BEGINNING OF THE NEW YEAR. — ANOMALOUS RISING OF THE NIGER. — COMMERCIAL
RELATIONS OF TIMBÚKTU.
I had long cherished the hope that the beginning of 1854 would have
found me far advanced on my homeward journey; but greatly disappointed
in this expectation, I began the year with a fervent prayer for a safe
return home in the course of it.
El Médani, my friend from Swéra, or Mogadore, whom I used to call my
political thermometer, or rather my politico-meter, on account of his
exhibiting towards me friendly feelings only at times when he saw
everything quiet, sent me his compliments in the morning of the first of
January; nay, even the two leaders of the hostile factions,—Hammádi, the
rival of my protector, and Táleb Mohammed, the wealthiest merchant in
the town, and the leader of the intriguing merchants from Morocco,—gave
me to understand that they wanted to enter into friendly relations with
me. My health as yet was very precarious; but I felt so much recovered
in mind and body that, preparatory to my longed for departure, I began
arranging the remainder of my baggage, which, with the exception of my
small library, had been very much reduced. To my great astonishment and
delight, while searching through my lumber, I found another thermometer
in good repair. From the remainder of my broken instruments I picked up
a good deal of quicksilver, which I gave to the Sheikh, who himself, as
well as his other unsophisticated friends, derived a great deal of
amusement from observing the qualities of this metal. Meanwhile, my
protector endeavoured to make me fully acquainted with the political
relation in which he stood to his brothers, Sídi Mohammed and Zén el
ʿAbidín, whom he expected soon to arrive, and of whose different views
in politics he gave me some slight hints; and I lamented greatly that
the power of this noble family, instead of being strengthened by the
number of its conspicuous scions, was only rent and split by the
divergency of their views.
The course of my material existence went on very uniformly, with only
slight variations. My daily food, when I was in the town, consisted of
some milk and bread in the morning, a little kuskus, which the Sheikh
used to send, about two in the afternoon, and a dish of negro millet,
containing a little meat, or seasoned with the sauce of the kobéwa, or
_Cucurbita Melopepo_, after sunset. The meat of Timbúktu, at least
during the cold season, agreed with me infinitely better than that of
any other part of Negroland; but this was not the case with the
_Melopepo_, although it is an excellent and palatable vegetable. In the
beginning of my stay I had consumed a great many young pigeons, which
form a favourite dainty in this city. They are sold at the almost
incredibly cheap rate of ten shells each, or at the rate of three
hundred for a dollar; but the poor little things were used for culinary
purposes so soon after breaking the shell as to be almost tasteless. A
very rare dainty was formed by an ostrich egg, which was one day brought
to me. This article is more easily to be obtained in the desert than in
the towns, and such strong food, moreover, is not well adapted to the
stomach of a resident. The Sheikh used also to send me a dish late at
night, sometimes long after midnight; but, on account of the late hour,
I never touched it, and left it to my servants.
It had been arranged that we should make another excursion to Kábara,
but our visit was put off from day to day, although I was extremely
anxious to witness the features of the country, in the present high
level of the river, at the place where I had first landed on my arrival.
Thus I was reduced, for entertainment, to my intercourse with the
Sheikh, his kinsfolk, and followers; and as religious topics were always
brought forward more prominently by my enemies, but especially in the
learned letters which the emír of Hamda-Alláhi sent in reply to the
Sheikh[1], my conversation with the former now began to turn more and
more upon religious subjects, such as the return of the Messiah, and on
the meaning of the name “Paraclete” given in the New Testament to the
Holy Spirit, who was to descend upon the apostles, but which by the
Mohammedans in more recent times is applied to Mohammed, whose coming,
they say, is predicted in this instance by the Holy Book of the
Christians.
One day when I visited the Sheikh, the two brothers were engaged in an
animated discussion respecting the relation of ʿAísa (Jesus Christ) to
Mohammed, and a warm dispute arose on the sophistical question, whether
it would be allowed, after the return of ʿAísa upon earth, to eat
camel’s flesh. The Sheikh himself was anxious to prove how difficult it
would be for themselves to change any part of their creed after the
return of ʿAísa, owing to the difference which existed between the
precepts of the two prophets, and thus intended to excuse the Christians
for not embracing the creed of Mohammed, after having once adopted that
of ʿAísa. The two learned men, in the heat of their dispute, had
overlooked the fact that the camel was a prohibited animal to the Jews,
but not to the Christians, and hence that the return of ʿAísa would not
interfere with their favourite repast. It was by cheerfully entering
into these discussions that I obtained for myself the esteem even of
those who were most anxious to extort from me as much as possible of my
remaining property.
The arrival of another small caravan of the Tawáti was very near causing
me a serious embarrassment. Some of the merchants from Morocco, excited
by commercial jealousy, had spread the report that the calico brought by
that caravan was Christian property, belonging to the English agent in
Ghadámes: and I had some difficulty in making the people understand,
that, even if that article had originally belonged to the agent, it was
now the property of the Tawáti merchants. The presence of those people,
also, caused the road to the north, by way of Tawát, to be again brought
under discussion, as the route most suitable for my home-journey. My
departure was now discussed almost daily; the arrival of our lively and
talkative, but indiscreet messenger, Áhmed el Wádáwi, who had at length
returned from his errand to the Awelímmeden, holding out the hope that
my departure was in reality not far distant; but the fact that none of
the Tawárek had come with him, notwithstanding his assertion that they
were soon to follow, convinced me that my prospect of departure was put
off for an indefinite period.
Towards the end of January the waters of the river reached their highest
level, exhibiting that marvellous anomaly, in comparison with the period
of the rising of other African rivers north of the equator, which is
calculated to awaken astonishment in any man acquainted with the
subject. For when he knows that the rising of these rivers is due to the
fall of the tropical rains, he will naturally expect that the Niger,
like its eastern branch, the Tsádda or Bénuwé, or the Nile, should reach
its highest level in August or September. The fact can only be partly
explained with the means at our disposal, and in the present state of
our knowledge of this part of Africa, although it is illustrated by
similar cases, if we compare it with the anomalous rising of some South-
African rivers; especially the grand discovery of Dr. Livingstone, the
Liambézi, which, forming in its upper course an immense shallow sheet of
water, collects here the greatest amount of water at a time (July and
August) when its lower course, the Zambézi, separated from it and
withdrawn from the immediate effects of the waters collected above by
the marvellous narrowing of the river-bed from the Falls of Victoria[2]
downwards, is in its lowest state, and, through the influence of the
water by which it is joined in its lower course, reaches here its
highest level at quite a different season, February and March. We have
before us exactly the same phenomenon in the case of the Niger, the
great West-African river, which, according to the most accurate
information which I was able to gather on the spot, every year continues
to rise till the end of December or the beginning of January, and does
not begin to decrease before February; while its eastern branch, the
Bénuwé, as well as the lower course of the Niger, where it is called
Kwára, exactly as is the case with the Nile, reaches its highest level
by the end of August and begins to decrease steadily in the course of
October.
To explain the difference and anomaly of these phenomena we must attend
to the different character of these rivers. For while the Bénuwé after
having once assumed a westerly direction follows it up with but very
little deviation, the great western branch describes three quarters of
an immense circle, and having but very little fall in the greater part
of its extraordinary winding course, the waters which flow towards it
from the more distant quarters require a long time to reach its middle
course, so that the rain which falls in the course of September and
October in the country of the Wangaráwa, or the South-eastern Mandigoes,
will certainly continue to swell the river at Timbúktu till the end of
November or even December; for that rain falls in those quarters behind
the coast of Sierra Leone and Cape Palmas till the end of September, and
perhaps even in October, we may conclude with some degree of certainty
from the fact that such is the case on the coast[3]; and this is
confirmed as regards Kakóndi and Tímbo by Caillié’s observations.[4] In
the mountainous southern provinces of Abessinia, too, whose latitude
corresponds exactly with that of the regions from whence the feeders of
the Niger take their rise, the most constant fall of rain has been
observed in September. Now while the whole region between Jenne and
Timbúktu is of a very flat and level character, so that the river,
running along at a very slow rate and with a very meandering course, not
only fills a very broad stream spreading out over the neighbouring low
lands, but forms also a great many backwaters and basins or lakes of
which the Débo is only one although perhaps the largest in size, the
river lower down beyond Bamba, and especially in the district called
Tin-sherífen which we shall visit on our return journey, is shut in and
reduced to the width of a few hundred yards, so that the water, having
expanded over such an immense tract and not exercising therefore the
same pressure which such a volume of water would do under other
circumstances if it were kept together in a narrower channel, preserves
its level or even still increases in extent and depth, while the surplus
produced by the fall of rain in the country higher up has already
diminished.
This is my mode of accounting for a phenomenon which seems to contradict
in so great a measure the whole of the phenomena which have come under
our observation with regard to the effects of rain and the rising of the
rivers north and south of the equator, and imparts to the upper course
of the Niger the same character as the Gabún and other rivers of the
equatorial line which reach their highest level in the course of
February.
Of course this state of the upper river, although it does not reach
always the same level, cannot fail to exercise an influence also upon
the lower part, where it is called Kwára, and where it has been visited
repeatedly by Englishmen. But although, on account of their being
unaware of this character of the river, they have not paid much
attention to its features at the beginning of the hot season, and have
even rarely visited it at that period, nevertheless Mr. Laird, who spent
several months in the Kwára, has not failed to observe a phenomenon
which exactly corresponds to the state of the river which I have just
described. For he records[5] the surprising fact, which formerly must
have been quite unintelligible, but which now receives its full
illustration, namely, that the river _at Iddá began to rise on the 22nd
of March._ This, in my opinion, he erroneously attributes to the rains
up the country, as there are no rains whatever during the whole of
March, and only a few drops in April; but it is evidently the effect of
the waters in the upper and wide part of the river at length beginning
to decrease about the middle of February, if we take the current at from
2½ to 3 miles, as the windings of the river extend to not much less than
2000 miles between Kábara and Iddá. The elevation of Timbúktu above the
level of the sea I assume to be about 900 feet.
It was on the 4th of January that the first boat from Kábara approached
close to the walls of the town of Timbúktu; and, as the immediate result
of such a greater facility of intercourse, the supply of corn became
more plentiful, and, in consequence, much cheaper: the sʿaa of millet
being sold for 40 shells, and the suníye, that is to say, more than two
hundred pounds’ weight, for 3000, or one Spanish dollar, certainly a
very low rate; while I myself, as a foreigner and a stranger, had to pay
3750. The high state of the waters was naturally of the greatest
interest to me; and, in order to satisfy my curiosity, the Sheikh took
me out on the 9th. Emerging from the town at about the middle of the
western wall, where formerly the báb el gibleh[6] was situated, we went
first to the nearest creek of the river, but found here no boats; and
then crossing an extremely barren and stony level reached another branch
of the creek, where eight or ten smaller boats, without a covering or
cabin, were lying; the innermost corner of this creek not being more
than four or five hundred yards distant from the Great Mosque, or
Jíngeré-bér. All the people asserted that the river, at Kábara, had now
reached its highest level, and even affirmed that it had begun to fall
here on the 7th; but, nevertheless, it became evident that the waters
were still rising during the whole of the month,—almost endangering the
safety of the town. On this occasion I learned that a great inundation
in 1640 had flooded a considerable part of the town, and converted into
a lake the central and lowest quarter, which is called Bagíndi, a name
derived, as is asserted, from the tank thus formed having been enlivened
by hippopotami.[7]
Interesting as was that day’s excursion it cost me dear; for being
obliged, not only to be armed myself, but also to have an armed servant
with me, I greatly excited the hostile feelings of the merchants from
Morocco, and especially of that proud nobleman, ʿAbd e’ Salám, who went
about among the great men of the town, saying, that in Morocco we, the
Europeans, or rather the English, were not allowed to wear arms. But to
show the absurdity of this assertion, I stated that while travelling in
Morocco we received armed horsemen for an escort, while here, where
there was no settled form of government, we had to protect ourselves. He
then spread the rumour that an armed English vessel had ascended the
river as far as Gógó; and this curious report was backed with such
strong assertions that my own servant, ʿAlí el Ágeren, felt convinced of
its truth, and thought it strange when I attempted to prove its
absurdity.
But notwithstanding this hostile feeling, ʿAbd e’ Salám deemed it
prudent to send, next day, his friend, Múláy el Méhedí, in order to
excuse himself for the expressions which he had used a few days before
with regard to me. It was this man, Múláy el Méhedí, with whom I should
have liked to be able to converse on friendly terms, as he was a person
of intelligence, and even possessed some little knowledge of astronomy.
Indeed, I was not a little astonished when, conversing with him one day
about the situation of Timbúktu, he came out with the statement that the
town was situated about 18° N. lat., without my having thrown out the
slightest hint in this respect.
All this time the whole of the surrounding country was in a most
disturbed state, owing to several expeditions, or forays, which were
going on, especially by the restless tribe of the Welád ʿAlúsh. They had
lately taken 600 camels from the Welád Mebárek, and had now turned their
predatory incursions into another direction.
On the 12th of January we again went to the tents, which had now been
pitched in another spot, called Ingómaren, at a distance of about six
miles a little S. from E.; but this time our stay in the encampment was
very unlucky for me in several respects. On the 13th I felt tolerably
well, and had a cheerful conversation with my protector about my
approaching departure, when he sent me several presents, such as a large
cover for the top of the tent[8], called “sarámmu” by the Songhay, “e’
béni erréga” by the Moors hereabout, and several leather pillows; but on
the 14th, a little after noon, I was seized with such a sudden and
severe attack of fever as I had never experienced before, accompanied by
violent shivering fits, which made my kind host fear that I had been
poisoned. I had drunk, a short time before, some sour milk brought me by
a Berbúshi, that is to say, a man who, although intimately attached to
the family of the Sheikh, originally belonged to the tribe of the
Berabísh, whose chief murdered Major Laing. Although I myself had no
suspicion that the milk which I had drunk had in any way contributed to
my sudden attack of illness, yet as that man had some private animosity
against me, and did not seem content with a present which I had made him
in return for his small gift, I became so irritated, that I ordered him
away in a very unceremonious manner, which caused a most unpleasant
scene; for, at this conjuncture, all the people, including my own
servants and even my very best friends amongst the Sheikh’s people,
without paying any regard to my feeble state, gave vent to their
feelings against me as a Christian.
But the Sheikh himself did not for a moment change his kind disposition,
sending me tea repeatedly, and calling frequently to see how I was
getting on. Fortunately, a tranquil night’s repose restored me again to
health, and the following morning my friends came to me, one after the
other, in order to beg my pardon for their neglect. While we were
conversing on the preparations for my journey, a messenger brought the
news of the arrival of a very intimate friend of the Sheikh,—Mohammed
ben ʿAbd-Alláhi el Fútáwi,—who had come, with a numerous suite, in order
to stay some time with the Sheikh, and, if possible, to be cured by me
of some serious disease: and the prospect of soon leaving this quarter
was greatly darkened by this circumstance.
[Sidenote: January 15th.]
This was one of those rainy days which are said not to be unusual
towards the end of January and the beginning of February in this quarter
along the river, though, in the other parts of Negroland that I had
visited, I had never beheld anything of the kind. But the quantity of
rain that fell even here was very little, for the sky, which had been
cloudy in the morning, cleared up about noon; and although in the
afternoon it became again overcast, with thunder in the distance
followed by lightning towards evening, yet there fell only a few drops
of rain in the course of the night.
On the 16th, having made a good breakfast on a goat roasted whole before
the fire, we returned again into the town, where I was desired to cure a
man of a disease over which I had no power. The character and position
of the person would have rendered it a circumstance of the highest
importance to me if I had been able to do so. The chronic disease under
which Mohammed ben ʿAbd-Alláhi, for this is the person of whom I speak,
was labouring, cast a melancholy gloom over him. I admired his manners,
and the fine expression of his features; but I was disappointed to find
that, although well versed in his religious books, he did not possess
any historical knowledge as to the former state of these countries,
which formed an object of the highest interest to me. The arrival of
this person made my protector forget all the thoughts of my immediate
departure.
Besides this circumstance, nothing of interest happened for some days,
all the people exhorting me to patience; and, my departure being again
put off, fresh attempts were made to convert me, even by my friends, who
from sheer friendship could not bear to see me adhere to a creed which
they thought erroneous. But I withstood all their attacks, and at times
even ventured to ridicule freely some of their superstitious notions. I
was far from laughing at the chief principles of their doctrine; but, as
they always recurred in their arguments to their belief in sorcery and
demons, I declared one day that, as for us, we had made all the demons
our “khóddemán.” This is an expression with which these people are wont
to denote the degraded and servile tribes; and I represented the
Europeans as having obtained a victory over the spirits, by ascending in
balloons into the higher regions, and from thence firing at them with
rifles. The idea that the Christians must have subjected to their will
the demoniacal powers, occurs very easily to the mind of the Mohammedan,
who does not understand how the former are able to manufacture all the
nice things which issue from their hands.
Meanwhile I was glad to break off my relations with my former friend the
Waláti, who had recently returned from a journey to Áribínda, and who
came to ask me officially whether he was to accompany me on my home
journey or not; but although I told him plainly, that after all that had
happened he could no longer be my companion, I treated him with more
generosity than he deserved.
At the same time, I thought it also prudent to cultivate the good will
of my servant ʿAlí el Ágeren, although he had almost entirely separated
himself from me, and left me to my fate, since he had become fully aware
of the dangerous nature of my position. I demanded from him no sort of
service, though his salary of nine dollars a month went on all the time.
However, being rather short of cash, and not being able to procure a
loan from the people to whom I had been recommended, I was glad to
obtain from a friendly Ghadámsi merchant, of the name of Mohammed ben
ʿAlí ben Táleb, about 50,000 shells, equal to 13⅓ mithkál, reckoned at
3800 shells each, and I afterwards was obliged to add another small sum,
making the whole 25 mithkáls.
In this place I think it well to give a short sketch of the commercial
relations of Timbúktu, though it cannot make the slightest pretension to
completeness, as I did not enter into such free intercourse with the
natives as would have enabled me to combine a sufficient number of facts
into a graphic view of the commercial life of the city. The people with
whom I had most intercourse could offer little or no information on the
subject. My situation in Kanó had been very different.
[Illustration]
The great feature which distinguishes the market of Timbúktu from that
of Kanó is the fact, that Timbúktu is not at all a manufacturing town,
while the emporium of Háusa fully deserves to be classed as such. Almost
the whole life of the city is based upon foreign commerce, which, owing
to the great northerly bend of the Niger, finds here the most favoured
spot for intercourse, while at the same time that splendid river enables
the inhabitants to supply all their wants from without; for native corn
is not raised here in sufficient quantities to feed even a very small
proportion of the population, and almost all the victuals are imported
by water-carriage from Sansándi and the neighbourhood.
The only manufactures carried on in the city, as far as fell under my
observation, are confined to the art of the blacksmith, and to a little
leatherwork. Some of these articles, such as provision or luggage bags,
cushions, small leather pouches for tobacco, and gun-cloths, especially
the leather bags, are very neat, as shown in the accompanying wood-cuts;
but even these are mostly manufactured by Tawárek, and especially
females, so that the industry of the city is hardly of any account. It
was formerly supposed that Timbúktu was distinguished on account of its
weaving[9], and that the export of dyed shirts from hence was
considerable; but I have already had an opportunity of showing that this
was entirely a mistake, almost the whole clothing of the natives
themselves, especially that of the wealthier classes, being imported
either from Kanó[10] or from Sansándi, besides the calico imported from
England. The export of the produce of Kanó, especially by way of Árawán,
extends to the very border of the Atlantic, where it comes into contact
with the considerable import of Malabar cloth by way of St. Louis, or
Ndér, on the Senegal, while the dyed shirts from Sansándi, which, as far
as I had an opportunity of observing, seem to be made of foreign or
English calico, and not of native cotton, do not appear to be exported
to a greater distance. These shirts are generally distinguished by their
rich ornament of coloured silk, and look very pretty; and I am sorry
that I was obliged to give away, as, a present a specimen which I
intended to bring home with me. The people of Timbúktu are very
experienced in the art of adorning their clothing with a fine stitching
of silk, but this is done on a very small scale, and even these shirts
are only used at home. There is, however, a very considerable degree of
industry exercised by the natives of some of the neighbouring districts,
especially Fermágha, who produce very excellent woollen blankets, and
carpets of various colours, which form a most extensive article of
consumption with the natives.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
The foreign commerce has especially three great high-roads: that along
the river from the south-west (for lower down the river there is at
present scarcely any commerce at all), which comprises the trade
proceeding from various points; and two roads from the north, that from
Morocco on the one hand, and that from Ghadámes on the other. In all
this commerce, gold forms the chief staple, although the whole amount of
the precious metal exported from this city appears to be exceedingly
small, if compared with a European standard. It probably does not exceed
an average of 20,000_l._ sterling per year.[11] The gold is brought
either from Bambúk or from Búre, but from the former place in a larger
quantity. The gold from the country of the Wángaráwa does not reach this
market, but, as it seems, at present is directly exported to that part
of the southern coast which on this account is called the Gold Coast.
The species of gold from Bambúk is of a more yellow colour; that from
Búre is rather whitish; and that from Wángara has a greenish hue. Most
of this gold, I think, is brought into the town in rings. I do not
remember to have seen or heard of gold dust, or “tibber,” being brought
to market in small leathern bags, such as Shabíni and other people
describe, containing about one ounce, equal to twenty-five dollars in
value. But, nevertheless, a considerable amount of this article must
come into market, as most of the gold dust which comes to Ghadámes and
Tripoli passes through Timbúktu, while another portion goes directly
from Sansándi to Árawán.[12]
It was evidently in consequence of the influence of the Arabs, that the
scale of the mithkál[13] was introduced in the trade in gold; but it is
a very general term, which may signify very different quantities, and
thus we find various kinds of mithkáls used in Negroland, especially
those of Ágades, Timbúktu, and Mango, the Mandingo place between Yendí
and the Niger, the former of which is the smallest, and equal, as I have
stated in the proper place, to 1000 shells of Háusa standard, although
in the present decayed state of the town of Ágades, where all the gold
trade has ceased, it possesses rather an imaginary value. The mithkál of
Timbúktu contains the weight of 24 grains of the kharúb tree, or 96 of
wheat, and is worth from 3000 to 4000 shells.[14] The mithkál of Mango
is equal to 1¼ of that of Timbúktu. Besides rings, very handsome
ornaments are worked of gold; but, as far as I could learn, most of this
workmanship comes from Waláta, which is still celebrated on this
account.[15]
The next article that forms one of the chief staples in Timbúktu, and in
some respects even more so than gold, is salt, which, together with
gold, formed articles of exchange all along the Niger from the most
ancient times.[16] It is brought from Taödénni, a place whose situation
has been tolerably well established by M. Caillié’s journey[17], and the
mines of which have been worked, as we know from Áhmed Bábá, since the
year 1596, when the former mines of Tegháza, situated some seventy miles
further to the north, were given up. These salt mines of Tegháza appear
to have been worked from very remote times, or at least before the
eleventh century; and there can be little doubt that the mines of
Tátentál, described by the excellent geographer El Bekrí as situated
twenty days’ journey from Sijilmésa, and two from the beginning of the
desert, are identical with Tegháza. Even at that time both Sigilmésa and
Ghánata were provided from here, while at least the eastern and original
portion of Songhay was supplied at that early period from the mines of
Taútek, six days from Tademékka.[18]
In Taödénni the salt, which covers a very extensive tract of ground in
the district “El-Jóf,” is formed in five layers, or “úje,” the uppermost
of which is called el-wára; the second, el-bentí; the third, el-
hammamíye; the fourth, el-káhela, or the black one; and the lowest,
which is embedded in the water, el-kámera, or el-bédha. The upper of
these layers are of little value, and the most in request is the fourth
layer, or el-káhela, the colour of which is a most beautiful
intermixture of black and white, like a species of marble. The ground is
let out by the “káíd,” who resides here, and whose name at the present
time is Zén, in small portions, where the diggings are made, and he
levies a tribute called the khomús from each hofra, or hole, the rest
being sold by the workmen.
The largest pieces of salt which are dug out here measure 3 feet 5
inches in length, 13 inches in height, and 2⅓ inches in thickness, but
they are of very unequal size, varying from 50 to 65 lb. in weight;
this, however, is only half of one layer, each layer being sawn into two
slabs. The price of these slabs of course varies greatly at different
times, but, as far as I became aware, in general does not reach such an
exorbitant price as has been mentioned by Leo Africanus, Mr. Jackson,
General Daumas, and others. When lowest, the price of each middle-sized
slab does not exceed 3000 shells; and the highest price which was paid
during my residence in the town was 6000, the price always rising
towards spring, when the salt caravans become scarce on account of the
number of blood-flies which infest the town and the neighbourhood of the
river. Of course, when this great highroad is shut up for a long period,
in consequence of feuds between the various tribes, the price may for a
time rise much higher, but such cases must be quite exceptional.
The trade in salt on a large scale, as far as regards Timbúktu, is
entirely carried on by means of the túrkedí, or the cloth for female
apparel, manufactured in Kanó; the merchants of Ghadámes bartering in
the market of Árawán six túrkedí, or “mélhafa,” for nine slabs, or
“hajra,” of salt, on condition that the Arabs bring the salt ready to
market; or twelve, including the carriage to Taödénni. If they
themselves then carry the salt to Timbúktu, they sell there eight slabs
of salt for six mithkál of gold; but if they carry it to Sansándi, each
slab of salt fetches two mithkál.
But the expense of this journey up the river is very great, on account
of the boats being obliged to unship their merchandise at the islands of
Jafarábe, whence it is taken to Sansándi on the backs of asses, and on
account of the ʿashúr, which is levied by the Fúlbe, the expense is
equal to about thirty-three per cent; so that, out of every six slabs of
salt transported to Sansándi, two are required for covering the expense
of transport. Thus, each túrkedí bought in Kanó for about 1800 shells
fetches two mithkál of gold when sold in Sansándi, while in Timbúktu it
fetches from one to one and one sixth. This certainly, when we take into
account the price of gold in Ghadámes and Tripoli, is a considerable
profit: but the road which this merchandise takes from Kanó to Ghát,
thence to Tawát, and from that place to Timbúktu, is very circuitous and
expensive, and requires the agency and cooperation of several persons,
no single merchant undertaking the whole of the traffic.
I have already remarked, in the proper place, that Libtáko, or rather
Dóre, forms the market-place for the salt for supplying the provinces to
the south-east of Timbúktu. It is transported thither by a direct road
by way of Tósaye or Gógó, without touching at Timbúktu; while, with
regard to the region to the south-west, Sansándi is the great entrepôt
for this commerce. The trade in this article, which, in countries where
it is wanting entirely, becomes so precious, and the more so the greater
its bulk, is, as I said before, of very ancient date in this western
part of Negroland. But the salt was brought at that period, not from
Taödénni, but from the neighbouring salt mines of Tegháza; and, in the
former period, found its entrepôt in Ghánata and Waláta.
The gúro, or kóla nut, which constitutes one of the greatest luxuries of
Negroland, is also a most important article of trade. Possessing this,
the natives do not feel the want of coffee, which they might so easily
cultivate to any extent, the coffee plant seeming to be indigenous in
many parts of Negroland. The gúro which is brought to the market of
Timbúktu is imported from the provinces of Tangréra, the town which was
touched at by M. Caillié on his journey from Sierra Leone to Morocco,
and of Teuté and Káni, to the south of Timé; while the gúro which is
brought to the market of Kanó is imported from the northern province of
Asanti; and the trees which furnish these different kinds of kóla nuts
do not belong to the same species, being distinguished as _Sterculia
acuminata_, or the red kóla nut, and _Sterculia macrocarpa_, or the
white kóla nut; although the variety appears merely to apply to the
seed, the fruit of the latter kind being generally of larger size, while
both flower and leaf are quite identical.
But there is a good deal of variety in the character of the gúro nut of
each of these two species; and in Kanó four different kinds are
distinguished, according to the size of the fruit; namely, the guríye,
the largest fruit, which often measures an inch and a half, and
sometimes even nearly two inches in diameter, and is sold at a very high
price; secondly, the marsakátu; in the third place, the sára-n-wága; and
fourth, the ménu. But this is not all. There is a further distinction of
three kinds, according to the season when the fruit is gathered: first,
the já-n-karágu, the first gúro, which is collected about the end of
February, but spoils easily, like the takdúf among the dates; secondly,
the gammagári, collected at a later season, when the greater part of the
fruit is ripe, and remaining from three to four months on the tree,
being regarded by the Arabs as corresponding to those kind of dates
called tásfirt; and lastly, there is the náta, the rest of the gúro, and
of small size, which does not spoil.
As for the gúro sold in Timbúktu, I had no opportunity of observing so
many different varieties, but only became aware of three distinctions
being made, viz. the tinóro, or Tíno-úro, “úro” being the corresponding
Songhay name for gúro, and Tíno, or Tína, the name of a district; then
the kind called síga; and thirdly, that called fára-fára.
As regards Selga, the district to which the Háusa traders go for their
supply of this article, three points are considered essential to the
business of the kóla trade; first, that the people of Mósi bring their
asses; secondly, that the Tonáwa, or natives of Asanti, bring the nut in
sufficient quantities; and thirdly, that the state of the road is such
as not to prevent the Háusa people from arriving. If one of these
conditions is wanting, the trade is not flourishing. The price of the
asses rises with the cheapness of the gúro. The average price of an ass
in the market of Selga is 15,000 shells; while in Háusa the general
price does not exceed 5000. But the fatáki, or native traders, take only
as many asses with them from Háusa as are necessary for transporting
their luggage, as the toll, or fitto, levied upon each ass by the petty
chiefs on the road, is very considerable. From 5000 to 6000 gúro, or
kóla nuts, constitute an ass load.
Selga, the market-place for this important article, being, it appears, a
most miserable town, where even water is very scarce and can only be
purchased at an exorbitant price, the merchants always manage to make
their stay here as short as possible, awaiting the proper season in
Yendi, a town said to be as large as Timbúktu, or in Kulféla, the great
market-place of Mósi; and they are especially obliged to wait in case
they arrive at the beginning of the rainy season, there being no kóla
nuts before the latter part of the kharíf. The price of this nut in
Timbúktu varies from 10 to 100 shells each, and always constitutes a
luxury, so that, even on great festivals, alms consisting of this
article are distributed by the rich people of the town.
So much for three of the most important articles of trade in
Timbúktu,—gold, salt, and the kóla nut; the salt trade comprising also
the dealings in the native cloth manufactured in Kanó, which forms the
general medium of exchange for this article, and about which I have
already spoken in detailing the commerce of the great entrepôt of Háusa.
I will only add here, that, as Kanó is not a very old place, this want
must have been supplied before from some other quarter. It is probable
that, as long as Songhay was flourishing, such an import was not needed
at all; and we find from several remarks made by El Bekrí, and other
ancient geographers, that the art of weaving was very flourishing on the
Upper Niger, but especially in the town of Silla, from very ancient
times.[19] It is highly interesting to learn from these accounts that
even in the eleventh century the cotton cloth was called in this region
by the same name which it still bears at the present day, namely,
“shigge.”
The price of the articles brought to this market from the region of the
Upper Niger, especially from Sansándi, varies greatly, depending as it
does upon the supply of the moment. Provisions, during my stay, were,
generally speaking, very cheap, while Caillié complains of the high
prices which prevailed in his time.[20] But it must also be taken into
account that the French traveller proceeded from those very countries on
the Upper Niger from which Timbúktu is supplied, and where, in
consequence, provisions are infinitely cheaper, while I came from
countries which, owing to the state of insecurity and warfare into which
they have been plunged for a long series of years, were suffering from
dearth and famine.
The chief produce brought to the market of Timbúktu consists of rice and
negro corn; but I am quite unable to state the quantities imported.
Besides these articles, one of the chief products is vegetable butter,
or mai-kadéña, which, besides being employed for lighting the dwellings,
is used most extensively in cookery as a substitute for animal butter,
at least by the poorer class of the inhabitants. Smaller articles, such
as pepper, ginger, which is consumed in very great quantities, and
sundry other articles, are imported. A small quantity of cotton is also
brought into the market, not from Sansándi, I think, but rather from
Jimbálla and some of the neighbouring provinces, no cotton being
cultivated in the neighbourhood of the town: but the natives do not seem
to practise much weaving at home, even for their own private use.
At the time of my visit, the caravan trade with Morocco, which is by far
the most important, was almost interrupted by the feuds raging among the
tribes along that road, especially between the Érgebát and Tájakánt on
the one side, and the various sections of the Tájakánt on the other.
This is the reason why in that year there were no large caravans at all,
which in general arrive about the beginning of November, and leave in
December or January.
These caravans from the north are designated, by the Arabs in this
region, by the curious name ʿakabár (in the plural, ʿakwabír); the
origin of which I have not been able to make out, but it is evidently to
be ranked among that class of hybrid words used by the people
hereabouts, which belong neither to the Arabic nor to the Berber
language. The same term is even used in Morocco to denote a very large
caravan or an aggregate of many small caravans; but in Timbúktu the term
kafla is quite unusual for small parties, the name in use being
“réfega.”
In former times these caravans, at least those from Morocco by way of
Téfilélet, and from the wádí Darʿa by way of the territory of the ʿAríb,
seem to have been numerous, although they never amounted to the number
mentioned in Mr. Jackson’s account of Morocco[21], and in various other
works.
The small caravans of Tájakánt which arrived during my stay in the town,
the largest of which did not number more than seventy or eighty camels,
are rather an exception to the rule, and can therefore furnish no data
with regard to the average, although I am quite sure that they very
rarely exceed 1000 camels. The consequence of this state of things was,
that, especially during the first part of my residence, the merchandise
from the north fetched a very high price, and sugar was scarcely to be
had at all.
With regard to European manufactures, the road from Morocco is still the
most important for some articles, such as red cloth, coarse coverings,
sashes, looking-glasses, cutlery, tobacco; while calico especially,
bleached as well as unbleached, is also imported by way of Ghadámes, and
in such quantities of late, that it has greatly excited the jealousy of
the Morocco merchants. The inhabitants of Ghadámes are certainly the
chief agents in spreading this manufacture over the whole north-western
part of Africa, and, in consequence, several of the wealthier Ghadámsi
merchants employ agents here. The most respectable among the foreign
merchants in Timbúktu is Táleb Mohammed, who exercises at the same time
a very considerable political influence; and the wealthiest merchants
from Morocco besides him, during the time of my stay, were El Méhedi,
the astronomer, Múlʿa ʿAbd e’ Salám, the nobleman, and my friend the
Swéri: while among the Ghadámsi merchants, Mohammed ben Táleb, Snúsi ben
Kyári, Mohammed Lebbe-Lebbe, Haj ʿAlí ben Sháwa, and Mohammed Weled el
Kádhi, were those most worth mentioning.
But to apply even to these first-rate merchants a European standard of
wealth would be quite erroneous, the actual property of none of them
exceeding probably 10,000 dollars, and even that being rather an
exceptional case. Scarcely any of them transact business on a large
scale, the greater part of them being merely agents for other merchants
residing in Ghadámes, Swéra (Mogador), Merákesh (Morocco), and Fás.
The greater part of the European merchandise comes by way of Swéra,
where several European merchants reside, and from this quarter proceeds
especially the common red cloth, which, together with calico, forms one
of the chief articles of European trade brought into the market. All the
calico which I saw bore the name of one and the same Manchester firm,
printed upon it in Arabic letters. But I am quite unable, either with
respect to this article or any other, to give an account of the quantity
brought into market. All the cutlery in Timbúktu is of English
workmanship. Tea forms a standard article of consumption with the Arabs
settled in and around the town; for the natives it is rather too
expensive a luxury.
A feature which greatly distinguishes the market of Timbúktu from that
of Kanó, is the almost entire absence of that miserable kind of silk, or
rather refuse, “twáni” and “kundra,” which forms the staple article in
the market of Kanó. Other articles also of the delicate Nüremberg
manufacture are entirely wanting in this market: such as the small round
looking-glasses, called “lemmʿa,” which some time ago had almost a
general currency in Kanó. The market of Timbúktu, therefore, though not
so rich in quantity, surpasses the rival market of Kanó in the quality
of the merchandise. Bernúses, or Arab cloaks, furnished with a hood,
also seem to be disposed of here to a considerable extent, although they
must form too costly a dress for most of the officers at the courts of
the petty chiefs, in the reduced state of all the kingdoms hereabouts;
and at all events they are much more rarely seen here than in the
eastern part of Negroland. These bernúses of course are prepared by the
Arabs and Moors in the north, but the cloth is of European manufacture.
The calico imported constitutes a very important article. It is carried
from here up the country as far as Sansándi, although in the latter
place it comes into competition with the same article which is brought
from the western and south-western coasts.
Among the Arab merchandise tobacco forms a considerable article of
consumption, especially that produced in Wádí Nún, and called, _par
excellence_, “el warga,” “the leaf,” as it is not only smoked by the
Arabs and natives in the country, as far as they are not exposed to the
censure of the ruling race of the Fúlbe, but is even exported to
Sansándi. I have already observed that tobacco constitutes a contraband
article in all the towns where the Fúlbe of Hamda-Alláhi exercise
dominion, and in Timbúktu especially, where one can only indulge in this
luxury in a clandestine manner.
Tobacco, together with dates, forms also the chief article of import
from Tawát, the species from that place being called “el wargat,” the
leaves indicating its inferior character to the first-rate article from
Wadí Nún. Dates and tobacco form articles of trade among the people of
Tawát, the poor tradesmen of that country possessing very little of
themselves besides. But the quantity of these articles imported has also
been greatly overrated by those who have spoken of the commercial
relations of these regions from a distance. At least I am sure that the
whole of the time I was staying in the town only about twenty camel-
loads of these two articles together were imported.
With regard to exports, they consisted, at the time of my stay in the
place, of very little besides gold and a moderate quantity of gum and
wax, while ivory and slaves, as far as I was able to ascertain, seemed
not to be exported to any considerable amount. However, a tolerable
proportion of the entire export from these regions proceeds by way of
Árawán, without touching at Timbúktu. At any rate, those gentlemen who
estimate the annual export of slaves from Negroland to Morocco at about
4000[22] are certainly mistaken, although in this, as well as in other
respects, the exceptional and anarchical state of the whole country at
the time of my residence, and my own most critical situation, did not
allow me to arrive at any positive results. Thus much is certain, that
an immense field is here opened to European energy, to revive the trade
which, under a stable government, formerly animated this quarter of the
globe, and which might again flourish to great extent. For the situation
of Timbúktu is of the highest commercial importance, lying as it does at
the point where the great river of Western Africa, in a serpentlike
winding, approaches most closely to that outlying and most extensive
oasis of “the far West,”—Mághreb el Aksa, of the Mohammedan world,—I
mean Tawát, which forms the natural medium between the commercial life
of this fertile and populous region and the north; and whether it be
Timbúktu, Waláta, or Ghánata, there will always be in this neighbourhood
a great commercial _entrepôt_, as long as mankind retain their tendency
to international intercourse and exchange of produce.
[Footnote 1: I possess two of these essays, the contents of which at the
present moment are not quite devoid of interest, as they show in what
light these Mohammedans regard the Christians.]
[Footnote 2: I assume here the identity of these two rivers, which,
however, has not yet been fully demonstrated. Compare also the anomalous
rising of the Chobé (Journ. Royal Geol. Soc., vol. xxii. p. 169.);
although an isolated phenomenon, caused by an unusual and unequal fall
of rain in the basin of the various branches of a great river-system,
must not be confounded with a constant and regular course.]
[Footnote 3: See Isert in the Journal Hertha, vol. x. a. 1827, p. 374.;
M‘Gill in Berghaus’s Journal (Zeitschrift), vol. viii. a. 1848, p.
59-61.; with regard to Cape Palmas, Fraissinet in Nouvelles Annales des
Voyages, 1855, vol. ii. p. 291-293.]
[Footnote 4: See Tomaro from Caillié’s Observations in Berghaus’s Annal.
1829, p. 769.; but especially Caillié’s own account of his stay in Timé,
vol. i. p. 328. (Eng. ed.): “The rains, to be sure, were not so
incessant, but we regularly had rain every day, _until October_, when it
became less frequent.” We know also from Caillié that the Milo, the
South-eastern branch of the Niger, or Dhiúlibá, reaches its highest
level in September. Park’s observations, even, show that the rains in
the districts traversed by him extend till November; while we learn from
him (Park’s First Journey, 3rd ed. 4to. p. 12.) that the Gambia, whose
feeders partly issue from the same districts which feed the western
branches of the Niger, reaches its highest level in the beginning of
October; and when we learn, from the same eminent traveller, that by the
beginning of November the Gambia had sunk already to its former level,
we must take into account the very short course of that river in
comparison with the Niger which has a course of two thousand miles. The
sinking of the Niger at Sansándi by about four inches, on the 8th of
October (Park, vol. ii. p. 274), was only a temporary fluctuation.]
[Footnote 5: See Laird and Oldfield, vol. ii. p. 275. “It was a source
of satisfaction to find that, owing to the rains up the country, the
river began to rise about Saturday, March 22nd, since which time it had
increased about two inches. A few drops of rain that fell this morning
was all that we had at Iddah.”]
[Footnote 6: Shabíni, in stating that the báb el gibleh was the east
gate, certainly labours under a mistake, “gibleh” with these Western
Arabs signifying the west. With regard to the creek, where we saw the
boats, see the ground plan, Vol. IV. p. 478, n. 10.]
[Footnote 7: The hippopotamus being called “banga” in the Songhay
language, the name, if really derived from that cause, ought to be spelt
“Bangíndi;” but the _g_ may be a nasal sound.]
[Footnote 8: I have handed over this specimen of Timbúktu manufacture,
together with other specimens of leather-work, to the Foreign Office.]
[Footnote 9: It may have been so, nevertheless, in the time of Leo, who
mentions the many “botteghe di tessitori di tele di bambagio.” B. vii.
c. 5.]
[Footnote 10: I will here only observe that Lord Fitzclarence, owing to
the inquiries which, on his passage along the Red Sea, he made of a
clever pilgrim, obtained a hint of this interesting fact. Journey from
India overland, p. 423.]
[Footnote 11: M. Gråberg de Hemsö estimates the export of Morocco
manufactures to Negroland at one million dollars, and the import to
Morocco from Nigritia, at from three to four millions. Specchio di
Morocco, &c., p. 146.]
[Footnote 12: M. Testa, in his “Notice statistique et commerciale sur la
Régence de Tripoli, 1856,” states the import of gold dust into Tripoli
to be of the value of 240,000 francs.]
[Footnote 13: Whether it be true as some maintain (amongst others M.
Prax, “Commerce de l’Algérie, 1849,” p. 13.), that the name mithkál is a
corruption of “medical,” a term used to denote the small weight used for
medical purposes, I am not able to decide. I always thought that it was
derived from ثَقَلَ.]
[Footnote 14: M. Prax, p. 12. of the little pamphlet just mentioned in
the preceding note, is totally wrong in supposing the mithkál of
Timbúktu equal to half a duro, or Spanish dollar, or two fr. sixty
cents. The very lowest price is just double.]
[Footnote 15: There are some interesting articles of gold represented by
Lord Fitzclarence in the work above mentioned.]
[Footnote 16: See El Bekrí, ed. de Slane, p. 174:—
يبدل الملح فيها بالذهب
In another passage (p. 183.) he describes the commerce of Gógó in the
words:—
وتجارة اهل بلد كوكوا بالملح وهو نقدهم
“The commerce of Gógó consists of salt, and salt is their standard
currency.”]
[Footnote 17: See Caillié’s Travels to Timbuctoo, ii. p. 119; and about
Tegháza, or, as he writes, Trasas, or Trarzas, p. 128.]
[Footnote 18: El Bekrí, p. 171. In the time of Ébn Haukál (a. H. 960)
the salt was brought from Aúlíl to Aúdaghost.]
[Footnote 19: El Bekrí, p. 173:—
وتبايع اهل سلي بالذرة والملح وحلق النحاس وازر لطاف من قطن يسمونها
الشكيات - الازر المسماة بالشكياتن]
[Footnote 20: Caillié, Journey to Timbúctoo, ii. p. 33.]
[Footnote 21: P. 96. Here Jackson states the average size of such a
caravan at 10,000 camels; and even the more cautious M. Gråberg de Hemsö
repeats these statements in his “Specchio di Morocco,” p. 144. seq.
“Ciononostante (le caravane) conducono talvolta seco _da 16 fino a 20
mila cammelli_.”]
[Footnote 22: Gråberg de Hemsö, Specchio di Morocco, p. 146. Besides
slaves, he enumerates as articles of export from Timbúktu to Morocco,
ivory, rhinoceros horns, incense, gold dust, cotton strips (? verghe),
jewels, ostrich feathers of the first quality, gum copal, cotton,
pepper, cardamom, asafœtida, and indigo.]