Description of el-Fez — Markets, monuments, gardens, police —
Mequinaz — Inhospitality — Arm of the sea called Sbo — Arbata
or Rabat, the ancient Sallee — Visit to the Consular Agent —
The traveller avoids the camp of the Emperor of Morocco — Writes
to the Vice Consul M. Delaporte — Larache — Arrives at Tangier
7th of September, almost dying, emaciated by want, fatigue, and
fever — Generous reception of M. Delaporte — Anxiety of the
traveller — Is introduced by night and concealed by the Consul
— M. Delaporte obtains from the naval commander of the Cadiz
station a vessel to convey him to France.
El-Fez, so called by its inhabitants, but designated on the maps by
the name of Fez, is a large city belonging to the empire of Morocco,
of which it was formerly the capital. It is situated in a species
of natural tunnel formed by lofty well-wooded mountains, whence
spring several considerable rivulets, which, after fertilizing the
valley, supply the city with excellent water. Every mosque contains
_jets d’eau_, and in several streets there are fountains for
the refreshment of the thirsty passenger: here are also several
water-mills for grinding corn. The city extends from east to west
and must be about four miles in circumference, as far as I could
judge from a survey of it from the top of a hill. It is surrounded
by a double brick wall, about twelve or thirteen feet high, well
constructed and ornamented at intervals with raised copings. I was
astonished by the regular architecture of a spacious gateway, in the
form of a triumphal arch, through which the city is entered. Under
this arch were established a number of venders of provisions.
Within the compass of the outer wall are some gardens, and small
low houses, called the suburbs; here I observed some manufactories
of Delft ware and tiles. The houses have terraced roofs like those
of Timbuctoo, and are built of bricks perfectly well formed and
baked in a kiln. Their masonry is not very correct: small, square
and strongly grated windows overlook the streets; and the outsides,
which are lime-washed, are much out of repair; they have generally
a story above the ground-floor, which receives air and light only
from an inner court.
The streets are paved, but narrow, winding, dark, and dirty to the
last degree; I saw in some places, dogs and cats which had been
long dead and emitted a pestilential stench.
These streets are nothing more than galleries covered by trellises
or masonry, which deprive them of a free circulation of air,
concentrate all the disagreeable effluvia of the city, and render
it very unwholesome.
The principal manufactures of Fez are blankets and gunpowder;
ploughs and wooden spades are also made there, and the city contains
locksmiths, cutlers, shoemakers, tailors, masons, blacksmiths,
who likewise act as farriers, and gunsmiths, but the fabrication
of their guns falls far short of the perfection of ours.
Shops may be found in most quarters of the town furnished with all
sorts of provisions, dried or otherwise; as bread, meat, butter,
pastry, fruit, and vegetables. As there are no inns, travellers
without acquaintance in the city have no other resource than to
buy what they want at these shops, and to carry it to the mosque
or to the fandac to eat.
A market is held every day; it is attended by a great concourse of
strangers, who come from great distances to sell their commodities:
great quantities of dates and tanned leather are brought to this
market from Tafilet; the inhabitants of the mountains supply it
with honey and wax, of which last candles are made, not only for
home consumption, but for large consignments to the principal
maritime towns.
For the security of the shops, dogs are every night turned loose into
the streets of the market; these animals, trained for the purpose,
perform their duty so zealously, that, but for the interference of
men who sleep near, they would inevitably devour such passengers
as chance or business attract to the spot confided to their charge.
No monument of departed splendour exists at Fez to awaken curiosity
or recal the former magnificence of the conquerors of Spain: but it
boasts of many mosques, each surmounted by a square tower of about
a hundred feet in height, upon which a white flag is hoisted as
the signal for prayer. I visited several of them, accompanied by
the good-natured negro of Mequinaz; and found them large edifices
of an oblong square form, containing several galleries raised
upon well-built arcades. The only one which appeared to merit
particular attention is called by the Moors Mouladrib, probably
from the name of its founder. It is the chief ornament of the
city. The interior is preserved with the utmost care; it is paved
with small pieces of well varnished Dutch tiles, of various colours
and shapes, tastefully arranged in mosaic; and the whole compass of
the walls, to the height of two feet and a half, is inlaid in the
same manner. The arches which support the roof are of far superior
workmanship to those of the other mosques; two of them are raised on
finely sculptured marble columns, the other pillars are of brick,
covered with plaster. The vaulted ceiling is composed of boards,
painted yellow and red, and adorned by a broad band of gold colour
forming the cornice. Within a sort of sanctuary, in the middle of
the mosque, stands a small altar, covered with a cloth embroidered
with flowers in gold; and around it are placed several glass lamps
and flambeaux, and near it is a handsome lustre hanging from a gilt
cupola; a multitude of suspended lamps are also dispersed throughout
the temple, to enlighten the faithful. The thirsty traveller is
refreshed by a very beautiful fountain which plays in an inner
court and invites numbers to sleep within its cooling influence.
Neither inns nor hotels are to be found in Fez; their place is
supplied only by fandacs similar to those which I have already
described. Here travellers who possess beasts of burden are obliged
to sleep on the ground beside them, and themselves to provide them
with forage. They usually take their meals at the mosque, pass the
greater part of the day there, and would sleep there if permitted.
The proprietors of the fandacs exact six felouses per head for the
cattle, a sum equivalent to two French sous.
Two hills, which command the city are defended each by an
insignificant fortress, having embrasures but no cannon: one is
situated nearly S. E., and the other, in which some prisoners were
confined, is to the N. W.
The immediate environs, for two or three miles round, are highly
cultivated, and produce abundance of vines, and olive, fig, apple
and pear trees; near the wall are mulberry-trees of considerable
height. I have seen flower-gardeners selling in the markets a great
variety of flowers, similar to those which adorn our parterres in
France. At some distance from the town are a great number of little
mausoleums, in which the remains of the most distinguished sherifs
are deposited.
Fez is computed to contain about twenty thousand inhabitants, all
either artificers or traders, who carry on an extensive commerce in
European manufactures, which they export to Tafilet and Timbuctoo
as well as to the adjacent mountainous countries.
The 14th of August, at seven in the morning, I quitted the fandac
and walked through the city with my leathern bag thrown over my
shoulder. A long street conducted me to the western gate, where I
hired a mule to carry me to Mequinaz; and, our provision for the
journey being prepared, we departed, directing our course W. N. W.,
over a smooth soil composed of very good mould but uncultivated. I
remarked several tents of wandering Arabs pitched beside a little
river formed by the junction of the rivulets which water the environs
of Fez. Our road, which was very uneven, lay between two ridges of
barren hills, and crossed several well constructed bridges.
About two o’clock we rested under a bridge which sheltered us
from the sun. We had in our company two women who, being under
no restraint, shewed but little solicitude to conceal their fair
complexions and pretty faces beneath their veils; one of them rode on
my mule behind me; and I presume that my attentions were agreeable
to her, as she offered me a slice of melon and a bit of bread which
I accepted with pleasure. Our pretty fellow-travellers, however,
learning that the Emperor had set out for Rabat, returned to Fez,
and I continued my route with my guide alone; our mules keeping up
so good a pace that I estimated our progress at four miles an hour.
At five in the morning we arrived at Mequinaz, the streets of which
city were as dirty and narrow as those of Fez; and, entering a
fandac, I begged to be allowed to sleep in a stable, a favour which
the master refused in the rudest manner. Turning from a place which
offered so little hospitality to an unfortunate stranger, I sought
refuge in the mosque, the asylum of the indigent: there I hoped to
repose in peace till the morning; but alas! I was disappointed. About
ten at night an old bamâb (porter) came to me, and kicking me,
roughly desired me in a hoarse voice to rise and begone, for he
was about to shut up. In vain I represented myself as a stranger
not knowing whither to go, and implored him to allow me to pass the
night in this retreat: without the least regard to my situation he
compelled me to leave the mosque. Such conduct ought not to have
surprised me, for in this part of Africa, as in some other more
civilized countries, men are distinguished only by their apparel,
and it must be confessed that mine did not plead in my favour; but
I considered that it would be highly imprudent to study my dress:
my rags excited no attention, and this livery of poverty served as a
veil with which prudence required that I should still envelop myself.
I possessed some pieces of silver and four buckles made of gold
from the mines of Bouré; but, as it would have been dangerous to
shew them, I took my bag upon my shoulder, and left the mosque,
uncertain where to find repose for my sick and wearied frame. For
a short time I wandered about the streets meditating on my forlorn
condition, and, oppressed by the recollection of the humiliations,
fatigues, and privations which I had already endured, and by
the chilling sense of those which I still experienced, I could
not altogether suppress my tears. Let me hope this weakness was
excusable in my disastrous situation: it was within sight of the
desired haven that I was most in danger of shipwreck. With a heart
sinking under these reflections, I sought shelter in the shop of a
dealer in vegetables, who, taking me at first for a Berber, would
not suffer my intrusion; when, however, I told him that I was an
Arab, he left me in tranquillity to pass the night on the ground.
Laying my head on the leather bag which contained my notes, I enjoyed
a short forgetfulness of misery, but was soon awakened by the cold,
and sleep solaced me no more during the night.
August the 15th, at six in the morning, hastily quitting this
inhospitable place, I resumed my journey towards Rabat on foot,
carrying my bag, and but scantily provided with food.
Beyond the town I passed some gardens, and several plots of well
cultivated hemp. I soon discovered that it would be impossible for
me to reach Rabat on foot, for my limbs had scarcely strength to
support me, and the pain which I felt in the spleen was aggravated by
fatigue. Resting therefore for a moment against a wall I considered
how I should proceed, and finally determined upon returning to
the town. Taking my purse out of my bag, and observing with sorrow
that its contents were much diminished, I was nevertheless under
the necessity of abstracting a few shillings from what remained,
proposing to change them on my return to Mequinaz, to procure me
a conveyance. Inadvertently I laid my knife and pocket-compass on
the ground beside me and forgot them. Much grieved by their loss,
I returned from the city to seek them, but unhappily in vain. As
I again approached the city I saw several Spaniards, who had been
shipwrecked on the coast, followed by a crowd of Moors, and escorted
by soldiers, armed with sticks for the purpose of preventing the
pressure of the crowd; they were being conducted to the Emperor,
and I remarked with pleasure that they were not ill-treated. A Jew,
who spoke the Spanish language acted as their interpreter. I followed
them a short distance, but, finding it impossible to penetrate to
them, returned towards the market, and seated myself at the door
of a Berber, who, perceiving that I was suffering pain, asked me
who I was and what ailed me: I told him my story, which, like all
his countrymen, he believed. Having imparted to him my intention
of hiring a conveyance to Rabat, in the hope of seeing the Emperor
and applying to him for assistance to enable me to return to my
own country, this good Berber induced me to place my bag in his
shop and promised himself to negociate with the muleteer for the
fulfilment of my wishes.
In the course of the day, I visited the fandacs, and there met
with a man from Tafilet, who proposed to me to hire an ass for my
conveyance to Rabat. I took him to the Berber, and, having agreed
upon the price, which was fixed at a piastre and three quarters,
I paid him the earnest; we were to set out the following day. In
the evening I bought some fruit and bread for my guide and myself.
On the 16th of August, at six in the morning, I mounted my ass,
not without the assistance of my guide, which on account of my
weakness I was unable to dispense with: we travelled due north for
about an hour, then turned N. W. till nine in the morning. The
route is interrupted by hills, and turns a little to the south.
About two o’clock we halted under the shade of a zizyphus lotus,
to repose during the extreme heat: at three we resumed our route
to the north, till half-past four, and then proceeded N. W. On the
road we met a traveller in the utmost distress on account of the
death of his horse, for, besides the inconvenience of prosecuting
his journey on foot, the poor man was compelled also to carry his
saddle to some inhabited place; my guide took pity upon him and
placed his saddle behind me, which suited me well, for I was so
weak that I could scarcely sit up, and this saddle made a convenient
support for my back.
At six in the evening, we reached a considerable brook, which runs
S. S. W., and afterwards west, and stopped to slake our thirst
at it. I had been suffering from fever nearly the whole day, and
the heat had been overpowering; I now lay down to take a short
repose. During this halt, the Moor, who was not the owner of the
horse he had lost, obtained from a sherif a certificate of its death:
the sherif, having interrogated me in common with the other witnesses
of the event, gave on our evidence the writing which testified that
the horse had died without any fault on the part of its rider.
At sun-set, after having eaten some figs given us by the Berbers,
we proceeded northwards till eight o’clock, when we reached a camp,
provided with a tent that served as a mosque, and was destined also
for the reception of travellers; we took up our quarters in it,
and the inhabitants of the camp brought us supper. This spot is
covered with prickly shrubs.
At two o’clock in the morning of the 17th, we quitted this
hospitable camp; for half an hour we were followed by a troop of
nearly thirty dogs, which barked incessantly, and even bit our
beasts. At five o’clock, turning to the N. W. we proceeded over
level ground covered with a fine vegetation. Towards eight in the
morning, we halted for an hour beside a well, where we breakfasted
upon fresh bread, and some water-melons which we had found in the
fields. After this rural repast we drank some pretty good water,
which we were able to take up by hand, the wells being shallow. We
continued our route to the N. W., and at eleven o’clock, the heat
being violent, again halted under a beautiful clump of fig-trees,
where several travellers were sleeping; we rested till noon, my
guide, who was sufficiently complaisant, having some consideration
for my illness. After this short repose we proceeded still towards
the N. W. till three P. M. when our direction turned E. S. E.; we
now journeyed over loose sand. At half-past two we stopped before
a camp of soldiers, who were on their march to rejoin the emperor;
they had pitched their tents near an arm of the sea, which my
guide told me was called Sbo.[22] To my great surprise tolerable
order was preserved in this camp: the centinels were placed at
equal distances from each other, but they slept the whole night;
the chiefs were lodged in handsome tents, having a centinel at
the door, and soldiers around them. The women of the neighbouring
districts supplied them with bread.
On the 18th, at three in the morning, we set forward, crossing the
camp, where the soldiers were still all asleep; but one, waking up
with a start, exclaimed: “Who goes there?” This did not however
interrupt our progress. Farther on we encountered the advanced
guard, also asleep, but our noise disturbed them, and waking up
they inquired who we were and whither we were going: upon receiving
our answer they permitted us to pass through the midst of them, for
there was no other road, and it was necessary to cross a bridge. We
proceeded by a fine road to the S. W.; the soil composed of grey
sand is naturally fertile. At eight in the morning we halted to
take a slight repast of bread and some nuts purchased at Mequinaz,
and ate it in peace beside a well. We continued our route to the S.
W. over a soil similar to that which I noticed over-night, and
arrived at an arm of the sea on the opposite shore of which Rabat is
situated; here I saw several Portuguese vessels. The vine flourishes
in the environs of this town, and the fields are well cultivated.
Upon entering Rabat, I proceeded with my guide to the fandac,
where I rested awhile and then set out to walk through the town
in hopes of finding the French consul, for I concluded that there
would be one here. I held some shillings in my hand, by means of
which I proposed without committing myself to find the consular
house. I begged several Moors to change them for me, knowing that
they would not (for they have little complaisance) but I foresaw that
they would refer me to a christian, to whom I hoped by this innocent
stratagem to be enabled to speak without exciting suspicion. In fact,
the first Moor whom I requested to change my shillings for the coin
of the country directed me to the christians; I took advantage of
this circumstance to inquire for the French consul, saying, that
the money was French, and he, having no suspicion of me, immediately
pointed out the consul’s residence. I knocked at the door, and was
thrilled with joy at the thought of being about to see a Frenchman.
A Jew, who spoke tolerable English, opened the door; he told me that
the consul was at this moment with the sultan, but that he would soon
return. I retired for a short time, and on my second application was
by the same Jew presented to the French consul at Rabat. Gracious
God! how was I disconcerted, when I found that he was himself a
Jew! I was so thunderstruck that I remained for a moment speechless;
meanwhile he addressed me in pretty good French, inquiring what I
wanted with him: recovering a little from my stupefying surprise,
I shewed him my shillings and begged him to change them; an English
merchant who chanced to be with him, and to whom I confided my
secret, assured me that I might safely communicate to the Jew
the true cause of my application to him. I then told the consular
agent that I wished to converse with him for a moment in private,
upon which he shewed me into his warehouse and seated me upon the
floor. There I informed him that I was a Frenchman, that I came
from the Soudan, and that, desiring to return to my own country, I
claimed the protection due to a subject of the King of France. The
Jew asked if I had any papers, and if I was travelling by order
of the government: having satisfied him on all these points, he
opened a French book of geography, and pointed out upon a map the
Senegal and other districts, no doubt to display his learning: he
then shewed a letter from M. Sourdeau, consul-general of the King of
France, announcing his nomination to the dignity of consular agent
at Rabat; but he gave me to understand that he received no pay,
and that in consequence I was not to expect much assistance from
him; then dismissing me, he recommended me strongly not to make
myself known if I valued my head; for, added he, the Moors are no
triflers on the subject of religion.
I then returned to the fandac, leaving with the consular agent
ten shillings, which he refused to change; he gave me however on
account, three dragmes (twenty four sous) for the supply of my most
urgent wants during the following days. I made my guide purchase a
piece of roasted mutton and two small loaves, which I divided with
him; resolving however that this should be my last repast in his
company: not that he had been deficient in complaisance to me, but,
convinced that I must be extremely desirous of an interview with
the sultan his master, he was perpetually endeavouring to pursuade
me to solicit one. I had exhausted all my pretences for delaying
this step; and had sufficient reason to beware of presenting myself
before the African monarch, who, more suspicious than his subjects,
would in all probability have proved more clear-sighted.
I quitted the fandac therefore, and passed the day at the corner of
a street; where I hoped to spend the night with equal tranquillity,
and lying down enveloped myself in my large wrapper. I was invoking
sleep, the friend of the unfortunate, when a dozen dogs began to
bark furiously at me, and I should certainly have fallen a prey to
these animals, had I not been promptly assisted by one of those men,
who are posted in the streets at night expressly to rescue passengers
from their attacks. This man inquired who I was; “I am an Arab,
a stranger here,” replied I, “on my return to Alexandria my
native country.” Upon this he placed me in a small recess near
which he slept himself; arming me with a strong bamboo cane to drive
away the dogs, if they should trouble me again; a very judicious
precaution, for these creatures, apparently conscious that I was a
stranger, never ceased throughout the night annoying me with their
menacing cries. I would gladly have slept at a fandac, but for the
expense of three paras per night, and the risk of insults from the
muleteers. Consulting my poverty, and uncertain when I should be
able to obtain assistance from the French Consul, I determined
to be as saving as possible and to sleep under the canopy of
heaven. Henceforth, I sought repose in a cemetery, situated to the
west of the town on the sea-shore, where, peacefully extended at the
foot of a mausoleum, I was neither tormented by men nor dogs. During
the day I remained at the corners of the streets, sometimes repairing
to the mosques to take my melancholy meals, consisting of a little
bread and a bunch of grapes, to which I occasionally ventured to add
from my scanty resources a small piece of fried fish. As the wells
of Rabat are brackish, I was obliged to beg water from the Moors who
seldom refused me. Such was the kind of life which I led, during the
whole of my residence at Rabat, while waiting for an opportunity to
proceed to Tangier to the French Consul. I now and then saw Ismael,
the Jew agent of the consulate, who gave me some small coins of
the country, on the security of the ten shillings with which I had
entrusted him. One day, finding him at home at breakfast, I was
invited to sit upon the floor and partake of his tea. I entreated
him to procure for me some means of travelling to Tangier; promising
to reimburse him as soon as I should reach the consul; but the Jew,
fearing no doubt that this would be disapproved by his superior,
drily refused. Seeing that nothing was to be gained from this man,
not even permission to embark on board a Portuguese brig, bound for
Gibraltar, I was about to write to M. Sourdeau, Consul-general at
Morocco, when Ismael received a letter from Tangier informing him
of this gentleman’s death; I therefore addressed myself to the
Vice-Consul M. Delaporte, on whom the direction of the consulate had
devolved; but an opportunity of going to Tangier occurring during
the interval, while I awaited his answer, I hired an ass to carry
me thither, for my legs would no longer support me.
On the 2nd of September, I quitted Rabat with the owner my ass, the
most worthless man I had met with in this country. The poor beast
destined to carry me, was already oppressed by a heavy burthen,
and sunk at every step up to his knees in the loose sand of the
sea-shore; I had therefore no alternative but to dismount, and though
I had paid a good price for my conveyance, and was scarcely able to
drag myself along, was obliged to perform half the journey on foot,
while my unworthy guide rode forward with the utmost indifference. On
reaching the place appointed for the halt, I threw myself down under
a tree, and wrapped up in my old blanket, suffered there a violent
attack of fever, produced by fatigue and exhaustion. Towards seven
in the evening, my guide brought me a handful of couscous, which
had been given him by some Arabs near whom we had encamped.
At Larache I saw two vessels cruising, and little thought that
one of them would shortly bear me from this frightful country. I
ascended with difficulty the hills in the vicinity of Tangier,
and at length, ill, and worn out with fatigue, I arrived in that
town on the 7th of September, at nightfall.
As I entered on foot the centinel took no notice of me, and I thus
fortunately escaped an explanation with the governor of the town,
which might have thrown some obstacles in the way of my departure,
or even have involved me in destruction. I deposited my bag at the
fandac, and the same evening explored the town in search of the
French Consulate. I saw many flag-staves, but could not for the
darkness distinguish that of my own nation. The moment was most
critical. I dared not to address myself to a Musulman, who would
infallibly have asked what concern I had with the christians:
and if my intentions had been discovered I should have lost all
hope of restoration to my country. I lay at the fandac, and passed
the night in extreme agitation. In the morning I again repaired to
the street where I had seen the flags, and perceived an open door,
near which stood a christian; looking carefully round, to ascertain
that I was not observed, I accosted him in English, inquiring for
the residence of the British Consul. “This is it,” replied he;
but, fearful of attracting notice, by conversing too long outside
the door, I would have entered the house, to ask a direction to
the French Consulate; but this man, who I supposed was a domestic,
repulsed me with horror, on account of my dirty and disfigured
appearance. I inquired for the residence of the French Consul,
and he bluntly answered, “He is dead,” but at the same time
called a Jew, who directed me to the door of the Vice-Consul, and
with an air of curiosity, asked who I was, and what I wanted with a
Christian; I retreated without answering, trembling with the dread of
detection. When all whose observation I had excited had passed on, I
returned to the Vice-Consul’s door, which, being opened, I entered
the house: a Jewess called M. Delaporte who received me with the
greatest kindness, and conducted me up stairs to an apartment where
I was entirely concealed from view. I comprehended the full extent
of the danger which surrounded me, from the fear which M. Delaporte
expressed of the difficulties which must embarrass my departure from
this country; but, speedily laying aside any uneasiness relative to
my present situation, he gave free vent to the joy with which my
almost miraculous escape from the dangers of so arduous a journey
inspired him, and in his transports even embraced me, pressing
me closely to his arms, notwithstanding the dirty rags in which
I was clad: I cannot indeed speak too warmly of the benevolent
reception which I experienced from this generous man. After enjoying
a breakfast from his hospitality I found myself, with great regret,
obliged to depart, though we had not yet determined on any means for
rescuing me from my present embarrassing situation. No sooner had
I set foot in the street than I most inconveniently encountered my
muleteer, who, seeing me come out of a house, inquired where I had
been; at first I felt a little confused, but quickly recovering I
told him that a charitable priest had given me a breakfast in that
house. I returned to the fandac, and did not leave it again that
day, apprehensive of exciting attention, as those by whom I had
been seen had inquired whether I was a renegado.
I passed the night in contriving means to obtain another interview
with the Vice-Consul In the morning the master of the fandac came
to demand three felusses for my night’s lodging in his stable,
and then, pushing me by the shoulders, sent me to return thanks to
God and the Prophet.
At nightfall I again presented myself at M. Delaporte’s house:
as I was entering, the female servant, not recognizing me, ran back
uttering a loud cry; this brought from the street the Vice-Consul’s
guard who, precipitately entering the house, put his hand upon my
shoulder, and demanded who I was, and what I wanted. I was completely
disconcerted,. M. Delaporte, being brought down by the noise, knew
me, but affected great anger, and spoke very harshly to prevent
suspicion. “Turn out this dog of a beggar,” said he, “what
can he want here? begone!” The soldier still asking what I wanted,
I examined the house as though in doubt; and saying, “What! does
not Sidi-Mohammed reside here? I fear I have made a mistake,” I
retired; the soldier following me a short distance, but by favour
of the night I easily escaped him. On my return to the fandac I
threw myself upon the ground, to recover from the emotion which
this untoward accident had occasioned. After an hour’s repose,
I again repaired to the street where M. Delaporte resided, hoping
that he would send some one to me with a message of encouragement;
but I saw no one. I passed another agitated night, sleeping little;
and at day-break took my station in front of the Vice-Consul’s
house to seek a decisive interview with him, the suspense in which
I continued having become insupportable. I seated myself at the
door of a poor shoemaker, to watch the moment when I might enter
the house without observation. The Jewish maid servant, who had
been so unfortunately alarmed the preceding evening, recognized
me: and, having given notice to M. Delaporte, made me a sign to
come in. The Vice-Consul obligingly expressed his regret for the
unpleasant scene of the preceding evening; he did not dissemble
his apprehensions for me, in case I continued long in my present
situation, but could devise no means for my escape; I was still more
perplexed, as without his assistance I should find it impossible to
quit the country. Seeing me resolved to extricate myself as speedily
as possible from this state of distress and anxiety, M. Delaporte
fixed an hour of the night for my return to the consulate, to quit
it no more till I should be enabled to embark for Europe. I spent the
remainder of the day at the fandac, and that my sudden disappearance
might occasion no surprise amongst its inmates, I apprised them
that I intended to proceed to Taone on my route to Algiers. When
it was quite dark, I rolled my bag in my wrapper to screen it from
observation, and repaired to the appointed spot, where I immediately
saw M. Delaporte and a Jew, who came to conduct me to my destined
asylum. I was admitted to the Consular residence by a back door,
and led to a good chamber, where M. Delaporte presently sent me a
European dress, for which I gladly exchanged the dirty rags I had
so long worn: he then visited me in my new apartment, and expressed
the greatest satisfaction at seeing me in a place of safety.
After returning thanks to Almighty God, I lay down upon a good
bed, rejoicing in my escape from the society of men debased by
ignorance and fanaticism. Though all my wants were relieved, I
found it impossible to close my eyes the whole night, so much was
I agitated by the remembrance of the perils I had passed through.
During my whole residence at the Consulate, M. Delaporte came many
times each day to see and converse with me; he treated me as his own
son, and indeed lavished on me all the cares of the tenderest father.
It would be difficult to describe my sensations on casting off for
ever my Arab costume; I retraced in my memory all the privations
and fatigues I had endured, and the length of route I had traversed
in a wild country, amidst a thousand dangers. I blessed God for
my arrival in port; but I believed myself in a dream, and asked
if it was indeed true that I might soon be restored to my country,
or whether this enchanting hope was but a delusion.
M. Delaporte neglected nothing that could contribute to
the re-establishment of my impaired health, and the wholesome
nourishment he gave me effected a decided improvement; but I was
still frequently attacked by paroxysms of fever which kept me in a
state of extreme weakness. During my abode in the consulate I was
occupied in arranging my notes.
Besides the frequent and agreeable visits of the Vice-Consul,
I received also those of a Jew domestic to whom the secret of my
seclusion was confided: this man, though a Frenchman, was thoroughly
imbued with the principles of his race and had no ideas but for the
advancement of his interests. He undoubtedly believed that my views
were the same, and advised me to carry the fruits of my travels to
England; representing to me that this nation had offered a reward
of twenty-five thousand pounds sterling for the accomplishment of
the journey to Timbuctoo. Instead of listening to so contemptible
a proposition, I replied, that I was a Frenchman, and added:
“The recompence to be derived from the French government would
undoubtedly be less considerable; but I should not hesitate a single
moment to offer to my native country and my king the homage of my
modest labours.”
The excellent M. Delaporte wrote very pressingly to the commander
of the French station off Cadiz, describing in lively colours
the dangers to which I was exposed by a longer residence in this
place. The commander, determined by his solicitations, sent one of
the king’s sloops to Tangier to convey me to Toulon.
On the 27th of September 1828, a little before sunset, a sailor’s
dress was sent me as a more convenient disguise. A Moor inquired who
I was, saying that he had not seen me disembark with the others; the
Jew, who attended me, answered that I was a Frenchman from Tetuan,
returning to France, and the Moor made no farther remark. I embarked
on board the sloop _La Légère_, suffering much from fever, and
the Commander Jolivet supplied me with every thing necessary in
my situation.
On the 28th, at six in the morning, we set sail with a fair
wind, and to my great satisfaction soon lost sight of Tangier. M.
Jolivet’s cares had a beneficial effect upon my health; the fever
left me, and the fine sea-breezes soon completed my recovery. We
arrived at Toulon after a very favourable voyage of ten days.
Those who have been long absent from their native land, and have
good cause to fear that they may never return, can alone form an idea
of my sensations on my restoration to my beloved country. While in
quarantine I wrote to M. Jomard, President of the central commission
of the Geographical Society, to announce my travels to him. I soon
after received, as the first proof of the benevolent interest of this
learned association, the sum of five hundred francs, to defray the
expenses of my journey to Paris: nor was it long before I enjoyed the
glorious reward of its merited approbation. The society applauded
my zeal, and awarded to me the recompense promised to the first
traveller who should penetrate to the mysterious town of Timbuctoo,
and bring from thence his authentic observations. The government
graciously received the Society’s report upon my travels, and
soon bestowed upon me distinguished marks of its munificence and
honourable protection.
But this flattering success raised adversaries against me: some
alleged that I had never reached Timbuctoo; others, that I had been
shipwrecked on the coast of Barbary, and, having obtained possession
of some vague intelligence respecting the interior of the country,
had imposed it upon the public for the results of my personal
observations. I have been even accused of changing my religion
_at every station_. To this malevolent imputation, I answer:
that I externally adopted the forms of the Mahometan worship as
the only means of penetrating into the countries through which I
have travelled—an achievement which, without this acquiescence,
would have been impracticable, except by encountering at every step
the hazard of death, and inevitably suffering it at last. I must
confess that these unjust attacks have affected me more sensibly
than all the hardships, fatigues, and privations, which I have
encountered in the interior of Africa.
GEOGRAPHICAL
REMARKS AND INQUIRIES
CONCERNING
THE TRAVELS OF M. CAILLIÉ,
IN CENTRAL AFRICA,
BY M. JOMARD, MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE;
COMPRISING AN ANALYSIS OF THE MAP OF THE ROUTE AND THE GENERAL
MAP OF THE TRAVELS, DRAWN UP BY THE SAME; FOLLOWED BY VOCABULARIES
COLLECTED BY M. CAILLlÉ, HIS ITINERARY DAY BY DAY, EXPLANATIONS
OF THE PLATES, AND NOTES ON SEVERAL POINTS OF NATURAL HISTORY AND
GEOGRAPHY; CONCLUDING WITH DOCUMENTS AND OTHER PAPERS.
GEOGRAPHICAL REMARKS AND INQUIRIES
CONCERNING
THE TRAVELS OF M. CAILLIÉ,
IN CENTRAL AFRICA,
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
§ I.
GENERAL RETROSPECT OF THE PUBLISHED INFORMATION ON THIS SUBJECT
PRIOR TO M. CAILLIÉ’S TRAVELS.
A powerful interest is attached to travels in central Africa: any
attempt, therefore, to explore this part of the world can scarcely
fail to excite curiosity, provided, at least, that it makes some
addition to the knowledge previously acquired and supplies one of
the deficiencies of geographical science; that is to say, if it
furnishes authentic documents concerning the respective situations
of places, their topographical positions, and relative distances;
concerning the natural productions and physical geography of the
country; the population, commerce, interior navigation, industry, and
agriculture; the manners, customs, religious worship, superstitions,
and language of the people, or the physical conformation of the
inhabitants; in short, provided it is calculated to interest the
geographer or the naturalist, the historian or the person engaged
in commerce and manufactures. The merit and usefulness, indeed,
of a narrative of travels consists in these positive results. The
attentive reader will discover in the simple journal before him
more than one such result, especially in matters of geography, the
nomenclature and position of places, the course and importance of
rivers, the situation of mountains, and generally speaking, every
thing relating to the accidents of the soil. The various tribes,
also, visited by M. Caillié, and in the midst of which he lived,
presented so many subjects of observation that it was impossible
he should not attempt, at least, to sketch their portraits. To the
well-informed public it belongs to appreciate whatever is new and
interesting in this simple and inartificial picture of nations and
tribes scarcely known in Europe, even by name. I must not, however,
rest here, but will turn my undivided attention in the first place
to examining and discussing all the points of geography connected
with M. Caillié’s route. Before I proceed, to this discussion,
for which I shall need all the indulgence of the reader, I shall take
leave to cast a glance upon the explorers who preceded him, and the
information we possessed anterior to his travels. Notwithstanding
the advantage which M. Caillié has over all his predecessors, in
having brought to Europe a description of the city of Timbuctoo,
written on the spot, several motives induce me to recapitulate here
the prior attempts which have been made by others, each of which
enterprises has formed an additional step in the career which he
alone has been enabled to pursue to its accomplishment. After this
examination of the discoveries and relations of preceding travellers,
I shall analyse the map of the route annexed to this work. It has
been constructed from the materials furnished in minute detail
by the journal of the French traveller, and which also form the
basis of the general map of the journey. I shall then treat of
the nomenclature of the countries through which he has travelled,
of the course of the great river, which, like Mungo Park, he has
navigated, and of the acquisitions for which science is indebted
to him, without neglecting the questions connected with the theatre
of his discoveries.
Whoever studies the history of the discoveries in the interior
of Africa is obliged to go back to the learned cosmographer
el-Edricy, who may be styled the Prince of Arabian geography. Till
now, an extract only of his description has been known, but a
learned oriental scholar[23] has just discovered a much more
complete manuscript than that which was translated into Latin
at the commencement of the 16th century, and which the learned
Hartmann has commented upon. While waiting for the benefit of the
translation preparing by M. Amédée Jaubert, I shall quote from
the Latin version[24] the description of the countries which M.
Caillié has visited, but which form only a very small portion
of the theatre of his peregrinations. According to el-Edricy,
Segelmassa or Sidjilmessa, a town in the country of Tafilet, is
forty days’ journey from the Soudan, that is to say, from the
inhabited districts and fertile soil of this immense region; it
is also computed to be forty days’ journey to Tocrur or Takrour,
to Salla or Sala, and to Ouhl. Sala is on the northern and Takrour
on the southern bank of a river called Nile. Sala is two days’
journey from Takrour whether by land or water.
The place named Oulil, described as an island properly so called,
is the great mart for salt in those parts, and is situated sixteen
days’ journey from Sala. Eastward of Takrour are several large
towns; Ghana, at a distance of twenty four days, and Berissa of
twelve; from the latter Aoudeghest[25] is twelve days’ journey
towards the north and the district of Lamlem six to the south;
this contains Wangara, Maleb, and Dau, four days’ journey from
each other; to the west is Meczara, to the east, Vancara, to the
north Ghana, and a desert to the south.
Many of these statements agree sufficiently with M. Caillié’s
marches across the desert; I can here only slightly mention this
conformity, because it would be necessary otherwise to enter into
details on the extent of a day’s journey and on the different
kinds of days’ journeys; an important question which shall be
discussed elsewhere. Takrour corresponds perhaps with the locality
which has since become the seat of Timbuctoo[26]: the importance
of this ancient town is proved by the name of Takrour, then given
to the whole of the Soudan, and applied to it by the natives even
to the present time. Sala is a point known to M. Caillié, but to
the right of the route from Timbuctoo to Tafilet, and not to the
west of Timbuctoo; and it must not be confounded with Ain-Salak,
the oasis of Agably.
May not the Oulil of el-Edricy, so long sought, be an island in the
sense understood by the word oasis, as surrounded on all sides by an
ocean of sand? this place would then correspond well with Tychyt,
celebrated for its salt-mines; it is true however that the Arabian
geographer seems to place Oulil upon the sea itself.[27]
With respect to Ghana, which is thought to answer to Kano, visited
by the last English travellers, its position in el-Edricy appears
too much towards the west; unless these travellers (as has been
already suspected) have placed Kano and other points of the Soudan
between Bornou and Saccatoo, too far to the east.
Above two centuries before el-Edricy, Ebn-Haukal, another not
less esteemed Arabian writer, had fixed the relative positions
of Sidjilmassa, Oulil, and Ghana; these equally agree with
the itinerary of our traveller; every well informed reader will
inquire whether the same agreement exists with the marches of the
celebrated Ben-Batouta. His travels are known by the fragments
which Messrs. Kosegarten and Burckhardt have translated from the
extract given by el-Bilouni.[28]
It is known that, in 1352, Ben-Batouta quitted Sidjilmessa for
Timbuctoo and central Africa: in twenty-five days he reached the
salt mines of Teghazza;[29] ten days afterwards, Tas-hal; ten or
twelve days farther on Aboulaten (Ejulat or Eiwelaten);[30] beyond
that, Maly, at a distance of twenty-four days; from Maly to Zaghary
(or Sagher), ten days; and thence to Karsendjou (or Karseckou).
This place is washed by the great river, _which is the Nile_,
and runs to Kabera and Zaghah (or Sagha); from Zaghah, the Nile
flows towards Timbuctoo, Koukou (Kok), Mouly the last place of
the country of Maly and Bowy (or Youy), one of the largest towns
of the Soudan. Thence the Nile descends to the country of Nouba
and passes Dongolah. From Karsendjou, Ben-Batouta proceeded to
the river of Sansarah, ten miles from Maly, which he left after a
residence of two months; some days afterwards he reached Timbuctoo
_on the Nile_, Koukou, Berdammah, and Takadda (or Nekda). On his
return to Sidjilmessa, he visited Touat, Kahor, Dekha, and Bouda;
a journey of more than twenty-eight days or stages.
The obscurity of this recital must be confessed: it arises chiefly
from the different ways of reading proper names, in supplying the
orthographical signs often wanting in manuscripts. Thus Burckhardt
has read تغاري Tegherry, the same name which Kosegarten had
read تغازا Taghazza, which would bring the traveller into the
country of Fez very far from the Sahara. Tas-hala, a commercial
town is perhaps Tychyt: Aboulaten ابولاتن is confounded with
Eyoulaten ايولاتن or Oualet. Maly or Mala ماي is perhaps
Sala سالي, Nekda نكدا for Tagada تكدا &c.
The places in the neighbourhood of Timbuctoo, according to
Ben-Batouta, are Kabera and Zaghah. We still know Cabra, and the
second of these names reminds us of the Meczara of el-Edricy, and
the Mar-Zaghah or Marzarah of other accounts. Thus the distance
of the places with which M. Caillié became acquainted, and which
in consequence I have placed upon the general map of the Travels,
Tychyt, Oualet, Sala, Cabra, and Timbuctoo, would nearly agree with
the description of Ben-Batouta: I say nothing here respecting the
direction of the rivers.
Few itinerary distances are to be found in the relations compiled
from the discoveries of the Portuguese on this coast of Africa. They
have carefully concealed the positive documents which they may have
collected, lest the other nations of Europe should rival them in
their commerce. We read in the Decades of Barros that they had much
intercourse with the two kingdoms of Toucourof and Timbuctoo. It
is not demonstrated that the first of these names is identical with
Takrour,[31] and consequently this passage will not prove that the
countries of Takrour and Timbuctoo are distinct.
In the time of Leo Africanus, who travelled in the early part of
the sixteenth century, the prosperity of Timbuctoo had declined in
favour of the town of Djenné, which is still, by the report of M.
Caillié, more considerable and commercial than the former city.
According to Leo, the river which runs near Timbuctoo takes a
westerly direction. “We navigated,” says he, “coming from the
kingdom of Tombuto, _to the east_, and following the course of the
stream, towards the kingdom of Ghinea, and as far as the kingdom of
Melli, which are both to the west of Tombo.” This assertion is not
confirmed by the French traveller. Even if we suppose that one of the
two branches, which he saw near that city was a tributary, and not
a derivative branch, and that he had not perceived the distinction,
(which must appear very extraordinary), this hypothesis would be
contradicted, since it was reported to him by the inhabitants that
this arm rejoined the principal stream at some distance.
With the exception of Leo, (who was a Moor born at Grenada), and
the Portuguese, concerning whom we have but uncertain accounts,
transmitted by Marmol and Barros, the first European who reached
Timbuctoo was Francis Paul Imbert, born at Sables-d’Olonne, in
the native province of Réné Caillié; his journey was anterior
to the year 1670. He accompanied his master, a Portuguese renegado,
sent to Timbuctoo by the governor of Tafilet. From the little that
is known of his travels, we learn that the distance from Morocco to
Timbuctoo is four hundred leagues, and that it is considered a two
months’ journey. This route was nearly the same as that followed by
M. Caillié, at least as far as Tafilet: the time also is the same.
Again, the calculation of four hundred leagues agrees very well
with that of M. Caillié. Three other routes have been attempted by
Europeans for penetrating to the centre of Northern Africa; that of
the Senegambia, that of Tripoli, and that of Egypt and the Upper
Nile. The first is certainly the shortest; the second is full of
obstacles; and the last, though the longest, will probably be one day
preferred by the intelligent traveller, as the most instructive, the
most fruitful in discoveries, and for other reasons. I say nothing
of a fourth course, that of the Gulph of Benin, which at this time
engages the attention of England, but which, notwithstanding the
numerous rivers terminating in that part, seems to offer very little
prospect of success. To penetrate into the interior by the Rivers of
Senegal, Gambia, or Sierra-Leone, was the most natural enterprize,
not only on account of the proximity, but also with a view to the
necessity of tracing to its source that vast stream which runs near
Timbuctoo: a question of no less importance than the problem of
the sources of the Nile, and, which is become almost as celebrated
with the moderns, as the other was amongst the ancients. It is also
observable that of forty-two European travellers, twenty-two are
supposed to have taken this route, independently of six Europeans
shipwrecked on that coast, carried into the interior by the Moors,
and who have collected information respecting either Timbuctoo
or other central countries. These travellers not having for the
most part pursued the same track with M. Caillié, and an abridged
history of their discoveries having been already compiled by M.
Walckenaer and other learned geographers, I consider it altogether
superfluous to review them. The reader will have double cause to
rejoice in the curtailment of these observations, and in being at
the same time directed to such excellent sources of information. I
shall only state from these various authorities, the epoch and
extent of the principal journeys, succinctly analyzing those which
present a line of route crossed by that of M. Caillié, or which
have something in common with it. The reader will thus have before
him a striking picture of the several efforts made, with admirable
perseverance, by Europeans, during the last two centuries and a half.
In 1588, Thompson reached Tenda by the Gambia
1620, Robert Jobson — idem. — idem.
1670, Paul Imbert — Timbuctoo — Morocco
1698, De Brué — Galam — Saint-Louis
1715, Compagnon — Bambouk — idem.
1723, Stibbs — „ — Gambia
1731, Moore — Bambouk — the Gambia
1742, De Flandre — „ — Saint-Louis
1749, Adanson — „ — idem.
1784, Follier — „ — Coasts of Nun.
1785, Sanguier — „ — idem.
1785, Brisson — „ — idem.
1786, Ruband — Galam — Saint-Louis
1787, Picard — Fouta-Toro — idem.
1791, Houghton — L-Oud-Amar — Gambia
1792, Browne — Darfour — Egypt
1794, {Watt} — Timbo — Rio-Nuñez
{Winterbottom}
1795, Mungo Park — {Silla on the} — Gambia
{Dhioliba}
1798, Hornemann — Nyffé — Egypt
1805, Mungo Park — Boussa — Gambia
1809, Roentgen — „ — Magador
{the western
1810, Robert Adams — Timbuctoo — {coast of
{Africa
1815, Riley — „ — idem.
1817, Peddie — Kakondy — Rio-Nuñez
— Campbell — Pandjicotte — idem.
— Badia — „ — Egypt
1818, Mollien — Timbo — Saint-Louis
1818,} Gray — Fouladou — Gambia
1819,}
— Dochard — Yamina — idem.
— Bowdich — Coumassie — Gold Coast
— Ritchie — Fezzan — Tripoli
— Lyon — „ — idem.
1820, Cochelet — Ouad-Noun — {west coast
{of Africa
1822, Laing — Falaba — Sierra-Leone
1823, {Oudney} — {Mandara} — Tripoli
{Denham} {Saccatoo}
{Clapperton}
1827, {Clapperton} — Saccatoo — Gulph of Benin
{Lander}
1827, Laing — Timbuctoo — Tripoli
1827,} Réné Caillié — {Timé} — Senegambia
1828,} {Jenné}
{Timbuctoo}
To this list may be added Ledyard and Lucas, in 1788, Nicholls,
in 1805, Seetzen and Tuckey, in 1816, and P. Rouzée, in 1817,
who took different routes, and did not succeed in penetrating into
the interior.
Twenty-five Englishmen figure in this list, with fourteen Frenchmen,
two Americans, and one German: but there are few of them, alas! since
Major Houghton, who have not fallen victims to their heroic devotion,
in the midst of their career.
Before setting out on his great journey M. Caillié had visited
the interior of the deserts frequented by the Brakna and Dowich
Moors; he had also accompanied M. Adrien Partarrieu, attached to
the expedition of Major Gray.
He then followed or traversed the route of Major Houghton,
going to the Ludamar of Mungo Park, (or rather the country of
Eli-Oud-Amar[32]) and those of Major Gray and Surgeon Dochard, the
one to Falimé, the other to Yamina. But, as he kept no regular
notes of his peregrinations in this portion of Africa, I have no
means of comparing them with those of the three former travellers.
It is otherwise with the routes of Watt and Winterbottom, who
in 1794 arrived at Timbo and Labé by the Rio-Nuñez; there they
learnt that a four months’ journey would lead them to Timbuctoo,
by way of Belia, Bouria, Manda, Sego, Sousundou and Genati[33].
On examining the general map of M. Caillié’s travels Baleya,
Bourré, Amana, Sego, Sansanding and Djenné, names very little
differing from the former, will actually be found, in a line,
not indeed perfectly direct, from Labé to Timbuctoo. With regard
to the four months’ distance, it is worthy of remark that
M. Caillié was a hundred and seven days proceeding from Teleouel
(nearly opposite to Labé) to Timbuctoo, following a rather more
easterly course. In several other particulars the narratives of
the two English travellers are in accordance with the observations
of M. Caillié, such as the traffic in salt, and its being carried
on men’s shoulders, the position of Labé and Timbo with respect
to Kakondy,[34] the state of agriculture, and the manners of the
Foulahs.
The first journey of Mungo Park, in 1795, conducted him to Sego on
the Dhioliba, and thence to Silla: these two places were left to the
west of M. Caillié’s route, as may be seen on the general map.
The only doubtful question respecting the line between them arises
from the considerable difference that exists as to the distance of
that line from the ocean: but this question is very comprehensive,
and embraces too many different points to be examined here. It may,
however, be observed that the population assigned by Mr. Park to Sego
(thirty thousand) appears somewhat large as compared with that of
Jenné, Timbuctoo, and other towns visited by M. Caillié.
In his second journey, in 1805, Mungo Park reached the river at
Bamakou; at Sansanding he embarked upon it, in a canoe constructed
under his direction, and followed it to Cabra, Houssa, and Boussa.
Thus, from the branch which runs into it below Jenné to Cabra,
the two travellers followed the same route, and navigated the same
stream. Unfortunately Park’s narrative breaks off at Sansanding, on
the 10th of November, at the moment of his leaving that town. There
is however, a last piece of authentic information on the 19th of
November; this is a note addressed by Mungo Park to his wife. It
is known that the bark which he contrived for descending the river
was a sort of raft or flat boat, formed of two old canoes.
It cannot easily be credited that the traveller advanced upon the
river at the rate of six or seven miles an hour as his journal
indicates: it has been seen that the direct progress of M. Caillié
on the Dhioliba was scarcely more than two miles an hour; in a
different season it is true, and at low water. Mungo Park, according
to his guide, perished at Boussa, four months after his departure
from Sansanding, which account, unless erroneous would infer a
stay either at Timbuctoo, Houssa, or Yaour.[35] It is not possible
here to institute any comparison between the two narratives, and I
think it superfluous to seek other points of resemblance; I confine
myself therefore to the observation, that the map of Park’s
second journey aggravates the error committed in the first map,
in placing the course of the Dhioliba too far eastward of the city
of Timbuctoo.[36] It is not consistent with my subject to enter
into further particulars concerning that unfortunate expedition,
with the commencement and issue of which every one is acquainted;
but of the most essential points of which all are equally ignorant,
namely the navigation of the river above and below Timbuctoo, and
all those observations that were undoubtedly made and written by
the celebrated traveller on papers, that there is yet some hope
of discovering.
Chronological order obliges me to pass from such a man as Mungo Park
to the American sailor Robert Adams.[37] Notwithstanding the efforts
of M. Dupuis, editor of Adams’s narrative, and the real merit of
the notes appended to it by that learned writer, the general opinion
of geographers is opposed to the authenticity of these travels;
and it is a remarkable fact, that it is least credited in his own
country. Critical observations on this subject have appeared in
the North American Review, from which we are compelled to conclude
that the original declaration made at Cadiz by Adams before the
American consul, totally differs from his recital, made in London,
to M. Dupuis. I am far from believing in the reality of Adams’s
travels in all their circumstances as described; but a comparison
of them with those of M. Caillié belongs to my subject. Robert
Adams was wrecked on the coast of Cape Blanco, and was carried to
Timbuctoo, where he says he remained five months.[38] He afterwards
returned through Toudeyni, Oulad-Deleym, el-Thabla, Ouad-Noun,
Mogador, Fez, Mequinaz, and Tangier. Even in his description of
Timbuctoo, a striking contradiction occurs. “The city,” he says,
“is in a very level plain;” and yet two miles beyond the city,
runs the river Marzarah, between two rather high mountains. This
river flows to the south west, and is three quarters of a mile
wide. He repeats elsewhere that there are mountains to the south
of Timbuctoo, and says that sulphur is found there. None of these
circumstances have been noticed by M. Caillié, who walked from
Cabra to Timbuctoo, and who in thirteen days had abundant leisure
to observe them. The city appeared to Adams as extensive, without
being as populous, as Lisbon; but between two hundred and sixty
thousand inhabitants and ten or twelve thousand there is a great
difference. There are no mosques, says he, in Timbuctoo; M. Caillié
saw three large and several smaller ones.[39]
Adams asserts that he saw a palace built of clay mixed with herbage,
and other houses of wood or earth: the greater part of the houses,
according to M. Caillié are of brick, and the king’s palace[40]
is nothing more than a small and extremely simple house.
Adams asserts that _the men are tattooed_; M. Caillié says
nothing of the existence of such a custom at Timbuctoo: that
_there is not a man capable of writing_; the new account frequently
affirms the contrary: that _many elephants are to be seen there_;
M. Caillié scarcely saw traces of one during the whole course of
his travels. Nevertheless these differences which may be partly
attributed to his ignorance, as well as to a want of memory, are
not sufficient motives for absolutely denying the journey of Adams,
or rejecting all the information which he procured. The same may be
said of the words of the language spoken at Timbuctoo, which Robert
Adams has given to the number of sixteen, eight of which are common
to the Kissour vocabulary of M. Caillié,[41] but totally differing
from them.
Was it easy, in a country where so many different languages and
dialects are spoken, to ascertain the genuine words of the Timbuctoo
idiom? The words published by well informed travellers, such as
Lyon, Bowdich and others, do not agree better with those collected
by M. Caillié. If Adams really visited Timbuctoo, it is possible
that he may have interrogated strangers instead of natives.[42]
Major Denham alone till the present day has learnt the true words of
this language. Other features again of Adams’s descriptions are
confirmed by certain Arabian travellers and geographers, even what
he says of the river flowing in the neighbourhood of Timbuctoo. Yet,
supposing him to have seen the river, which is to the south, may
he not have been mistaken as to the direction of the stream? May
it not be the second branch of the river, which M. Caillié saw
at Cabra, and which at first runs towards the north-east? It does
not however run two miles south of Timbuctoo, but five miles. The
river, he says, is called Marzarah: and this name though unknown to
M. Caillié, yet exists; and is the name also of a district cited
above, after el-Edricy.[43]
Robert Adams is not incorrect in his journeys beyond Timbuctoo: 1st
from this city towards the E. N. E., as far as the river mentioned
above, where he arrives after ten days’ journey; 2ndly from
this point to Toudeyni, twelve or thirteen days’ journey N. N.
W. These distances and bearings agree tolerably well with M.
Caillié’s route from Timbuctoo to Telig.
Riley, the American, also wrecked on the west coast of Africa,
and detained in slavery by the Moorish Chief Sidi-Hamet, gathered
from the latter some correct notions relating to the city of
Timbuctoo. According to him _a small river_ (it was then dry) runs
near the walls of Timbuctoo, and a large river flows to the east at
an hour’s distance _on horseback_. This is undoubtedly the same
with that of which he elsewhere speaks as the Zolibib, which is
two hours’ march to the south. The city is five times as large
as Soueyrah, situated in a vast plain, and built of stone, earth,
and reeds. On leaving Timbuctoo, Sidi-Hamet travelled fifty-five
days towards the N. E., and eighteen to the north, before he arrived
at Touat, and afterwards he proceeded to Fez. M. Caillié did not
perceive the little river close under the walls of Timbuctoo; but
what is said by Riley shews that it might be dried up. The great
river at two hours’ distance to the south, is evidently the Cabra
branch, flowing between the east and north. The word Zolibib is
unquestionably the same as Dhioliba. The situation of the oasis of
Agably (or of Touat), is not consistent with the data by which I
was guided in drawing up the general map, namely the astronomical
observations made by Major Laing at Ain-salah.[44]
We have seen above that Major Peddie and Captain Campbell took the
way of the Rio-Nuñez, to penetrate into the interior: the second
alone was able to advance to within a short distance of Timbo; but he
could not reach that place. Both swelled the list of victims to the
climate and martyrs of science. Captain Campbell, and M. Caillié,
as well as Watt and Winterbottom, travelled in nearly parallel lines:
their accounts, far from contradicting, mutually confirm each other;
but the marches of the French traveller present a multitude of
instructive details, and local circumstances which the others had
not the opportunity of observing. The rivers and rivulets crossed
by these travellers, some of which flow northwards and fall into
the Rio-Nuñez, and others south towards the district of Sousou,
are distinguished. By combining the observations of all the four
a complete idea may be formed of the tract which separates Kakondy
from the Fouta-Dhialon and the mountains of Timbo.[45]
We are indebted to the expedition of M. Mollien for some interesting
particulars of the unknown parts of the Senegambia, and of the plain
of the Fouta-Dhialon. Nothing was wanting to this expedition of
discovery but mathematical observations, which it would be unjust
to require from him who traverses, for the first time, unknown
countries, inhabited by a fanatical population. Geography is a
great gainer when it can obtain any positive information, either
respecting the lines travelled over, with their bearings, or the
relative situation of places, and their nomenclature; or even a view
of the importance and population of the country, and the state of
agriculture, commerce and industry. A learned geographer, M. Eyriés,
has shewn the merit of M. Mollien’s travels, and the acquisitions
for which science is indebted to him; it only remains therefore,
for me to notice that part of his journey, which coincides with that
of M. Caillié. Both crossed the Fouta-Dhialon, but in different
directions. The first went from Labé to Timbo; the second passed
between those two towns. Their lines of route intersected each
other at a point nearer to Timbo than to Labé, but where there is
no village; at least the list given by M. Mollien does not present,
at the point of meeting which results from the construction of the
two routes, any name in common with the much more extended list
of M. Caillié. But the latter, in giving the position of Labé
with regard to Teleouel, and that of Timbo with regard to Dité,
will be found to agree with the itinerary of M. Mollien. In the
list of the latter, we find indeed Cambaya and Bandeia; but Bandeia,
placed far north of Labé, is a totally different place from Bandeya,
which is south west of it. The same may be observed of Cambaya to
the north and near Labé, while the Cambaya of M. Caillié lies
south-east of that place, and at a considerable distance. The
description of the mountains, the cataracts or falls of rivers,
the physical aspect of places amid those lofty mountains, (which in
some respects may be called the _Central Alps_ of Northern Africa),
are features common to both narratives.[46] This spot, as will be
seen farther on, is a line of division between immense streams which
flow from it in every direction. There is no less analogy between
the observations of the two travellers respecting the Foulahs, the
Mandingoes, and the various tribes inhabiting those countries.[47]
I now come to a traveller whose recent loss is regretted throughout
Europe, the unfortunate Major Laing. A first journey made him
advantageously known to the friends of science; a second rendered
him illustrious; and both are more closely connected with that of
M. Caillié than all the expeditions I have just reviewed. It is
fortunate for the French traveller, that he has these points of
contact with Major Laing, especially since their discoveries upon
comparison appear in perfect accordance. No one is ignorant that,
in 1822, Major Laing, after having explored the Timmanie, the
Kouranko, and the Soulimana, determined the situation of Timbo and
Falaba, the sources of the Mongo and the Rokelle, and penetrated
nearly to the source of the Dhioliba, or at least but a short
distance from that point so long sought after. He assigned the
position and elevation above the level of the sea of Mount Loma,
whence this great river takes its rise; and he marked on his map
the first part of its course northwards, to the extent of about
twenty-five leagues. Amongst these observations are two which
serve to verify those of the French traveller: the situation of
Timbo and that of the Dhioliba. Now this confirmation, as a single
glance at the general map of the travels will shew, leaves nothing
to be desired. I placed Timbo there from the documents of the
Major, and M. Caillié’s route perfectly coincides. The French
traveller met with the Dhioliba, for the first time, at Couroussa,
and observed its course. This point and this course, from the mere
construction of the new map of the route, are found to continue
that traced by the English traveller. At the point of meeting, there
appears to be a very small interval left, and I have therefore had
no difficulty in supplying this hiatus. Henceforward our knowledge
of the thirty-five or forty first leagues of the course of this
great river may be considered as perfectly established.
The second expedition of Major Laing, as all the world knows,
had for its object the city of Timbuctoo, which he endeavoured
to reach by way of Tripoli, not across the Bornou, like his
immediate predecessors, but by the direct route of the oasis of
Agably. The work, which, in the course of this paper, I have had
frequent occasion to quote, has made the reader acquainted with
_l’Itinéraire de Tripoli, de Barbarie à la ville de Temboctou_,
by the sheik Hagg-Cassem, revised by M. Delaporte, vice-consul
of France; an itinerary which I congratulate myself upon having
submitted, in 1818, to the Institute, since my learned colleague M.
Walckenaer, declares that it induced him to favour the public with
his _Recherches géographiques sur l’Intérieur de l’Afrique
septentrionale_. This document places Timbuctoo at eighty-one
days’ distance from Tripoli, and the oasis of Ain-Salah and
Agably at thirty-three days, or three sevenths of the way. We are
yet ignorant what observations Major Laing made on this route; we
only know that he passed Ghadamès and Ain-Salah, and we possess
his observation made in the latter place. This observation carries
much farther west the position admitted on the maps; but for several
reasons I have felt necessary to make use of it: 1st, Major Laing
proved himself a correct observer, in his travels in the Timannie;
2ndly, the situation of Timbuctoo, being more westerly than it has
hitherto been considered, should carry with it that of the oasis
of Touat, which is in the direct line; 3rdly, there is nothing
in the itinerary of the sheik Hagg-Cassem, in opposition to the
more westerly tendency of this line of route; 4thly and lastly,
the computation of the day’s journey appears to me too low,
when reduced to fifteen geographical miles. The reasons, which
induce me to estimate it at eighteen miles and four tenths, will be
found elsewhere: it follows from this calculation, that the oasis of
Touat should be brought nearer to the ocean. This result agrees with
the more westerly position of the route from Timbuctoo to Tafilet,
as shewn by the journey of M. Caillié. Till some of the papers of
Major Laing are discovered, (and this hope is not altogether lost,
since M. Caillié himself, in traversing the great desert saw a
compass, and heard mention of a sextant which had belonged to him),
it is impossible to make further comparisons between the travels
of the French discoverer and the second expedition of the Major,
although both resided in the city of Timbuctoo, almost in the same
house, and though the latter nearly reached el-Arawan.
§ II.
ANALYSIS OF THE ITINERARY MAP, AND OF THE GENERAL MAP OF THE TRAVELS.
In constructing the maps here submitted to the reader, I was unable
to avail myself of the information procured by our adventurer in
his preceding travels, either in the Bondou, amongst the Brakna
Moors, or amongst the people in the neighbourhood of Kakondy,
the Nalous, the Bagos or the Landamas: these excursions present no
continuous progress susceptible of being traced on a map. The fourth
excursion alone, therefore, can enter into the present discussion,
namely the great journey from the Rio-Nuñez to Tangier, commenced
on the 19th of April 1827, and concluded on the 7th of September
1828; I shall consequently confine myself to a mere glance at the
former travels. The examination of this route will be divided into
three parts.
1st, Journey from Kakondy to Timé, beyond the Dhioliba.
2nd, Journey to Djenné, and navigation of the river thence to
Timbuctoo.
3rd, Journey from Timbuctoo to Arbate, and thence to Tangier.
I shall then devote particular attention to the general map of
the travels.
ART. I.
EARLY TRAVELS OF M. CAILLIÉ.
M. Caillié undertook his first excursion in 1819. From St. Louis,
he repaired to Goree by the usual route, that is to say, he set
out from Gandiolle, and followed the seashore without finding any
opportunity for making new observations. The whole of this coast
is perfectly well known from surveys by officers of the royal navy.
In 1819, he associated himself with M. Adrien Partarrieu, who was
about to rejoin the expedition of Major Gray: the latter was then
in the Bondou, reduced to grievous extremities, and he sent for
M. Partarrieu, to bring him assistance, of which the expedition
stood in the utmost need.[48] It is to be regretted that M. Caillié
took no notes of his stages during this journey; the line of route
crossed that of M. Mollien, as well as that subsequently followed
by Captain Beaufort. The caravan passed Boulibaba, a town inhabited
by the Foulahs, and the situation of which is unknown. This whole
route indeed, deserves to be determined and traced out on the
maps: M.Caillié is amply justified in not having noted these
particulars, knowing that M. Partarrieu was in possession of more
accurate materials; whatever accounts or geographical observations
the latter traveller has transmitted being every way worthy of
attention. Information is wanting respecting the desert space which
on this side separates Cayor from the Ghiolof, respecting Potaco in
the country of Bondou, and the whole transverse line from Gandiolle
to Boulibané, the capital of that state. M. Caillié left Boulibaba
for Bakel, and returned with his fellow-travellers to St. Louis by
water, without having any new observations to make upon the road.
M. Caillié’s third journey is more important, not only on account
of its object, his initiation into the African manners and customs,
and his preparation for an expedition into the interior and all
its attendant hardships but more particularly for the curious
descriptions which he has given of the journeys of the Moors in the
deserts, of their stations hitherto nearly if not wholly unknown,
and of the running or stagnant waters which he met with. It is to
be wished that it had been possible to trace these positions upon
the map; but I had not the means of fixing them with sufficient
exactness. It will be remarked in reading this relation that the
residence of the King of the Braknas is continually varying; he
frequently dwells in the vicinity of the river Senegal and of the
station known by the name of the Braknas. But in the wet season he
penetrates farther into the desert; and when he removes his camp the
entire population travels with him. The extent of space subject to
this powerful tribe has been hitherto known only from east to west;
but we learn from this account how far it reaches towards the north.
It would be desirable to geographers to learn the precise position
of lake Aleg, that of the mountain called Ziré (a word which
however is a generic term), and the limits of the great tribe
of the Abou-sebas or el-Abou-sebah, the name of which is very
differently and incorrectly written upon the recent maps: those
who have supposed that the article formed part of the word, and
that the termination might be retrenched have made out of it the
word _labos_. Two terminations have been used _sebas_ and _sebah_;
the last only is correct.
I shall confine myself to a remark upon the relative position of
Adar and the lake Aleg. According to our traveller, the distance
from the one to the other is seven days’ journey: how then shall we
reconcile the situation assigned to Adrar, not far from Ouâd-noun,
which is more than thirty days distant from the territory usually
attributed to the Braknas? It would be requisite that this territory
should extend northwards even to the extremity of the Sahara,
which is contrary to our received ideas, but perhaps not to the fact.
M. Caillié, having returned in May 1824 to St. Louis, and despairing
to obtain the means necessary for accomplishing his purposes,
determined to remove to Albreda on the Gambia, and thence to
Sierra-Leone, where he succeeded in collecting some resources, by
availing himself of his already acquired information. On the 22nd
of May, 1827, he embarked at Sierra-Leone for Rio-Nuñez, where
he arrived on the 31st. By the 5th of August he was established
at Rebecca (or Rabougga): where he employed himself at once in
completing the observations and information already extant upon the
neighbouring tribes, the Nalous, the Bacos, and the Landamas[49],
and in making preparations for his great expedition. He soon quitted
this place for Kakondy: his activity, his perseverance, uncommon
intelligence, and finally the fortunate circumstances of which he so
skilfully took advantage, enabled him to set out on the 19th of the
same month for Kankan. Ignorant as the world was of the situation
of this town, it would seem that a happy foresight guided him in
making choice of this direction, as in following it he crossed the
rivers with which it was most important to be acquainted, in such
a manner as to enable us tolerably well to assign their position
and their distance from the ocean.
ART. II.
MAP OF THE TRAVELLER’S ROUTE.
* * * * *
GENERAL OBSERVATION.
Before entering, in somewhat minute detail upon the examination of
M. Caillié’s routes, I should make an observation to warn the
reader against the apparent differences which he may observe between
the journal of the travels and the map of the route. To render
this journal fit for perusal, and not to interrupt perpetually the
description of places and people, it has been found necessary to
retrench the number of distances and bearings, to such an extent
that any one who should attempt to form a plan of the route by the
assistance of the narrative alone would fall into serious errors:
respecting this circumstance however the reader has been already
cautioned in a note in the first volume. The construction of the
lines of route upon the map which I have designed is the result
of all the indications given by the traveller, and which I have
collected in the form of a table. It is also necessary to consult
the following article, respecting the use which I have made of these
materials, to render them accordant with anterior information and
the positions already admitted as incontestable.
The entire journey of M. Caillié, from Kakondy to Tangier occupied
five hundred and eight days: from which, in order to obtain the days
of actual travel, three hundred and one days of stationary residence
in eighteen different places, must be deducted, which will leave
two hundred and seven days’ travel. I shall here subjoin a list
of these places of residence, but it must not be inferred that the
traveller had no convenient means of making observations in other
stations, because it will be observed that when he arrived early at
any place of consequence, the remainder of the day was spent there.
+-----------------+----------+--------------+----------+
|PLACES OF ABODE. |DAYS of |PLACES OF |DAYS of |
| |stationary|ABODE. |stationary|
| |residence.| |residence.|
|-----------------+----------+--------------+----------|
|KAKONDY |,, |DJENNÉ |13 |
| | | | |
|L-Antégué |1 |Isaca |1 |
| | | | |
|Pandéya |1 |Tircy |2 |
| | | | |
|Popoco |2 |TIMBUCTOO |13 |
| | | | |
|Cambaya |19 |L-A’raouân |9 |
| | | | |
|Boharaya |1 |Trarzah (or |1 |
| | |Teghazza) | |
| | | | |
|Saraya |1 |Amoul-Gragim |1 |
| | | | |
|Courouman-Cambaya|2 |L-Ekseif |1 |
| | | | |
|Couroussa |1 |El-Harib |13 |
| | | | |
|Kan-kan |28 |Ghourland |5 |
| | | | |
|Youmosso |1 |Boheim |4 |
| | | | |
|Sambatikila |5 |FEZ |1 |
| | | | |
|Timé |158 |Mequinaz |1 |
| | | | |
|Douasso |1 |Arbate |15 |
| | | | |
| | | +----------+
| | |Days of } | |
| | |stationary} |301 |
| | |residence.} | |
| | | | |
| | |Days occupied}| |
| | |in the whole }|508 |
| | |journey. }| |
+-----------------+----------+--------------+----------+
When it is proposed to offer a new map to the public it is an
indispensable duty to submit to inspection the elements which form
its basis, and not to ascribe to the work which results from them
a greater value than appertains to the materials; these again have
no other than what they derive, whether from the instruments and
methods which the traveller has employed, or from the manner in
which he has collected the observations and information which form
the basis of his description. M. Caillié was not provided with any
astronomical instruments; he had no watch, and measured the hour
only by the height of the sun; but he possessed two compasses which
were of great assistance to him. All his bearings were carefully
noted by this instrument during the day, and by the stars at night.
With regard to distances they were estimated according to several
experiments made by himself at Sierra-Leone while preparing for
his enterprise. He made a practice of walking over a certain space
measured exactly in English miles and of observing the time he spent
upon the road. It is thus that he calculated the number of miles in
each of his marches from Kakondy to Djenné at three English miles
an hour, or two geographical miles and six-tenths: as far as Timbo,
however, that is to say during the first days of the journey, this
number must be a little increased; this results from the situation
of Timbo, as determined by Major Laing; and _en passant_ we may
observe that this part of M. Caillié’s journey proves that the
ancient position of Timbo, according to Watt and Winterbottom, is
totally inadmissible. This rate of two geographical miles six-tenths
an hour, or more exactly from two miles four-tenths to two miles
six-tenths, can in general only be ascribed to isolated marches,
and to caravans lightly laden. An hour’s march of a lightly
laden caravan seldom exceeds two geographical miles three-tenths,
and that of a numerous caravan heavily laden does not exceed a mile
and a half, or a mile and three quarters[50].
On quitting Djenné, M. Caillié travelled by water. The current
of the river was slow, the obstacles arising from the faulty
construction of the vessel, the ignorance and unskilfulness of the
pilot, and the islands and sand-banks, reduce an hour’s direct
navigation to two English miles. Different causes producing, however,
similar results determine the same value for an hour’s march in the
deserts between Timbuctoo and Fez. This number of two miles taken
as an average for a long journey[51] admits of almost all possible
differences in the degree of expedition with which a caravan will
move at different times: while it forms also the intermediate length
between the progress of a caravan heavily and of one moderately
laden, which was the case with the caravans which M. Caillié
accompanied from Timbuctoo, as may be seen by his narrative.
This same deficiency of space with a variation in the bearings, has
caused the frequent breaks which I have been obliged to make in the
route on the itinerary map. The scale of a millionth part, adopted
for this map, is perhaps too small to describe the details and all
the angles of the route; I had, accordingly, at first constructed
it upon a scale of double dimensions, but this development would
have required too much space.
FIRST PART OF THE JOURNEY.
The line of route in the first part of the journey depends
essentially upon Timbo. This place is well worthy of attention both
in respect to its physical geography and to the European relations
with Africa. The English have always considered it as an important
station for commerce, but it is not less deserving of study as the
culminating point of this part of the continent. It is fortunate that
several travellers have made efforts to determine its geographical
situation. Major Laing has definitively fixed it in latitude 10°
25’ north, and longitude 12° 54’ west from Paris; its actual
elevation above the sea remains to be correctly ascertained.
I could not establish M. Caillié’s route upon a better basis;
and this I have done, by means of a direction which the traveller
obtained from the village of Dité. There the inhabitants informed
him that Timbo was at two days’ distance in a certain direction,
towards which he immediately applied his compass and found it to bear
S. E. ¼ S. Now, we may observe (and it is a remark common to the
whole interior of Africa), that the inhabitants are scarcely ever
mistaken with respect to the bearings of places; their accuracy
in this respect is surprising; it is the effect of habit and of
a particular tact. Secondly, I subjected this line of route to
the position of the town of Labé, which is tolerably well known
though not so certainly as Timbo. Our traveller, when near Teléouel
learnt that Labé lay N. E. ¼ E. at two days’ distance. Another
confirmation is drawn from the position of Cambaya, in respect to
Timbo, which latter, according to the natives, bears W. S. W. at
two days’ journey from Cambaya. Here, then, are five points well
connected together, Teléouel, Labé, Dité, Timbo, and Cambaya,
forming a whole, the main support of which rests upon Timbo[52].
From the nature of these data I have had no hesitation in subjecting
the route from Kakondy to them; and the result has been that the
hour’s march proves to be a trifle more than three English miles,
which, for the commencement of the journey, is not extraordinary.
But, be this as it may, the construction of this route upon the
itinerary map has undergone no reduction or modification, and I
have confined myself to designing as accurately as the scale would
permit, all the angles of this line, the rivers which the traveller
crossed or had sight of, the different elevations of the soil with
his estimate of them, and in fact all the variations of the ground
which he has carefully noted.
At thirty-two miles from Kakondy is a fine river called Tankilita,
a name which much resembles that of Tingalinta, marked in several
maps at the same distance;[53] and which word is perhaps pronounced
Tenkalita; it is the same, according to the inhabitants, with the
Rio-Nuñez; this stream, which flows to the north, would, in this
case, be only the origin or principal tributary of the Rio-Nuñez.
Other rivulets or rivers, as the Bangala, the Doulinca, and the
Kakiriman, a large river in the neighbourhood of the high mountains
of Antegua, on the contrary flow towards the south. The soil is
chiefly composed of granite in this district and beyond it: the
mountains are very high, steep and pointed; chains still increasing
in elevation succeed each other; and there are among them mountains
two thousand feet in height. All this country, bordering on the
Fouta-Dhialon, presents an accumulation of obstacles, which are
with difficulty surmounted; and yet men and even women, with heavy
loads upon their heads, are continually traversing it. One of these
mountains, the Touma, forms the limit between the Tenanka and the
Fouta, and beyond it are the cataracts of the Cocoulo, a large and
very rapid river. Thence we proceed to the Bâfing, the chief arm
of the Senegal: it appears that its source is to the west of Timbo,
and that its course is to the west and north, (and not to the east);
this, at least, is the inference I draw from the new itinerary;
and the north-easterly course of the Tankisso, which belonged to
the bason of the Dhioliba, confirms this opinion.[54]
We afterwards descend into vast and very fertile plains, watered
by the Tankisso, a large river, with steep banks, the Bandiegue and
others less considerable, till we reach the principal river of this
part of Africa, the Dhioliba.
On leaving the Soulimana the river takes a northerly direction, as
I have said above, on the authority of Major Laing, but afterwards
turns to the east. This bend is precisely given by a distance in
the new itinerary. It may be observed that the river passes at one
day’s journey to the south of Saraya. This bearing is in perfect
agreement with the map of Laing’s journey to the Soulimana,[55]
which will confirm if necessary the position of Saraya, and my
plan of the route. It is known that the actual height of its
source above the level of the sea, is, according to Major Laing,
about sixteen hundred feet, or a hundred and thirty more than the
source of the Rokelle.
It was at Couroussa, in the little country of Amana, that our
traveller crossed it. Though so near to its source, it had already
attained a breadth of nine hundred feet, and the moderate velocity
of two miles and a half. At a short distance from this point,
the Yendan, a large river, falls into it; farther on it receives
the Milo, coming from the town of Kankan, and the Sarano, which
waters the rich plains of the Wassoulo. Proceeding towards the east,
and leaving the Dhioliba to the left, the traveller reached Timé.
The situation of Timé is determined by two data: the one, that the
march, throughout its whole length from Kakondy, was the same; the
caravan was equally numerous, and if the country is less mountainous,
the travellers were more fatigued, which forms a compensation: the
other is furnished by the meridian altitude of the sun, twice taken
at Timé, by means of the length of the shadow. Imperfect as this
observation probably was, we ought to have some respect for it,
when it coincides with the data of the itinerary; I shall soon
resume this subject.
To conclude the examination of this first part of the itinerary,
I shall make some remarks on the situation of the country, which
appears to be the spot where the waters of this portion of the
African continent separate. The first great line of partition is
that which divides the waters of the Senegambia from those of the
Soudan. The mountains which form it have their nucleus at Timbo,
where their distinction into separate ranges is totally lost.
Thence one range diverges to the north, and another to the east,
and it is remarkable that the divisions of the countries or states
correspond with the physical regions. Thus in the country called
Fouta-Dhialon, Timbo and its mountains are the sources of the
Rio-Grande, the Gambia, the Falemé, the Senegal, &c. The Soulimana
and its fountains are the source of the Dhioliba on the one side,
and the Rokelle and the Mungo take their rise on the other. From the
backs of the mountains of the Fouta-Dhialon spring the tributaries of
the Dhioliba, as the Tankisso (which cannot be an arm of the Senegal,
as M. Caillié was informed): the spot where it rises is not far
from Timbo, and the true point of division between the basons of
the north and the east. Thus we have a proximate acquaintance with
the relief of the country, which presents a satisfactory whole,
where all appears to bear a natural connection. To this result
M. Caillié’s observations have materially contributed.
Besides the line of division of which I have just spoken, there is
another which separates the waters of the Senegambia from those of
the Timannie; it is the result of an attentive examination of M.
Caillié’s route. He crossed in fact two considerable rivers:
the one, the Kakiriman, which is from seventy to eighty paces in
breadth; the other, the Cocoulo, which is forty-five; and both
very rapid. He saw them flowing to his right, that is southward,
towards the bason of the Timannie.[56] Further on, that is after
Popoco, all the rivers which he crossed flow to the left, towards
the north, and into the Senegambia. Thus, between the route of M.
Mollien and that of M. Caillié, there must be a very elevated
mountain crest, running from N. W. to S. E. and passing near the
point of intersection of the two routes.
The names of the countries traversed by M. Caillié, in the first
part of his travels, deserve a particular examination. According
to the circumstantial description of the Baleya, it appears to
me, that Major Laing has placed on his map a village of Beilia,
where he ought to have marked and where in fact is, the country
of Baleya. The Firia of the maps is the same with the Fryia or the
Firya of M. Caillié; the Sangaran is nearly where it has been placed
upon the recent maps, but on both sides of the river. With respect
to the Couranco, if M. Caillié was rightly informed, it extends
considerably towards the N. W., whereas Major Laing confines it
to the interval between the rivers Rokelle and Camaranca, in the
south. This country borders it should seem on the Baleya and the
Soulimana. The true source of the Dhioliba is in the Kissi, to the
south of Couranco, according to M. Caillié (or of the Soulimana,
according to Major Laing). Thus the whole discrepancy between the two
travellers is reduced to the lengthening of the country of Couranco;
but, are the limits of these petty kingdoms well defined, and are
the natives themselves fully agreed as to frontiers which violence is
perpetually changing? On many maps the names of Sangala and Couronia
are to be found not far from Couranco and Sangara. I suspect they are
doing double duty here, as in so many other instances in geography,
either through the difference of the orthography or the negligence of
the transcriptions. Is not Couronia altered from Couronca (Couranco)
and Sangala, by the frequent mutation of the _r_ into _l_, from
Sangara? The Wasselon, or Wassoulo, should be placed much nearer to
the ocean, the incontestable consequence of M. Caillié’s march;
and already this example affords a presentiment of the fact as
relates to the course of the Dhioliba and all the districts which
it traverses. This river having also been supposed too much to the
east by three or four degrees, the result has been the necessity of
lengthening all the distances in order to cover the space between
it and Timbo, and the constructors of maps have scattered over this
space the names of countries and places, made all the positions
too remote from each other, and transformed hamlets into towns
and towns into kingdoms. They have not sufficiently remarked the
custom common to almost all travellers of lengthening distances by
an exaggerated estimate, and have neglected to make allowance for
the frequent curves and inflexions of the line of route: a double
cause for throwing into the interior many countries much nearer to
the sea than they are believed to be.
This want of exactness in the compiling of itineraries, or in laying
down those itineraries upon maps, is no novelty in geography; the
Ancients have furnished many examples of it, and the maps designed
after the positions of Ptolemy are nearly all tainted with this
defect; I shall mention Arabia alone as an example. But I must
here terminate this short digression, the subject of which would
almost furnish matter for a book equally useful and instructive. I
also pass over many names of countries with which M. Caillié has
made us acquainted, and which will figure for the first time upon
the map of Africa, and many more which are already known, and the
existence of which is now confirmed by authentic testimony.
SECOND PART OF THE TRAVELS.
The largest portion of the space between Kakondy and Timé may be
regarded as an entirely new acquisition for geography; the same
remark applies to that which we are about to run over with our
traveller. We must not regret that he abandoned the banks of the
Dhioliba, and that this circumstance deprived us of information
concerning the banks of that river from Couroussa to Djenné; we are
indemnified for this loss by his discoveries respecting countries
of which we have hitherto been utterly ignorant. Moreover, had he
passed through Bamacou, Sego, and Sansanding, he would not have
had time to sojourn in them so long as Mungo Park did: he might,
perhaps, even have been recognised at Sego, and like Dochard
have been detained. Leaving the river far to the west, he became
acquainted with the tributary streams which traverse the triangular
space comprised between Couroussa, Timé, and Djenné, and with
all the positions of this vast tract. He also acquired information
concerning the positions situated near the rivers, and of all the
towns of any importance, by the attention which he paid to inquire
their distance and direction at different points of his route.
I have already observed that, the route from Timé to Djenné having
been performed under the same circumstances as the preceding, the
estimate of three English miles an hour applies to this line of
road; I have therefore admitted this with M. Caillié, and I have
had the satisfaction to see that, in forming this line, without any
alteration, upon the distances and bearings as he has given them,
the latitude of Sego would remain very nearly the same as that
which results from the observations of Mungo Park, made in this
vicinity.[57] But this point remains for future examination, when
I shall discuss the situation of Timbuctoo. Thus the delineation
of this portion of the itinerary has not presented any great
difficulties. Some topographical circumstances relating to this
extent of country merit observation.
Beyond Timé the traveller proceeds for two days more towards
the east; he then turns to the (magnetic) north, and continues
afterwards in nearly the same direction, which ought to be borne
in mind. There are high mountains of granite at Timé, and again at
four days’ distance, after which the ground subsides and becomes
level. The sand is succeeded by a fertile soil, furrowed by the
frequent streams running westward towards the Dhioliba, amongst
others the Bagoe, a navigable river, and the Couara-ba. Tangrera,
near the commencement of this line, appears to be a large and very
commercial town; this point is placed, according to the journal to
the E. N. E. of Timé, (east by the compass), but not ten days to the
east as appears by the journal.[58] At Tiara a part of the caravan
directed their course upon Sansanding, and to the N. W., according
to M. Caillié (the line traced on the map gives the true N. N. W.);
agreeably to the information which he obtained at Badiarana. Caya
is nine days to the north, and Sego nine days farther on; now
Sego (as it is placed upon the map, as I have elsewhere said)[59]
is situated due north by the compass, with respect to Badiarana;
but the eighteen days’ journey, if they really exist, must be
very short, occasioned probably by the stagnant waters, and other
obstacles, which render a winding course necessary. The situation
of Cayaye is determined by its bearing upon Couara, five days to
the N. N. W., which places it, as it should be, half way upon the
road between Badiarana and Sego. This spot, Couara, doubly merits
our present attention. I have had occasion, in another work, to
remark that this is a generic word, the sense of which is analogous
to that of river. Here we see beside a village of this name a pretty
considerable river called _Couara-ba_, that is to say _river-river_;
we have some examples of a like denomination in _Ba-ba_, and other
names of the same kind; an additional reason for not identifying
rivers and currents on account of the similitude of their names,
because it is above all things necessary to know whether these
names are generic terms, or individual appellations.
In the second place, the Couaraba runs across a country through
which, according to the map of Mungo Park, a river called _Banimma_
passes, parallel with the Dhioliba; this would appear impossible
since the Couaraba falls into the latter stream, if we may believe
the report of the inhabitants.
This portion of the itinerary furnishes data for the site of a
country and even of a town called _Kong_, placed at a considerable
distance in all the maps. The bearing of a line directed thither
from Douasso is between S. S. E. and E. ¼ S. E. by the compass,
which is in fact due south; so much for its longitude: but a
distance of forty-five days’ journey would carry it much too far
to the south; doubtless the soil is very mountainous upon nearly the
whole road, and the journeys very short. If we stop at the seventh
parallel north, we shall make each day’s march but seven or eight
geographical miles, including the windings of the route.
Still proceeding northward, the traveller crosses large open
plains and rich countries, bounded on the left by swamps, lakes,
or ponds, which indicate the neighbourhood of a large river. At
length he reaches its banks at Galia, opposite to Djenné, at ten
miles distance. Before we enter this capital, let us examine some
important geographical positions. Nothing could be more obscure than
the situation of Bouré; we were ignorant whether there existed
a town of this name, and even what was the site of the country of
Bouré: in the maps we shall find differences of several degrees. M.
Caillié did not visit Bouré; but, in throwing together all the
particulars which he collected, I find sufficient data to determine
the situation of this town; for there is a town, and a very
important one, on account of the vicinity of its rich gold mines,
and the commerce of which it is the centre. Bouré stands upon the
left bank of the Tankisso, a large tributary, as I have before said,
of the Dhioliba, and at three quarters of a day’s journey from the
latter in a direct line, or one day’s above the confluence. These
particulars which agree well together, were furnished by various
persons in various places. Moreover the position of Bouré is
given by its distance from Kankan; and its bearing, namely, four
or five days to the north, ¼ N. E., in descending Milo. Finally,
as a fourth testimony, we learn that Bouré was five days’ march
from Couroussa, descending the Dhioliba in a canoe, and _afterwards
ascending the Tankisso_.
Bamakou is known to us from the second journey of Mungo Park; but
its actual situation should be considerably further to the west:
the information obtained by M. Caillié, and the construction of
the map, place this town at about the tenth degree of longitude
west of Paris, and in latitude eleven degrees forty-five minutes.
The idea of forming an establishment there, is founded upon a real
knowledge of the country; it was long ago suggested in memorials
submitted to government, pointing out its advantages. The documents
of M. Caillié confirm the possibility of the scheme at the present
time. He thinks that from this point it is eight or ten days’
journey to the nearest point of the Senegal. Now, it appears, from
the map, that, by ascending the Bâfing, as far as thirty leagues
above the first cataract of Felou, we should be seventy leagues in a
direct line from Bamakou, which agrees very well with what has gone
before; this, however, is not the place for examining that question.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE COURSE OF THE DHIOLIBA AS TRACED FROM COUROUSSA
TO SEGO AND DJENNÉ.
The course of the river, from Couroussa to Sego, as I have traced it,
deviates from the hitherto received opinions;[60] and I am bound to
justify so material a change, when submitting it to the judgment of
geographers. In laying down the routes of M. Caillié, I was not
prepared for such a result, or rather I was apprehensive of finding
former conjectures relative to the much more westerly position of the
river, and of the towns through which it flows destroyed by actual
observations, as an illusion is dissipated by the clear light of
truth. It has however proved quite otherwise, and this opinion was
far from rash. In fact, beyond Couroussa the river runs due N. E.,
then eastward, and afterwards for a great distance to the north,
instead of pursuing invariably an eastern direction as marked upon
the maps. But on what is this latter direction supported? On what
foundations does it rest? It has no other cause than the position
arbitrarily assigned to Timbuctoo, much too far east, much too far
from the mouth of the Senegal. On the more modern maps attempts
have, it is true, been made to remove this position farther west;
the necessity of bringing it nearer to the ocean has been felt,[61]
but it has not been advanced far enough, and has still been retained
in nearly the same parallel, instead of being brought at the same
time farther north.
If the objection be admitted that M. Caillié has carried his route
by water too far west, the result would then be that his route from
Timbuctoo to Fez must have been carried too far east: now these
two results are opposed to each other, since it is the same line
of route, and the same bearing, which lead from Couroussa to Sego,
from Sego to Timbuctoo, and from Timbuctoo to Fez.
One powerful consideration is that M. Beaufort has fixed and
ascertained the position of the town of Elimané, eastward of Bakel,
by a great number of observations; this is the present capital
of Kaarta. From that place travellers are daily going to Sego;
our unfortunate countryman was himself on the point of proceeding
thither, and would have done so but for the destitution caused
by the pillage of which he was a victim, and which compelled him
to turn back. He was then told that Ségo was only at ten days’
distance; that the bearing of Elimané with regard to Sego was E. S.
E.; and that these days’ journeys were journeys on foot. Let us
work on these data, and see whether they confirm the course of the
river drawn from the itinerary of M. Caillié.
Can these days’ journeys be computed at more than twenty-one
geographical miles? This can scarcely be admitted; but should
they even be extended to twenty-two miles and in a direct line,
it would be on the whole two hundred and twenty miles, which in
the above direction would not reach the ninth meridian west of Paris.
While M. Caillié was at Kiebala, he was told the distances and
bearings of Sego, which differ very little from the position
resulting from that of Elimané in the opposite direction; and
if the river was here carried eastward, as it is found in all the
maps calculated from Park’s travels, there would no longer be any
agreement between these two different sources of information. If,
on the contrary, these respective data are preserved, they naturally
harmonize, and the northerly course of the stream is confirmed.
Besides, the latitude of Sego, although not yet observed, cannot
greatly differ from that of Sami, which is near it: the observation
there made by Mungo Park gives thirteen degrees seventeen minutes,
and this is perhaps, a little too northerly. The approximative
position of Sego, resulting from various data, and which I have
adopted as a medium, would thus be, latitude thirteen degrees;
longitude, nine degrees west.
Sego, according to the itinerary, lies due north by the needle of
Badiarana, that is north seventeen degrees west. This direction
exactly passes through the position which I have assigned to Sego,
from the observation of Sami, by Mungo Park.
The bearing of Sego is likewise precisely indicated by the N. N.
W. line of the compass, drawn from Saraclé.[62]
The course of the Dhioliba, from Sego to Jenné, west and east,
and the position of Sego, are still more strongly confirmed by data
with which the traveller was furnished at Bamba. Sego is three
days’ journey N. W. of that place; and at noon on the fourth,
the city of Sego is reached: these are long days’ journeys. The
proportion of three to four, or rather of three to three and two
thirds, will be actually found as I have traced it.
Lastly, it is elsewhere expressly said, that Sego is five days west
of Jenné; the new map gives W. ¼ S. W. All these data, it is plain,
perfectly coincide; and although they are not authenticated by a
single good celestial observation, yet they agree too well together
to allow one to venture upon deranging the whole itinerary of our
traveller, and carrying the city of Sego and with it the whole course
of the river, two or three degrees farther east, when besides there
exists no observation whatever, either geographical or astronomical,
for carrying the river and its towns farther into the interior of
the continent.
The position of Djenné, the arms of the river by which it is
surrounded, its situation in a large island apart from the Dhioliba,
the stream which branches off in the neighbourhood of Sego, and
rejoins the river at Isaca, four days further on, are so many
circumstances all equally new, and which tend greatly to modify
our previous notions. Looking at this complication of details, the
obscurity and contradictions contained in all the accounts of the
negroes on the subject of Djenné may be easily conceived; but,
upon an attentive study and careful comparison of the different
data, we arrive at a tolerably just idea of these localities:
the reader will judge whether I have attained this object in the
course of these observations and in the drawing here submitted to
him. Unquestionably, there yet remain many circumstances to be
learnt relating to this double branch of the Dhioliba, the true
form and actual extent of the island of Djenné, and its double
or perhaps triple communication with the branches of the river;
for every step yet gained in our acquaintance with this mysterious
river seems to throw us to a greater distance from the ultimate
object: it is, therefore, to confess the truth, nothing more than a
slight sketch that I have presumed to delineate; time will rectify
our yet imperfect notions, and complete the observations of our
indefatigable traveller, when the use that I have made of them
may be judged of. M. Caillié presumes the island of Djenné to
be eighteen miles in circumference; but the construction of the
route and the general appearance of the map induce me to believe
that it is of greater extent: I also suspect, that the junction of
the island with the western branch of the river cannot be seen from
Djenné, but only its junction with the eastern branch; this would
be a natural consequence of the westerly situation of Sego, with
regard to Djenné. For the rest, I refer to the observations in the
following article, that this discussion may not be prolonged here.
I shall not stay to inquire how it happened that Mungo Park knew
nothing of a second branch of the river, when he proceeded from
Sego to Silla. I shall likewise abstain from entering into further
developments respecting the course of the Dhioliba beyond Djenné.
The narrative furnishes ample details, not less instructive than
new, respecting the course of the river, its depth, its immense
width in some parts, to the extent of half or even a whole mile.
One of the most interesting points of this route by water is the
great lake Debo, or Dhiebou, which M. Caillié met with half-way
between Djenné and Timbuctoo. I cannot help thinking that this
lake is the same which figures on the maps under the name of Dibbie,
but with a widely different position, form, and extent.
The enthusiasm of our traveller at the sight of this sea of fresh
water must appear excusable to every one, and his eagerness to take
possession, in a manner, of the spot, on behalf of his country,
by giving names to three islets situated in it, cannot but be
generally approved. Twenty three years earlier, Mungo Park had
accomplished this same navigation, perhaps, had also given names
to these little mediterranean isles. Who, either in France or in
England would have blamed him for this national feeling, had the
account of his discovery reached Europe?.
The lake has two divisions, one eastern, the limits of which may be
seen, the other western, extending beyond the reach of sight. M.
Caillié is ignorant whence this mass of water proceeds; is it
from a tributary, or is it, on the contrary an efflux from the
inundations of the Dhioliba? This geographical question, on many
accounts an important problem, remains then in obscurity; further
on I shall offer a rather probable opinion[63].
To the east of this lake are sands and sterile hills; to the west,
it is lost in vast marshes; the navigation of the latter division
must be extremely difficult. Passing from Djenné to Timbuctoo,
the traveller navigates the eastern division of the lake, keeping
close to the right bank.
Below the lake (on the map) a winding of the river will be observed,
which perhaps appears forced and unnatural; it results from the
lines of route as noted down and the difficulty of substituting any
thing else has alone determined me to retain it, although doubtful
of its accuracy: an error, however, in this tracing will have little
influence on the general result.
In approaching Cabra, the port of Timbuctoo, M. Caillié perceived
to the right a large arm of the river, running E. N. E. and he
continued to navigate the other, holding a north-west course. He
was informed that the latter rejoined the first at some distance;
but this important fact has not been verified by any European eye;
the traveller could not have ascertained it, without repairing
himself, at considerable risk, to the point of junction. As for the
inhabitants, perfectly indifferent as to obtaining or transmitting
intelligence of this sort, they spoke very vaguely to him on the
subject. The problem, therefore, of the ulterior direction, and of
the final termination of these branches of the river, is yet to be
resolved; I defer this discussion to a subsequent article[64], as
well as the particular question of the situation of Timbuctoo[65];
and shall conclude this with repeating, that the itinerary from
Timé to Galia, and from Galia to Timbuctoo, has been framed on
the calculation of two miles an hour.
THIRD PART OF THE TRAVELS.
The progress of M. Caillié through the desert has also been
estimated at two miles an hour, at least as far as Tafilet, and
that for reasons explained at the beginning. The principal interest
presented by this part of the route consists in the exact information
it contains of the wells and stations to be met with amidst this
ocean of sand. Science is indebted to M. Caillié for numerous and
correct notions of these vast solitudes, which travellers cannot
confront without consternation. Thus, we knew the spot called
el-Araouan only by the wells found there, as a place at which the
caravans usually fill their water-skins; but our traveller informs
us that it is an important town: seeing it thus surrounded on all
sides by the deserts, we are the less surprized at the situation
of Timbuctoo in the midst of the sands.
The wells of Telig are remarkable for the vicinity of granite
mountains, and for the neighbourhood of Toudeyni, which, in all the
maps, is carried far to the west of the line between Timbuctoo and
Tafilet. M. Caillié’s description leaves no room for supposing
that he is treating of some other place of the same name, since
this city is well known to be a great mart for salt. I pass over in
silence the immense banks of moving sand, and the rare accidents of
the soil, which scarcely vary throughout this long tract of road,
the dreary uniformity of which is interrupted only by the wells.
Beyond the wells of Mayara appear the last branches of the chain
of Mount Atlas. The granite shews itself at first in fragments
and hillocks, afterwards in high hills and steep mountains. Twelve
days’ journey beyond el-Harib, we enter the district of Tafilet.
Here the report of M. Caillié is widely different from the
received opinions: 1st. He heard nothing of any _town of Tafilet_,
it is merely, he says, the name of a country. It is nevertheless
possible that a town may have heretofore existed there, and have
disappeared like so many other towns of central Africa. I observe
in the travels of Ebn-Hassan from Fez to Tafilet, quoted in the
_Recherches sur l’Afrique septentrionale_[66], &c. that the
territory only of Tafilet is mentioned and not the town; which
would support the account of M. Caillié. 2ndly. This country is
much nearer to the meridian of Fez than it is marked on all the
maps[67]. 3rdly. It is farther north[68], Ghourland, M. Caillié
informs us, is the principal place in this territory; near it
is a place called Afilé, and another of the name of Boheim[69],
besides Ressant, the residence of a governor under the Emperor of
Morocco. M. Caillié mentions another position unknown upon the maps;
a large town called Rauguerute or Rogrut, S. S. E. from Morocco.
The narrative presents but few details concerning the crossing of
Mount Atlas; it is not a matter of surprize that, after so many
fatigues and perils, our adventurer should be impatient to reach
the end of so long a journey. However, I observe in this part the
course of a little river or brook, called the Guigo, flowing from
Soforo (or perhaps from beyond) towards M-Dayara, and probably as
far as Tafilet. Upon carefully examining the traveller’s route,
we perceive that he first saw the Guigo, or had some knowledge of
it, between Rahaba, and L-Eyarac, afterwards at Tamaroc, and Kars;
that he crossed it at L-Eksebi; and that the river fertilizes the
environs of N-Zeland, L-Guim, Guigo, and Soforo. The water-mills
which our traveller saw at Soforo again announce the presence
of the same river. Thus the part of its course with which we are
acquainted will be at least fifty leagues in length and probably
much more. I do not know whether it passes to el-Fez, where however
several different rivulets are seen.
Neither was the journey across the Sahara altogether unprofitable
with regard to our knowledge of the oases and of the stations which
it contains. The distances of these places from the several points
of his route were reported to our traveller; and these distances
are very different from those previously admitted: but are there
two accordant testimonies concerning these positions? Each caravan
and each tribe makes a different estimate of the intervals; and if,
to the actual mistakes which the Moors and natives may commit,
the errors in which they are interested be added, what a source
of uncertainty will these present! Therefore, though I have fixed
upon the general map the points of Tychyt, Oualet, Ouadan or Hoden,
Ouad-Noun, &c., according to the indications of M. Caillié, combined
with other documents, I consider them as very uncertain. Oualet,
says our traveller is at ten days’ distance from el-Araouan,
to the west, fifteen north from Sego, and eighteen from Ouadan:
this point falls near nineteen degrees of latitude and nine degrees
forty minutes longitude west from Paris: the three lines meeting at
nearly the same point. But if it agrees with the three data given
above, it is at variance with the situation of Oualet, as hitherto
admitted, either from Mungo Park, or the testimony of the natives. It
is perhaps another place named Oualet, not that intended by Mungo
Park. Can it be the Gualata of Leo Africanus? but his description
suits this no better.[70] In this case Gualata would be much farther
to the south than is generally supposed. It is however certain that
geographers cannot confound the Walet of Mungo Park with Gualata.
Although M. Caillié has not mentioned Agably which is believed
to be the chief place of the oasis of the Touats, I have been
obliged to insert it in the map, because the traveller gives a
position called Touat much nearer to the route from Timbuctoo to
the Tafilet. It is not surprising that several places should be
so called, because the wandering tribe bearing this name occupy
a considerable portion of the great desert, from the south of
Morocco to beyond Agably. Besides, the situation of this place,
which could not have been brought within the limits of the map, if
we were to adopt the mere reports of the Arabs, to which geographers
have had recourse, falls there, on the contrary, according to the
astronomical observation of Major Laing, who fixes it much farther
to the west. This observation is published, for the first time;
I owe it to my learned friend Captain Sabine, himself united in
the most affectionate intimacy with the unfortunate traveller,
who transmitted it to him after sustaining a first attack on
leaving this oasis. Nor was it at Agably that Major Laing made
the observation, but at Ain-Salah, belonging to the same canton
and at two days’ journey from it; this place is cited in all the
itineraries between Tripoli and the western Soudan. According to
the Major its situation is twenty nine minutes west of Paris, and
twenty-seven degrees eleven minutes thirty seconds north latitude.
Notwithstanding the difference between this and the situation
allotted to this town upon all the maps, I have thought it right
to enter it in the general map of the travels.
The other places of the Sahara, such as Akka, Tatta, el-Kabla,[71]
for want of new data, have been fixed from a comparison of those
upon which the map of M. Walckenaer, or those of Messrs. Lapie,
Brué, Berghaus, &c., were formed. With respect to the names of
tribes and colonies, I have endeavoured to place them with all
possible exactness, and have been obliged to differ from several
recent maps in other respects very valuable.
To the right of his route, and in front of el-A’raouan, M.
Caillié heard of an important situation, that of Sala; but the
accounts were too vague to be compared with the descriptions of
the Arabs.
I shall finish the examination of this third part of the travels
by the general list of the wells and stations of the desert on
the line from Timbuctoo to Fez; which line appears to be the most
advantageous and the shortest, because it is the most frequented.
It seemed to me that the collection of all these names into a single
table might be of some utility. It will be remarked that Toudeyni
does not appear in this list: may not this place be without water
fit for drinking? and has Telig succeeded it as a more convenient
station for caravans? I submit this doubt to the reader.
+-------------------+----------+-----+-----------------------+
|NAMES OF PLACES, |HOURS of |DAYS.|DEPTH OF THE WELLS, |
|wells and stations.|march[72].| |and quality of the |
| | | |water. |
+-------------------+----------+-----+-----------------------+
|From Timbuctoo to |66 |6 |60 feet in depth; |
|el-A’rouan | | |the water brackish, |
| | | |unwholesome, abundant. |
| | | |_Station._ |
| | | | |
|Mourat |" |" |1 foot; water brackish.|
| | | | |
|Telig[73] |111[74] |8 |3 or 4 feet; water |
| | | |brackish and abundant. |
| | | | |
|Crames |32½ |5 |Wells sometimes dry. |
| | | | |
|Trazas or Tghazah |9 |1 |7 or 8 feet; water |
| | | |very salt and bad. |
| | | | |
|Amoul-Gragim |27½ |3 |7 or 8 feet; water |
| | | |muddy, salt, but not |
| | | |bad. |
| | | | |
|Amoul-Taf |25½ |3 |4 feet; water sweet, |
| | | |but in small quantity. |
| | | | |
|L-Ekseif |19 |3 |Excellent water. |
| | | | |
|Marabouty |40½ |4 |Shallow. |
| | | | |
|L-Guedea |32 |4 |Tolerably good water. |
| | | | |
|Mayara |45 |4 |4 or 5 feet; water |
| | | |very salt and bad. |
| | | | |
|Sibicia |21 |2 |7 or 8 feet; water |
| | | |clear and delicious. |
| | | | |
|El-Harib |23 |2 |_Station._ |
| | | | |
|El-Hamid |19 |2 |From 20 to 25 feet; |
| | | |water good. |
| | | | |
|Mimcina |9 |1 |Large town of the Drah.|
| | | | |
|Yeneguedel |8 |1 |3 feet; water good and |
| | | |abundant. |
| | | | |
|Faratissa |7 |1 |2½ feet; water very |
| | | |good. |
| | | | |
|Boharaya |9 |2 |12 feet; water sweet |
| | | |and excellent. |
|Goud-Zenaga |6 |1 | |
| | | | |
|Zenatyia[75] |7 |1 |From 20 to 24 feet; |
| | | |water pretty good and |
| | | |abundant. |
| | | | |
|Chanerou |6 |1 |Wells frequented by |
| | | |the Berbers. |
| | | | |
|Nyela or Ain-Yela |9 |1 |The water is taken |
| | | |up by hand; it is |
| | | |abundant and good. |
| | | | |
|Ghourland |6 |1 |_Station._; chief town |
| | | |of Tafilet. |
|Boheim[76] |1½ |1 | |
| | | | |
|Afilé |1½ |1 | |
| | | | |
|Taneyara |4½ |" |A village without |
| | | |water. |
| | | | |
|Marca |3 |1 |Deep wells; garden. |
| | | | |
|M-Dayara |9 |1 |Town. |
| | | | |
|Rahaba |3 |1 |A large village. |
| | | | |
|L-Eyarac |3 |" |A hamlet. |
| | | | |
|Tamaroc |5 |" |A village on the banks |
| | | |of the Guigo. |
| | | | |
|Kars |4 |" |A village. |
| | | | |
|N-Zeland or |8 |1 |A hamlet. |
|Ain-Zeland | | | |
| | | | |
|L-Eksebi |11 |1 |A large village. |
| | | | |
|L-Guim |10½ |1 |A small village. |
| | | | |
|Guigo |10 |1 |A Berber village. |
| | | | |
|Soforo |11 |1 |A handsome town. |
| | | | |
|Fez |7 |1 |The ancient capital of |
| | | |Morocco |
+-------------------+----------+-----+-----------------------+
ARTICLE III.
REMARKS ON THE GENERAL MAP OF THE TRAVELS AND THE ELEMENTS WHICH
SERVE FOR ITS BASIS.
Having completed the construction of the itinerary, it remained to
subject all these lines of route to the invariable data of which
geography is already possessed. I first sought among these data for
points common to M. Caillié’s march: they are unfortunately very
few in number. How then could I flatter myself, whatever trouble
I might take, with whatever care I might combine all the data,
hazarding nothing without some authority to support it, that I
should produce any thing beyond a mere essay? If it should be
hereafter confirmed by the observations of travellers furnished
with astronomical instruments, the only merits of this work will
consist in fortunate combinations; if it should be falsified by
future discoveries, still it will have called for the criticism
of geographers, and will consequently not have been useless to
science. In submitting to the reader results differing from those
hitherto admitted, I wish to warn him against an error, too common,
especially in map-making, that of giving the preference to the more
recent publications, and to place confidence in them in proportion
as they are so. I am far from desirous of usurping this species
of interest, to the prejudice of geographical works in general
estimation.
The points common to the route of M. Caillié and to the list of
positions considered by geographers as perfectly or sufficiently
established, are confined to the following: the points of the
Western coast of Africa, Kakondy, Timbo, Sami and Yamina (for
the latitude), Bakel, Elimané, Fez; and I shall add to them the
position of Ain-Salah, though published here for the first time.
With respect to the positions of Djenné, Timbuctoo, and the places
situated in the great desert, the uncertainty is so great, that
there is no resting any solid calculation upon them, and they are
of no use in verifying the exactness of new itineraries.
Thus we are reduced, for a space which comprehends twenty five
degrees of latitude and from ten to twelve degrees of longitude,
to eight points in the interior.[77] Still, the point whence the
traveller set out on the first part of his travels, the position of
Timbo in the middle of this part, and the very probable knowledge of
the parallel of Sego, a town which is connected with the itinerary
and attaches itself to the fixed points of the Senegambia, with the
almost certain situation of Fez, form a first basis, which may serve
to verify as well the inflections of the route as the length of the
lines travelled over. I began by establishing the lines from Kakondy
to Timé, from Timé to Djenné and Timbuctoo, and from Timbuctoo
to el-Araouan; first, by supporting them separately upon Timbo, the
parallel of Sego, and the position of Fez; and secondly, by attending
to the declination of the compass. These lines were at first formed
without any other modification than the necessary substitution of
the true north for the magnetic north, in the night journeys. The
direction of the first line from Fez gave me a very fair position
for Timbuctoo; and that of the second line from Timé furnished
me with another but little different, and which the situation
of the parallel of Sego brought considerably nearer to the first:
whatever uncertainty still remained has been cleared up by new data,
of which it would have been difficult not to have made some use.
Whilst at Timé, the idea struck M. Caillié of observing the length
of the shadow of a style at midday; his long stay there gave him
an opportunity of making the observation twice: the first time,
which was on the 30th of October 1827, the height of the style,
with every reduction, was 0,706 metre; that of the meridian shadow
was equal to 0,2945 metre.[78] The second observation was made on
the 1st of November 1827; but this measurement cannot have been
taken with so much precision. It was the shadow, properly speaking,
which was measured, that is to say, the shadow terminating distinctly
and without the penumbra. The calculation gives for the latitude
as nearly as possible nine degrees.[79]
This being admitted, I perceived that the construction (made in the
manner before explained) of the line which represents the first part
of the journey, gave to the situation of Timé the same latitude
within a few minutes. This agreement convinced me that no change was
required in the construction; so small a difference, considering
the insufficiency of the means employed, might indeed be regarded
as an entire concordance, and I could not but suppose that it was
probably the effect of a fortunate compensation for many errors on
the contrary side. I might therefore look upon Timé as a point
nearly fixed, and leave it to establish the other two lines. The
longitude of Timé, resulting from the preceding operations, is nine
degrees two minutes west of Paris. Thus Timé would be at a nearly
equal distance from the equator and from the meridian of Paris.