and two or three persons belonging to the corps of Olemas. The chief
and richest man amongst them had filled the office of Aga during the
time of the Sherif; he was now at the head of an opposition against
the actual Aga, who was of Mohammed Aly’s appointment, and whose
official acts his opponent had sufficient cause to censure. Before
I left Souakin the Kadhi secretly called me to his house, and gave
me a letter, which he entreated me to carry to the Hedjaz, and to
deliver into Mohammed Aly’s own hands; it contained a statement of
complaints against Yemak, and the Hadherebe; wherein the latter were
described as rebels, and as having proved themselves to be such by
not permitting the coin of Mohammed Aly and the piastres of Cairo
to pass current in the place, and by not attending the Friday’s
devotions, when public prayers were added for the Sultan and the
Pasha. The complaints against Yemak were, that he made the Turkish
name ridiculous, that he stood in too much fear of the Bedouins,
and that he disgraced his office by his unnatural propensities.[73]
The letter was altogether a curious composition; the most ridiculous
titles were given in it to the Pasha; among others, he was styled
Asad el barr wa fil el bahr (اسد البرّ و فيل البحر),
the lion of the earth and the elephant of the sea. It was signed
and sealed by a dozen supplicants; and although I did not deliver
it myself in the Hedjaz, I took care that it was duly forwarded to
the Pasha.
The inhabitants of Souakin use very few fire-arms, and few
individuals in the Geyf dare fire a gun. They carry the same weapons
as the Nubians, a sword, a lance, a target, and a knife. About a
dozen horses are kept in the town; in war, the bravest men mount upon
dromedaries and surprise the enemy. Almost every house in the Geyf
possesses a dromedary. The Bedouins of the Geyf are as indifferent
about religion as those of the desert; very few of them would be
found, upon inquiry, to know how to pray in the Mohammedan form;
and I was told that even the fast of Ramadhan is little attended
to. In the town the inhabitants are as strict in their religious
duties as sea-faring people usually are.
I calculate the whole population of Souakin at about eight thousand
souls, of whom three thousand live upon the island, and the rest
in the Geyf.
The cattle of the Souakin Bedouins are extremely numerous; they
are kept in the neighbourhood only during the months immediately
following the rainy season, when the surrounding plains produce
some pasture; during the rest of the year they are pastured, under
the care of shepherds, in the encampments of the Hadendoa, in the
mountains of Dyaab, or Langay. An active and daily intercourse is
kept up between the town and all these neighbouring Bedouins.
About three hours from Souakin is a Wady, in the mountain of Dyaab;
it is watered by a rivulet, and is full of date trees, which are
all of the male species, and produce no fruit: a few Hadendoa live
there at present. A report is current at Souakin, that when that
place was the residence of a Pasha, a town stood in this Wady,
which was much frequented by the Souakin people, and where the
Pasha himself passed a part of the hot season, in cool retirement.
Some of the Hadendoa inhabitants of the Geyf cultivate, after the
rains, a fertile plain called Tokar, situated about two days south
of the town, and not far from the sea; it is spacious, fertile,
surrounded by mountains, and watered by torrents; but its produce
bears a very small proportion to the consumption of the town.
About five hours north of Souakin, the chain of the Dyaab, already
mentioned, advances considerably towards the sea; and the projecting
part forms the northern boundary of the territories of the Bedouins
Hadendoa; beyond it begins the tribe of Amarer, an independent
nation, unconnected with any of the former, whose encampments are
met with on the whole of the coast as far as the island called
Djebel Mekowar. These Amarer are friendly to the Hadendoa, but
upon bad terms with the Bisharein; though it is said that they are
descended from the same progenitors.
Upon enquiry whether the road along the coast to Massouah was ever
followed, I was told that nobody attempts it, and that the only
communication southwards is through Taka. From Souakin to Assouan
is said to be from twenty to twenty-four days journey, but the road
is not frequented. Last year, when the robber Naym interrupted the
regular route between Shendy and Upper Egypt, some enterprising
Souakin merchants planned a journey to Egypt, through the country
of the Bisharein, expecting to get a good price for their camels,
slaves, and various articles of Indian produce. Although at war
with the Bisharein, they procured a couple of guides of that
nation, to ensure their safety, and to point out the roads, and
they settled at the same time the passage duties that were to be
paid to the Bisharye chiefs. In Arabia traders travel safely in
this manner through the territories of hostile tribes, who dare
not molest them, when accompanied by some of their own people. But
the Africans are less scrupulous: at about half-way, the whole
of the Souakin caravan was completely destroyed, and not a single
individual escaped. It is not likely, therefore, that this route
will ever be again attempted. The Hadherebe have no intercourse
whatever at present with those Bisharye tribes who people the
desert to the east of the Amarer and Hadendoa, and northward of
the former as high as the territories of the Ababde. The Amarer
and Hadendoa, although at war with the Bisharein, do not cherish
the same deadly hatred towards them as towards the Hadherebe, and
some little traffic is carried on between them. The Amarer buy at
Souakin their Dhourra, Dammour, and tobacco, which they barter with
the Bisharein for cattle and hides. The principal settlement of
the latter appears to be Olba (عُلبَه), a high mountain close
to the sea, with a small harbour, at about ten or twelve days from
Souakin, and about fifteen days from Daraou in Upper Egypt. Their
principal chiefs encamp in the valleys of this mountain, which is
said to be extremely rich in pasturage, and to be always inhabited
by several powerful tribes. Its name is well known in Upper Egypt,
and the Bedouins Ababde often repair thither with Dhourra, and cotton
stuffs of Egyptian manufacture. It is also visited by the chiefs of
the Ababde, for the purpose of collecting a certain tribute paid to
them by these mountaineers for the permission of pasturing their
cattle in the rainy season in that part of the northern Nubian
mountains which the Ababde claim as their own patrimony; but as
the two tribes are often at war, the tribute is not regularly paid.
I was told repeatedly, both in Upper Egypt and at Souakin, that in
the rocks near the shore in the vicinity of Djebel Olba there are
excavated habitations, which appear to have been the work of the
_infidels_. According to the testimony of several sea-faring people,
Olba is the only tolerable harbour on the African coast, between
Kosseir and Souakin. The Bisharein have a regular market there,
which is supplied from Upper Egypt, Berber, and indirectly from
Souakin. Sometimes, but very rarely, small boats arrive there from
Arabia for hides and butter; but masters of vessels are afraid of
the treachery of the Bisharein, and are seldom willing to encounter
this hazard, in addition to that of the voyage, although it affords
the chance of great profits. It is said that camels are very numerous
there, and that the Bisharein live almost entirely on their milk and
flesh. They cultivate no part of their valleys, though rivulets are
said to be met with in several of them; Dhourra is in consequence
dear, being all carried to them from a great distance; the quantity
which costs two dollars in Upper Egypt will purchase a fine camel
at Olba. It would be highly gratifying to visit this harbour,
which I suspect has remained unknown to all modern travellers and
navigators, and which, if examined, might perhaps at once settle
the disputed points in the geography of this coast.[74]
When we arrived, on the morning of the 26th of June, in the
neighbourhood of the Geyf, I expected that we should immediately
enter the place; but this was not the established custom. The
Souakin merchants repaired to their homes, while the party of foreign
traders alighted at about twenty minutes walk from the town, near
the wells which supply it with water; and where we found a great
number of Negroe Hadjis, who had been waiting several weeks for a
conveyance to Djidda. As we were to remain here till our affairs
should be settled with the chief of Souakin, who levies duties
on all the caravans, every one formed a small tent by means of a
few poles, over which we tied mats. The brother of the chief paid
us a visit in the afternoon; and the next day the Emir himself
came. We paid him half a dollar for each slave, which is the
regular imposition. As the black merchants had some loads with
them for which no regular duty is fixed, and were suspected also
to have gold in their sacks, it was amicably agreed that the Emir,
who was an old acquaintance of theirs, should take two of their
camels. The chief of the caravan takes besides, from every merchant
who is not a Hadherebe, one dollar. With respect to myself, my camel
had become so famous in the caravan for his strength and agility,
that the Emir wished to make it his own; he told me that all camels
brought from Soudan by foreign traders belonged to him by right,
and therefore insisted upon taking mine. As I had calculated upon
selling it here to defray my passage to Djidda, and felt confident
that no such law existed, I refused to comply with the chief’s
demand and insisted upon having our differences referred to the
Turkish custom-house officer. I was now in a place where I thought
I might turn to account the Firmaan I had received from Ibrahim
Pasha, as well as an old one given me by his father Mohammed Aly,
when I left Cairo eighteen months ago, and before the latter had
gone to the Hedjaz. Yet as I was not quite sure of the dispositions
of these Bedouins and their obedience to the Pasha’s authority,
I said nothing of the Firmaans, but demanded to be carried before
the Aga, to whose commands I declared I should immediately comply,
if he ordered me to deliver up the camel. The Emir from the first
day of our arrival had interdicted me from passing over to the
island; he now thought he might concert his measures with the Aga
himself to strip such an unprotected person as I appeared to be:
he acquainted the Aga with my arrival, and soon after carried me
himself to the Aga’s house on the island. When we entered, the
Aga was sitting listening to some sailors; I made him a low bow,
when he addressed me in the Turkish language in such phrases as
would be used in speaking to servants. Finding that I did not
answer him in the same idiom, he exclaimed in Arabic, “Look
at that scoundrel! he comes from his brethren the Mamelouks at
Dóngola, and pretends not to know any thing of Turkish.” It was
true indeed, that in my face and beard I resembled more a Mamelouk
than any other eastern native; but every person in the caravan knew
that I had come from Egypt to Shendy, and that I did not belong to
the Mamelouks. Dóngola being only from ten to sixteen days distant
from Souakin some apprehensions had long been entertained lest the
Mamelouks should endeavour to effect their retreat to this harbour,
and attempt to join the Wahabi in Arabia against their common enemy,
Mohammed Aly Pasha. Hassan Djouhar (حسن جوهر كاشف),
one of their Kashefs, had passed through Souakin in his way to
Mekka, in 1812, while Sherif Ghalib was master of Djidda, and it
was well known that he had had several conferences with Saoud, the
Wahabi chief. The Aga therefore thought, by pretending to consider
me either as a Mamelouk spy, or refugee, though he must have been
convinced that I was neither, and by apprehending me as such, he
might seize my property with impunity, and also merit the thanks
of his superiors at Djidda, for his vigilance. I coolly told him
that I had come to him for the purpose of knowing from his own
mouth, whether the Emir was entitled to my camel. “Not only thy
camel,” he replied, “but the whole of thy baggage must be taken
and searched. We shall render a good account of them to the Pasha,
depend upon it; for you shall not impose upon us, you rascal,
and you may be thankful if we do not cut off your head.”[75]
I protested that I was nothing but an unfortunate merchant,
and begged that he would not add to the sufferings I had already
experienced. It was my wish, for obvious reasons, to pacify him,
if possible, without shewing my Firmaans, but Yemak soon obliged
me to give up this idea; he began cursing and swearing in Turkish,
and then calling an old cripple, to whom he had given the title of
Waly, or police-officer, he ordered him to tie my hands, to put me
in prison, and to bring my slave and baggage into his presence. I
now thought it high time to produce my Firmaans, which I drew from
a secret pocket in my Thabout; one of them was written in Turkish,
upon a piece of paper two feet and a half in length, and one foot
in breadth, and was sealed with the great seal of Mohammed Aly;
the other, a smaller one, was written in Arabic, and bore the seal
of Ibrahim Pasha, his son, in which Ibrahim termed me “our man,
Ibrahim, the Syrian” (رجلنا ابرهيم الشامي,
Radjilna Ibrahim es-Shamy.)
When Yemak saw the Firmaans unfolded, he became completely stupified
and the persons present looked at me with amazement. The Aga could
read the Arabic only, but he kissed them both, put them to his
forehead, and then protested to me, in the most submissive terms,
that it was the good of the public service alone, that had led him
to treat me as he had done, and for which he begged me a thousand
pardons. Nothing more was said about the Emir’s right to my
camel, and he declared that I should pay no duty for my slave,
though he was entitled to it. He very naturally asked me the
cause of my appearance; for by this time my dress, which had not
been very splendid when I set out on my journey, was literally
in rags. I replied that Mohammed Aly Pasha had sent me as a spy
upon the Mamelouks, and to enquire into the state of the Negroe
countries, and that I had assumed the garb of a beggar, in order to
pass unmolested. Yemak now began to consider me a great personage,
and the natural consequence was, that he became afraid of me, and
of the reports I might hereafter make to the Pasha concerning his
conduct and his government in Souakin. His behaviour became most
servile; and he offered me a slave girl, and a new dress of his own,
as a present, both of which I refused. During my stay at Souakin,
I repaired daily to his house to partake of a good dinner, of which
I stood in great need, and to indulge myself in smoaking Yemak’s
Persian pipe. The people of the town laughed at seeing this man’s
pride humbled by the attentions he thought it incumbent on him
to shew to a beggar like me. My object was to find protection in
his company, to recruit my strength by his good fare, and to save
expense, for by this time I had only two dollars in my purse.
Among the persons whom I frequently met at Yemak’s table was
a Sherif, who during the reign of the Sherif Ghalib had been his
officer of customs and Aga at Massouah, in which he had at first
been confirmed by Mohammed Aly Pasha; but was soon after dismissed
on account of several fraudulent transactions, and had taken refuge
at Souakin. This man had known Mr. Salt during his second visit to
Abyssinia, and he told me that his master Ghalib had given him strict
orders to prevent, by every means in his power, any Franks, and
English especially, from entering Abyssinia. As he had no knowledge
who I really was, I had not the smallest reason for doubting what
he said. Lord Valentia’s short stay at Souakin was remembered,
and often spoken of as a singular event.
I continued during the whole of my stay here to live with the Black
merchants outside the Geyf, notwithstanding the pressing invitations
of the Aga to take up my abode in his house. I assisted them in
smuggling several of their slaves into the town, a service which
they repaid by ordering their slaves to prepare some dried meat for
my voyage across the Red Sea. We lived surrounded by several hundred
Tekaýrne, who were waiting for a passage, and who in the mean while
earned their livelihood partly by acting as porters (for the Souakin
people are too proud to act as such), and partly in making earthen
pots for the kitchens of the town. I sold my camel for four dollars
only, for the Shikh of the Hadherebe having declared that he wished
to buy him, no other purchaser ventured to offer, and he was thus
enabled to fix his own price. Worn down as it was with fatigue,
it was still worth double that sum, for camels are of much the
same value here, as on the Nile countries of Soudan. My camel had
sometimes carried not only my baggage and water, but also myself
and slave, at times when we were both over-fatigued. In general
I permitted the boy to ride four or five hours in the early part
of the day, and then succeeded him myself for the remainder. The
Souakin merchants were astonished at my condescension, in which, I
must confess, that although humanity had some share, self-interest
had still more; for I knew that if the slave had been exhausted by
fatigue, I should probably have soon shared his fate. During my stay
at Souakin the hottest and most violent Simoum occurred that I ever
remember to have experienced. The whole atmosphere appeared to be in
a blaze, and we escaped with some difficulty from being suffocated
by the clouds of sand that were blown about in every direction.
A small ship, one of those called Say in the Red Sea, had begun
to load, and I informed the Aga of my intention to take my passage
on board of it. At any other time, and under other circumstances,
I should probably have gone from hence to Mokha; for previous to my
leaving Cairo, Colonel Missett, his Britannic Majesty’s Resident
in Egypt, among numberless kindnesses towards me, had done me the
favour to write to the East India Company’s agent at Mokha,
apprising him that a traveller of my description might perhaps
arrive there from the opposite coast, and desiring him to furnish
me with money for my future travelling expenses. It had been for
some time a favourite project with me to visit the interior of the
Yemen mountains, where the origin of most of the Bedouin tribes of
Arabia is to be found, and where their ancient manners are said to
subsist in all their original purity. In departing therefore from
Upper Egypt I had intended to proceed from Massouah or Souakin,
whichever of the two places I should reach, to Mokha, and from thence
to Sana, the capital of the Yemen, where I might hope to join the
Yemen pilgrims in their annual route over the mountains to Mekka. The
performance of this journey would have been of considerable advantage
to Arabian geography, and it might, perhaps, have led to interesting
facts respecting Arabian history. But the information I collected
at Souakin respecting the war in the Hedjaz soon made me abandon
this project; the head quarters of Mohammed Aly were then at Tayf,
and his advanced corps was several days journey to the south of
that place, in the very mountains where I should have passed, and
where the greatest body of the Wahabi forces was collected. There
was not the smallest chance of my passing through these fanatics,
who would have certainly taken me for a Turkish spy, and sacrificed
me to their vengeance.
The Aga ordered the master of the ship to give me a free passage,
and to put on board some provisions for me, consisting of dates and
sugar, the best articles of his own store-room. We embarked in the
evening of the 6th of July. When I saw the great number of people
assembled on board, I repented having taken my passage in this ship;
but I soon understood that from this time till the month of the Hadj
(November) every vessel that sailed from Souakin would be equally
crowded with passengers. My old companions the Black merchants were
too numerous including their slaves, to find room in this vessel,
they therefore determined to wait till another opportunity; they
arrived at Djidda about three weeks after me. Our ship, or rather
boat, for it was not more than between thirty and forty feet long,
and nine feet broad in the widest part, had only one sail, and was
quite open, without either deck or awning. It had taken in Dhourra
as ballast; the baskets[76] were covered with several layers of mats
and hides, upon which one hundred and four persons, including the
crew, were to be accommodated; of these fifty were Tekaýrne men and
women, and fifty were slaves, belonging either to Black or to Souakin
merchants, who were on board. During the night, about fifteen persons
were sent on shore, to whom the Reis returned their fare, which
they had paid in advance, but there were still eighty-nine persons
in the ship when we sailed the next morning. The avidity of the
masters in thus overloading their vessels often causes their ruin;
about six months ago, two ships on their way from Djidda to Souakin,
with a number of Negroe pilgrims on board, were wrecked on the coast
at a short distance to the north of Souakin; a few lives only were
saved, and the cargoes were entirely lost. No year passes without
accidents of this sort happening; but the Arab sailor says—“Allah
is great!”—and follows the practice of his predecessors.
PASSAGE FROM SOUAKIN TO DJIDDA.
_July 7th._—We remained in port the whole of the morning, waiting
for a supply of water. The Tekaýrne and their slaves pay one dollar
a head for their passage; each of them has his water-skin suspended
over the side of the vessel. Provisions of water for the master
and crew, and for the Souakin merchants, for three days, are kept
in a few large jars standing on the prow. The sailors and Souakin
people dealt heavy blows among the blacks, who were fighting with
each other for room in the vessel. We sailed in the evening, and
anchored after midnight, at the mouth of the bay of Souakin, where
a small ruined bastion or watch tower stands. Here the pilot who had
brought us out of the channel left us, to return by land to El Geyf.
_July 8th._ We sailed after sun-rise, with a good wind; the course
was northward along the coast, at the distance of four or five
miles, amongst rocks and coral-reefs. At three o’clock P. M. we
entered a very narrow creek, of dangerous access, called Dagoratag;
the breadth, at the entrance, was hardly sufficient to allow a ship
of any size to veer round, but the depth of water was considerable,
except close in-shore. The beach is sandy and gravelly, with some
trees and shrubs growing upon it. The Bedouin inhabitants, who are
of the tribe of Amarer, soon ran down to demand their harbour dues,
which consist of about one dollar’s worth of Dhourra, and must
be paid by all ships touching at this harbour. They sold us at the
same time, some milk. All these anchorages are called by the Arabs,
Merasy (مراسي).
_July 9th._ We sailed after sunrise; it is the practice in all
parts of the Red Sea to sail at this hour, and to anchor in a port
in the afternoon; the mariners never depart from this custom till
they are obliged to stand over to the opposite coast. The ignorance
of the Arabians in navigation obliges them to proceed with great
caution in this dangerous sea. Conscious of their want of skill,
and of the insufficiency of their vessels, they avoid encountering
an open sea or an adverse wind. The smaller ships have neither
logs nor compasses on board, or if they have, never make much use
of them. Our captain’s plan was to proceed along shore as far as
Djebel Mekouar. This is the common route of the Souakin vessels
during the prevalence of the northerly breezes, as the wind from
thence is usually fair for stretching across to Djidda. Ships
bound from Souakin to Mokha generally proceed southward along the
African coast, anchoring in some port every evening, till they reach
Massouah, from whence they cross over to the Arabian shore. In
the northern part of the Red Sea, the vessels bound from Kosseir
to Djidda cross over to the nearest point of the opposite coast,
and then proceed along shore to Djidda. On the contrary, those from
Djidda to Kosseir follow the coast as high as the latitude of Moyla,
or Ras Mohammed, and cross from thence, by the help of the northerly
winds. These coasting voyages are still more necessary to the Souakin
slave vessels, because they are generally so full of passengers
and slaves as to be obliged to take in a daily supply of water.