stream entering the Joliba from the south, so neither can it be supposed
to have stood on any tributary stream joining that river on its left or
northern bank. For why should a traveller make such a circuit as to
continue his route southwards to Kársekhó, and then ascend a stream in
order to reach a point to which he might have gone directly by land? And
besides, the left bank of the Joliba, within the limits wherein we may
reasonably look for the site of Málí, has been travelled over by Mungo
Park, who found there no tributary stream. The mention of the river
Ṣanṣarah, therefore, presents difficulties which admit of only one
explanation. A great river like the Joliba, periodically overflowing the
adjacent country, will probably form many channels, and insulate,
perhaps by permanent canals, long tracts of low land, as is exemplified
on a small scale in the course of the Medway below Chatham. Now, if we
suppose that Málí stood in a low tract, intersected by a canal of the
Joliba, called Ṣanṣarah, then Ibn Baṭúṭah’s movements may be easily
explained. That the banks of the Joliba are almost impassable in the
rainy season we know from the narrative of Park, who, being a stranger
in the country, struggled through difficulties which a native perhaps
would never have thought of encountering. But Ibn Baṭúṭah had an
experienced guide; going to Málí, therefore, at the commencement of the
rains (the end of June), he directed his course to an easily accessible
point of the Joliba, and thence proceeded to the capital by the canal:
leaving Málí in the middle of the dry season (the last day of February)
he mounted his camel and crossed the country. Moreover, we are
fortunately able to show that our hypothesis respecting the Ṣanṣarah, is
not only not unnatural nor improbable, but that it truly represents the
physical character of that part of the Joliba now under consideration,
and that there is, in fact, a canal or arm of the river in the very
place where we should expect to find the Ṣanṣarah. Mungo Park,
describing his voyage down the Joliba from Samee to Sego, says, “We
passed down a small stream to the north of Sego-korro, and halted
opposite to Sego-sikorro, near the sandhills, where I formerly waited
for a passage.” In explanation of these words, it must be observed that
Sego-korro is on the northern bank of the river; Sego-sikorro, where the
King of Bambara resided, on the southern bank. The small stream north of
Sego-korro, therefore, down which the traveller passed, (in the middle
of August, when the floods were at their height,) must have been a canal
or arm of the river insulating the ground on which Sego-korro
stood.[137] Park does not state the length of the _small stream_, nor
say whether he entered it near Samee; but these particulars are here of
little consequence, since our object is not to identify the small stream
of Park with the Ṣanṣarah of Ibn Baṭúṭah, but only to show how perfectly
our hypothesis respecting the latter harmonizes with nature and with
fact. Yet it must not be concealed that there is reason for believing
that the site of the capital of Málí was near Samee. Ibn Khaldún writes
the proper name of that capital in characters wanting, unfortunately,
the diacritic points; but these being supplied by probable conjecture,
the passage in question will run thus: “And the residence of the king of
the people of Málí is the city of _Benní_,” (or Benna).[138] A place
called Binni, of little importance, stands on the north bank of the
Joliba, about seven miles above Samee.
The sequel of Ibn Baṭúṭah’s journey shall be related in his own words,
though with some curtailment. He thus proceeds:—“We came to a wide creek
or arm of the Nile, which can be crossed only in boats, on the third
night after we left Málí. On arriving at its banks, I beheld, with
astonishment, about sixteen immense animals, which I took to be
elephants. However, when I saw them plunge into the water, I called out
to Abú Bekr Ibn Yakúb, and asked him what are these? And he replied,
‘They are river horses (Hippopotami), which come ashore to feed.’ They
are much larger than common horses, yet resemble them in their heads and
the fulness of their manes, but their feet are like those of elephants.
On another occasion, when navigating the river from Tomboktú to Kaúkaú,
I had a view of these animals. They were swimming about with their heads
above the water, and snorting. The natives attack them with javelins, to
which are attached a number of cords. If the animal be struck in the
neck or the leg, he is soon overcome, dragged to the bank, and killed.
The natives eat the flesh, and the banks of the river are strewed over
with the bones of these animals.[139]
“At this arm of the Nile we rested in a village governed by a negro
named Farbá Maghá, one of those who had accompanied Mansá Músa on his
pilgrimage. He related to us, that when Mansá Músa came to this place,
he gave to Abú-l-Abbas Aldukálí, a white man and Kadhi who attended him,
4,000 mithḳáls for the expenses of his journey. Abú-l-Abbas, however, on
arriving at Mímah, complained that his money was stolen. The King
thereupon sent for the governor, and threatened him with death, if the
money and the thief were not immediately discovered. The search seemed
at first fruitless; but on the slaves of Abú-l-Abbas being menaced and
strictly questioned, one of them, a young girl, pointed out the spot
where her master had buried the money. Mansá Músa, on hearing this,
banished the Kadhi to the country of the Unbelievers, who eat men. There
he stayed four years, before he was permitted to return; and the Blacks
did not eat him, because they say that white man’s flesh is bad meat,
being flabby and immature. And here I must relate a curious anecdote.
Some of these cannibals, led by a chief, came on a certain occasion to
the court of Mansá Suleïmán; they were clothed in silk wrappers, and had
enormous pendants in their ears, the holes in which were an inch in
diameter. The King received them with much distinction, regaled them
sumptuously, and, as a token of regard, gave them a slave girl. They
immediately killed the girl, and ate her; then, besmearing their hands
and faces with her blood, they visited the Sultan, and thanked him for
his present. In the country of these cannibals there are mines of
gold.[140]
“Leaving the village on the water side, we came to Korí Mansá, where the
camel that I was riding died. When my servant told me of this accident,
I went out to witness it with my own eyes, and there I beheld the Blacks
already devouring the carcass, their custom being to eat every kind of
dead animal. I then sent two of my followers to a town called Zagharí,
about two days’ journey from Korí Mansá, to buy me another camel. In six
days they returned, and we then took the road to Mímah. We did not enter
that town, however, but encamped outside near the wells. Thence we
arrived at Tomboktú, a city four miles distant from the Nile. Most of
its inhabitants are people of Mímah, or of the tribes called
Almolaththemún. One day I went to visit the governor, Farbá Músa, and
met at his house a Masúfí, who had just arrived in Tomboktú, to take the
command of the people of his tribe established there. The governor gave
him a robe, a turban, and pair of trowsers, all of figured cotton; and
made him sit on a shield, while the chief people of his tribe lifted him
above their heads.[141]
“At Tomboktú I embarked in a small canoe made of a single trunk of a
tree, and went down the river. We landed every night, and went to some
inhabited place to procure what we wanted,—such as oil, and other
necessaries—giving in exchange for them salt, drugs, and trinkets. We
came to a place, the name of which I have forgotten, but where Farbá
Suleïmán, a Hájí of sterling worth, was governor. He was a man of great
size and strength, and had a bow which none of the Blacks but himself
could bend. I went into his house to ask for a little durrah, and my
request being interpreted for him by a faḳíh who was present, he took me
by the hand, and led me into his principal chamber, which was filled
with arms of various kinds, shields, bows, and javelins. There was then
brought to me a drink called Aldaḳnó, prepared from bruised durrah, with
milk and honey. We then ate of a water melon; and in conclusion, a young
slave coming into the room, Farbá Suleïmán presented him to me, and I
have him at the present day.[142]
“From this place we went on to Kaúkaú, one of the largest, handsomest,
and strongest cities in all Negroland. It stands on the banks of the
Nile, and abounds in rice, milk, poultry, fish, and fruit of matchless
excellence. The people there, as well as in Málí, use shells for money.
I stayed in Kaúkaú about two months, and then went by land in the
direction of Tekaddá, with a large Káfilah of people of Ghodémis.[143]
We came into the country of the Berdámah, a Berber tribe, whose
protection and friendship are indispensable for the safety of travellers
in this region. The Berdámah are wanderers, and never remain long in one
place. Their tents are of a peculiar construction; they fix poles in the
ground, and place on them a matting of reeds; over this they form a
trellis-work of boughs of trees, and cover the frame thus constructed
with skins and cotton cloths. Their women are the prettiest and best
shaped that I have ever seen; they are as white as snow, and the fattest
in the world. Whoever wishes to have a woman of this tribe, needs only
to go to the wells near their encampments in the evening, and she will
be sure to follow him; but he must not take her further than Kaúkaú or
Aïwalátin.[144]
“We continued our march to Tekaddá, where the houses are built of red
stone; the water is coloured by running over copper ores, which impart
to it a disagreeable flavour. The people of Tekaddá sow no grain; they
are wholly devoted to trade, and live in affluence; their luxury
consisting, as in Málí and Aïwalátin, in slaves of both sexes, of whom
some classes fetch exorbitant prices. The king of Tekaddá is a Berber.
The copper taken from the mines near the town is made into small bars
about an inch and a half thick, which are exchanged for grain, meat,
fuel, and other necessaries. These bars are carried to Kúber, in the
country of the Infidels, to Rághá, and to Bornú, which is forty days’
journey from Tekaddá. The king of that country (who is named Idris)
never speaks to his subjects, unless from behind a screen or
curtain.[145]
“From Tekaddá we set forward on our march to Twát, which is seventy days
distant, and came to Káhir, which belongs to the Sultan of Karkar, and
yields sufficient pasturage. Then going three days over a waterless
desert, and fifteen through a tract uninhabited but not waterless, we
came to the place where the road to Egypt separates from that to Twat.
The water of the wells in that place being impregnated with iron, stains
linen. In ten days more we came to Dekhár, and in another month reached
Búdá, one of the largest towns of Twát.”
To the foregoing narrative a few remarks may be here advantageously
subjoined. If it be granted that Ibn Baṭúṭah, in sending to Zagharí for
a camel to replace that which died at Korí Mansá, had recourse to the
nearest town, then it follows that Mímah, one stage at least from
Tomboktú, must have been more than two stages from Korí Mansá. But this
place, in a mean position, will be nearly as far as Zagharí, or fourteen
days, from the capital of Málí. This capital must therefore have been,
at the lowest calculation, eighteen days from Tomboktú.[146]
It is worthy of attention, that, in the fourteenth century, Tomboktú was
peopled chiefly by natives of Mímah, and by the Molaththemún, the very
parties with whom Ghánah, three centuries before, had to maintain a
constant warfare. The Masúfah, the early occupants of the desert between
Sijilmésah and Ghánah, extended from Tegháza to Tomboktú, and mercenary
bands of them were at the court of Málí. But the caravan road seems to
have been their only territory; eastward they were bounded by the
Berdámah, who carried water for sale into the desert of Azawad, and
whose encampments were probably not ten days distant from Tomboktú.
There does not appear to have been any place of note between Tomboktú
and Kaúkaú; nor does Ibn Baṭúṭah say a word favourable to the
supposition that the former of these cities was in his time
intrinsically important. Kaúkaú, on the other hand, then enjoyed that
eminence among the cities of Negroland which it continued to retain for
at least four centuries.[147] The morals of the Berdámah, of Aïwalátin,
and Tekaddá, as described by Ibn Baṭúṭah, bear a close resemblance to
those characterizing Aúdaghost and Tádmekkah in earlier times, and
indicate the same fundamental conditions of society. The women of the
Berdámah, he says, were willing to follow strangers, on the implied
condition that they were not to be taken beyond Kaúkaú or Aïwalátin.
This is as much as to say, that they willingly accompanied merchants
arriving with the Káfilahs from the north-east, to a certain distance on
either of the two frequented roads; but it is remarkable that no mention
is here made of a road to any part of Houssa.
Tekaddá was seventy days from Twát, and as fifty-eight of these are
accounted for, we may conclude that Tekaddá was twelve days from Káhir,
and thirty from the place where the roads to Twát and Egypt divided
(probably near Ghát); it was also forty days from Bornú, so that its
position may be ascertained with sufficient accuracy. Leo Africanus
states, that beyond or eastward of the Desert of the Zenágah lay that of
the Zuenziga, “which extends from the neighbourhood of Tegaza eastwards,
to the borders of the Desert of Air, inhabited by the Targa (Tawárik);
and from the confines of Segelmessa, Tebelbelt, and Benigomi southwards
(south-eastwards), to the Desert of Ghir, which is opposite to the
kingdom of Guber.” It has been already shown that by Air Leo meant the
Desert of ʿAhír east of Aghades; and it seems equally certain that his
Ghir is the Káhir of Ibn Baṭúṭah.[148] The copper of Tekaddá was taken
to Bornú, Kúber (Guber), and Rághá (Raka in Yariba?); and here it is
worthy of remark, that Guber, the frontier province of Houssa towards
the desert, and the province to which native historians concede the
superiority derivable from an early intercourse with white men, was
still pagan in the fourteenth century. This fact alone would be
sufficient to prove that Houssa formed no part of the Negroland which
fell within the range of the Morabites, even if the general tenor of
their history did not contradict such an extension of their conquests;
or if the question were not decided by the authority of Ibn Khaldún, who
says expressly that “Tekaddá was behind the country of the
Morabites.”[149]
Ibn Baṭúṭah makes no allusion to the extent of the empire of Málí
towards the west or south; but he clearly indicates its limits towards
the north and east. When first mentioning the river, he describes its
course in the following terms:—“We came to the Great River, which is the
Nile, and on the banks of which stands the city of Kársekhó. Thence the
Nile descends to Kábrah and to Zághah, and the Sultans of these two
cities are tributary to the Sultan of Málí. The inhabitants of Zághah
were the first [in these countries] who embraced Mohammedism. They are
religious, and fond of learning. From Zághah the river descends to
Tomboktú; thence to Kaúkaú; thence to the district of Múlí, in the
country of the Límiyín, which terminates [in that direction] the
dominion of Málí. It goes thence to Yúfí (Núfí), one of the greatest
states in Negroland, and the Sultan of which is among the most powerful
princes of that quarter of the earth. No white man can reach that
country, for sure death awaits him from the natives before he penetrates
so far. From Yúfí the Nile descends to Nubia, the inhabitants of which
are Christians, and to Dongolah,” &c.[150]
Notwithstanding the confusion into which the writer of Ibn Baṭúṭah’s
narrative here falls, placing Zághah below Kábrah, evidently in
ignorance of the proximity of the latter place to Tomboktú, yet as we
know that Zághah was not on the part of the river which Ibn Baṭúṭah
actually navigated, viz. between Tomboktú and Kaúkaú, we may rest
satisfied that it was above Kábrah. The empire of Málí extended along
both banks of the Great River as far as Tomboktú. On the left it
stretched northward to the border of the desert and the route of the
caravans, thus comprising the territory of the ancient Ghánah. Eastward
of Tomboktú it appears to have been bounded by the river; the Berdámah
and other tribes of the desert on the left bank retaining their
independence. Kaúkaú had been annexed to the empire, but no advance made
eastwards from that place, nor had Tekaddá been as yet invaded. Below
Kaúkaú the river flowed by the district of Múlí in the country of the
Límiyín (who were on its left bank, as shall be shown hereafter), and at
that point terminated, towards the east, the empire of Málí.
The Múlí of Ibn Baṭúṭah is apparently the district called by Mohammed
Masíní Mouri (Múrí), four long days’ journey west of Sokkatú. It is said
to be mountainous and well watered; it immediately adjoins the Desert of
the Tawárik, and its inhabitants are still pagans. It is therefore the
northern limit of the negro population on the left bank of the Kowára,
or on the side of Houssa.[151]
By the possession of Múlí the people of Málí had ready ingress into the
countries whence slaves were taken, but there is no authority whatever
for the supposition that they ever extended their dominion farther
eastward; and care must be taken, therefore, not to confound the
Mandingo empire of Málí with the country called Marra or Malla, situate
on the confines of the former in the north-western part of Houssa. It
seems clearly ascertained that the north-west part of Houssa, or the
territory between Zanfara and the Kowára, is called by the natives
Marra, or by those who affect the Arab sounds, Malla. The ancient
greatness assigned to Marra in the historical traditions of the natives,
favours the opinion that it was the Melil or Malilo of the early Arab
writers. At present the name Marra is used only by the indigenous
population, and it is curious to observe that its former importance
never brought it to the ears of Clapperton or Lander. But its partial
obscurity only renders it more likely to lead to confusion; and
therefore, in order to distinguish clearly between Málí and Malla, let
it be observed, that the former of these lay on the west of the Kowára,
the latter on the east. Málí was the empire of the Mandingoes; Malla a
kingdom of Houssa. These two states approached, and may have met each
other near Múlí; but there is no positive ground for believing that they
were in any degree connected, or that the conquests of Málí ever
extended into Malla.[152]
Opposite to Múlí, or on the right bank of the Kowára, the dominion of
Málí probably extended a little southward to the borders of Bergú. Ibn
Baṭúṭah relates that Bálbá Ḳásá, the queen of Mansá Suleïmán, sent, in a
fit of displeasure, a confidential messenger to Mári Jáṭah, the King’s
nephew, instigating him to revolt, and promising to gain over the army
to his interest. Mári Jáṭah was at that time governor of Kombori.[153]
Now this name occurs in the fragments of native geographers collected by
Capt. Clapperton. It is therein stated that Kanbari (Kombori) lies north
of the River Kadúna; and again, we are told, that the river of that
country is called Kantagoora (Kotú-n-kúra). Yet the Kombori, of which
Jáṭah was governor, could not have been the country on the river of
Kotú-n-kúra, for this is beyond Múlí, where the dominion of Málí
terminated. This objection may be removed, however, by a little
attention to the comprehensiveness of the name under consideration.
Clapperton informs us that the aboriginal inhabitants of the country of
Boussa (Busá) are the negroes called Cambrie or Cumbrie (Kombori), who
still preserve their own language, and dwell in the woods on both sides
of the river, their villages extending also a long way up the Kotú-n-
kúra. From them, therefore, it is evident that the country on this river
takes the name of Kombori. But they also occupy all the islands in the
river above Busá, and are the indigenous inhabitants of the territory of
Busá, which extends eleven days’ journey northwards up the right bank of
the Kowára. They occupy, therefore, the country opposite to Múlí, where
we may accordingly place with much probability the province of Kombori
belonging to Málí.[154]
“From Múlí (says Ibn Baṭúṭah) the river descends to Yúfí (Núfí), one of
the greatest kingdoms of Negroland, but to which white men cannot
penetrate; and thence it flows to Nubia.” It would appear, from this,
that the superiority now enjoyed by the people of Núfí in arts and
industry, was already acknowledged in the fourteenth century. It is
manifest also that the system of the native geographers which converts
the Chadda into a continuation of the Kowára, by which the waters of
this great river are carried across Bornú to the Nile of Egypt, is of
some antiquity. Ibn Baṭúṭah believed that the great river below Múlí
flowed some distance to the south or south-east before it turned
eastwards to Nubia. In speaking of Kulwá (Kilwá, or Quiloa), on the
eastern coast of Africa, he uses these words:—“A merchant there told me,
that the town of Sofálah is half a month’s journey from Kulwá, and one
month from Yúfí in the country of the Límiyín, and that gold is brought
from Yúfí to Sofálah.”[155] The boldness here evinced in bringing
together and joining in commerce countries far asunder, is constantly
exhibited in the geographical speculations of an early or ill-informed
age. Distances are then enlarged as expediency requires; hypothesis
leaps over the vacant spaces, and forcibly stretches the known portions
in the opposite sides of a continent till they meet in the centre.
Illustrations of this truth may be found in all ages. During the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Abyssinia, Congo, and Monomotapa
were all supposed to meet together. One of the Jesuits resident in
Abyssinia asserts, that salt was carried from that country to
Tomboktú.[156] The reasoning which led to this statement was, in its
nature, exactly the same as that from which the Arabs inferred an
intercourse between Sofálah and Yúfí. It is not surprising, therefore,
that Ibn Baṭúṭah, who had far less accurate means of ascertaining the
true positions of the places visited by him than the Catholic
missionaries, should believe that the remote interior, whence gold was
brought to Sofálah, was occupied by the same nation who filled the
interior viewed in the opposite direction from Málí. Erroneous as this
kind of inference may be, it yet rests on ideas of direction so manifest
and unambiguous as to be of material service in explaining an author’s
meaning. It is plain, then, that Ibn Baṭúṭah thought Yúfí to lie between
Málí and Sofálah, and that the Great River from Múlí to Yúfí flowed
towards Sofálah, but beyond Yúfí turned eastwards to Nubia.
It is impossible to quit the narrative of Ibn Baṭúṭah’s travels without
making an important reflection on the extent and direction of his
journey to Negroland. We see in him an enterprising, experienced, well-
informed traveller, whose ambition it was, apparently, to explore all
the known parts of the earth; he goes from Sijilmésah across the desert
to Málí, thence to Tomboktú, and then descends the river as far as
Kaúkaú, and from Kaúkaú he turns off north-eastwards to the Desert on
his way back. Now can it be reasonably doubted that, in this tour, he
visited _the Negroland_ with which Sijilmésah had maintained an
intercourse from the earliest times, and which had been so minutely
described by El Bekrí and others? Can it be doubted that he accomplished
his proposed task in the sense in which it was understood by his
countrymen, and that the Negroland of western writers consequently lay
between the capital of Málí and Kaúkaú or Kághó? When he alludes to
Gúber as a pagan country, but says nothing of Kanó, can it be seriously
maintained that he slightingly passes over in silence the only part of
Negroland described with copious and connected details by the best Arab
writers?