present of it to Bel-Ghét. On this occasion he cast his eyes on a small
telescope which I had bought in Paris for six francs, and begged me to
give it to him for the loaf of sugar which he had just lent me. I
complied with his wish. Taking the loaf of sugar with me, and the two
other letters of the sultan of Ágades, as well that addressed to the
governor of Dáura, as that to the governor of Kanó, I went to Bel-Ghét,
and presenting him with the sugar as a small token of my acknowledgment
for the trouble he was taking in my behalf; I showed him the letters as
a proof that the sultan of Ágades never intended to forward me to his
friend the governor of Kátsena as a sort of “abenchí,” or a _titbit_ for
himself, but that he acknowledged entirely my liberty of action, and
really wished to obtain protection for me wherever I might choose to go.
Bel-Ghét being touched by the compliments I paid him, affected to
understand now for the first time the real circumstances of my case, and
promised to lend me his assistance if I would bind myself to return to
Kátsena from Bórnu, after having received sufficient supplies from the
coast. This I did to a certain degree, under the condition that
circumstances should not prove unfavourable to such a proceeding; indeed
I doubted at that time very much whether I should be able to return this
way again. But when I did re-visit Kátsena in the beginning of 1853,
with a considerable supply of presents, and met before the gates of the
town this same man, who had been sent to compliment me on the part of
the same governor, it was a triumph which I could scarcely have
expected. The old man was on the latter occasion almost beside himself
with joy, and fell upon my neck exclaiming, over and over again, “ʿAbd
el Kerím! ʿAbd el Kerím!” while I told him, “Here I am, although both my
companions have died; I am come to fulfil my promise. I am on my way to
Sókoto, with valuable presents for the Emír el Múmenín.”
Leaving Bel-Ghét in better humour, I went with El Wákhshi to his house,
where he treated me and two Ásbenáwa with a dish of roasted fowl and
dates, after which I proceeded with him through the decayed and deserted
quarter where the rich Ghadámsíye merchants once lived, and through some
other streets in a rather better state, to the market-place, which forms
a large regular quadrangle, with several rows of sheds, or runfá, of the
same style as those in Tasáwa, but much better and more regularly built.
Of course there was here a better supply of native cotton-cloth, and of
small Nuremberg wares, in the market than in the former place; but
otherwise there was nothing particular, and altogether it was dull,
showing the state of decay into which this once splendid and busy
emporium of Negroland has fallen.
The most interesting thing I observed in the market were limes, of
tolerably large size, and extremely cheap, and the beautiful large fruit
of the gonda (_Carica Papaya_), which had just begun to ripen; however,
the latter was rather dear, considering the low price of provisions in
general, a fine papaw being sold for from twenty-five to thirty kurdí, a
sum which may keep a poor man from starvation for five days. In Kanó I
afterwards saw this fruit cut into thin slices, which were sold for one
“urí” (shell) each. Having sat for a long time with El Wákhshi in a
runfá, without being exposed to any insult whatever, though I was
necessarily an object of some curiosity, I returned home and passed the
evening quietly with my people, Gajére giving me reason all the time for
the utmost satisfaction with his faithful and steadfast behaviour.
Besides being sincerely attached to me, he was persuaded that he
possessed influence enough to get me out of my scrape; and thus he
informed me, as a great secret, that he had forwarded a message to
Ánnur, giving him full information of my case, and that in consequence I
might give myself no further trouble, but rely entirely upon that
chief’s assistance. While he was thus cheering my spirits in the
evening, as we lay round the fire in our courtyard, he frequently
repeated the words, “Kasó mutúm dondádi uyátaso, kádda kakíshi da
kúmmia,” contrasting his own faithfulness with the faithless, frivolous
behaviour of Mohammed el Túnsi, whom he called “mógo mutúm” (a bad sort
of fellow). But Gajére also had his own reasons for not being so very
angry at our delay, as the lean mare which I had hired of him had a sore
back, and was in a rather weak state, so that a little rest and a full
measure of corn every day was not so much amiss for her.
El Wákhshi returned the same evening, giving me hope that I might get
off the next day. However, this proved to be empty talk; for the
following day my business with the pompous Béllo made no progress, he
demanding nothing less from me than one hundred thousand kurdí or
cowries—a sum certainly small according to European modes of thinking,
barely exceeding 8_l._, but which I was quite unable to raise at the
time. Béllo was mean enough to found his claims upon his noble but quite
uncalled-for hospitality, having given me, as he said, two rams, two
vessels of honey, and two loads of corn, altogether worth from eleven to
twelve thousand cowries; and I now felt myself fully justified in
changing his noble title “Sultán ben Sultán” into that of “dellál ben
dellál” (broker, son of a broker). Even my old friend El Wákhshi took
the occasion of this new difficulty of mine to give vent to his feelings
as a merchant, saying that this was the “dʿawa” (the curse) attending
our (the English) proceedings against the slave-trade. And it must be
confessed that the merchants of Ghadámes have suffered a great deal from
the abolition of the slave-trade in Tunis[13], without being compensated
for this loss by the extension or increased security of legitimate
commerce. Seeing that the slave-trade is still carried on in Núpe or
Nýffi, where, they are persuaded, the English could prevent it if they
would, and that it is there carried on not by Mohammedans but by
Christians, they have plausible grounds for being angry with the English
nation.
I had a highly interesting discussion with my old fanatical friend Bel-
Ghét. It seems that after I had protested against his calling me “káfer”
the other day, he had held a consultation on the subject with some
people of his own faith; and his zeal being thus revived, he returned to
day to urge the point. He began with questioning me about the different
nations that professed Christianity, and which among them were the
“kofár;” for some of them, he was quite sure, were, and deserved to be,
so called. I replied that the application of the word depended on the
meaning attached to it, and that if he understood by the word káfer
anybody who doubted of the mission of Mohammed, of course a great many
Christians were kofár, but if, with more reason, he called by this name
only those who had no idea of the unity of God, and venerated other
objects besides the Almighty God, that it could then be applied only to
a few Christians particularly to those of the Greek, and to the less
enlightened of the Catholic Church, though even these venerated the
crucifix and the images rather as symbols than as idols. But I confessed
to him that, with regard to the unity of the Divine Being, Islám
certainly was somewhat purer than the creeds of most of the Christian
sects; and I acknowledged that, just at the time when Mohammed appeared,
Christianity had sunk considerably below the level of its pristine
purity. The old man went away pleased with what I had told him, and
swore that he would not again call the English kofár, but that with my
permission he would still apply that name to the “Mósko” (the Russians).
In the afternoon his son, a man of about five and thirty, came to visit
me, accompanied by a sheríf from Yeman, who had been to Bombay, and was
well acquainted with the English; he was now on his way to Timbúktu, in
order to vindicate his right of inheritance to the property of a wealthy
merchant who had died there. In this, however, he was unsuccessful; and
when I reached Timbúktu in September, 1853, he had left it some time
previously with broken spirits and in great distress. He perished on his
way home. He was an amiable and intelligent man, and visited me several
times. From him and his companion I received intimation of a large
“Christian book,” bound in leather, with edges and lock made of metal,
in the possession of a Púllo or Ba-Féllanchi in the town; but no one
could tell me whether it was manuscript or print, and although I offered
to pay for a sight of it, I never succeeded in my object. It might be
one of those heavy books which Clapperton, when dying, told Lander
rather to leave behind than take with him to England.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, January 28th.]
I at length succeeded in arranging matters with the governor. Early in
the morning I sent Mohammed to El Wákhshi in order to try and settle the
business, telling him that I was ready to make any possible sacrifice;
and he sent me a bernús for fifty-two thousand kurdí. While I was
hesitating about contracting a new debt of such magnitude (in my poor
circumstances), Bel-Ghét, who evidently feared that if I gave one large
present to the governor, he himself would get nothing, intimated to me
that it would be better to choose several small articles. El Wákhshi
therefore procured a caftan of very common velvet, a carpet, a sedríye
or close waistcoat, and a shawl, which altogether did not exceed the
price of thirty-one thousand kurdí, so that I saved more than twenty
thousand. In order, however, to give to the whole a more unpremeditated,
honorary, and professional appearance, I added to it a pencil, a little
frankincense, and two strong doses of Epsom salts.
While Bel-Ghét was engaged in negotiating peace for me with the
eccentric governor, I went with El Wákhshi and Gajére to the market, and
thence proceeded with the latter, who, stout and portly, strode before
me with his heavy spear, like a stately bodyguard or “kavás,” to the
house of Mánzo, an agent of Masáwaji, who always lives here, and paid
him our compliments. Passing then by the house of the sultan of Ágades
(“gída-n-serkí-n-Ágades”), who occasionally resides here, we went to the
“kófan Gúga” (the north-western gate of the town), which my companion
represented to me as belonging entirely to the Ásbenáwa; for as long as
Kátsena formed the great emporium of this part of Africa, the Aïri used
to encamp in the plain outside this gate. The wall is here very strong
and high, at least from without, where the height is certainly not less
than from five and thirty to forty feet, while in the interior the
rubbish and earth has accumulated against it to such a degree that a man
may very easily look over it; the consequence is, that during the rains
a strong torrent formed here rushes out of the gate. On the outside
there is also a deep broad ditch. We returned to our lodging by way of
the “máriná” and the market, both of which places were already sunk in
the repose and silence of night.
I had scarcely re-entered my dark quarters, when Bel-Ghét arrived,
telling me that the governor did not want my property at all; however,
to do honour to my present, he would condescend to keep the caftan and
the carpet, but he sent me back the sedríye and the shawl—of course to
be given as a present to his agent and commissioner, my noble friend
from Gurára. The governor, however, was anxious to obtain some more
medicines from me. He at the same time promised to make me a present of
a horse. Although I had but a small store of medicines with me, I chose
a few powders of quinine, of tartar-emetic, and of acetate of lead, and
gave him a small bottle with a few drops of laudanum, while it was
arranged that the following morning I should explain to the governor
himself the proper use of these medicines.
The next morning, therefore, I proceeded with Bel-Ghét, to whose swollen
eye I had successfully applied a lotion, and whose greediness I had
satisfied with another small present, on the way to the “zínsere.” He
wished to show me the interior of the immense palace or the “fáda;” but
he could not obtain access to it, and I did not see it till on my second
visit to Kátsena.
Béllo received me in his private apartment, and detained me for full two
hours while I gave him complete information about the use of the
medicines. He wanted, besides, two things from me, which I could not
favour him with,—things of very different character, and the most
desired by all the princes of Negroland. One of these was a “mágani-n-
algúwa” (a medicine to increase his conjugal vigour); the other, some
rockets, as a “mágani-n-yáki” (a medicine of war), in order to frighten
his enemies.
Not being able to comply with these two modest wishes of his, I had
great difficulty in convincing him of my good will; and he remained
incredulous to my protestations that we had intentionally not taken such
things as rockets with us, as we were afraid that if we gave such a
thing to one prince, his neighbour might become fiercely hostile to us.
But he remarked that he would keep such a gift a secret. I was very glad
he did not say a word more about the pistols; but in order to give me a
proof that he knew how to value fine things, he showed me the scissors
and razor which I had given him the other day, for which he had got a
sheath made, and wore them constantly at his left side. He then told me
he would make me a present of an “abi-n-háwa” (something to mount upon),
intimating already by this expression that it would not be a first-rate
horse, as I had not complied with his heart’s desire, but that it would
be furnished with saddle and harness, and that besides he would send me
a large “hákkori-n-gíwa” (an elephant’s tooth) to Kanó. This latter
offer I declined, saying that, though my means were very small at
present, I did not like to turn merchant. He reminded me then of my
promise to return; and we parted the best of friends. Notwithstanding
the injustice of every kind which he daily commits, he has some
sentiment of honour; and feeling rather ashamed for having given me so
much trouble for nothing, as he was aware that it would become known to
all his fellow-governors, and probably even to his liege lord, the Emír
el Mumenín, he was anxious to vindicate his reputation. It was from the
same motive that he begged me most urgently not to tell anybody that I
had made him the presents here, adding, that he would afterwards say
that he had received them from me from Kanó.
Having returned home, I thankfully received the compliments which were
made me from different quarters on account of the fortunate issue of my
affair with this “munáfekí,” or evil-doer; and although the horse, which
was not brought till next morning after we had been waiting for it a
long while, proved rather ill-looking and poor, being scarcely worth
more than ten thousand kurdí, or four dollars, and though the saddle was
broken and harness wanting altogether, I was quite content, and exulted
in my good fortune. But before leaving this once most important place, I
shall try to give a short historical sketch of its past, and an outline
of its present state. I only hope that the description of my personal
relations in this town may not be thought too diffuse; but while it
affords a glance into the actual state of things, it may also serve to
instruct those who may hereafter travel in these regions.
[Footnote 4: It might seem to some readers that there is some connection
between the name of the valley and the tree; but I think it is merely
accidental. The Háusa language is not a written language; but if the
natives were to write the name “bóre” or “báure,” they would certainly
write it with an _r_, and not with a _gh_.]
[Footnote 5: This village I touched at on my journey from Zínder to
Kátsena in 1853—a journey which is of great importance for the
construction of my routes collectively, as it forms the link between my
first route and Zínder.]
[Footnote 6: It has been remarked by travellers that this tree is only
found near some dwelling-place of man; but I doubt whether we are
authorized to regard all those specimens of it which are scattered over
the wilds of Central Africa, as marking the site of former towns.]
[Footnote 7: The Háusa people call the site of a former town “kufai,” in
the plural form “kufaife.”]
[Footnote 8: Gajére enumerated to me also the following places as lying
towards the north-west of our road in the direction of Marádi: viz.,
Wála, Golkúka, Harumáwa, Gindáwa, Majéne, Kóre, Dándabu, Kúbdu (a large
place belonging to Astáfidet), Sámia maigíjje, Rubákia, Furagírke, Agé,
Kukúta, Kafí mayáki (which approaches within a little distance of
Tindúkku, the place I mentioned above). Further southward, on the west
side of our route, were mentioned Súruru and Kofí; to the east, Sámia
maidánkay. On inquiring after Sámia Enkóra, a place mentioned in an
itinerary sent home by Mr. Richardson during his first journey, I learnt
that it lies on an eastern road leading from Damerghú to Tasáwa by the
following stations (the march being slow from Tágelel):—Baíbay, Kamé,
Sámia E_l_kóra (this is said to be the right form of the name), Dándu,
Gomariyúma, Tasáwa.]
[Footnote 9: All sorts of wind instruments, the flute included, are
called by the Háusa people “bushé-bushé,” from which word the Féllani-n-
Háusa have formed “fufefuféji.”]
[Footnote 10: This is the only correct Háusa form for the singular of
Féllani.]
[Footnote 11: I afterwards heard that these people belonged to the Kél-
tídik, and possessed large establishments of slaves and farms in Dwán
and Shirgíngim.]
[Footnote 12: The Fúlbe generally change the ʿain into ghain, and
therefore say Ghomáro instead of ʿOmáro.]
[Footnote 13: The recent abolition of the slave-trade in Tripoli and
Fezzán will certainly not soothe their wrath.]
CHAP. XXIV.
HÁUSA. — HISTORY AND DESCRIPTION OF KÁTSENA. — ENTRY INTO KANÓ.
In order to render intelligible the anterior history of Kátsena, it will
be necessary to enter into some preliminary explanation respecting the
whole country of Háusa. The name Háusa was unknown, as it seems, to Leo
Africanus; else instead of saying that the inhabitants of Zária,
Kátsena, and Kanó spoke the language of Góber[14], he would have said
that they spoke the Háusa language. But we have no right to conclude
from this circumstance that the practice of giving the name Háusa, not
only to the widely-diffused language, but also to the countries
collectively in which it prevails, is later than Leo’s time; on the
contrary, I must acknowledge the improbability of such an assumption. It
is true that, with the faint light available, we are unable to discern
quite distinctly how the Háusa nation originated; but we may positively
assert that it was not an indigenous nation, or at least that it did not
occupy its present seat from very ancient times, but that it settled in
the country at a comparatively recent date. As to one of the associated
states, and the most prominent and noble amongst them (I mean Góber), we
know positively that in ancient times it occupied tracts situated much
further north[15]; and I have been assured that the name Háusa also
proceeded from the same quarter—an opinion which seems to be confirmed
by the affinity of that language with the Temáshight.[16] Whether the
name was originally identical with the word “Áusa,” which, as we shall
see, is used by the Western Tawárek and the people of Timbúktu to denote
the country on this the northern side of the Great River, in opposition
to “Gúrma,” the country on its southern side, I am unable to say.
Sultan Béllo’s statement, that the Háusa people originated from a Bórnu
slave, deserves very little credit. It is to be considered as merely
expressive of his contempt for the effeminate manners of the Háusa
people in his time. But their language, though it has a few words in
common with the Kanúri, is evidently quite distinct from it, as well in
its vocabulary as in its grammar. What Béllo says may be correct in a
certain sense with regard to the population of Kanó, which indeed seems
to consist, for the greater part, of Bórnu elements, though in course of
time the people have adopted the Háusa language; and this may be the
case also with other provinces, the original population having been more
nearly related to the Manga-Bórnu stock. The name “Báwu,” which occurs
in the mythical genealogy of the Háusa people as that of the ancestor of
most of the Háusa states, can hardly be supposed to be a mere
personification representing the state of slavery in which the nation
formerly existed; the name for slave in the Háusa language is báwa, not
báwu. It is, however, remarkable that this personage is said to be the
son of Karbágarí, whose name evidently implies “the taking of a town,”
and might be derived from the capture of the town of Bíram, which is
universally represented as the oldest seat of the Háusa people, a
tradition which is attested by a peculiar usage even at the present day.
This town of Bíram is situated between Kanó and Khadéja, and is often
called “Bíram-ta-ghabbes,” in order to distinguish it from a more
westerly town of the same name. Bíram, the personification of this town,
is said to have been, by his grandson, Báwu, (the son of Karbágarí), the
progenitor of the six other Háusa states (likewise personified): viz.
Kátsena and Zégzeg, who are represented as twins; Kanó and Ranó, another
pair of twins; Góber and Dáura. However, it seems almost universally
acknowledged that of all these children Dáura was the eldest.[17]
More important in a historical point of view, and confirming what has
been said above, appears to be the statement that the mother of these
children belonged to the Déggara or Díggera, a Berber tribe at present
established to the north of Múniyo, and once very powerful. Bíram,
Dáura, Góber, Kanó, Ranó, Kátsena, and Zégzeg, are the well-known
original seven Háusa states, the “Háusa bókoy” (the seven Háusa), while
seven other provinces or countries, in which the Háusa language has
spread to a great extent, although it is not the language of the
aboriginal inhabitants, are called jocosely “bánza bokoy” (the upstart,
or illegitimate); these are Zánfara, Kébbi, Núpe or Nýffi, Gwári, Yáuri,
Yóruba or Yáriba, and Korórofa.
As for the six children of Báwu, they are said to have had each his
share assigned to him by his father in the following way: Góber was
appointed the “serkí-n-yáki” (the war-chief), in order to defend his
brethren, Kanó and Ranó being made “sáraki-n-bába” (the ministers of the
“máriná,” that peculiar emblem of the industry of Háusa), and Kátsena
and Dáura “sáraki-n-káswa” (the ministers of intercourse and commerce),
while Zégzeg is said to have been obliged to provide his brethren with
those necessary instruments of social life in these regions, namely,
slaves, becoming the “serkí-n-baÿ.” Ranó, which at present has been
greatly reduced, though it is still a considerable place, situated
south-west from Kanó, was originally, like each of the other towns, the
capital of an independent territory, though not mentioned hitherto by
any traveller who has spoken of Háusa.
If we credit Leo’s description, we must conclude that when he visited
these regions, towards the end of the 15th century of our era, there was
no capital in the province of Kátsena, the whole country being inhabited
in “piccoli casali fatti a guisa di capanne.” For with respect to later
events, which happened after he had left the country, and while he was
writing his description, very imperfect information appears to have
reached him. Now, the list of the kings of Kátsena, from a remote
period, is still tolerably well preserved, together with the length of
their respective reigns; and there is no reason whatever to doubt their
general accuracy, as the history of the state has been in writing at
least since the middle of the 16th century of our era, and we have
something to control this list, and to connect it with facts gleaned
from other quarters. This regards the period of the reign of the king
Ibrahím Máji, who, as we know, lived in the time of the famous Tawáti
Mohammed ben ʿAbd el Kerím ben Maghíli, the friend and contemporary, as
I have said above[18], of the great encyclopædist Abu ’l Fadhl Jelál e’
dín ʿAbd e’ Rahmán el Khodairi e’ Soyúti, commonly known under the name
of E’ Sheikh e’ Soyúti; and his connection with the king of Kátsena we
are able to fix with tolerable certainty by his relation to the Sónghay
king Is-hák, who is said to have excited his severest indignation by
refusing to punish the people who had murdered his son in Gógó.[19] And
although we can scarcely believe that the ruin of the Sónghay empire,
and the rise of that of Kátsena, was the consequence of this holy man’s
curse, nevertheless we are justified in presuming that after he had
received offence from the king Is-hák, by being refused satisfaction, he
began to cultivate friendly relations with the king of Kátsena, a
country then rising into importance.