite stair-case, which I

thought within myself, if those are their India manners, I shall keep

my name and situation to myself while I am at Jidda. I stood in no need

of them, as I had credit for 1000 sequins and more, if I should want

it, upon Yousef Cabil, Vizir or Governor of Jidda.

I was conducted into a large room, where Captain Thornhill was sitting,

in a white callico waistcoat, a very high-pointed white cotton

night-cap, with a large tumbler of water before him, seemingly very

deep in thought. The Emir Bahar’s servant brought me forward by the

hand, a little within the door; but I was not desirous of advancing

much farther, for fear of the salutation of being thrown down stairs

again. He looked very steadily, but not sternly, at me; and desired

the servant to go away and shut the door. “Sir, says he, are you an

Englishman?”--I bowed.--“You surely are sick, you should be in your

bed, have you been long sick?”--I said, “long Sir,” and bowed.--“Are

you wanting a passage to India?”--I again bowed.--“Well, says he, you

look to be a man in distress; if you have a secret, I shall respect

it till you please to tell it me, but if you want a passage to India,

apply to no one but Thornhill of the Bengal merchant. Perhaps you are

afraid of somebody, if so, ask for Mr Greig, my lieutenant, he will

carry you on board my ship directly, where you will be safe.”--“Sir,

said I, I hope you will find me an honest man, I have no enemy that

I know, either in Jidda or elsewhere, nor do I owe any man any

thing.”--“I am sure, says he, I am doing wrong, in keeping a poor man

standing, who ought to be in his bed. Here! Philip! Philip!”--Philip

appeared. “Boy,” says he, in Portuguese, which, as I imagine, he

supposed I did not understand, “here is a poor Englishman, that should

be either in his bed or his grave; carry him to the cook, tell him to

give him as much broth and mutton as he can eat; the _fellow_ seems to

have been starved, but I would rather have the feeding of ten to India,

than the burying of one at Jidda.”

Philip de la Cruz was the son of a Portuguese lady, whom Captain

Thornhill had married; a boy of great talents, and excellent

disposition, who carried me with great willingness to the cook. I

made as aukward a bow as I could to Capt. Thornhill, and said, “God

will return this to your honour some day.” Philip carried me into a

court-yard, where they used to expose the samples of their India goods

in large bales. It had a portico along the left-hand side of it, which

seemed designed for a stable. To this place I was introduced, and

thither the cook brought me my dinner. Several of the English from the

vessels, lascars, and others, came in to look at me; and I heard it, in

general, agreed among them, that I was a very thief-like fellow, and

certainly a Turk, and d----n them if they should like to fall into my

hands.

I fell fast asleep upon the mat, while Philip was ordering me another

apartment. In the mean time, some of my people had followed the baggage

to the Custom-house, and some of them staid on board the boat, to

prevent the pilfering of what was left. The keys had remained with

me, and the Vizir had gone to sleep, as is usual, about mid-day. As

soon as he awaked, being greedy of his prey, he fell immediately to my

baggage, wondering that such a quantity of it, and that boxes in such

a curious form, should belong to a mean man like me; he was therefore

full of hopes, that a fine opportunity for pillage was now at hand. He

asked for the keys of the trunks, my servant said, they were with me,

but he would go instantly and bring them. That, however, was too long

to stay; no delay could possibly be granted. Accustomed to pilfer, they

did not force the locks, but, very artist like, took off the hinges at

the back, and in that manner opened the lids, without opening the locks.

The first thing that presented itself to the Vizir’s sight, was the

firman of the Grand Signior, magnificently written and titled, and the

inscription powdered with gold dust, and wrapped in green taffeta.

After this was a white sattin bag, addressed to the Khan of Tartary,

with which Mr Peyssonel, French consul of Smyrna, had favoured me, and

which I had not delivered, as the Khan was then prisoner at Rhodes.

The next was a green and gold silk bag, with letters directed to the

Sherriffe of Mecca; and then came a plain crimson-sattin bag, with

letters addressed to Metical Aga, sword bearer (or Seiictar, as it

is called) of the Sherriffe, or his great minister and favourite. He

then found a letter from Ali Bey to himself, written with all the

superiority of a Prince to a slave.

In this letter the Bey told him plainly, that he heard the governments

of Jidda, Mecca, and other States of the Sherriffe, were disorderly,

and that merchants, coming about their lawful business, were

plundered, terrified, and detained. He therefore intimated to him, that

if any such thing happened to me, he should not write or complain, but

he would send and punish the affront at the very gates of Mecca. This

was very unpleasant language to the Vizir, because it was now publicly

known, that Mahomet Bey Abou Dahab was preparing next year to march

against Mecca, for some offence the Bey had taken at the Sherriffe.

There was also another letter to him from Ibrahim Sikakeen, chief of

the merchants at Cairo, ordering him to furnish me with a thousand

sequins for my present use, and, if more were needed, to take my bill.

These contents of the trunk were so unexpected, that Cabil the Vizir

thought he had gone too far, and called my servant in a violent hurry,

upbraiding him, for not telling who I was. The servant defended

himself, by saying, that neither he, nor his people about him, would so

much as regard a word that he spoke; and the cadi of Medina’s principal

servant, who had come with the wheat, told the Vizir plainly to his

face, that he had given him warning enough, if his pride would have

suffered him to hear it.

All was now wrong, my servant was ordered to nail up the hinges, but he

declared it would be the last action of his life; that nobody opened

baggage that way, but with intention of stealing, when the keys could

be got; and, as there were many rich things in the trunk, intended as

presents to the Sherriffe, and Metical Aga, which might have been taken

out, by the hinges being forced off before he came, he washed his hands

of the whole procedure, but knew his master would complain, and loudly

too, and would be heard both at Cairo and Jidda. The Vizir took his

resolution in a moment like a man. He nailed up the baggage, ordered

his horse to be brought, and attended by a number of naked blackguards

(whom they call soldiers) he came down to the Bengal house, on which

the whole factory took alarm.

About twenty-six years before, the English traders from India to Jidda,

fourteen in number, were all murdered, sitting at dinner, by a mutiny

of these wild people. The house has, ever since, lain in ruins, having

been pulled down and forbidden to be rebuilt.

Great inquiry was made after the English nobleman, whom nobody had

seen; but it was said that one of his servants was there in the Bengal

house; I was sitting drinking coffee on the mat, when the Vizir’s

horse came, and the whole court was filled. One of the clerks of the

custom-house asked me where my master was? I said, “In heaven.” The

Emir Bahar’s servant now brought forward the Vizir to me, who had not

dismounted himself. He repeated the same question, where my master

was?--I told him, I did not know the purport of his question, that I

was the person to whom the baggage belonged, which he had taken to the

custom-house, and that it was in my favour the Grand Signior and Bey

had written. He seemed very much surprised, and asked me how I could

appear in such a dress?--“You cannot ask that seriously, said I; I

believe no prudent man would dress better, considering the voyage I

have made. But, besides, you did not leave it in my power, as every

article, but what I have on me, has been these four hours at the

custom-house, waiting your pleasure.”

We then went all up to our kind landlord, Captain Thornhill, to whom I

made my excuse, on account of the ill usage I had first met with from

my own relation. He laughed very heartily at the narrative, and from

that time we lived in the greatest friendship and confidence. All was

made up, even with Yousef Cabil; and all heads were employed to get

the strongest letters possible to the Naybe of Masuah, the king of

Abyssinia, Michael Suhul the minister, and the king of Sennaar.

Metical Aga, great friend and protector of the English at Jidda, and in

effect, we may say, _sold to them_, for the great presents and profits

he received, was himself originally an Abyssinian slave, was the man of

confidence, and directed the sale of the king’s, and Michael’s gold,

ivory, civet, and such precious commodities, that are paid to them

in kind; he furnished Michael, like wise, with returns in fire-arms;

and this had enabled Michael to subdue Abyssinia, murder the king his

master, and seat another on his throne.

On the other hand, the Naybe of Masuah, whose island belonged to the

Grand Signior, and was an appendage of the government of the Basha

of Jidda, had endeavoured to withdraw himself from his allegiance,

and set up for independency. He paid no tribute, nor could the Basha,

who had no troops, force him, as he was on the Abyssinian side of the

Red Sea. Metical Aga, however, and the Basha, at last agreed; the

latter ceded to the former the island and territory of Masuah, for a

fixed sum annually; and Metical Aga appointed Michael, governor of

Tigré, receiver of his rents. The Naybe no sooner found that he was

to account to Michael, than he was glad to pay his tribute, and give

presents to the bargain; for Tigré was the province from which he drew

his sustenance, and Michael could have over-run his whole territory

in eight days, which once, as we shall see hereafter, belonged to

Abyssinia. Metical’s power being then universally acknowledged and

known, the next thing was to get him to make use of it in my favour.

We knew of how little avail the ordinary futile recommendations of

letters were. We were veteran travellers, and knew the style of the

East too well, to be duped by letters of mere civility. There is no

people on the earth more perfectly polite in their correspondence with

one another, than are those of the East; but their civility means

little more than the same sort of expressions do in Europe, to shew you

that the writer is a well-bred man. But this would by no means do in a

journey so long, so dangerous, and so serious as mine.

We, therefore, set about procuring effective letters, letters of

business and engagement, between man and man; and we all endeavoured to

make Metical Aga a very good man, but no great head-piece, comprehend

this perfectly. My letters from Ali Bey opened the affair to him, and

first commanded his attention. A very handsome present of pistols,

which I brought him, inclined him in my favour, because, as I was

bearer of letters from his superior, I might have declined bestowing

any present upon him.

The English gentlemen joined their influence, powerful enough, to have

accomplished a much greater end, as everyone of these have separate

friends for their own affairs, and all of them were desirous to

befriend me. Added to these was a friend of mine, whom I had known at

Aleppo, Ali Zimzimiah, _i. e._ ‘keeper of the holy well at Mecca,’ a

post of great dignity and honour. This man was a mathematician, and an

astronomer, according to their degree of knowledge in that science.

All the letters were written in a style such as I could have desired,

but this did not suffice in the mind of a very friendly and worthy

man, who had taken an attachment to me since my first arrival. This

was Captain Thomas Price, of the Lion of Bombay. He first proposed

to Metical Aga, to send a man of his own with me, together with the

letters, and I do firmly believe, under Providence, it was to this

last measure I owed my life. With this Captain Thornhill heartily

concurred, and an Abyssinian, called Mahomet Gibberti, was appointed to

go with particular letters besides those I carried myself, and to be an

eye-witness of my reception there.

There was some time necessary for this man to make ready, and a

considerable part of the Arabian Gulf still remained for me to explore.

I prepared, therefore, to set out from Jidda, after having made a

considerable stay in it.

Of all the new things I yet had seen, what most astonished me was

the manner in which trade was carried on at this place. Nine ships

were there from India; some of them worth, I suppose, L. 200,000. One

merchant, a Turk, living at Mecca, thirty hours journey off, where no

Christian dares go, whilst the whole Continent is open to the Turk for

escape, offers to purchase the cargoes of four out of nine of these

ships himself; another, of the same cast, comes and says, he will buy

none, unless he has them all. The samples are shewn, and the cargoes of

the whole nine ships are carried into the wildest part of Arabia, by

men with whom one would not wish to trust himself alone in the field.

This is not all, two India brokers come into the room to settle the

price. One on the part of the India captain, the other on that of the

buyer the Turk. They are neither Mahometans nor Christians, but have

credit with both. They sit down on the carpet, and take an India shawl,

which they carry on their shoulder, like a napkin, and spread it over

their hands. They talk, in the mean time, indifferent conversation,

of the arrival of ships from India, or of the news of the day, as if

they were employed in no serious business whatever. After about twenty

minutes spent in handling each others fingers below the shawl, the

bargain is concluded, say for nine ships, without one word ever having

been spoken on the subject, or pen or ink used in any shape whatever.

There never was one instance of a dispute happening in _these sales_.

But this is not yet all, the money is to be paid. A private Moor, who

has nothing to support him but his character, becomes responsible

for the payment of these cargoes; his name was Ibrahim Saraf when I

was there, _i. e._ Ibrahim the Broker. This man delivers a number of

coarse hempen bags, full of what is supposed to be money. He marks the

contents upon the bag, and puts his seal upon the string that ties the

mouth of it. This is received for what is marked upon it, without any

one ever having opened one or the bags, and, in India, it is current

for the value marked upon it, as long as the bag lasts.

Jidda is very unwholesome, as is, indeed, all the east coast of the Red

Sea. Immediately without the gate of that town, to the eastward, is a

desert plain filled with the huts of the Bedowèens, or country Arabs,

built of long bundles of spartum, or bent grass, put together like

fascines. These Bedowèens supply Jidda with milk and butter. There is

no stirring out of town, even for a walk, unless for about half a mile,

in the south side by the sea, where there is a number of stinking pools

of stagnant water, which contributes to make the town very unwholesome.

Jidda, besides being in the most unwholesome part of Arabia, is, at

the same time, in the most barren and desert situation. This, and

many other inconveniencies, under which it labours, would, probably,

have occasioned its being abandoned altogether, were it not for its

vicinity to Mecca, and the great and sudden influx of wealth from the

India trade, which, once a-year, arrives in this part, but does not

continue, passing on, as through a turnpike, to Mecca; whence it is

dispersed all over the east. Very little advantage however accrues to

Jidda. The customs are all immediately sent to a needy sovereign, and

a hungry set of relations, dependents and ministers at Mecca. The gold

is returned in bags and boxes, and passes on as rapidly to the ships as

the goods do to the market, and leaves as little profit behind. In the

mean time, provisions rise to a prodigious price, and this falls upon

the townsmen, while all the profit of the traffic is in the hands of

strangers; most of whom, after the market is over, (which does not last

six weeks) retire to Yemen, and other neighbouring countries, which

abound in every sort of provision.

Upon this is founded the observation, that of all Mahometan countries

none are so monogam as those of Jidda, and no where are there so many

unmarried women, altho’ this is the country of their prophet, and the

permission of marrying four wives was allowed in this district in the

first instance, and afterwards communicated to all the tribes.

But Mahomet, in his permission of plurality of wives, seems constantly

to have been on his guard, against suffering that, which was intended

for the welfare of his people, from operating in a different manner.

He did not permit a man to marry two, three, or four wives, unless he

could maintain them. He was interested for the rights and rank of these

women; and the man so marrying was obliged to shew before the Cadi, or

some equivalent officer, or judge, that it was in his power to support

them, according to their birth. It was not so with concubines, with

women who were purchased, or who were taken in war. Every man enjoyed

these at his pleasure, and their peril, that is, whether he was able to

maintain them or not.

From this great scarcity of provisions, which is the result of an

extraordinary concourse to a place almost destitute of the necessaries

of life, few inhabitants of Jidda can avail themselves of the privilege

granted him by Mahomet. He therefore cannot marry more than one wife,

because he cannot maintain more, and from this cause arises the want of

people, and the large number of unmarried women.

When in Arabia Felix, where every sort of provision is exceedingly

cheap, where the fruits of the ground, the general food for man, are

produced spontaneously, the supporting of a number of wives costs no

more than so many slaves or servants; their food is the same, and a

blue cotton shirt, a habit common to them all, is not more chargeable

for the one than the other. The consequence is, that celibacy in women

is prevented, and the number of people is increased in a fourfold ratio

by polygamy, to what it is in those that are monogamous.

I know there are authors fond of system, enemies to free inquiry, and

blinded by prejudice, who contend that polygamy, without distinction

of circumstances, is detrimental to the population of a country. The

learned Dr Arbuthnot, in a paper addressed to the Royal Society[189],

has maintained this strange doctrine, in a still stranger manner. He

lays it down, as his first position, that _in semine masculino_ of

our first parent Adam, there was impressed an original necessity of

procreating, ever after, an equal number of males and females. The

manner he proves this, has received great incense from the vulgar, as

containing an unanswerable argument. He shews, by the casting of three

dice, that the chances are almost infinite, that an equal number of

males and females should _not_ be born in any year; and he pretends to

prove, that every year in twenty, as taken from the bills of mortality,

the same number of males and females have constantly been produced,

or at least a greater proportion of men than of women, to make up for

the havock occasioned by war, murder, drunkenness, and all species of

violence to which women are not subject.

I need not say, that this, at least, sufficiently shews the weakness

of the argument. For, if the _equal_ proportion had been _in semine

masculino_ of our first parent, the consequence must have been, that

male and female would have been invariably born, from the creation to

the end of all things. And it is a supposition very unworthy of the

wisdom of God, that, at the creation of man, he could make an allowance

for any deviation that was to happen, from crimes, against the

commission of which his positive precepts ran. Weak as this is, it is

not the weakest part of this artificial argument, which, like the web

of a spider too finely woven, whatever part you touch it on, the whole

falls to pieces.

After taking it for granted, that he has proved the equality of

the two sexes in number, from the bills of mortality in London, he

next supposes, as a consequence, that all the world is in the same

predicament; that is, that an equal number of males and females is

produced every where. Why Dr Arbuthnot, an eminent physician (which

surely implies an informed naturalist) should imagine that this

inference would hold, is what I am not able to account for. He should

know, let us say, in the countries of the east, that fruits, flowers,

trees, birds, fish, every blade of grass, is commonly different, and

that man, in his appearance, diet, exercise, pleasure, government, and

religion, is as widely different; why he should found the issue of an

Asiatic, however, upon the bills of mortality in London, is to the full

as absurd as to assert, that they do not wear either beard or whiskers

in Syria, because that is not the case in London.

I am well aware, that it maybe urged by those who permit themselves to

say every thing, because they are not at pains to consider any thing,

that the course of my argument will lead to a defence of polygamy

in general, the supposed doctrine of the Thelypthora[190]. Such

reflections as these, unless introduced for merriment, are below my

animadversion; all I shall say on that topic is, that they who find

encouragement to polygamy in Mr Madan’s book, the Thelypthora, have

read it with a much more acute perception than perhaps I have done; and

I shall be very much mistaken, if polygamy increases in England upon

the principles laid down in the Thelypthora.

England, says Dr Arbuthnot, enjoys an equality of both sexes, and, if

it is not so, the inequality is so imperceptible, that no inconvenience

has yet followed. What we have now to inquire is, Whether other

nations, or the majority of them, are in the same situation? For, if

we are to decide by this, and if we should happen to find, that, in

other countries, there are invariably born three women to one man, the

conclusion, in regard to that country, must be, that three women to

one man was the proportion of one sex to the other, impressed at the

creation _in semine_ of our first parent.

I confess I am not fond of meddling with the globe _before_ the

_deluge_. But as learned men seem inclined to think that Ararat and

Euphrates are the mountain and river of antediluvian times, and that

Mesopotamia, or Diarbekir, is the ancient situation of the terrestrial

paradise, I cannot give Dr Arbuthnot’s argument fairer play[191], than

to transport myself thither; and, in the same spot where the necessity

was imposed of male and female being produced in equal numbers, inquire

how that case stands now. The pretence that climates and times may have

changed, the proportion cannot be admitted, since it has been taken

for granted, that it exists in the bills of mortality in London, and

governs them to this day; and, since it was founded on necessity, which

must be eternal.

Now, from a diligent inquiry into the south, and scripture-part of

Mesopotamia, Armenia, and Syria, from Mousul (or Nineveh) to Aleppo

and Antioch, I find the proportion to be fully two women born to one

man. There is indeed a fraction over, but not a considerable one. From

Latikea, Laodicea ad mare, down the coast of Syria to Sidon, the number

is very nearly three, or two and three-fourths to one man. Through the

Holy Land, the country called _Horan_, in the Isthmus of Suez, and

the parts of the Delta, unfrequented by strangers, it is something

less than three. But, from Suez to the straits of Babelmandeb, which

contains the three Arabias, the portion is fully four women to one man,

which, I have reason to believe, holds as far as the Line, and 30°

beyond it.

The Imam of Sana[191] was not an old man when I was in Arabia Felix

in 1769; but he had 88 children then alive, of whom 14 only were

sons.--The priest of the Nile had 70 and odd children; of whom, as I

remember, above 50 were daughters.

It may be objected, that Dr Arbuthnot, in quoting the bills of

mortality for twenty years, gave most unexceptionable grounds for

his opinion, and that my single assertion of what happens in a

foreign country, without further foundation, cannot be admitted as

equivalent testimony; and I am ready to admit this objection, as

bills of mortality there are none in any of these countries. I shall

therefore say in what manner I attained the knowledge which I have just

mentioned. Whenever I went into a town, village, or inhabited place,

dwelt long in a mountain, or travelled journies with any set of people,

I always made it my business to inquire how many children they had, or

their fathers, their next neighbours, or acquaintance. This not being a

captious question, or what any one would scruple to answer, there was

no interest to deceive; and if it had been possible, that two or three

had been so wrong-headed among the whole, it would have been of little

consequence.

I then asked my landlord at Sidon, (suppose him a weaver,) how many

children he has had? He tells me how many sons, and how many daughters.

The next I ask is a smith, a tailor, a silk-gatherer, the Cadi of the

place, a cowherd, a hunter, a fisher, in short every man that is not

a stranger, from whom I can get proper information. I say, therefore,

that a medium of both sexes arising from three or four hundred families

indiscriminately taken, shall be the proportion in which one differs

from the other; and this, I am confident, will give the result to be

three women to one man in 50° out of the 90° under every meridian of

the globe.

Without giving Mahomet all the credit for abilities that some have

done, we may surely suppose him to know what happened in his own

family, where he must have seen this great disproportion of four women

born to one man; and from the obvious consequences, we are not to

wonder that one of his first cares, when a legislator, was to rectify

it, as it struck at the very root of his empire, power, and religion.

With this view, he enacted, or rather revived, the law which gave

liberty to every individual to marry four wives, each of whom was

to be equal in rank and honour, without any preference but what the

predilection of the husband gave her. By this he secured civil rights

to each woman, and procured a means of doing away that reproach, of

_dying without issue_, to which the minds of the whole sex have always

been sensible, whatever their religion was, or from whatever part of

the world they came.

Many, who are not conversant with Arabian history, have imagined, that

this permission of a plurality of wives was given in favour of men,

and have taxed one of the most _political_, _necessary_ measures, of

that legislator, arising from motives merely civil, with a tendency

to encourage lewdness, from which it was very far distant. But, if

they had considered that the Mahometan law allows divorce without any

_cause assigned_, and that, every day at the pleasure of the man;

besides, that it permits him as many concubines as he can maintain, buy

with money, take in war, or gain by the ordinary means of address and

solicitations,--they will think such a man was before sufficiently

provided, and that there was not the least reason for allowing him to

marry four wives at a time, when he was already at liberty to marry a

new one every day.

Dr Arbuthnot lays it down as a self-evident position, that four women

will have more children by four men, than the same four women would

have by one. This assertion may very well be disputed, but still it is

not in point. For the question with regard to Arabia, and to a great

part of the world besides, is, Whether or not four women and one man,

married, or cohabiting at discretion, shall produce more children, than

four women and one man who is debarred from cohabiting with any but

one of the four, the others dying unmarried without the knowledge of

man? or, in other words, Which shall have most children, one man and

one woman, or one man and four women? This question I think needs no

discussion.

Let us now consider, if there is any further reason why England should

not be brought as an example, which Arabia, or the East in general, are

to follow.

Women in England are commonly capable of child-bearing at fourteen,

let the other term be forty-eight, when they bear no more; thirty-four

years, therefore, an English woman bears children. At the age of

fourteen or fifteen they are objects of our love; they are endeared

by bearing us children after that time, and none I hope will pretend,

that, at forty-eight and fifty, an English woman is not an agreeable

companion. Perhaps the last years, to thinking minds, are fully more

agreeable than the first. We grow old together, we have a near

prospect of dying together; nothing can present a more agreeable

picture of social life, than monogamy in England.

The Arab, on the other hand, if she begins to bear children at

eleven, seldom or never has a child after twenty. The time then of

her child-bearing is nine years, and four women, _taken altogether_,

have then the term of _thirty-six_. So that the English woman that

bears children for thirty-four years, has only two years less than the

term enjoyed by the four wives whom Mahomet has allowed; and if it be

granted an English wife may bear at fifty, the terms are equal.

But there are other grievous differences. An Arabian girl, at _eleven_

years old, by her youth and beauty, is the object of man’s desire;

being an infant, however, in understanding, she is not a rational

companion for him. A man marries there, say at _twenty_, and before he

is thirty, his wife, improved as a companion, ceases to be an object of

his desires, and a mother of children; so that all the best, and most

vigorous of his days, are spent with a woman he cannot love, and with

her he would be destined to live forty, or forty-five years, without

comfort to himself by increase of family, or utility to the public.

The reasons, then, against polygamy, which subsist in England, do not

by any means subsist in Arabia; and that being the case, it would be

unworthy of the wisdom of God, and an unevenness in his ways, which

we shall never see, to subject two nations, under such different

circumstances, absolutely to the same observances.

I consider the prophecy concerning Ishmael, and his descendants the

Arabs, as one of the most extraordinary that we meet with in the Old

Testament. It was also one of the earliest made, and proceeded upon

grounds of private reparation. Hagar had not sinned, though she had

fled from Sarah with Ishmael her son into the wilderness. In that

desert there were then no inhabitants, and though Ishmael’s[192]

succession was incompatible with God’s promise to Abraham and his son

Isaac, yet neither Hagar nor he having sinned, justice required a

reparation for the heritage which he had lost. God gave him that very

wilderness which before was the property of no man, in which Ishmael

was to erect a kingdom under the most improbable circumstances possible

to be imagined. His [193]hand was to be against every man, and every

man’s hand against him. By his sword he was to live, and pitch his tent

in the _face_ of his brethren.

Never has prophecy been so completely fulfilled. It subsisted from the

earliest ages; it was verified before the time of Moses; in the time

of David and Solomon; it subsisted in the time of Alexander and that

of Augustus Cæsar; it subsisted in the time of Justinian,--all very

distant, unconnected periods; and I appeal to the evidence of mankind,

if, without apparent support or necessity, but what it has derived from

God’s promise only, it is not in full vigour at this very day. This

prophecy alone, in the truth of which all sorts of religions agree, is

therefore of itself a sufficient proof, without other, of the Divine

authority of the scripture.

Mahomet prohibited all pork and wine; two articles which must have

been, before, very little used in Arabia. Grapes, here, grow in the

mountains of Yemen, but never arrive at maturity enough for wine. They

bring them down for this purpose to Loheia, and there the heat of the

climate turns the wine sour before they can clear it of its fæces so

as to make it drinkable; and we know that, before the appearance of

Mahomet, Arabia was never a wine country. As for swine, I never heard

of them in the peninsula, of Arabia, (unless perhaps wild in the woods

about Sana,) and it was from early times inhabited by Jews before the

coming of Mahomet. The only people therefore that ate swine’s flesh

must have been Christians, and they were a sect of little account. Many

of these, however, do not eat pork yet, but all of them were, oppressed

and despised every-where, and there was no inducement for any other

people to imitate them.

Mahomet then prohibiting only what was merely neutral, or indifferent

to the Arabs, indulged them in that to which he knew they were prone.

At the several conversations I had with the English merchants at Jidda,

they complained grievously of the manner in which they were oppressed

by the sherriffe of Mecca and his officers. The duties and fees were

increased every voyage; their privileges all taken away, and a most

destructive measure introduced of forcing them to give presents, which

was only an inducement to oppress, that the gift might be the greater.

I asked them if I should obtain from the Bey of Cairo permission for

their ships to come down to Suez, whither there were merchants in

India who would venture to undertake that voyage? Captain Thornhill

promised, for his part, that the very season after such permission

should arrive in India, he would dispatch his ship the Bengal Merchant,

under command of his mate Captain Greig, to whose capacity and worth

all his countrymen bore very ready testimony, and of which I myself

had formed a very good opinion, from the several conversations we had

together. This scheme was concerted between me and Captain Thornhill

only; and tho’ it must be confessed it had the appearance of an airy

one, (since it was not to be attempted, till I had returned through

Abyssinia and Nubia, against which there were many thousand chances,)

it was executed, notwithstanding, in the very manner in which it had

been planned, as will be after stated.

The kindness and attention of my countrymen did not leave me as long

as I was on shore. They all did me the honour to attend me to the

water edge. If others have experienced pride and presumption, from

gentlemen of the East-Indies, I was most happily exempted from even the

appearance of it at Jidda. Happy it would have been for me, if I had

been more neglected.