XXV. RESIDENCE AT MOURZUK…

XXV. RESIDENCE AT MOURZUK

Arrival at Mourzuk; and reported as a Christian Marabout from Soudan.--Meet Angelo, who conducts me to his Master, the British Vice-Consul.--Hearty Welcome from Mr. Gagliuffi.--Detail of the Slave-Caravans of The Wady.--Read the Newspapers; Massacre of Jemâ-el-Ghazouat, and the Annexation of Texas.--Visit to the Bashaw of Mourzuk.--Visits to the Commandant of the Garrison and the Kady.--Poetical Scrap of European Antiquity.--Celebration of a Wedding.--Environs of Mourzuk.--Camera Oscura.--Mourzuk Couriers.--The Kidnapped Circassian Officer.--Old Yousef, the Renegade.--Dine with the Greek Doctor on a Carnival Day.--An Albanian's Revenge.--Greece and its Diplomatists.--Officials of Mourzuk.--An Arab's estimate of God and Mahomet.--What is Truth?--Improvements of the Commandant of the Troops.--How English Politics taste in The Desert.--Visit to the Grave of Mr. Ritchie.

22nd.--ROSE early, and got off again as well as I could, considering I had had little or nothing to eat for the last two days, and should have nothing till the evening, when we expected to reach Mourzuk. Course east and south-east. Still cold and windy. Palms scattered over all the route, from Agath to Mourzuk, but only a few of them cultivated. It was most refreshing to behold so many trees on our road, after traversing such treeless and sandy wastes. A few wells here and there, and a little corn cultivation. Arrived at Mourzuk at about 4 P.M.

I here thought of a squib which had been published in a rival paper at Malta, representing me as "The Consul of the Blacks at Mourzuk" in allusion to and satirizing my anti-slavery propensities. These things will come back to one's memory years and years after they have been forgotten. When I read the squib, I little imagined I should ever visit Mourzuk, and yet the visit could be traced readily enough as resulting from my anti-slavery labours in Malta and the Mediterranean. Mustapha stopped at the gate to make his toilet, and I lent him my barracan to make on entering the city. Moors and all Saharan travellers dress themselves up before they enter any large or particular place, when on a journey, and they wonder why I do not follow their nice tidy example. On entering Mourzuk, I suppose I looked very queer, for it was immediately reported to the Bashaw, "A Christian Marabout is arrived from Soudan." We were stopped a few minutes at the gates, to see if I had any exciseable articles. This done, I made the best of my way to the residence of Mr. Gagliuffi. On the road I casually met the Maltese servant of the Vice-Consul. His face brightened up with joyful amazement, and he shook me eagerly by the hands. Englishmen arrive here once in half a century, or rather never, which sufficiently accounts for the excitement of the Maltese. Angelo took me direct to the Consul's house, and I found Mr. Gagliuffi at the door. The Consul was as astonished to see me as his servant. He stared at me as if I had just dropped from the clouds. He had heard of my going to Ghadames, Ghat, and Soudan, but did not expect to see me one while. I need not add, Mr. Gagliuffi gave me a most hearty welcome. I found the Consul in a very fine and spacious house for oases of Desert, with "all his English[108] comforts around him," as we say. Seven months had made me forget all these things, and I was now a Saharan entering into the domains of comfortable, if not civilized, life. The appearance of Mourzuk was not very pleasing to me, the major part of its dwellings being miserable hovels. The Castle looked dirty, and tumbling down. Nevertheless, the presence of Turkish troops and officers in uniform about the streets, with a variety of people congregated from different towns and districts of Sahara, gave the place more the aspect of a city than any other town I had seen since I left Tripoli. I was extremely knocked up and unwell, and at once determined not to leave Mourzuk until my health should be restored. I found myself right as to the date of my arrival at Mourzuk, on comparing notes with Mr. Gagliuffi; but two days wrong as to the name of the day, having written down Friday instead of Sunday. As to the Moorish reckoning of Ghat and Ghadames, that was quite different from the name of the day, and the number of the day, as found in Mourzuk. Time is very badly and incorrectly kept in The Sahara.

Some few particulars must now be recorded of the slave-caravans which I left in The Wady. The united number was some one hundred and thirty slaves. Two-thirds were females, and these young women or girls. There were a few children. Necessity teaches some of the best as well as the sternest lessons. A child of three years of age rode a camel alone, and without fear. The poor little creature knew if it complained or discovered itself frightened, it would be obliged to walk through The Desert. The slaves were fed in the morning with dates, and in the evening with ghusub. Female slaves, after the style of Aheer people, pounded the ghusub in a large wooden mortar, just before cooking. But they had little to eat, and were miserably fed, except those who had the good fortune to be purchased by Haj Ibrahim. For some of these improvident stupid merchants had actually purchased slaves without the means of keeping them. On arriving at The Wady, they sent jointly, through Haj Ibrahim, to borrow a hundred dollars of the Bashaw of Mourzuk. The messenger was Mustapha. His Highness kindly enough handed him over the money. All the masters carried a whip, but this was rarely used, except to drive them along the road, when they lagged from exhaustion. Thus it was administered at times when it could least be borne, when nature was sinking from fatigue and utter weariness! and therefore was cruel and inhuman. Yet only some twenty were sick, and two died. When very ill they were lashed upon the back of the camel. Some of the young women that had become favourites of their masters experienced a little indulgence. I observed occasionally love-making going on between the slaves, and some of the boys would carry wood for the girls. My servant Said had one or two black beauties under his protection. But everything was of the most innocent and correct character. Some groups of slaves were aristocratic, and would not associate with the others. Three young females under the care of the Shereef, assumed the airs and attitude of exclusives, and would not associate with the rest. Every passion and habit of civilized, is represented in savage life. A perfect democracy, in any country and state of society, is a perfect lie, and a leveller is a brainless fool. There is also an aristocracy in crime and in virtue, in demons and in angels. The slaves are clad variously. Haj Ibrahim tried to give every one of his a blanket or barracan, more or less large. Besides this, the females had a short chemise, and a dark-blue Soudan cotton short-sleeved frock. Many had only this frock. The poor creatures suffered more from the ignorant neglect of the Touaricks than the Tripoline merchants, and their complaints and diseases usually begin with their former masters. Yet I am assured by Mr. Gagliuffi, that the Touaricks of Aheer are infinitely better and kinder masters than the Tibboo merchants of Bornou, or even many Tripolines. The Tibboos cannot bring a female child over The Desert of the tender age of six or seven, without deflowering her, whilst the Touaricks of Aheer shudder at such sensual brutality, and even bring maidens to the market of an advanced age. The brutal Tibboos besides bring their slaves quite naked, with only a bit of leather or cotton wound round their loins, whilst the Touaricks always furnish them with some little clothing.

23rd.--Felt better, but weak. The excitement produced in me by my new quarters and reading the journals, after four months elapsing since I saw the last, made all the people fancy I was already attacked with their Mourzuk fever. Mr. Gagliuffi treated me as such, and the Greek doctor was sent for, who approved of my being treated as attacked, and I took accordingly fever powders. But another night's rest restored me and I discovered no symptoms of fever, for which I could not be too thankful, as the fever nearly attacks all strangers journeying in Mourzuk. The news from Europe was exceedingly disagreeable to me, inasmuch as I read of crimes and events of a much darker shade than the things which I had seen in Desert amongst the Barbarians. The two events which arrested my attention were the massacre of five hundred French troops near Jamâ El-Ghazouat, and the annexation of Texas, as most relating to my present pursuits. The first was an evident retribution for burning alive a tribe of Arabs in the caverns of the Atlas. Some high personages in Paris deplored this massacre of their devoted and hapless countrymen, but the poor Arabs of the Atlas, the men, women, and children burnt or suffocated alive, were unpitied and unmourned[109], because they happened to be resisting the placing of a foreign yoke on their necks. Such is the high tone of our political morality in Europe! No wonder the curse of God is upon us and afflicts us with famine and cholera! The annexation of Texas, for the extension of slavery and the slave trade, I hope will at once and for ever disabuse the minds of our wild democrats, who fancy that because people call themselves republicans and establish a republican form of government, therefore they are the friends of freedom. Better had America been bound hand and foot for ever to the aristocratic tyranny of the mother country, than that she should now become, as she is, the world's palladium of Negro slavery, and the huge breeding house of slaves to endless generations! We cannot but recommend to these trans-atlantic tramplers upon the freedom and rights of man, in defiance of all divine and human laws, the following lines of Mr. James--

"Oh, let them look to where in bonds, For help their bondsmen cry-- Oh, let them look, ere British hands Wipe out that living lie.

"Veil, starry banner, veil your pride, The blood-red cross before-- Emblem of that by Jordan's side Man's freedom price that bore, No land is strong that owns a slave, Vain is it wealthy, crafty, brave."

"The slaver's boastful thirst of gain, Tends but to break his bondsman's chain."

24th.--Much better in health to-day. Sent off Said, with a man of this place, to fetch my trunk and other baggage left in The Wady. Find Mr. Gagliuffi keeps up a friendly correspondence with the Vizier of the Sheikh of Bornou. Any one going to Bornou would derive great advantage from the Vice-Consul's letters of recommendation. Mr. Gagliuffi has also considerable influence over the population of Fezzan, and is on good terms with the Mourzuk Bashaw.

25th.--Felt well enough to-day to call upon the Bashaw. His Highness's full name and title is Hasan Bashaw Belazee. I was introduced to him by Mr. Gagliuffi, who previously insisted upon sprucing me up a bit, and removing my Maraboutish appearance by getting me a new red cap or fez. My Christian hat was left at Ghadames. It was impossible to wear it in Desert or towns, for people always said I looked like a Christian devil when I wore the European black hat. We found His Highness just recovered from a month's indisposition. He received us very politely, and Mr. Gagliuffi tells me he is really a very good sort of man. His Highness gave us pipes and tea, which is becoming now a favourite beverage amongst the Moors of East, as it has long been in West Barbary, amongst all races of the Maroquines, who have introduced the fashion of tea-drinking and teetotalism at Timbuctoo. His Highness was very talkative and affable. He was amazed at my audacity in going amongst the Touaricks without a single letter of recommendation, and looks upon my arrival at Mourzuk as an escape from death to life. His Highness confessed, however, that the Touaricks are people of one word, and that, after having told me they would protect me, I did right in confiding in their honour. He added, "If you go to Aheer hereafter I will assist you all I can." Mr. Gagliuffi pretends the Bashaw has considerable influence amongst all the Touarghee tribes, and the Touaricks always follow strictly the recommendations which the Bashaw, as governor of the province of Fezzan, and a near neighbour, has taken upon himself to give them. Every person carrying a letter from His Highness to the Touaricks, has invariably been well received. His Highness is very fond of illustrating his conversation by similes, and related a little facetious palaver which he had with a Targhee of Aheer.

His Excellency thus to the Targhee:--"You always thought there was a great mountain separating you from us, protecting you from our armies. You besides always boasted of having an army of 100,000 warriors. But the other day there came to you a bee, and buzzed about your ears, and you all at once fled before the little bee. How is this? Where are your 100,000 unconquerable heroes?"

The Targhee thus to the Bashaw:--"Ah, ah, how amazing! it was just so."

H. E.--"But are you not ashamed of yourselves?"

The Targhee.--"Ah, ah, but we shall now go and fight them."

H. E.--"Well, we shall see your courage."

The Bashaw explained to us, how the Touaricks of Aheer were put to flight by the Weled Suleiman, whom he the Bashaw, and his master at Tripoli, only esteemed as so many troublesome little bees. This was the affair of the capture of the 1000 camels, when the Touaricks were carrying off the spoils of a Tibboo village, before mentioned. These Weled Suleiman have just joined the rest of the refugees under the son of Abd-El-Geleel. The Bashaw is the famous Moorish commander who captured and beheaded Abd-El-Geleel, and who has sworn to extirpate not only the family of this Sheikh, but all the tribes subjected to his son. The Bashaw received the appointment of Bey or Bashaw of Fezzan, for his hatred to this family, and his services in capturing and destroying its chief. Belazee is a fresh-coloured Moor, and rather good-looking, with a dark, piercing, and cruel eye. He is about forty years of age and very stout. Of his courage there can be no question, and his reputation as a military man is very great in all this part of Sahara. Mr. Gagliuffi had instructed me diplomatically to boast of the attentions which I had received from the Touaricks, for observed the Consul, "If you say the Touaricks did not treat you well in every respect, the Bashaw will commiserate you before your face, but laugh at you behind your back, and tell his people how happy he is (and I'm sure he will be happy) you have been well fleeced by the Touaricks, of whom the Turks here are jealous in the extreme." Mr. Gagliuffi also volunteered a diplomatic hit of another kind on his own account: "My friend, your Excellency, on entering the gates of Mourzuk, and looking up at the Castle, thought he was entering a town of the dead, it looked so horribly dingy and desolate." I said to the Consul afterwards, "Why did you say so?" He replied, "I am trying my utmost to improve the city, and want the Bashaw to whitewash the Castle. He has promised me he will do it." The Bashaw addressed me, "Think yourself lucky you have escaped, but for the future you must be placed in the hands of the Touaricks by us as a sacred deposit, and then if anything wrong happens we shall demand you of all the Touaricks by force." I thanked him for the compliment; I believe he meant what he said at the time. But such an insulting message could not be delivered to the brave, chivalric, and freeborn sons of the Touarghee deserts; they would trample your letter under their feet, or spear it with their spears.

Mr. Gagliuffi and myself then went to see the troops exercised. The commanding officer is trying to reduce them to order and discipline, and succeeds admirably. Before he arrived, great disorder reigned amongst them, and they were constantly found intoxicated in the streets. After the manœuvring, we visited the commander and his staff, who were all extremely polite. The Bashaw does not interfere with the discipline of the army. The Turks can well distinguish, if they please, between civil and military affairs. And it is wrong to consider the Turkish Government and people, like Prussia and other military nations of the north, as one great military camp. We afterwards visited the Kady, Haj Mohammed Ben Abd-Deen, an intimate friend of the Consul. He had under his care the Denham and Clapperton caravan, and is well acquainted with us English. I was surprised to find the Kady quite black, although his features were not altogether Negro. Mr. Gagliuffi says Mourzuk is the first Negro country. This statement, however, involves a very difficult question. Fezzan, Ghat, and other oases, contain many families of free Negroes, some perhaps settled formerly as merchants, and others the descendants of freed slaves. I do not think the real black population begins until we reach the Tibboos, although Ghatroun is mostly inhabited by Negroes. Certainly, the Negroes have never emigrated farther north in colonies. Mr. Gagliuffi has just received by the courier from Tripoli, several watches sent there for repair, belonging to the Sheikh of Bornou. They were given to the Sheikh by our Bornou expedition, twenty years ago. It is pleasing to see with what care the watches have been preserved in Central Africa, for they looked as good as new.

26th.--I must now consider myself recovered from indisposition. At first, people talked so much about Mourzuk fever that I thought I must have it as a matter of course, and felt some disappointment at its not attacking me. Three-fourths of the Europeans who come here invariably have the fever. I speak of the Turks. It attacks them principally in the beginning of the hot, and cold, weather, or in May and November. Fortunately, I am here in February. Mourzuk is emphatically called, like many places of Africa, Blad Elhemah--‮بلاد الحمة‬--"country of fever."

Amongst the Christian and European curiosities and antiquities which I have discovered in this Mussulman and Saharan city, is the following poetical scrap, published by myself, some four or five years ago, upon that beautiful rock of Malta, or, according to the Maltese, Fior del Mondo, "The flower of the world."

SONNET.

"Hail, verdant groves! where joy's extatic power Once gave the sultry noon a charm divine, Excelling all that Phœbus or the Nine Have told in glowing verse!--Youth's radiant hour Yet beams upon my soul,--while memory true Retraces all the past, and brings to view The magic pleasures which these groves have known, When Hope and Love, and Life itself, were new, Delights which touch the SOUL OF TASTE alone, Taught by the many and reserved for few! O! busy Memory, thou hast touched a chord Recalling images, beloved,--adored,-- While Fancy keen still wields her knife and fork, O'er roasted turkey and a chine of pork!" CLEMENTINA.

I found it flying about in one of Mr. Gagliuffi's old lumber rooms, and, being such a precious gem, I must needs reproduce it upon the page of my travels. Who is the author, and how I came by it, I cannot now tell. I only know it once adorned the columns of the "Malta Times," at a period which now seems to me an age ago.

There was a wedding to-day, and the bride was carried on the back of the camel, attended with the high honour of the frequent discharge of musketry. In order that I might likewise partake of these honours, the Arab cavaliers stopped before the Consul's house, and several times discharged their matchlocks. It was a gay, busy, bustling scene. The cavaliers afterwards proceeded to the Castle, and discharged their matchlocks, standing up on the shovel-stirrups, and firing them off at full gallop. But these cavaliers are nothing comparable to the crack horsemen of Morocco. Their horses are in a miserable condition, and they themselves ride badly. The horse does not do well in the Saharan oases. In Fezzan he is often obliged to be fed on dates, which are both heating and relaxing to the animal. Meanwhile the discharge of musketry was rattling about the city, the lady sat with the most exemplary patience on the camel (covered up, of course), in a sort of triumphal car. A troop of females were at the heels of the animal loo-looing. The ceremony stirred up the phlegm of the Turks, and delighted the Arabs.

In the evening I visited one of the gardens in the suburbs. The corn was in the ear on this, the 26th day of February. In a fortnight more they will cease their irrigation, and it will be reaped quickly afterwards. We gathered some young green peas. The flax plant is here cultivated; the fibres and dried leaves are burnt, and the seed is eaten; no other use is made of it. Two crops of everything are obtained in the year, one now, in the spring, and the other in autumn. The irrigation by which all this cultivation is produced, rain rarely ever falling, cannot be carried on during the intense and absorbing heats of summer. A couple of asses and a couple of men, or a man and a boy, do all the business of irrigation. Fezzan water is brackish generally, and the wells are about fifteen of twenty feet deep. These are in the form of great holes or pits. The more distant suburbs present beautiful forests of palms, producing a fine reviving effect upon an eye like mine, long saddened by the ungrateful aspect of a dreary desert. The atmosphere and ambient air is less pleasing to view, presenting always a light dirty red hue, as if encharged with the fine sand rising from the surface. The soil of the Fezzan oases is indeed mostly arenose, and the dates are nearly all impregnated with fine particles of sand, which takes place when they are ripe, and very much lowers their value. But this sandy soil does not sufficiently account for the eternal dirty vermilion hue of the atmosphere of Mourzuk. They say its site is very low, in the shallow of a plain, and to this cause they attribute its fever.

27th.--Health quite restored, and got up early. There are two or three round holes in the window-shutters of my bed-room; by the assistance of these, when the shutters are closed, in the way of a camera oscura, all the objects passing and repassing in the streets are most sharply and artistically drawn on the opposite wall. Here beautifully delineated I see the camels pass slowly along,--the ostriches picking and billing about, which are the scavengers of the street, instead of the pigs at Washington, (see Dickens,) and the dogs of Constantinople, (see all the tourists,)--the women fetching water,--the lounging soldiers limping by with their black thick shoes pulled on as slippers,--the slaves squatting in circles, playing in the dirt,--groups of merchants, black, yellow, and brown, bargaining and wrangling,--asses laden with wood,--the coffee-maker carrying about cups of coffee, &c., &c. Wrote letters for to-morrow's post, and very disagreeable to me, as announcing my tour broken up midway.

28th.--Post-day. The courier leaves every Saturday, but it requires nearly forty days to get the answer of a letter from Tripoli. The courier is eighteen days en route. A caravan occupies from twenty-four to thirty days. In the route of Sockna there is water nearly every day, but one or two places, the longest space three and a half, and four days. The Commander visited me again this morning, as also the Greek doctor, who calls every morning. The Major now came in. He is a young Circassian; by birth a Christian, but kidnapped and sold to the Turks. He is a very amiable young man, and deeply regrets that he was not brought up a Christian. It is high time this infamous practice of selling the Christians of the East to the Turks, was put a stop to. It is to be hoped that Russia will atone for the wrongs which she has inflicted upon Poland, and offer some compensation for the blood which she is still shedding in Circassia, by abolishing this odious system of Christian slavery through all south-eastern Europe, as in western Asia. Notwithstanding our hatred to Russia's system, and its iron-souled Grand Council, we Englishmen (I presume to speak for all), are willing and happy to do justice to Russia in the efforts which she made, and the aid she rendered the Servians, in emancipating them from the galling yoke of Mussulman bigotry and Turkish tyranny[110]. Nicholas has a noble and mighty mission before him, not to subjugate Turkey, or infringe upon the liberties of Europe, but to civilize his vast empire, and the wild countries of Northern Asia. But the Czar does not seem to understand his destiny--or the task, more probably, is beyond his power. It must be left to his successor, or happier times. This Circassian tells me he has not had the fever in Mourzuk. He thinks the city healthier than formerly, and attributes the fever to people's eating dates, and their bad living. Dates are not only the principal growth of the Fezzan oases, but the main subsistence of their inhabitants. All live on dates; men, women and children, horses, asses and camels, and sheep, fowls and dogs.

Mr. Gagliuffi gives the following statistics of the slave-traffic viâ Mourzuk from Bornou and Soudan:--

In 1843 2,200 In 1844 1,200 In 1845 1,100 ----- Total, 4,500

The two last years shows a diminution, and he thinks the trade to be on the decline. But this evidently arises from the Bornouese caravan being intercepted, or the traffic interrupted by the fugitive Arabs on the route. There has been no large caravan from Bornou for three years. And Mr. Gagliuffi considers the route at the present, so unsafe, as positively to refuse countenancing my going up to Bornou this spring. However, a couple of small slave-caravans have ventured stealthily down twice a year, conducted by Tibboos. The principal Tripoline slave-dealers who frequent Mourzuk are from Bengazi and Egypt. Slaves are besides brought occasionally from Wadai; and there is a biennial caravan from Wadai to Bengazi direct, leading to the coast a thousand and more slaves at once. Our Consul is frequently employed in administering medicine to the poor slaves, who arrive at Mourzuk from the interior, with their health broken down, and often at death's door. He makes frequent cures, but, alas! it is for the benefit of the ferocious Tibboo slave-dealer. The Consul naturally laments he cannot buy these miserable slaves, who, in this state of disease, are often offered at the market for five or six dollars each. He has no funds at his disposal, or he would procure them by some means, cure them, and give them their liberty.

This evening I called upon a Moor, an ancient renegade of the name of Yousef, who was well acquainted with all our countrymen of the Bornou expedition. His arm was set, after being broken, by Dr. Oudney, which he still exhibits as an old reminiscence of the doctor. Yousef has lately given great disgust to his good neighbours, by purchasing a new concubine slave, to whom he introduced us, notwithstanding that he has his house full of women and children. This sufficiently proves that Mohammedans discountenance the unbridled licence of filling their houses with women. One of his old female slaves, by whom Yousef has had several children, said to Mr. Gagliuffi, "I won't speak to you any more, Consul. Don't come more to this house. Why did you give my master money to buy a new slave?" The Consul protested he did not. Old Yousef laughed, and drily observed:--"When this (pointing to the new slave), is in the family way, I must purchase another wife. If I can't keep my wives myself, I must beg of my neighbours to contribute a portion of the necessary expense." Old Yousef is a thorough-going scamp of a Moor.

1st March.--Occupied in writing down the stations of the Bornou route from the mouth of one of the Sheikh's couriers. There are now two of these couriers in Mourzuk, natives of Bornou. The Sheikh corresponds with Belazee as well as with Mr. Gagliuffi. Bornouese couriers travel in pairs, lest a single one should fail if sent alone. They are mounted on camels, and it requires them forty days to make the traverse from Mourzuk to Bornou. I tired the courier pretty well with dictating to me the route. It is extremely difficult to get an African to sit down quietly and attentively an hour, and give you information. If ever so well paid, they show the greatest impatience. Afterwards paid a visit to the young Circassian officer. He related to me how he was captured. It was in the broad day, when he was quite a child, playing by a little brook, and picking up stones to throw in the water. The officer says, that in his dreams, he often sees the silvery bubbles and rings of the water rising after he had thrown the pebble into the brook; and, especially, does he see the ever-flown visions of his green and flowery pastimes of childhood, whilst he is out on duty in the open and thirsty desert, lying dozing under an intense sun, darting its beams of fire on his head. The kidnapper took him to Constantinople. His brother came up after to rescue him. But the master, to whom he was sold, terrified him, by threatening, if he should show the least wish to return, to cut him to pieces. The barbarous threat had its desired effect, and he submitted to his fate. This Circassian officer has still a hankering after Christians, and in his heart is no good Mussulman. He tries to adopt as much as possible Christian manners, and boasts of having all things like them. Such forced renegades deserve our most sincere sympathies.

Evening--Mr. Gagliuffi and myself dined with the Greek doctor. It was a carnival day with the doctor, and he prepared a befitting entertainment. An Albanian Greek dined with us, who had been brought up from Tripoli by Abd-El-Geleel, to make gunpowder for the Arab prince. When the Turks captured Mourzuk they found here the Albanian. He has nearly lost his sight, and is now charitably supported by the Doctor. We were waited upon by the Doctor's servant, an Ionian Greek, and the Maltese servant of the Consul, and so mustered six Christians, a large number for the interior of Africa. The dinner was magnificently sumptuous for this part of Africa. We had a whole lamb roasted. After dinner, its shoulder bones were clean scraped and held up to the light by the Doctor, in order to catch a glimpse of the dark future! This is an ancient superstition of the Greeks. Besides several Turkish dishes, (for the Doctor lives half Turk, half Christian,) we had salmon and Sardinians. This was the first piece of fish I had seen or eaten for seven months. It was remarked when the large caravan from Bornou comes, expected in this summer, it will certainly bring dried fish from the Lake Tschad. In Central Africa, they dry fish, as meat, without salt, and it keeps well. We had bottled stout, table wines, Malaga, rosatas, and rum. We were all of course very happy, and the Albanian sang several of his wild mountain songs. He was very merry, and, swore he was obliged to keep himself merry, because, not like other people, he had an affair which rankled in his breast. We asked him what it was. The Albanian answered, greatly excited, both with his wine and his subject, "A man killed my brother, and I have not yet been able to kill him. The vengeance of my brother's blood torments me night and day. I pray God to return to my country to kill the murderer." This Albanian is an enthusiastic Greek, and wishes and prays to see his countrymen plant again the Cross on the dome of St. Sophia. "But many of you have turned Turk," I remarked. "Yes," observed the Albanian, "many of my countrymen have turned Turk, and I, who am less than the least of them all, I have not committed this folly. I can't comprehend how they could so trample on the name of their Saviour." In short, I found the Albanian possessed of all the fire, bigotry, ferocity and vindictiveness, for which his countrymen are so celebrated. I encouraged him, and said, "The Greek kingdom ought to have its bounds a little widened." The Greek jumped up wildly at this remark, and clenching my hand, began screaming one of his patriotic airs, and cursing the Turks, so that we became all at once a seditious dinner-party, under the shade of the pale Crescent. Had we been in Paris, that pinnacle of liberty and civilization, we should all immediately have been conveyed off, without finishing our dessert and the wine which made us such patriot Greeks, to the sobering apartment of the Conciergerie. Happily we were in The Desert, under the rule of barbarians. Coletti was mentioned, but I forget what was said of him. In Jerbah, a Greek merchant protested to me, that the only way to regenerate Greece was to cut off the head of this Coletti, as well as all the present chiefs of parties. He observed "Another generation alone can regenerate Greece." The merchant added, "I should like also to hang up that Monsieur Piscatory."

It does seem a pity that diplomacy should be reduced to the most detestable intrigues, lying and duplicity, which if any other class of men were guilty of, they would be put out of the pale of society. But mankind would care little about these archpriests of falsehood, were it not for the serious consequences resulting from their works. Look at the state of Greece now, the handicraft of diplomatists! Such is the result of the good and friendly offices rendered to an infant state by these sons of the Father of Lies!

At this time there are some nine hundred Albanians in Tripoli, regular troops of the Porte, whose only occupation is lounging, lying and smoking about the streets. There were sixty or seventy Christians amongst them, but for some reason or other unexplained, the Bashaw sent them all back. The report is, the Sultan does not know what to do with these Albanians, and has sent them to Africa to decimate them. The massacreing Janissary days are past, and we have arrived at an age of the more humane policy of letting them die of fever on the burning plains of Africa. Perhaps France has recommended the Porte this policy, having found it answer so well in the experiment made on malcontent regiments in Algeria. How very humane all our European Governments are getting! How kindly they treat their poor troops! Who would not be a soldier, and fight the battles of "glorious war?" But we must return to our host, who is a very different kind of Greek. Doctors are always pacific men. The Doctor observed laconically, "I eat the bread of the Turks, and whilst I do so I must be, and I am a good Ottoman subject." Mr. Gagliuffi speaks Greek and Turkish besides Arabic and Italian, and so he is at home with all these people. It is happy for the Consul he does, for after all, Mourzuk is but a miserable dirty place, and would kill with ennui, if fever were wanting, some score of English Vice-Consuls.

2nd.--The Consul received a visit from the Adjutant-Major, Agha Suleman. The Doctor came in and was very merry with the Adjutant, who is always trying to get himself reported sick, in order that he may return to Tripoli. The Adjutant observed to me, whilst he drew himself up, made a wry face, and heaved a deep sigh, as if his last, to persuade the Doctor he was greatly suffering, "I would not go to Bornou if you were to give me 100,000 dollars." But why should he? With what sort of feeling could he go there? The spirit of discovery, which once stirred up the Arabian savans to explore Nigritia, is now totally extinct both in Arabs and Turks. I learnt some items of the pay of Officials in Mourzuk. The Bashaw has 5,000 mahboubs per annum. The Adjutant-Major has 30 dollars per mensem; the Doctor 25 dollars; and so on of the rest, the commanding officer having perhaps 50 dollars per mensem. This amount of pay is considered sufficient for expenses at Mourzuk. The officers have quarters with the Bashaw in the Castle. Mr. Gagliuffi related a characteristic anecdote of the ignorance prevailing amongst the Arabs as gross as that of Negroes. Mohammed Circus (or the Circassian) was a few years ago Bashaw of Bengazi whilst Mr. G. visited that place. The Bashaw was buying something of an Arab, and gave him but a third of its real value. Mr. G. took upon himself to say, "Why do you injure this poor man by giving him but a third of the value of his goods?" "Oh!" rejoined the Bashaw, "that is not a man, he is only a dog. Let me call him back and you shall see what he is." Immediately the Bashaw called the man back and asked him, "Who was the better, God or Mahomet?" The Arab bluntly answered, smiling with conceit, "Why do you ask me such a thing? What harm do I receive from Mahomet or what harm do others receive from our prophet? But God kills one man with a sword, hangs another, drowns another. All the evil of the world is from God, but Mahomet does nothing except good for us."

This poor ignorant fellow was filled with ideas of irresistible fate. Some Arabs and Moors ascribe only the good things to God, whilst others all things, the evil and the good. When this anecdote was being ended, a Moor came in, and being in a disputing humour, I asked him abruptly,--

"What is truth?"

"The Koran."

"Who told you the Koran is truth?"

"Mahomet."

"And who told Mahomet?"

"God."

"How do you know this?"

"Mahomet says so."

"What did Mahomet do to make you credit his word?"

"Plenty of things."

"What things?"

"Killed the infidels, sent us the camel into Africa, planted for us the date-palm, and worked many wonders."

"Is that all?"

"No, great many more things I cannot now recollect."

The camel, I think, was introduced into Africa about the third century. It is a mistake to say, Mahomet did no miracles. The people in North Africa and The Desert all relate miracles performed by Mahomet. The Prophet, however, repudiates miracles in the Koran. In Surats xiii. and xvii., in answer to miracles demanded, the Prophet replies by the knock-down argument, "All miracles are vain. Whom God directs, believes; whom he causes to err, errs." Our conversation passed to old Yousef Bashaw, whose family the Porte has deposed. Mr. Gagliuffi observed justly, and which so often happens in despotic countries, "Yousef established Tripoli and its provinces in one firm united kingdom, and in the early part of his life his power was respected and his people happy; but as the Bashaw declined in life, he again disorganized everything, and Tripoli was rent in pieces." Went to visit a member of the Divan. All these despotic Bashaws consult or prompt a mute Divan. Let us hope the Consulta lately assembled by Pius IX. will turn out something better than these mute Divans, or a Buonaparte Senate. We were treated with coffee, and milk, sour milk (or leben), but not skimmed, which is considered a great luxury, and only presented to strangers of consequence.

3rd.--We received a visit from the Bey, as he is sometimes called, the commander of the troops, who is a very sociable kind-hearted little fellow. Mr. Gagliuffi related some of the atrocities which were committed by the troops previous to the commander's arrival. They killed a woman, committed rape on a child, were never sober, and always quarrelling with the inhabitants. They are now reduced to discipline and order. One day Mohammed Effendi said to Mr. Gagliuffi, "I am always at work, either making improvements in the town or exercising the troops, but who sees me here, no one recognizes my conduct in The Desert." The Consul endeavoured to console the desponding officer by observing, God saw him, and one day would reward him for his good works. So we see, the Turks are a part of the human race after all, and could lead on their fellow-creatures in the way of improvement if their energies were properly directed. Africa could be greatly benefitted by the Turks. Even at Mourzuk they are introducing things which will soon be imitated at Bornou. Not being infidels, the same objection does not exist against their innovations as against us Christians. Even in the little matter of gloves I saw an immense difference. The officers here wear gloves, and nothing is thought of it. People do not say to them as they have said to me at Ghat and Ghadames, "You have the devil's hands." Mohammed Effendi actually went so far as to make this speech, "I shall go to England one day in order that I may learn something." The grand occupation of the Commander now is, the building of a guard-house within the city. This occupies his attention morning, noon, and night; and it certainly has a good appearance. There is not such a natty thing in Tripoli. The officer directs all the works, and is assisted occasionally by the friendly counsel of the Consul; so that a wonder of architecture will at last be reared amidst the crumbling-down places of this city of hovels.

My Said returned this afternoon, bringing the baggage from The Wady. Five more slaves of Haj Ibrahim are sick. His first slave adventure at Ghat is likely to turn out a bad speculation. Read an article or two from Blackwood's Magazine, No. CCXXX. The Consul has got a few stray numbers up The Desert. English politics read all stuff in Desert, like what a celebrated man was accustomed to say of his philosophy after dinner, "It's all nonsense or worse." So is reading English politics in this part of the world. How soon our tastes and passions change, with our change of place, and scene, and skies! An Englishman married a Malay woman at Singapore. In six years he lost all his English, nay, European feelings, and became as listless and stupid as the people whose habits and nationality he had sunken under.

Visited this evening the grave of Mr. Ritchie, who died at Mourzuk on November 20, 1819. He was buried by Capt. Lyon, his companion in African travel. The grave is placed about two hundred yards south of the Moorish burying-ground; it is raised eight or ten inches above the level of the soil, and is large, being edged round with a border of clay and small stones. We were conducted by old Yousef, who told us the Rais (Capt. Lyon) chose the site of burial between three small mounds of earth, in order that the grave might be easily distinguished hereafter. Mr. Gagliuffi, had never visited the grave before my arrival, which I proposed to him as a sacred duty that we owed to our predecessors in African travel and discovery. The Consul promises now to have the grave repaired and white-washed, and I, on my part, promise, in the event of my return to the interior, to carry with me a small tombstone, to place over the grave, with name, date, and epitaph. If there were a thorough and bonâ fide Geographical Society in England, this little attention to the memory of that distinguished man of science would have been performed long ago. But our societies are instituted to pay their officers and secretaries, and not to promote the objects for which they are ostensibly supported by the public. The Moorish cemetery close by, is a most melancholy, nay, frightfully grotesque picture. No white-shining tombs and dome-topped mausoleums, no dark cypresses waving over them and contrasting shade with light, which mournfully adorn the cemeteries of the north coast. All is the grotesque refuse of misery! Here we see sticks of palm-branches driven down at the head of the graves, which sticks are driven through old bottles, pitchers, jugs, ostrich eggs, &c., so that at a distance the burying-ground has the appearance of a dull, dirty, desolate field of household rubbish, and old crockery-ware. I did not trouble myself to ask the reason of this trumpery of trumperies, but I imagine it is to distinguish one grave from another. The cemetery of Ghadames, where nothing is seen but stones, if it be a desert-looking place, yet has not this trumpery appearance. I was glad to see the grave of Ritchie lying apart from this, though in its infidel isolation. There lies our poor countryman, alone in The Sahara! But, though without a stone or monument to mark the desert spot, still it is a memorial of the genius and enterprise of Englishmen for travel and research in the wildest, remotest regions of the globe. And, for myself, I would rather lie here, in open desert, than in the crowded London churchyard, amidst smoke, and filth, and resurrectionists, the pride and glory of our Cockney-land. Here, at least, the body rests in purity, the desert breeze, which sweeps its "dread abode" barer and barer, is not contaminated with the effluvia of a death-dealing pestilence; and though the ardent sun of Africa smites continually the lonely grave, the bones mayhap will rest undisturbed till reunited and refleshed at the loud call of the Trump of Doom! unkennelled, uncoffined by wild beast, or more ferocious man.

FOOTNOTES:

[108] Although Mr. Gagliuffi is an Austrian, a native of Trieste, he has acquired all the English ideas of comfort, and speaks excellent English.

[109] As a remarkable exception, some one or two French papers did protest against this wholesale burning alive of an Arab tribe.

[110] See Mrs. Kerr's translation of the History of Servia.

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XXVI. RESIDENCE AT MOURZUK

Mr. Gagliuffi's opinion of the Touaricks.--Amazonian White-Washers.--Visit, and take leave of the Bashaw.--Various Anecdotes related by His Highness.--Safe-conduct given to liberated Slaves in returning to their Country.--Character of the Tibboos, and particularly Tibboo Women.--Description of the Oases of Fezzan.--Leo's Account of these Oases.--Recent History of the Government of Mourzuk.--The Traitor Mukni.--Life and Character of Abd-el-Geleel.--The Civil War in Tripoli, and Usurpation of its Government by the Turks.--The Tyrant Asker Ali.--Skirmish of Hasan Belazee with the Town of Omm-Errâneb, and the Oulad Suleiman.--Retreat of the Oulad Suleiman to Bornou, and their Marauding Character.--My departure from Mourzuk with the Slave-Caravan of Haj Essnousee.--Establishment of British Consuls in The Great Desert and Central Africa.--Force of the new Slave-Caravan.

4th.--FEEL as well in health as when I left Tripoli, though housed in this city of fever. Mr. Gagliuffi has some ideas about the Touaricks which I have not acquired in Ghat. He pretends Touaricks are always afraid of their women, and are obliged to do whatsoever their wives tell them. The son never will go with his father, but always follows his mother. His father he learns to hate the more he loves his mother. The Consul does not think the Touaricks of Aheer to be so numerous as represented. The same, indeed, may be said of all the kingdoms of Africa. The principal slave or servant (factotum) of the Sultan of Aheer is now in Mourzuk, transacting business for his master. The Bashaw offered to write to the Sultan for me through this man. He is called Hiddee, and paid me a visit this morning. En-Nour, the friend of Kandarka, is only a Sheikh. Hiddee is the slave whom the Bashaw has been quizzing so severely about the mighty armies of his master.

A number of women are now occupied opposite to us in white-washing or white-claying the Guard-house, this chef-d'œuvre of Mourzuk architecture. The women alone do this work, and as their privilege. There are about thirty of them so occupied, under the command of a queen white-washer. They all tremble at the sound of her Majesty's voice. Sometimes she gives them a crack over the head with a bowl, to make them look sharp about them. The white-washers prepare the wash in the usual way, and then lade it out in small bowls, throwing a whole bowl at once at the walls, using no brush, now and then only with their hands rubbing over a place not wet with the wash. This arises from the nature of the wash, it being merely a fine brown-white clay, or a species of pipe-clay. There is no lime in the oases near: people fetch it from Sockna. For this reason the Castle is so dirty. There is attendant on the women a band of Arab musicians, to cheer them on in their work. Every man who passes by gets a piece of white-wash clay thrown at him. If it hits him he has to pay, if not he escapes. On his non-payment, when so hit, he is tabooed from the privileges which he possesses in and over women. He can have no communication with them, nor can he buy anything from them, or receive anything from their hands. If he does not pay in a few days, his fine increases with his delay. This custom prevails, and its stipulations are most religiously binding, whenever women are employed to white-wash Government houses and establishments. Once a Targhee received some money, which a woman thus employed offered to him, to entrap him. Immediately exclaimed the virago, "You cowardly rascal, instead of giving us money, you take money away from us." Then a mob of these Amazons followed him to his house, and, to save himself from being torn and scratched to pieces by the troop, he paid ten dollars, and was happy to escape so easily. The Amazonian white-washers like to have a shy at Mr. Gagliuffi or the Doctor, because they are down upon them for a good mulct or present. To save their respective dignities, Consul and Doctor take care to keep out of that quarter of the town where the work of the Amazons is going on.

We paid a visit to the Bashaw this afternoon previous to my departure to-morrow. We had tea and pipes again as before. His Highness was excessively civil, and related to me many anecdotes of the people of this part of the world, of which anecdotes and such chit-chat he is very fond. This Bashaw is a sort of chronicler of the Arabian Nights order, with the difference, that what His Highness relates are generally true stories. Mr. Gagliuffi instructed me in a little of his Desert diplomacy, and I accordingly observed, "Your Excellency must extend the Turkish rule in Sahara, and you ought to capture Ghat, for that is the centre of commerce in these parts." This was put forth as a feeler. The Bashaw deigned the following in reply:--"There was a boy left with his father, whilst the mother and wife had gone to a neighbouring village on an errand. The boy, after a sleep of three hours, awoke, and, looking about him and not seeing his mother, began to cry for her. 'Oh,' said the father, 'you have begun to cry for your mother after three minutes, you blubbering urchin; whilst I have been waiting for my wife, with the most enduring patience, these three long hours."--"So it is with me," continued the Bashaw; "you are crying for Ghat after three months' residence here, and I have been crying for Ghat these three long years. I have been waiting every year, every month and day in the year, to go and take it, or destroy it, but the Sultan sends me no orders." I noticed the Fullan boy of the Bashaw, and observed to him that I had seen very few of the Fullan slaves. The Bashaw returned, "That boy is gold to me. When I was sick, he was the only one who waited upon me unceasingly, and never left my couch. I have also a Fullan girl; her hair is as long as your women's, and reaches down to her waist." Mr. Gagliuffi afterwards told me His Highness had been some while choosing a wife, that is, a substitute for his wife who is in Tripoli, and had at last found what he liked in this Fullan girl, of whose beauty and grace he said the Bashaw boasted to him (the Consul), a thing quite unusual amongst Mohammedans. The features of this Fullan boy were very regular, black eyes and a light olive complexion. Such were Fullan slaves of our caravan; and the most recherchée of all the females, fetching the highest price, was a Fullanah girl.

His Highness related several anecdotes of the Soudanese people. Slaves are told, on leaving Soudan, that white people will kill them and eat them; but when they get here, and see themselves kindly treated, they become reconciled to slavery. In some of the Nigritian countries, when the people get old,--say seventy or eighty years of age,--their relatives and friends say to them, "Come, now you are very old, and are of no use in the world: it is better for you to go away to your fathers and to the gods. There you will be young again, eat and drink as well as ever, and be as beautiful and as strong as you ever were or can be. You will renew your young days like the young birds, and the young lions." "Very well," reply the aged decrepid creatures, "we will go." They then dress up their aged worn-out victim in his fine clothing, and make a feast. When in the midst of drums and horrible screams, during the height of the feast, they lay hold of the old man, and throw him into a large fire, and he is immediately consumed to ashes. The Bashaw did not particularize the country, but this barbarous rite has been witnessed in other parts of the world besides Africa.

The inhabitants of Wadai are a nation of drunkards. They can do nothing unless drunk. Amongst these people, the greatest mark of friendship is to present their friends with raw meat, with the bile of the liver poured on it as sauce or gravy. Wadai is in the neighbourhood of Upper Egypt and Abyssinia, and the tale reminds one of Bruce, and the live-meat eating Abyssinians. A Tibboo chief came to Mourzuk, and presented himself without introduction before His Highness, and thus harangued him:--"Oh Bey! I want to write to my son, the Bashaw of Tripoli. You must send my letter to my son." "Give it to me," said His Highness, most condescendingly. "There it is," cried the Tibboo, and flung it down at the feet of the Governor. The letter being opened, the contents ran thus:--"Son, be a good man, fear me and fear God. If you behave well, and acknowledge me as your father, I will send you three slaves and come and see you." The Tibboo was allowed to depart from the Governor as a madman.

"See," said the Bashaw to me, "how ignorant and presumptuous are these Tibboo people."

I replied, "It was always so that ignorance and pride went together, and it always will be so."

His Highness.--"Are your people so?"

"Of course, all the world is so."

The Bashaw now came to the Touaricks. "The Touaricks detest cities. When they visit us, we cannot make them sleep within the walls." I observed, they have not confidence in the people of the towns they visit. The Bashaw thought that was a hit at him, and so it was, for the Touaricks sleep within the walls of their own cities, and even inside Ghadames. I occupied a house which they had tenanted just before my arrival. Therefore His Highness jumped from the Touaricks to the Ghadamseeah:--"The Ghadamsee people are a nation of Jews. I once had to escort them. One morning when I got up I found them all in separate groups, for they detest each other's society. (The Bashaw might have observed the separation of the two hereditary factions.) They were all in disorder. I got a whip and laid it on them one after another, as they whip their slaves. The next morning they were all ready to start before I was. This is the way to treat these Jews. The curse of God is upon them. When they die nothing is found in their houses, nor gold, silver, money, or goods, not even victuals. God punishes them thus because they are a nation of Jews and slave-dealers." Belazee forgets that his government is partly supported by the slave-traffic. But the Bashaw is a man of great audacity, takes large views of things, assumes the air of lavish and magnificent pretensions, and hates the quiet, thrifty, and money-making character of the merchants of Ghadames. The Bashaw concluded his long string of anecdotes by asking me, on my return, to bring him a watch, but not to bring it if I did not intend to charge him for it, for he could not accept presents from me, since he had a fixed salary from the Sultan. He added, "I'm sorry you have not brought a letter from the Bashaw of Tripoli, for I can't show you the attention I would wish. But bring a letter when you return, and I'll write to all the princes of Africa for you." I answered, "Oh, I'll bring you a firman from the Porte, if that will do for you." At which His Highness laughed heartily.

Whatever ferocity of disposition Hasan Belazee may have shown in the decapitation of Abd-El-Geleeh, he certainly knows how to be polite and show hospitality to strangers. The British Consul-General tried to get him removed from Mourzuk, with the tyrant, Asker Ali, from Tripoli, but Belazee was the only man who could keep this province tranquil, and the trade with the coast uninterrupted. Mr. Gagliuffi tells me, as a proof of the Bashaw's influence in the interior, that His Highness wrote to the Touaricks of Aheer and Ghat to allow liberated slaves to return unmolested to their country, as an act acceptable to God, seeing the poor slaves had been liberated by their pious Mussulman masters, who invoked upon them the blessing of the Almighty on the day of their liberation. And it is said, that, in no case, when a freed slave took a letter from the Bashaw, did the slave fail to reach his native country. How different this Desert morality to that of the villanous Americans, who glory in recapturing freed slaves, or hanging them up by Lynch Law--and those poor men have bought their freedom by the sweat of their brow! The Bashaw is also strong amongst the Tibboos, who are generally an immoral race of Africans. These Tibboos attacked a merchant of Tripoli and plundered him near their country. His Highness immediately clapped all the Tibboos then at Mourzuk in prison, until the merchant's goods were restored, and he himself brought safe to Mourzuk. Since this strong measure, the Tibboos have plundered no more Tripoline merchants.

Mr. Gagliuffi pointed out several Tibboos to me in the town, and amongst the rest one who called himself a Sultan. This chief came the other day to the Consul and thus addressed him:--

"My wife is coming here. I'm so glad. She is such a good wife. Oh, so good!"

"Why is she a good wife?" inquired the Consul.

"Oh, she has killed two women; first the daughter, then the mother; wretches who wanted to kill her. Isn't that a good wife?"

The Tibboo women secrete knives about them, as the Italian and Spanish ladies conceal the stiletto in their garters. It does not come within my province to describe the Tibboos, but I may say briefly of the social condition of those tribes, in that country it is "Man and his Mistress," and not "Woman and her Master." The Tibboo ladies do not even allow a husband to enter his own home without sending word previously to announce himself. A Tibboo lady once explained this matter in Mourzuk. "Why," said the Tibbooess, "should I not have two or three husbands, as well as my husband two or three wives? Are not we women as good as men? Of course, I don't wish my husband to surprise me enjoying myself with my lovers." It is a notorious fact, that when the salt caravans go from Aheer to Bilma, the whole villages are cleared of the men, the Tibboo men escaping to the neighbouring mountains with provisions for a month. In the meanwhile, the Tibboo women and the strangers are left to themselves. The women transact all the trade of salt, and manage alone their household affairs. The Tibboo women, indeed, are everything, and their men nothing--idling and lounging away their time, and kicked about by their wives as so many useless drones of society. The women maintain the men as a race of stallions, and not from any love for them; but to preserve the Tibboo nation from extinction.

A brief description of the oases of Fezzan may be given, beginning with Mourzuk, (‮مرزوق‬). The capital is placed in 25° 54′ N. Lat., and 14° 12′ E. of Greenwich. It is a walled city, contained within the circumference of about three miles, having a population of about 3,500 souls. The area of the site was reduced to a third, on the south side, by Abd-El-Geleel, for the convenience of defence, when he held it against the Turks. On the west, is the Castle of the Bashaw, forming a separate division or quarter from the town. The Castle, which consists of many buildings and court-yards, contains the barracks. The town is formed of one large broad street, opening into a spacious square before the Castle, and several smaller narrower streets. Since the occupation of the Turks, many improvements have been made. A new mosque has been built, and a guard-house is being finished for the troops in town. Two or three coffee-houses and new shops have been fitted up, and the progress of building improvements continues. Mourzuk has three gates. The houses are mostly built of sun-dried bricks, cemented with mud, very little stone and no lime being found in the environs. Altogether it is a clean place, for an interior African city. The suburbs already have been noticed, where in the gardens wheat, barley, ghusub, ghafouly, the flax plant, common vegetables and flowers, a few roses and jessamines, are cultivated, with the noble date-palm overshadowing all. Every garden has its well, or wells. Sweet water is scarce. The spring crops are six weeks in advance of those in Tripoli. The Bashaw, on my taking leave of His Highness, presented me with a handful of ripe barley to bring to Tripoli, as a rarity. One bushel or measure of seed-corn produces from twenty-four to twenty-eight bushels. A greater quantity of corn could be easily produced in all the oases. A man and boy with an ass can cultivate corn enough in a season to subsist three or four families during six months. There are two seasons and two crops. But the gardens near the city offer no features of beautiful vegetation. At a distance there are much finer specimens of Saharan cultivation.

The government of Mourzuk consists of a Bashaw, ostensibly assisted by a Divan of six persons, to whom is joined the Kady. Besides a Kady in this city, there are four Kadys in the rest of the province. The garrison consists of five hundred and fifty men and boys, about one-third only of whom are Turks, the rest being Arabs and Moors. Of the whole force, one hundred and fifty are cavalry. There is besides an irregular corps of a hundred Arab horse. The superior officers, including the commander-in-chief, are all Turks. The medical officer is a Greek. The Porte has very few Turkish doctors. The medical officer at Tripoli was the late Dickson, an Englishman. This inconsiderable force is sufficient to maintain all the oases in tranquillity, and defend them from the hostile tribes.

The commerce of Mourzuk is at a low ebb on account of the rival Touarick city of Ghat, and especially from the disturbed state of the Bornou route during the last few years. However, there are caravans between Cairo and Mourzuk, which never frequent Tripoli. Many British and Levant goods come by this route, which are not brought by the ordinary route from Tripoli.

Saharan merchants divide Central Africa or Nigritia, into three divisions, according to the marts and routes of the interior commerce, viz.: Bornou, with which Mourzuk has the most direct relations; Soudan, or Bur-el-Abeed, ("Land of Slaves"), with which Ghat and Ghadames have direct and most frequent communications; and, finally, Timbuctoo, with which Ghat and Ghadames have likewise always relations. But Morocco is the country in North Africa which has the most constant relations with Timbuctoo; so much so, that in past times, the Emperors pretended to exercise sovereignty over this mysterious city of the banks of the Niger.

As before mentioned, Mourzuk is not healthy[111]. The Greek doctor calls the fever "febre terziane" (Ital.), apparently the ordinary intermittent fever, or perhaps the tertian ague, with local peculiarities. It usually begins in April and continues all summer. It recommences in October, and persons attacked in this month are sick during the whole of the month. About two per cent. die if they have medical assistance, but, without this assistance, a great number die. After it, comes the bile, "gastrica bigliosa." (Ital.) This disease has also fatal consequences. The simple fever is often accompanied, when it presents itself, with worms; it then changes to intermittent fever, and if it does not, is usually fatal. Persons not cured of the fever often become dropsical. There are a few cases of consumption. Syphilis is very virulent, and prevails amongst the troops. Ophthalmia and rheumatism are common complaints. Thus Mourzuk is not quite one of those oases, or Hesperian gardens, where the happy residents quaff the elixir of immortal health and virtue. Contrarily, it is a sink of vice and disease within, and a sere foliage of palms and vegetation without, overhung with an ever forbidding sky, of dull red haziness.

The Turkish system of laxity of morals, as exhibited in all their garrison towns, has full force, free course, and scope in Mourzuk, beginning as an example with His Highness the Bashaw, and descending to the lowest soldiers. Yet they say, it was infinitely worse before the present commanding officer had charge of the troops. The officers have no legitimate wives, nor, of course the privates. The women of Mourzuk are therefore necessarily of bold aspect and depraved manners. All the lower classes of females are usually unveiled, and will commit acts of immodesty anywhere. In general these women are constantly being divorced and taking new husbands. In such a depraved state of society, love and affection are consequently unknown,

Here never--

"Love his gold shafts employs;"

Never here--

"Waves his purple wings."

Mr. Gagliuffi thought one of the greatest obstacles to the suppression of the slave-trade was the facility which it afforded Moorish and Arab merchants to indulge in sensual amours. Although a merchant would get no profit by his long and dreary journeys over Desert, he would still carry it on for the sake of indulging in the lower passions of his nature. A slave dealer will convey a score or two of female slaves from Mourzuk to Tripoli, and change the unhappy objects of his brutal lust every night. This is, he considers, the summum bonum of human existence, and to obtain it, he will continue this nefarious trade, without the smallest gain, or prospect of gain, and die a beggar when his vile passions become extinct. "What is life without a slave?" says The Desert voluptuary. "Better to die than have no slaves!" But there are exceptions. A young lad is placed by his uncle, who lives in Tripoli, under the care of the Consul. His uncle wrote to the Consul, "To tell the lad, to send no more slaves to Tripoli, to abandon the traffic altogether," adding, in his letter, "In future, God deliver us from this shameful traffic!" But the Consul previously had written to the uncle that he would not take the boy under his care if he trafficked in slaves. Notwithstanding all this, some few Saharan merchants there are who really detest this traffic, and its attendant immoralities. Such I have found in my later peregrinations through North Africa.

Fezzan, as vulgarly computed, is said to contain one hundred and one towns and villages, or inhabited oases. The districts are, 1st. Mourzuk, the capital; 2nd. East side, including Hofrah, Shargheeah, and Foghah; 3rd. North side, Sebhah, Bounanees, Jofrah, and Shaty; 4th. West side, Wady Sharghee, Wady Ghurby, and Wady Atbah; 5th. South side, Ghatroun. This division embraces twelve principal towns, where there are resident Kaeds. All the lesser towns have their subordinate Kaeds or Sheikhs. It will be seen that Sockna is not included in this enumeration, and it is not usually considered a part of the government of Fezzan. Of the rest, and all the towns, Zuela is the more interesting for its antiquities. Formerly the capital, as well as Germa, it was colonized by the Romans. Zuela contains some ancient inscriptions, and not long ago two store-rooms were discovered, full of indigo, supposed to have been a portion of the ancient commerce of the interior. Zuela is the principal town of the division of Shargheeah, or The East.

To the natural productions of Fezzan, already enumerated, may be added, the Trona[112], or "Sal Natrone" of Tripoline merchants. It is procured from the bottom of the lakes when the water evaporates during the summer season. Besides its use of being masticated in Barbary, it is exported to Europe in considerable quantities, for the manufacture of glass. A little gum-arabic is procured hereabouts, and the quantity is increasing.

Leo Africanus gives the following account of these oases, which, joining those of the Tibboos, connect almost in a straight line Northern with Central Africa:--

"Fezzen è similmente una grande abitazione, nella quale sono di grossi castelli e di gran casali, tutti abitati da un ricco popolo si di possessioni, como di danari; perciocchè sono ne' confini di Agadez e del diserto di Libia che confina con lo Egitto; ed è discosto dal Cairo circa a sessanta giornate; nè pel diserto altra abitazione si truova, che Augela che' é nel diserto di Libia. Fezzen è dominata da un signore che è come primario del popolo, il quale tutta la rendita del paese dispensa nel comun beneficio, pagando certo tributo a' vicini Arabi. Similmente in cotal paese è molta penuria di pane e di carne; e si mangia carne di camello, la quale è tuttavia carissima."--(Sixth Part, chap. Liii.)

Formerly Fezzan was exceedingly rich and populous, but now it is become impoverished to the last degree, and many of its largest district populations are reduced to the starvation-point. Its inhabited oases would produce an infinitely greater amount of the materials of existence, if moderately cultivated, whilst many oases, once smiling paradisal spots in Desert, are altogether abandoned. The few merchants who have any money are those of Sockna, but which town, as before mentioned, does not properly belong to Fezzan, though its relations with these oases are intimate. Before the Turks and Abd-El-Geleel, Fezzan was governed by its own native Sultans, whose family was of the Shereefs of Morocco. But about thirty years ago one Mukhanee, or Mukni[113], as he is commonly called, entered into conspiracy with the Bashaw of Tripoli to seize the government of the native princes, who were thus deposed, and the usurped government continued in the hands of the Bashaw and his creatures, until it was seized in turn by the brave and enterprising Arab chieftain, Abd-El-Geleel. The immediate ancestors of this Sheikh were destroyed by old Yousef Bashaw, amongst whom Saif Nasser, grandfather of the Sheikh, and the head of the Oulad Suleiman, was a celebrated warrior. These chiefs and their tribes occupied the shores of the Syrtis (Sert ‮سرت‬), and were originally from Morocco. They might claim some connexion with the deposed Shereefian government. When all his ancestors, and especially his grandfather, Saif-Nasser, were butchered by the exterminating policy of Yousef Bashaw, Abd-El-Geleel, then a boy, was saved,--as an instrument of future vengeance in the hands of Providence--by the secret interference of the women of the Bashaw's family. As the boy, however, grew up, he could not fail to excite the suspicions of the Bashaw, for the old hoary-headed assassin saw in him, not darkly or dimly, the sword which was being drawn by avenging Heaven to cut off his family root and branch, perhaps his own head, and break up for ever his blood-cemented kingdom. These suspicions of a guilty conscience came at length to such a pitch, that the day arrived when the innocent youth was to be strangled, so snatching violently away the instrument of vengeance from the hands of inexorable justice! But, on that very day, the Bashaw received intelligence of a threatened invasion from Mehemet Ali, and old Yousef knew this aspiring young warrior to be the only man who could unite the scattered and disaffected tribes of the Syrtis, and repel the invasion. Abd-El-Geleel was therefore forthwith dispatched to muster the Arabs, and make all things ready to meet the invading enemy. However, the alarms of invasion soon died away, and the young Sheikh was sent up to the province of Fezzan to quell some insurrection of the Arabs.

But finding himself surrounded continually with suspicious agents and cut-throat spies, who might in a moment compass his assassination, whilst the Arabs en route were ripe for revolt, the wary Sheikh at once raised the standard of rebellion, and took possession, successively, of the town of Benioleed, the mountainous district of Gharian, the Syrtis, and the province of Fezzan, all which he held nine years with the style and power of a Sultan. Then the day of his fate also began to hasten on. The old Bashaw's family, polluted with the most cruel and odious crimes, fell by its own intestine divisions, ending in a civil war, which war was closed by the usurpation of the Turks. Abd-El-Geleel was now called upon to submit to the Sultan of Constantinople, a new and a more formidable master. The Sheikh refused submission, and declared and carried on war with the Turks. At length, however, his intrepid brother, Saif Nasser, was killed in battle, and the Sultan-Sheikh became dispirited, lost his courage and presence of mind. Abd-El-Geleel madly surrendered himself, at the instigation of his own Sheikhs, who betrayed him to the Turks, and Belazee, the present Bashaw of Fezzan, who commanded the troops against him, on hearing of his voluntary surrender, sent word that the Arab prince was not to be brought alive into the camp. He was then instantly decapitated! This cruel assassination took place in 1842. The whole of the usurped districts held by the prince, now returned to the power of the Turks.

Asker Ali, the blood-thirsty tyrant then governing Tripoli, on hearing of this intelligence was drunk with joy. His insolence to the British Consul-General knew no bounds. The tyrant even boasted openly, that God would give into his hands his two other enemies, the British Consul-General, and the Vice-Consul of Mourzuk! The tyrant was fond of dipping in astrology and reading fate, and he was once surprised by his ministers, reading the certain destruction of these last two of his remaining enemies in a small portion of sand. The consequence of all this open violence naturally was his instant recal, Sir Stratford Canning threatening the Porte that, if it delayed his recal more than one hour, a British squadron would depose the tyrant, and replace him by another Bashaw. The ancient Bey of Bengazi, an exile in Malta, and one of the Caramanly family, or of the old Moorish dynasty of Bashaws, would have replaced Asker Ali. This tyrant, like all tyrants, on receiving his recal, was unmanned, and became weaker than a child, for the performance of acts of the darkest cruelty and the most arrant cowardice, are quite compatible. The tyrant Asker Ali shed tears! on leaving the country, where he had exercised the most atrocious cruelties. However, he was fated to execute one act of justice, in the style of the Turk, against the betrayers of Abd-El-Geleel; for the tyrant strangled all the subordinate Arab chieftains who had conspired against their master, and delivered him into the hands of the Turks,--the just vengeance of heaven against traitors. Asker Ali returned to Constantinople, and as is the custom now-a-days, the Porte, imitating the recent policy of the French Government, which Government, whenever it disavows its agents, decorates them as a matter of course,--so that to be, or get decorated, is to do something contrary to international law and justice,--following such a good and honest maxim, such a discovery in the science of diplomacy, I repeat, the Porte, in its sympathy, immediately conferred on the tyrant a new Pashalic. Thence, after a short time, Asker Ali continuing his horrible trade of official murder, consulting his book of fate and atoms of sand, and hanging up the good subjects of the Porte "without judge or jury," got again recalled; and I have not heard more of this miscreant Pasha. Asker Ali is a bright jewel of native Ottoman ferocity.

The Chief Abd-El-Geleel figures in the Slave-Trade Reports of Tripoli, 1843, as an abolitionist. But, according to M. Subtil, he was only bamboozling Col. Warrington[114]. This Subtil also pretends the chieftain was more inclined to French than English interests. Such a statement is probably a calumny of the sulphur-exploring adventurer in Tripoli, and was made to get himself popularity in France, or to help his schemes of Tripoli speculations. At any rate, it rests solely upon his very dubious authority. The Arab prince lost all by attempting too much. He reversed the maxim of "attempt much, and you will get a little." An arrangement was offered to the Sheikh, by which, on paying a contribution of 25,000 dollars per annum, and acknowledging the sovereignty of the Grand Signior, the usurped districts should be confirmed to him, and hereditarily to his family. But, like the ten thousand military chieftains, soldiers of fortune, who have gone before him, whose faith saw their star always in the ascendant, he sighed for Tripoli, and its Bashaw's Castle, and lost all.

The son of Abd-el-Geleel, on the assassination of his father, took the advice of Col. Warrington, and emigrated to Bornou, whose Sultan being of Arab extraction, received the emigrant hospitably as a brother, and assigned the unfortunate prince and his scattered followers, a district on the confines of Bornou, between the Tibboos and his own empire. Since then, the exiled prince has received a great accession of strength by a numerous reinforcement of the Oulad Suleiman, and is now strong enough himself to defend his newly acquired territory, should the Sultan of Bornou at any time be won over by the intrigues of the Turks, to cancel his concession of lands and attempt to expel the refugees. This movement of the Oulad Suleiman is connected with the further military exploits of Hasan Belazee.

About a twelvemonth ago, the inhabitants of the village of Omm-Errâneb ("mother of hares"), took it into their heads to revolt, and upon some frivolous pretext seized their neighbours' camels, as an intimation to the Bashaw of their seditious intentions. It is certain, however, from what followed in the course of events, that their revolt was concerted with the Oulad Suleiman. The villagers of Omm-Errâneb had not the shadow of excuse for their revolt, for they paid no contributions to the Bashaw, and merely acknowledged the Porte. This town is walled and consists of about two hundred houses, and at the time of the war had a population of some eight hundred souls, entirely Arab, but of the people only three hundred were armed. The Bashaw of Fezzan went out himself against the rebels, although extremely unwell, captured their city, and destroyed about one hundred and twenty of them. The Arab townsmen fought from house to house with the most determined bravery, obstinately retiring through their town from one gate to the other. The Bashaw would have slaughtered more of them, but he had no men to intercept their egress at the opposite gate of the town. His Highness lost only eight Turks and eight Arabs in the capture of this place. On the next day, to the astonishment of all, about six hundred of the Oulad Suleiman came up from the Syrtis, all fully armed, having left their families some two days' distance. The first thing they did was to capture a convoy of sick and wounded, in charge of the Greek Doctor, all of whom they immediately butchered in cold blood, with the one exception of the Doctor.

The account which the Doctor gives of his capture and escape is sufficiently characteristic.

The Assailant.--"May your father and mother be cursed, and your wife prostituted, you dog of a Turk!" (raising the sword to strike him).

The Supplicant.--"Oh! have mercy upon me, I'm a doctor," (falling on his knees).

An Arab, aside.--"Strike! strike! he lies."

The Assailant.--"May all your children beg their bread, and the curse of God be upon them!" (seizing him by the turban to cut off his head).

The Supplicant.--"Oh! have mercy upon me, I'm the brother of the English Consul at Mourzuk, your friend."

The Arab, aside.--"Hold! hold! let him go."

But the Doctor did not get off until he had emptied his pockets of his dollars. In this way only he rendered his supplications effectual.

In warfare, both Turks and Greeks have been in the habit of taking what money they possess with them, to redeem them from slavery if captured, or for any other available purpose in the case of defeat[115]. The Oulad Suleiman then attacked the Bashaw with extreme ferocity, and His Highness was in great danger. He was so unwell at the time that he could not sit upon his horse. But, when the troops began to waver, the officers took the Bashaw and set him upon his horse to show him to the soldiers. The sight of the veteran commander rallied their sinking courage. His Highness had just strength enough to hold up his sword and point to the enemy, on seeing which his troops rushed on impetuously, and obtained a complete victory over the Arabs. The Arabs were, however, only dispersed a moment, and were allowed to reunite their scattered bands and pursue tranquilly their way to Bornou, to the prince of their tribe. All the fugitives of the Omm-Errâneb accompanied them. On their march up, they ruthlessly sacked all the villages of Fezzan and the Tibboos, and arrived at the quarters of their compatriots laden with booty. The Bashaw returned weary and exhausted, having no sufficient force to follow up the pursuit of the Oulad Suleiman, whose march was that of conquerors rather than fugitives. Indeed, the Bashaw was glad enough of their retreat to Bornou. Whilst this fighting was going on, the greatest confusion reigned at Mourzuk, and many of the wealthy inhabitants deposited their money and valuables in the house of the English Consul, for to add to their miseries, some malicious persons had reported the capture of the Bashaw, with all his army. It is probable the Turks are exceedingly well satisfied with the emigration of these restless and indomitable Oulad Suleiman. There cannot be a doubt of their being devoted to the English, but they are of difficult treatment for us. At the present time, they are dispersed in marauding parties on the route of Bornou, and were even an English tourist to fall into their hands, he might be maltreated before he was recognized as a British subject, and as such received the protection of their prince. This was the main difficulty which prevented my going up to Bornou.

It would seem, however, the Oulad Suleiman are getting tired of the burning climate and fevers of Bornou, and are sighing for the cool airs and healthy breezes of the shores of Syrtis, with the refreshing sight of the dark-blue waters of the Mediterranean. For on my return to Tripoli, I found the British Consul in negotiation with the Bashaw to procure their return to the Syrtis: of which since I have heard nothing. The Bashaw told the Consul they must write to the Sultan for pardon. The negotiation was placed in the hands of Mr. Gagliuffi, of whom they are passionately fond, and in whom they have the most implicit confidence. These malcontent Arabs were, of course, on friendly terms with the Touaricks of Ghat, as every attempt to resist the consolidation of the power of the Porte in Tripoli is viewed favourably by the Touaricks. But the marauding of the Oulad Suleiman in the interior, and the interruption of the commerce of Bornou, ill requite the asylum and hospitality afforded them by its Sultan, and for the sake of the commerce of The Sahara, the sooner they are back again to the Syrtis the better.

5th.--Rose early to write and prepare for my departure to Tripoli. Called on the Turkish officers to take leave. One and all observed, "Before you were going to h----, now you are going to heaven," alluding to my projected tour to Soudan. I was not of this opinion; for, after months and months in my dreams, night-dreams and waking-dreams, having acted over in my imagination all the dangers and privations of The Desert, and seen all the wonders of the mysterious regions of Nigritia, I set about my departure from Mourzuk with a heavy heart, lamenting my ill-starred luck and failure, seeing my mission abruptly cut off midway in its accomplishment. Mr. Gagliuffi arranged for my returning to Tripoli with the slave-caravan of Haj Essnousee, whom the reader will be pleased not to confound with my friend Essnousee of Ghadames, who had gone on to Soudan with the return caravan. Haj Essnousee had accompanying him two or three other traders, all of whom were natives of Sockna. Their slaves had not come from Ghat, but had been brought three months ago by the Tibboos from Bornou.

I left Mourzuk late in the afternoon. I had heard the melancholy song of the slaves departing in the morning. I had now to overtake them this evening. Mr. Gagliuffi and the Doctor accompanied me outside the gates, and the Consul's Moorish servant conducted me to the first night's encampment, both of us riding horses. I do not regret turning off the direct route to Tripoli, and visiting Mourzuk before my return. For here I obtained a better idea of the Upper Provinces of Tripoli, and I am greatly indebted to the Vice-Consul for his assistance in my researches. I must acknowledge likewise the kind attentions of the Doctor and the Turkish officers. I bade Mr. Gagliuffi an affectionate farewell, who answered with the plain earnest old English of "God bless you!" I left the Consul in but indifferent health. Three times has he had the fever, yet he is determined to keep up to the last. When Mr. Gagliuffi first went to Mourzuk, he expected that Abd-El-Geleel, whose agent he was, as well as having the appointment of British Vice-Consul, would have been confirmed in his authority. But this Chief's assassination left the Consul to struggle against formidable difficulties, and Mr. Gagliuffi was obliged to apply to the British Government for pecuniary assistance, which has been tardily granted.

The appointment of Mr. Gagliuffi has fully answered all the objects originally projected. The traffic in slaves is well watched on this route, and reported upon. The Vice-Consul exercises a beneficial influence on the affairs of Mourzuk, and is useful both to the governing power and the governed. The population of Fezzan have great faith in the integrity of Mr. Gagliuffi as agent of the British Government. The Consul assists them in various ways. Some twenty months ago he lent the people of Mourzuk money to meet the tribute demanded from them by the Government of Tripoli. His relations with Bornou have already been mentioned. The Vizier of the Sheikh lately, on his return from a pilgrimage to Mecca, stopped at the Consul's house, and Mr. Gagliuffi transacted all his business. Most strangers go to the Consul, in preference to the Ottoman authorities, or the people of the town. A great Maroquine Marabout came this way from Mecca, and deposited all his money, whilst in Mourzuk, in the hands of the Consul. The people were jealous that a Marabout should trust a Christian in preference to themselves, and remonstrated with the Marabout, who very drily replied to them, "You are not of the Faithful: you are all robbers. I am obliged to trust this Christian."

Unquestionably the establishment of English Consuls and Vice-Consuls throughout The Desert, and all the great cities of the Interior of Africa, would be an immense benefit to humanity, whilst it would equally promote British trade and interests, and the commerce of the entire world. One day, in happier times, there may be a Minister wise enough and bold enough to undertake this great enterprize, and to make this application of our resources, which eventually would be no sacrifice, for the benefit of all mankind. It will, however, require sacrifices from individuals as well as from Government, for a residence in The Desert or Central Africa is no consular retreat, or diplomatic lounge for an invalid Minister. But if any sacrifice be made for foreign nations and countries, it surely should be made for Africa, on whose unhappy children we as a nation, in past times, have inflicted such enormous wrongs.

I shall only give one instance of the positive and material benefit which the people of Fezzan have derived from the establishment of the British Consul at Mourzuk. Mr. Gagliuffi induced the people to cultivate the tholh for collecting gums. Fifty cantars were collected the first year, and last year some two hundred. The whole of the population are now seized with a fit of gum-collecting, but they are not yet expert at making the incisions in the trees. In the course of time it will be a most profitable article of export for the people. This gum now sells for 10 or 12 mahboubs the cantar in Tripoli. Such has been entirely the "good work" of the English Consul.

We stopped at one of Mr. Gagliuffi's gardens to get some sweet water. This was a very nice plantation of palms overshadowing crops of corn. The Consul has several of these gardens, but all of a limited size. After sunset, we found the encampment at Terzah. It consisted of three merchants and their servants, about sixty slaves, most of whom were young women and girls, and twelve camels. Felt cold during the night--in fact caught cold, and not very well. Ought to have a tent. Said very happy in the prospect of returning to Tripoli, and as usual immediately made friends amongst the male and female slaves.

FOOTNOTES:

[111] Our former tourists say: "The opinion of everybody, Arabs, Tripolines, and our predecessors (Mr. Ritchie and Captain Lyon), were unanimous as to the insalubrity of its air." And "Every one of us, some in a greater or less degree, had been seriously disordered; and amongst the inhabitants themselves, anything like a healthy-looking person was a rarity." Denham observes also that to account for the sickliness of Mourzuk was a very difficult matter, and required a wiser head than his.

[112] Trona, ‮الطرون‬, and ‮ترونه‬ "Carbonate of Soda." The great Trona lake is near Germa or Garama.

[113] ‮مُخني‬

[114] See "Histoire d'Abd-el-Geleel, Sultan de Fezzan, assassiné en 1842." Revue de L'Orient, Sept., 1844.

[115] The Doctor afterwards recovered his money, the Arab who captured him having fallen in the skirmish.

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XXVII. FROM MOURZUK TO SOCKNA

Well of Esh-Shour.--Village of Dillaim.--Tying up a Female Slave to the Camel.--Village of Gudwah.--Well of Bel-Kashee Faree.--Melancholy Songs of the Slaves.--Reflections on the Slave Trade; Christian Republicans, and the Scottish Free Kirk.--Well of Mukni.--El-Bab.--She-Camels with Foals.--How American Consuls justify Slavery.--Arrival at Sebhah, and description of the People.--Cruelty of a Moorish Boy to the young Female Slaves.--Prohibited Food in matters of Religion.--The Taste of a Locust.--Anecdotes related by the Bashaw of Mourzuk and Mr. Gagliuffi.--Divinations of the Tyrant Asker Ali.--Continual delays.--Altercation with a Moor about Religion.--The Songs of the Female Slaves interpreted.--Version of Mr. Whittier, the American Poet.--The Amor Patriæ of the Negroes.--Primitive Style of playing Draughts.--Games and Wine prohibited by the Koran.--Sebhah, a City of the Dead.--Oases and extent of the Sebhah district.--Fezzanee Palms bear Fruit without Water.--Town of Timhanah.--Bad Odour of the Turks in these Oases.--Essnousee, an atrocious Slave Driver.--Stroke of a Scorpion.

6th.--ROSE early, and made a long day. Passed a few dwarf wild palms. Country about here is mostly sandy, and in hollow flats. Encamped by the well of Esh-Shour. Our course east and north-east. We passed by the small village of Dillaim. One of the Moors travelling with us said to me, "Oh, master, how could you think of going to Soudan! How you would have suffered!" I returned, "No noble enterprizes are achieved without great mental and bodily suffering." This remark impressed him in my favour, and we continued great friends all the route to Tripoli.

This morning Haj Essnousee, being on foot, called out for his camel to stop, in a tone which denoted he had some important business on hand. I turned to see what was the matter, and so did all, as if something peculiar was about to happen. I then saw Essnousee bringing up a slave girl about a dozen years of age, pulling her violently along. When he got her up to the camel, he took a small cord and began tying it round her neck. Afterwards, bethinking himself of something, he tied the cord round the wrist of her right arm. This done, Essnousee drove the camel on. In a few minutes she fell down, and the slave-master, seeing her fallen down, and a man attempting to raise her up, cried out, "Let her alone, cursed be your father! you dog." The wretched girl was then dragged on the ground over the sharp stones, being fastened by her wrist, but she never cried or uttered a word of complaint. Her legs now becoming lacerated and bleeding profusely, she was lifted up by Essnousee's Arabs. She then, however, continued to hold on, the rope being also bound round her body so as to help her along. Thus she was dragged, limping and tumbling down, and crippled all the day, which was a very long day's journey. Whether she feigned sickness, or sulked, or was exhausted, I leave the reader to judge. Neither I nor her cruel master could tell. Indeed, such is the nature of the Negro character it is impossible to tell. A slave may sulk, and may not; whilst also ill and dying, they may be flogged on the point of death, as Haj Ibrahim flagellated his dying victim. No doubt, at times these wretched slaves, when worn down and exhausted, play some innocent tricks to get a ride. Nevertheless, such is the power of sullen insensibility which slaves can command, that the brutal masters may flog them to death without finding out whether they are really ill, or only sulky.

7th.--On our return from a difficult journey, everything is, or appears to be easy. We think little or nothing of it, especially if we have got with us a new supply of matters of equipment and provisions. So I rose early with the most profound indifference of the month's journey before me, as if travelling in old England, and I must likewise add, with less anxiety for the safety of my baggage. Desert baggage-stealers there are indeed none, and pickpockets and pilferers are as rare as the birds, which now and then are seen hopping about the wells, picking up what they can chance to find.

Our course is north, over an undulating sandy soil. About 11 A.M. we had in view Ghudwah, and in an hour more we reached the village. Ghudwah is a cluster of wretched mud hovels, rendered tolerable by being placed amidst a wood of palms. The squalor of these humble dwellings is, in truth, forgotten amongst the patches of beautiful green corn, some already in the ear, and the graceful, towering, all-over-hanging palm-trees. In a wady on the left were also forests of palms. The oases of Fezzan are, in fact, but a series of these palm forests. Unquestionably a great body of water must be under and near the surface. But we must keep to the designation of oases in describing the province of Fezzan, of which we had a convincing proof this morning; for, during four or five hours we traversed a country in every respect desert, covered with small black stones, defying all attempts at cultivation, and this desert land apparently surrounds and intersects the entire series of the oases of Fezzan.

When we got clear of Ghudwah we halted for the day, about 2 P.M., near a well called Bel-Kashee-Faree. I was glad to halt, both for the sake of the slaves, and myself. To-day the same girl was not tied to the camel, but a younger one. She also, poor thing, was dragged along, limping as she went, and whenever she stopped a moment to tie up her sandals, she had the greatest difficulty to reach again the camel. I was annoyed to see none of her sister-slaves give her a lift and help her on to get up to the camel, so that she might continue to be assisted by its march. Some of the poor things, however, have their intimate friends in their fellow bondswomen. The girl dragged on yesterday, had her faithful companion, bringing her water and dates. But in spite of all their sufferings, the poor bondswomen keep up well. The young women sing and sometimes dance on the road, while the boys ape the Turkish soldiers whom they had seen exercise in Mourzuk, walking in file, holding up sticks on their shoulders, and crying out "Shoulder arms!" or words to that effect. The guileless lads of Africa think these two magic words to be the quintessence of Turkish and European civilization, and that which renders the white men superior to their sable fathers. Two of the boys are dressed in old soldiers' jackets and look very droll. So we journey along as well as we can.

But whilst surveying the march of this troop of human cattle for the market, I can't but think how dreadful a trade is this of buying and selling our fellow creatures! The Moors and Arabs of the ghafalah are civil enough. They discover great curiosity at seeing me write, and not a little surprise, like all I have met with, to find me writing Arabic, whilst some of themselves cannot. They are all of Sockna.

It is now near sunset, but I am not going to write a description of a Saharan sunset, which this evening offers nothing but sheets of bright yellow flame. Towards the east, the palms, underwood, and herbage make me fancy myself in the midst of a boundless circle of cultivation, for I see no "darksome desert" through the pale skyey openings of the thick verdure. My feelings thus would be soothed and gratified, were it not that the sounds--always to me so melancholy--of the Negroes' song, as they clap their hands and sing and dance their native sports, are heard near my encampment. Then again I feel happy in the reflection that God gives moments of joyous happiness even to slaves. Why not be soothed to hear this song of slaves? What a mysterious thing is Providence! Not to the masters of these slaves, who are now stretched in dreamy listlessness on the ground, gives God such jocund innocent delights; not to the wiser and wisest, to the stronger or strongest, (as "the battle is not to the strong,") gives God happiness; but to the poorest, weakest of mortals, the forlorn, helpless female slave! As I have mentioned, I heard this same song--to me so melancholy and disheartening--as the slaves were departing from Mourzuk. I was then quietly writing, but as the mournful accents broke on my ear, I started from my usual propriety of feeling, and the courage which carried me over The Desert gave away under the pressure of these strange Nigritian sounds of the poor black children, the desolate daughters of the banks of the mysterious Niger. The tears rushed to my eyes, but I stopped them in their lachrymal sluices, and called it folly, for to weep I cannot, I will not. Rather let me curse the slave-dealers of every land and clime. Yes, let this foolish sensibility be turned to exasperation; let me curse those proud Republicans, in whose heart there is no flesh, whose flag bears impiously against Heaven the stripes and the scars of the slaves! These I cursed, and those who in the hypocrisy of their souls, and their sanctimonious pretensions to Church freedom, received the gold tainted with the blood of the slave, to build up their Free Kirk! But why curse? What impotence! Why not leave the avenging bolt of wrath to that God, who "hath made of one blood all the nations of men, for to dwell on all the face of the earth?"

8th.--Rose at sunrise and started with the day. Route north and north-west, over an undulating gravelly plain. A few tholh trees, and one solitary tholh by the road-side, which at a great distance forms a very conspicuous object. A single tree in The Desert always excites more interest in the mind of the reflective traveller than a forest. Solitary palms are often seen near the coast. At noon, reached the well called Beer Mukhanee, after the distinguished traitor, who dug it, but who betrayed and ruined this country. Many a tyrant and traitor has left behind him some monument of utility, to relieve the weight of his infamous name with posterity. The well is very deep and the water good, but we did not take in any, as wells are frequent hereabouts. Continued our course until sunset, a long day, and encamped at the base of a small mountain, called Babān, or "Two Doors," and by others, El-Bab, or "The Door." The Door and the Gate, like the famous "Iron Gate" in Algeria, are frequent names of rocky hills and mountains in this part of Africa. Ghaljeewan, a mountainous district of the south-eastern part of Aheer, is called "the door of Aheer." On the Danube there is a reef of ugly and huge rocks, over which the current of the river dashes furiously. The Turks call this "The Iron Gate" of the Danube.

On the road the camels had no herbage to eat. Some of them ate the dried dung of camels and horses. We have a young camel with us about four months old; it continues to suck. It has no frolic or fun in its actions, and is as serious as its mother. The foal of the camel frolics in awkward antics a few days after its birth, but apparently soon loses all its infant mirth. In the first place, the foal has to walk as long a day as its mother, enough to take all the fun out of the poor little thing; then, it sees all its more aged companions very serious and melancholy, and soon imbibes their sombre spirit, assuming their slow solemn gait. The mother-camel never licks or shows any particular fondness for its young beyond opening her legs for the foal to suck. At best, the camel, as an animal, is a most ungainly and unlovely creature. What surprises me most are the bites of the male-camel. He bites his neighbour, without passion or any apparent provocation, and simply because he has nothing else to do en route, or nothing arrests his attention.

To write in the open Desert is no sinecure. When I go under the shade from the sun the wind blows unpityingly, when in the sun the flies torment me. Our grand slave-driver Haj Essnousee, is most determinedly bent on showing himself a perfect master in his profession. This afternoon he set to work beating one poor girl most shockingly for not keeping up with the rest. Nearly all got whipped along to-day. Gave a ride to one little fellow, hardly five years of age, who limped sadly. There was no sulk in him. He was cheerful with all his sufferings. Our road is strewn with chumps of petrified wood.

Was thinking to-day, for whilst travelling with slaves the subject is most disagreeably pressed upon you, even to nausea, of the reasons offered by American Consuls in vindication of slavery in the United States. Mr. P----thus apologized:--"I once spoke to a male slave who earned plenty of money. I said, 'Do you want to be freed?' 'Oh no,' he replied, 'I get fifty dollars a month. I give my master forty and keep ten for myself. Why should I wish to be free?'" Mr. M---- said to me one day, "My wife has slaves, but they are well taken care of. They each have two new suits of clothes per year, and the doctor's bill for each comes to two or three dollars also per year." To such miserable drivelling as this are men, of some education and standing in society, and the representatives of the free as well as the slave States, driven to bolster up the nefarious system of holding in bondage their fellow creatures! In the one case, a man robs his brother of the rightful fruits of his labour. This robbery is perpetrated coolly and deliberately through a series of years. In the other case, the taking care of a slave, as every humane man must take care of his horse, and give him good beans, hay, and a warm stable, is made the corner stone of "the living lie" of liberty on the southern transatlantic plains.

9th.--Rose with the sun, throwing his orient beams of gold athwart all the plain, and purpling the rocky block of El-Bab. I mounted the rock, and saw Sebhah in the north, where we were to rest in the afternoon. There was a huge stone balancing on a ledge of the rock, which apparently wanted but a feather's weight to throw it down. Bent on mischief, I was going to heave it down, when the people called to me to desist. On descending, they told me the stone had fallen from the clouds and caught there; it was unlucky to touch it. A demon sits upon it every night and swings himself as a child is swung in a swing. Continued our route over a sandy plain, until we arrived at a line of palms stretching east and west, as far as the eye could see. At 11 A.M., we entered the suburbs of the town. After a little rest I went to see what sort of a place it was. Found it a tolerably well-built place; the houses are constructed of stone and mud-mortar; some have even got a touch of lime or pipe-clay wash. Several of the streets are covered in at the top like those of Ghadames. Very few people stirring about, being occupied in the suburban gardens. Fell in with a cobbler, a tailor, and an old pedagogue with an ABC board. Discussed the politics of the place with them all. They took me at first for a Turkish Rais coming from Mourzuk. When they found I was not a Turk, they began to abuse the Turks. "The Turks," said they, "take all our money and leave us nothing to eat but dates. The curse of God be upon them!" Whenever Turkish officers stop here they levy contributions. The town is walled in with mud and stone-work, and there are several towers around it forming part of the wall, pierced with loopholes for firing musketry therefrom. Most of these towns are built for protecting the people against the Arabs, who can do nothing against a wall, even were it only a brick thick. One small piece of cannon would be enough to batter down every one of these Saharan-fortified towns. A part of this town is placed on a small hill, like Ghat. Sebhah has a dull dingy appearance at a distance. There is no lime-wash to give it that agreeable aspect which many Moorish towns have, although always very delusive when one enters their gates.

This forenoon, a slave-girl was sadly goaded along. An Arab boy of about the same age was her goad, who was whipping her and goading her along with a sharp piece of wood. Sometimes the young rascal would poke up her person. I could not see this without interfering, although I am afraid to interfere. She had got far behind, and the boy was thus tormenting her like a young imp. I made him take one hand, and I the other. But we could not get her up to the camel on which she might lay hold by means of a rope, and so get dragged along. We then set her upon a donkey, but she was too unwell to ride, and fell off several times, the cruel rogue of a boy beating her every time she fell. What annoyed me more, her companions in bondage, those hearty and well, set up a loud yell of laughter every time she fell off. I'm sick at heart of writing these shocking details. But the reader will not be surprised that the Moors make bad slave-masters, when they have such an early training as this little reprobate boy, the nephew of Haj Essnousee. I often wondered how this boy, who was some thirteen years of age, and fully capable of the sentiment of love, in a climate like Africa, could torment these poor girls of his own age with such brutality. If he found one lagging behind, and at some distance from the grown-up men, he would strip her, throw her down, and begin tormenting her in the way I have already mentioned. I spoke to his uncle about it, but without avail. I then refused to carry on my camel some choice dates, which he had in his charge for Tripoli. But it was of no use, the boy was the worthy pupil of his uncle, a little fiend of ferocity.

My Sockna companions of travel chat with me, but their conversation offers nothing new or remarkable. "There is no money in Fezzan. Our city (Sockna) only has a few merchants. Mukhanee was originally a merchant, and a member of the Divan of Mourzuk. He ruined Fezzan." One of the people of this place said to me, "Better if you were a Mussulman, and ate and drank like us." I replied, "I eat everything good, and never fast to make myself ill." This plain speech amazed them. But one said, somewhat to my surprise, "That only which is not good, and not fit to eat, is haram (prohibited)." I immediately said "Amen" to this, for generally the Moors maintain that pork and other things of the kind prohibited, are not good because they are prohibited, and not on account of any intrinsic badness in the things themselves. They, of course, asked me what sort of places were England and London. It's little use to answer such questions; they cannot realize the idea or forms of an European city, even in imagination. Describing the riches of London, one observed ill-naturedly, "Oh, God gives the infidels peace in this world, and fire in the next." I then thought it time to leave off my description. Whilst we were chatting, a locust was caught and roasted. I tasted it, and found it not a bad shrimp. The locust requires salt and oil to make it palatable. The Arabs swear the locusts have a king, which perfectly agrees with--Καὶ ἔχουσιν ἐ φ' αὐτῶν βασιλέα: (Rev. ix. 11.) The name given to this insect monarch as perfectly corresponds with their migratory devastations, Απολλυων, "destroyer," for before their march are smiling fields of verdure and fruitfulness, whilst behind them are desert and devastation.

I find in this part of my journal several anecdotes of the Bashaw of Mourzuk and Mr. Gagliuffi, which seem to have come to my recollection en route. The Tibboo chief before mentioned, whose jurisdiction extends over a wretched village, observed one day to the Bashaw, "The Sultan of the Tibboos (himself) inquires after the health of the Sultan of the Turks. But I am well, therefore the Sultan of the Turks is well; and if I am not well, then the Sultan of the Turks is not well." His Excellency replied, menacingly, "You're right, but take care you don't get unwell, for by G--d if you do get unwell, and so make my Sultan unwell, I'll come and cut all your people's throats, and burn down your city." The Tibboo chief, feeling the force of the argumentum ad hominem, started out of the audience-chamber in a fright, and made off from Mourzuk as quick as possible. Before, indeed, he could get off, he began to fancy himself ill, and was ill with fright, and expected every moment to be within the clutches of the Bashaw. I related to the Bashaw the story of the Governor of Ghat, having the sword of his ancestors amongst the trophies at Constantinople. The facetious Bashaw observed to me:--"You ought to have said, 'I'll fetch you the sword, Haj Ahmed, if you'll promise like a good little boy not to cut your fingers with it.'"

Mr. Gagliuffi was well acquainted with the tyrant Asker Ali. The tyrant once dreamt he should kill Abd-El-Geleel, and his brother, and some other chiefs, but one would escape. The escaping Sheikh was Ghoma, now an exile at Trebisonde. This dream was actually related and retailed in Tripoli two years before the events happened. One day Mr. Gagliuffi called on the tyrant, and found him very thoughtful divining in the rumel ("sand"). "What's the matter?" asked the Consul. His Highness exclaimed, "Oh, I'm much troubled. An Arab chief has come here professing allegiance to my government. But he's a great villain, for such I have found him in the sand." The next day the unfortunate Arab was assassinated. Many an honest man was murdered by the fortuitous throw and fall, and scattering of these atom sands, in the cruel fingers of the tyrant. Who will deny after this that the events of our life are (to us) so many accidents? A Touarghee Sheikh once proposed to Mr. Gagliuffi to sell his country to the Sultan of the English. The Consul, who took this as serious, ought to have considered it a joke of the grave Touarghee. The Touaricks can tell the most funny stories, and make the most cutting gibes at their neighbours, without moving a single muscle of the face.

10th.--We are to stay here to-day and to-morrow, in order that our slave-masters may obtain provisions. These people can do nothing without losing an enormous quantity of time. It breaks my heart to lose so much precious time. I could have got up to Soudan before I shall get down to Tripoli. A Touarghee once talked to me of travelling, and on my telling him I was going to The East, to the New World (America), and many other places, he exclaimed, "Allah Akbar, thou fool, thy life isn't long enough." And certainly it would not were we to travel at the rate of our Saharans. They never measure a man's life and what he can do in it. The day present, and its evils, is with them enough. The proverb quoted by the great teacher of Christianity, "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," is much better adapted to ancient than modern society, or rather to Oriental and African than European society. The European is obliged to think of the morrow, and take thought for the morrow, or he would not be able to live; in these days of restless and overpowering competition he would die of starvation. One of the Moors tried to write the name of Mahomet in Roman letters. I have seen several Moors attempt this; one did it pretty well.

At noon, had a strong altercation with a Moor of the town about religion, who introduced the subject and was very insulting. Being out of the hands of the Touaricks I have less delicacy on these matters, and so I boldly contradicted his notions. I told him, with all frankness, "It was impossible for a good Christian ever to become a Mussulman: a bad Christian might, one who had robbed, or murdered, or run away from his country. Such were the Spaniards who run away from the prisons of exile in Morocco. Mahomet witnessed that Jesus was a true prophet; and Jesus witnessed that Moses was a prophet, and Moses prophesied of Jesus. But neither Jesus, nor Moses, nor any other prophet, witnessed to the truth of the mission of Mahomet." This amazed him excessively. Seeing this, I added, "Never attempt to convert a Christian, or speak to him about religion; for in the end you are sure to be dissatisfied." The zealot immediately changed the conversation. Several of the people of the town listened to our argument, but they made no observation, except one old man, who observed laconically, "Mahometans, Jews, and Christians, are all rogues; but God is merciful." This, I think, is about the truth.

This evening the female slaves were unusually merry and excited in singing, and I had the curiosity to ask Said what they were singing about. As several spoke the language of his own country, Mandara and Bornou, he had no difficulty in answering the question. I had often asked the Moors about the merry songs and plaintive dirges of the negresses, but could never get a satisfactory answer.

Said replied at first, "Oh, they're singing of Rubbee (God)."

"What do you mean?" I rejoined impatiently.

"Oh, don't you know," he continued; "they ask God to give them the Atkah[116]."

I.--"Is that all?"

Said.--"No; they say, 'Where are we going to? The world is large, O God! Where are we going? O God! Shall we return again to our country?'"

I.--"Is that all, what else?"

Said.--"They call to their remembrance their own country and say, 'Bornou was a pleasant country, full of all good things, but this is a bad country and we are miserable, and are ready to sink down.'"

I.--"Do they say anything more?"

Said.--"No, they repeat these words over and over again, and add, 'O God! give us our âtkah, let us go to our dear home.'"

I am not surprised the Moors never gave me a satisfactory answer respecting the songs said and sung by their slaves. Who can assert that the above words are not an appropriate song? What could have been more congenially adapted to their present woeful condition? And what language could have given us a more favourable opinion of the feeling and intellect of the African? May pitying Heaven hear the prayers of these poor creatures, give them their liberty, restore them to their country! It is not to be wondered at, these poor bondswomen should cheer up their hearts with words and sentiments like these; but, oftentimes, their sufferings were too great for them to strike up this melancholy dirge, and the silence of the dreadful Desert was many days unsubdued, uninterrupted by these mournful strains!

I take this opportunity of noticing the several love ditties and songs about gallant chiefs and warriors returning from battle, the lovers of the sable maidens, attributed to these poor female slaves en route over The Desert, as found in some books of travel, which, I believe, are the invention of slave-masters, embellished by the traveller. No; their song is, and was, and always will be, because the spontaneous voice of distressed nature, appealing to the justice and help of the Author of all being!

"O God! give us our freedom. Where are we going? The world is large and terrifies us.

"Shall we return again to our dear homes, where we lived happily and enjoyed every blessing?

"But we are in a horrible country; all things frown upon us; we suffer, and are ready to die.

"O God! give us our freedom[117]."

Mr. J. G. Whittier, the distinguished American poet, has rendered these words into verse. He says:--

"The following is an attempt to versify this melancholy appeal of distressed human nature to the help and justice of God. Nothing can be added to its simple pathos.

SONG OF THE SLAVES IN THE DESERT.

Where are we going? Where are we going? Where are we going, Rubee? Hear us! Save us! Make us free; Send our Atka down from thee! Here the Ghiblee wind is blowing, Strange and large the world is growing! Tell us, Rubee, where are we going? Where are we going, Rubee?

Bornou! Bornou! Where is Bornou? Where are we going, Rubee? Bornou-land was rich and good, Wells of water, fields of food; Bornou-land we see no longer, Here we thirst, and here we hunger, Here the Moor man smites in anger; Where are we going, Rubee?

Where are we going? Where are we going? Hear us, save us, Rubee! Moons of marches from our eyes, Bornou-land behind us lies; Hot the desert wind is blowing, Wild the waves of sand are flowing! Hear us! tell us, Where are we going? Where are we going, Rubee?"

Some freed slaves passed to-day on their return to Bornou, their native land. This reminded me of what Mr. Gagliuffi related respecting a female slave, who, after being brought to Mourzuk, was taken back by her master to Bornou. When her master first told her of his intention, she simply replied, "No, you will not take me back." She always persisted in the same reply, when the subject was ever mentioned. At length the time came, and she was mounted on a camel and started off. But her master, on returning, having changed the first part of the route from that which he came, her suspicions and unbelief were at once confirmed. However, a few days elapsed and the old route was resumed, and seeing, at last, from various indications of the road that she was really returning, she burst into convulsions of joy, and with no ordinary care her life was saved. She never properly recovered from the effect of these convulsions of transport. What can be stronger than such feelings of amor patriæ, what more marked proof of intelligent sensibility, allying the negro with the whole human, race? For,

"Lives there a man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, 'This is my own, my native land.'"

If Dr. Pritchard's argument be good in religion, by the existence of which sentiment in the breast of every portion of humankind he proves that all men are of one species, and of one original race or stock, the argument is equally true of patriotism. I have found, however, some Moors, like some of our philosophers, denying the Negro to be of the same race as the white man. But such Mahometan detractors of the Negro character are extremely rare. The greatest champion of this class was a slave-dealer, and, indeed, it is a convenient opinion for men-stealers of every nation.

The Moors have a primitive way of making a draught-board. A person of the town brought an apron full of sand. This he threw upon a stone bench, and spread it over, making a number of holes for the white and black squares of the board. This done, they then brought a certain number of pieces of stones with a corresponding number of dried balls of camel's dung, (and which, it may be remarked, are very small in comparison to the size of the animal). The whole was now complete and the parties set to work. All the Islamites whom I have seen are passionately fond of gaming and games of chance; and, curious enough, thousands who could not be prevailed upon to drink wine (or eat pork), will game all day long, notwithstanding that gaming is prohibited in the very sentences of the Koran, in which wine is condemned. "They will ask thee (Mahomet) concerning wine and lots. Answer.--In both there is great sin." "Satan seeketh to sow dissension and hatred amongst you, by means of wine and lots," &c. (Surat ii. and v.) How the commentators have quieted the consciences of the Faithful on the point of lots and not about wine, I cannot imagine. Such is the absolute folly of matters of this sort, the "clean" and the "unclean" in religion.

11th.--The sky is overcast this morning, and, what a wonder! we have had a few precious drops of rain. Rain, like gold, is valuable according to circumstances. Wind from N.W. No heat is now felt here. Sebhah is the very abode of dead men, the catacombs of the living. Here, at mid-day, you might sit in the lonely streets, and lecture on the immortality of the soul, to the few people, who, at long intervals, pass flitting by, like spectres of the dead. The melancholy appearance of the place so horrifies me that I don't go into it. When and where the inhabitants rendezvous and gossip is a complete mystery. To the palms and huts of palm-leaves without the town, I return, to convince myself I am in the land of the living. Visited some of the suburban gardens. Irrigation is the support of all vegetable life here. People were employed in weeding the corn-fields; besides the weeds, they picked up the small blades of corn, those not likely to be ripe with the rest of the crop, which are given to the sheep and horses. I have seen, however, no horses here. It is reported amongst the people of the town, that the Touaricks attacked me and took away all my money. As this continues to spread amongst the oases, I shall soon be murdered by the helping imagination of the people, at any rate, before I arrive at Tripoli. A gardener tells me, many palms grow and bear fruit without being watered, or having any water running under them.

The Sebhah district embraces four villages besides its town, viz., Ghortah, Hajrah, Marwees, and Hafat. The population are Moors and Arabs mixed occasionally with Negro blood; but no black population begins at these or the oases hereabouts, as foolishly stated on the map of Capt. Lyon.

12th.--We leave to-day to pursue our journey. Oh, what is life! In the wilderness or the abode of civilization, it is one weary way: but soon, thank God! to end. This morning I was convinced, that, however bad the condition of a people may be, it may still be worse. A poor wretched woman of Sebhah came to beg dates from the slaves! from their scanty allowance. As it mostly happens, the poor give more than the rich in proportion to their means, so these poor slaves gave the beggar woman a most disproportioned quantity of their miserable allowance. A little vanity there may have been in this, for however badly off we are ourselves, we are not displeased to see some people still worse off, and are gratified in laying them under some miserable obligation. Left Sebhah about 8 A.M., and after three hours' ride came in view of a forest of date-palms. This wood of palms is out of the line of route, and extends from Sebhah to Timhanah, a day's journey. Essnousee observed, on arriving at the palms, "See, these are all young palms, lately planted; they are never watered but bear plenty of dates. It is only in Fezzan the palms bring dates without water." Our route is north, and, as before, over an undulating gravelly surface. Several heaps of stones in a part of the road, evidently to clear it, as it is next to impossible to miss the way in this part of Sahara. No stones were added to these heaps by us. Our precursors, in past times, were much more attentive to clearing routes than ourselves.

I am sorry to record the nasty feelings of the people of these Fezzanee towns towards Christians. I found the people a most inhospitable set, and could not get from them a drop of milk for love or money. As, however, they sent plenty of prepared food every evening to the people of the ghafalah, Essnousee was kind enough to give me a dish or two. I attribute this inhospitality to their hatred of the Turks, and the English being considered as the friends of the Turks.

Reached Timhanah at 3 P.M. I was grievously attacked with the tooth and ear-ache, produced by the strong cold wind which had been blowing nearly all day. Got some rum and doctored myself, and by sunset I was enabled to read a little of my Greek Testament. I did not go into the town of Timhanah, being so disgusted with the people of Sebhah. Apparently Timhanah is half the size of Sebhah, and walled with mud and stones. The country around offers the usual prospect of palms and patches of corn cultivation, with wells in each field for irrigation. These oases are most annoyingly alike, and one description must serve for all. The inhabitants fancy I am a Turk, and ask me to speak Turkish. Others shun me as such; and since the Turks, in passing these oases, levy upon the inhabitants hospitality by force, this may be the cause of the little good feeling manifested by them to strangers. Essnousee, for whom I am beginning to entertain the most intense disgust, amused himself this evening with most unmercifully beating his slaves. I could not find out the cause. The females usually catch it most. I cannot tell the reason, except it be, they are more difficult to reduce to a regimen, or system of travelling, and are always fond of playing some innocent pranks. The lively things certainly make more noise and botheration than the males. We are to purchase dates here, they being cheap and of good quality. The townspeople come to see me write, but I lose patience with them, knowing them to be such a nasty set. Bad rulers make bad subjects. The Turks would make any people suspicious and inhospitable. However, when I left the place, some of them came forward to lend a hand in loading the camel, a mark of friendship, which showed me they would be hospitable if their hospitality were not abused by the Turks. To my surprise, this morning a lad of our ghafalah was struck by a scorpion. I did not expect to see scorpions this time of the year. The scorpion was killed instantly. It was a small one, and its stroke feeble, for the lad complained very little, and I heard no more of the matter. In the Apocalypse, locusts are represented as striking a man like scorpions, although they are by nature harmless, so far as wounding humankind is concerned. It is well to observe, the Saharan people always speak of scorpions as not stinging but striking a man, the verb used being ‮ضرب‬, "to beat," "to strike." So in chap. ix. 5, it is said, καὶ ὁ βασανισμὸς αὐτων ὡς βασανισμὸς σχορπίου, ὄταν παίδῃ ἄνθρωπον ("and their torment [i. e., inflicted by locusts] was as the torment of a scorpion, when he striketh a man").

FOOTNOTES:

[116] Atkah is the freedom document. On the liberation of a slave, this is signed by the Kady, in the presence of two witnesses. A freed slave has it generally about him. But after he is known, and has resided long in one place, it is no longer thought of. When a batch of slaves are liberated on the death of their master, they follow him to his burial, carrying the âtkah tied at the top of long rods.

[117] The prayer to God is a chorus sung by the whole troop. When not fatigued, and in good health, the Negresses will sing from morning to night.

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XXVIII. FROM MOURZUK TO SOCKNA

Continued delays.--Confidence of the Slaves in the Kafer (myself).--Supply them with Water.--Negro Youths exhibit Sham-Fighting.--Commissions recorded in Journal.--Missionary Labour in Central Africa.--Beer Tagheetah.--Palms of Ghurmeedah.--A Fezzanee's description of his Country.--Reading on the Camel's Back.--Arrive at the Village of Zeghen.--French Patent Soup.--Young Camels broken in.--Omm El-Abeed.--Essnousee sermonizes on "What is Good in this World."--Various Races of Fezzan.--My extreme exhaustion.--The Flogging of the Mandara Slave by Essnousee.--Illusions of Desert Sands.--Plateau magnifying objects.--Horrid Waste.--How restored from Fatigue.--Digging a Well by the order of the Turks.--Slaves benighted.--Gibel Asoud.--Well of Ghotfah.--Meet Reinforcements of Arab Cavalry.--Arrival at Sockna.

13th.--TO-DAY we came but a short distance, leaving late and encamping about half-past 2 P.M. Our object is to allow the camels to feed well, for there will now be little or no herbage for them until we arrive at Sockna, a distance of some six days. Respecting all these delays, I can say with the most heartfelt sincerity, "Here is the patience of (travellers)." The poor slaves know by instinct the encampment of the Kafer to be a friendly one, notwithstanding the Moors and Arabs persist ungenerously in teaching these poor things to call me kafer, or infidel, and to look upon me with a species of horror. For water, they come to us continually. To deposit a little bazeen, or flour-pudding, in the evening until the morning, they come to us, finding it secure in our hands. Not to be beaten, they come to us, crouching down by me, and getting out of the way of the whip behind my back. In this way the poor things show their confidence in the man whom their masters teach them to look upon as an enemy of God! Although the wells are numerous, only a certain supply of water is carried, and a small quantity is served out to the slaves. They frequently require a little water before the time of departing arrives, and come to me, looking up wistfully, putting their fingers to their parched and cracking lips. Said looks after them, and gives them as much of our water as he dares, fearing we shall be short ourselves.

"Should ye ever be one of a fainting band, With your brow to the sun, and your feet to the sand, Traverse The Desert, and then you can tell, What treasures exist in the cold deep well; Sink in despair on the red parched earth, And then you may reckon what water is worth."

The Negro youths are practising some of their wild sports and warrior tricks. Three on one side and three on the other set to work to bring off a sham-fight. The youths made arrows of the branches of the palm, and, holding up a portion of their clothes for a shield, they throw these palm-branch arrows with great force and precision, almost always hitting one another. This they continued for some time. As the arrows are thrown by the party of one side they are picked up by the other. When a man falls by a slip or otherwise, the opposing combatants fight over his body with great obstinacy and animation. This was the prettiest scene of the wild fight. The real arrow used in the interior is usually poisoned. The Negroes are expert in discovering and preparing vegetable poisons, as men of all countries are in inventing weapons for their own destruction. The Negroes have their Captain Warners as well as we. Bundles of these poisoned arrows were exposed for sale at Ghat, together with bullocks'-hide shields. Whilst the lads are thus passing their time, the lasses are combing, dressing, and oiling their hair, or washing and cleaning, or decorating themselves, or playing with their little trinkets of glass beads and chains; thus clearly defining the tastes of the male and female Negro animal. It is much the same amongst us civilized brutes. Men fight and quarrel one way or the other, and the women flirt and dress. The occupation of the women is the more harmless. Perhaps we are getting a little better. Men begin to think there is more noble employment in the world than cutting one another's throats, and deifying the wholesale assassins who destroy them; women, too, seem disposed to prove that they have something else to attend to, besides setting off and conserving their beauty. We have with us a youth sent for sale to Tripoli by the Bashaw of Fezzan, who it seems must dabble in slave-dealing, notwithstanding his imprecations against the merchants of Ghadames for the same crime. He is from Mandara, and was kidnapped by the Tibboos. This is the captain of all the sham-fighters, and the leader and prompter of all other sports on the way. There is always one who assumes superiority over the rest, in every troop of human beings; so it was in the beginning, and so it will ever continue to be.

I see by my notes I have various commissions to execute--if--if--if I return to Mourzuk en route. First for the Sheikh of Bornou, I am to bring a small coining-machine to make a copper-currency, replacing the present inconvenient system of pieces of cotton called Ghubgha[118]. Next, I am to bring Congreve-rockets, by which the Sheikh may set on fire the straw-hut cities of his enemies; but I should think a good drill-serjeant would be better than rockets. Finally, some instructions, in the Arabic language, for preparing indigo, and bees'-wax, and tanning leather. This last memorandum of the commission is infinitely more grateful to one's feelings, as promoting the useful arts in Central Africa, than either establishing a base currency, or multiplying the weapons of destruction. For the Bashaw of Fezzan is to be brought a splendid gold watch. The Greek Doctor wants an Italian Medical Dictionary, and a small case of surgical instruments; and for Mr. Gagliuffi I am to bring everything which may be useful to him. The Consul very justly recommends, the teaching Negroes the useful arts as the only means of permanently extinguishing the traffic in slaves. He also recommends the introducing of Missionaries into the Pagan countries, Mandara and Begharmy, beyond and neighbouring to Bornou, as an important means of civilizing Africa. But, it is to be understood, that the Missionaries should go as merchants, and, like Paul, work with their own hands at mechanical trades. It must not be a wild-goose chase of empty declamation, but a thoroughly conscientious project, wrought out according to the circumstances of the country, with discretion and courage. In this way it would, with the blessing of Providence, succeed admirably. The Moravians alone have successfully applied themselves to this kind of Missionary labour.

Passed a well this morning, on our left, called Beer Tagheetah. There is water in many places where no attempt is made to cultivate the cultivable soil. I asked an Arab of Timhanah why more land was not cultivated? "We have no bullocks, no asses; we cannot draw up the water--we want money," was the reply. This sort of answer is applicable to almost every country in Europe. Our encampment is at the place called Ghurmeedah. Here are only two or three untenanted huts, where the date-watchers sleep or repose during the season. This small forest of palms belongs to Zeghen. Took a little cuscasou with some Arabs who have joined us, being hired by Essnousee to carry dates for the slaves. Giving an account of their country, they say, "Fezzan is a country of poor people; it always was so: we have only the date-palm. This is our riches. If the sea came up to Fezzan, then we would ship dates for Tripoli; but as it is, they are too heavy--they don't pay the expense of carrying to Tripoli. We have besides, a little corn, but not cattle enough to draw water to increase this cultivation. Many of the people live only on dates and hasheesh (herbs). We eat the ghoteb." In the abandoned huts I found three or four women just come from Zeghen. They were collecting and boiling the ghoteb, which they sell in their town; it eats very cooling and pleasant with dates. If I recollect, it is something like the barilla-plant. I tasted the herb, but could make nothing of it. Nevertheless, the inhabitants of Fezzan are apparently healthy and happy. Providence blesses this poor dish of herbs, and makes it palatable and nourishing.

14th.--Rose with the sun's rising, and started with the first scattering of the bright orient beams. Course over an undulating surface of mostly sandy soil, but firm to the camel's foot. In various places is scattered a great quantity of the common black volcanic shingle, and which, indeed, covers a fifth of The Sahara I have traversed. Essnousee tells me this stone contains iron, for so, reported our countrymen of the two former expeditions in Fezzan. The Turks of Mourzuk assert the same thing, though not very great authorities in geology. This shingle has certainly a most ferruginous appearance. About three hours after leaving our encampment we passed the town of Semnou on our right. Our people read on the camel's back. Essnousee pretends to devotional reading. I never attempted reading on the camel, in order to preserve my eyes, though by no means difficult. An European who has to traverse these Saharan solitudes might supply himself with a few entertaining books, in large type, and while away many lonely and tedious hours, when riding on the camel's back. Only one of the slaves is sick, to whom I give a ride every morning. The rest go pretty well--in fact, our short days' journeys, during these last several days, are a trifle to us all.

Arrived at Zeghen at 2 P.M. Don't feel very strong. Ought to eat more, but can't get meat. Had a good drink of camel's milk this morning. Tired of cuscasou, and now like bazeen better. Several of the people come to see me, apparently more hospitable than those of Sebhah. They are all very poor, scarcely existing, ground down to the dust of The Desert. Went into the town. People got talking of religion. The presence of a person of another faith always suggests the subject to these unsophisticated people. I declared to them, that as the Great God was "The Most Merciful," every good man of every nation, be he Mahometan, Christian, or Jew, might expect the Divine favour. This doctrine was too liberal for some, others approved. Moors, in all these discussions, speak a good deal about hell-fire. They think, at least, this will shake a Christian's courage. They are very sensible to corporal torments themselves, like all barbarians or semi-civilized people. But, poor idiots, they don't know that we denounce them as the future inhabitants of the same place,--"Companions of The Fire." A Marabout came and listened, who evidently was one of the fools so kindly and humanely taken care of by Barbary people. The idiot had ostrich feathers round his breast, and a circlet of large beads in his hands, which he kept telling with a vacant stare. He begged of me, but I gave him nothing, having nothing to give. Population of Zeghen, about a third or fourth-rate town of these oases, is estimated at 200 men, 300 women, and 700 children and slaves. There are always a few more women than men in these Saharan towns. This surplus of women is kept up by importing female slaves from Central Africa. There the men perish in wars, or otherwise are enslaved for the Western Coast, and a surplus of women is left for the North.

This evening arrived the courier from Mourzuk, who took charge of a small packet of French patent soup, which I left behind. Mr. Gagliuffi had had this soup three years, and it was still very good. It is preserved in thin pieces like dried glue. It requires only boiling with a little salt, and then is pretty good. In long Desert journeying it would be easy to take a supply of this sort of preserved soup, as well as potted meat. On the address of the packet was, "Signore Richardson--Mr. Gagliuffi--God bless him."

15th.--This morning, at starting, I was very much amused at seeing two young camels loaded for the first time with a few trifling things, to break them in. They are only one year old. The little reprobates cried and groaned, and grumbled most piteously; one would have thought they were about to be killed, with the knife at their throats. The Arabs, to prevent their crying, throw some sand into their open mouths. By this little bit of barbarity, the poor young things were obliged to cease crying to chew the unwelcome bolus of sand. When laden, they started off as mad, trying to throw off their load. Do they know, by their powerful and foreseeing instinct, that this was the beginning of their painful labours and journeyings? and do they thus resist the imposition of burthens with all their youthful ardour and strength? A young camel remains with its mother and sucks a whole year. It is five years before the camel attains maturity of growth and strength.

Our route is north, over what the French call la terre accidentée. It was the bonâ fide Sahara, and wore its rugged face of desolation. But, after continuing five hours, we encamped at the Omm-El-Abeed, or "Mother" or "Country of Slaves," so called probably because the slave-caravans stop here to take in a good supply of water for four days on the highway of Tripoli. Whatever its name, this is a fair spot, abounding with excellent water near the surface. There are two wells, and both full to overflowing. The water is slightly impregnated with iron. Herbage around is abundant, and wild palms give it the appearance of an oasis. Essnousee, who is a sagacious fellow, justly remarked to me:--"If this country were in the hands of Christians, they would make it a fruitful garden, palms would be planted, corn sown, and houses built." The Moorish merchants can appreciate the superior industry and intelligence of Europeans. Undoubtedly, the presence of abundant good water, and a soil composed of a mixture of sand and earth, (the essential ingredients for a fruitful oasis,) would, in other hands, soon render this spot a paradise in Desert. It rejoices my heart to contemplate the future--if perchance that future come--when this Saharan region shall fall into the hands of another Government, be invaded, circumscribed, and reduced on every side, and such a conquest over The Desert made by the hand of industry, as to render it a garden of the Hesperides, and to blossom as the rose. In another century, or a century after that, this may be the case. Even Moors, the worst people of the world in looking forward to improvements, have in many of these oases planted young palms, and already reaped the benefit in an increasing crop of dates, although, unfortunately, more from necessity than forethought have they been actuated. What may then be expected from men who adopt the principle of progress! Oftentimes I have connected, in imagination, the shores of the Mediterranean with the banks of the Niger, by a series of uninterrupted palmy oases, with jutting fountains, and silvery streams of living water, and cool shady resting-places for weary caravans. Hope is still my consolation in travelling through this thirsty dreary wilderness. Better to feed the mind with these expectations, even should they be illusory, than sighing and groaning over the desolations of Africa.

This evening took a little cuscasou with Essnousee. After supper the eternal subject of religion was brought forward by this slave-driver. He cannot comprehend my travelling, and thinks I must have some secret mission. He was more surprised when I told him I should visit the New World after exploring Africa, for this shifted his suspicions from Mahometan countries. Essnousee, like others of his countrymen, cannot comprehend notions of enterprise and discovery in travel. How should he? What country has a Moor? What purposes of renown and glory can fill him with a patriotic ambition? Nevertheless, a Moor has three passions, those of gain--sensuality--and religion, which latter sentiment often at, or even before, the close of life, absorbs the other two, yet itself degenerating into superstition and fanaticism. These passions make up the end and compass of the being of a Moor, the objects of all his pursuits through life. On the latter of these sentiments or passions, Haj Essnousee, a thoroughly bad man himself, took the liberty of addressing me these words, in reply to my demand of "What is good in this world?" "If you wish to do a good thing," said the slave-driver, "do this, abandon your country and your friends. Forget you were born a Christian. Go to Egypt--there turn Mussulman. Then go to Mecca. There read and study all the day, and all the days of your life. See and hear the time of prayers announced from El-Kaaba[119]. Pray at Fidger, Subah and Aser, Mugreb and Lailah[120]. Observe well the burying-place where the body of the Prophet is laid, and be assured that if you are buried there, you will rise up at the Resurrection to Paradise. This is the good work I counsel you to do, but you won't do it." I smiled at this fine speech, and asked the slave-merchant to give up his trade, go to Mecca, and carry out that which he so eloquently recommended me to do. This turning the thing on himself displeased him, and the zealous preacher dropped his sermon in a moment.

Fezzan, with its numerous and large oases, offers for investigation to the physiologist, the three distinct species or varieties of the human race which overspread all Central Africa, viz., The Arabs and Moors, the Touaricks, and the Negroes,--and these all mixed and blended together, of all shades of colour, stature, and configuration. The Arabs and Moors abound this side Mourzuk. Sebhah and Zeghen are all Arabs and Moors. The Touaricks are found in the Wady Ghurbee, and are occupied chiefly in a pastoral life, leading their flocks through open Desert. Some live in the villages of The Wady. But these Touaricks are not subjects of the chieftains of Ghat. The Negroes begin at Mourzuk, and extend south in all the districts of Fezzan, as far as the Tibboos. Ghatroun, I am informed, has an entire population of coloured people, under the protection of a Marabout.

16th.--Another day lost. We stop here to-day to take in water, (as if we did not arrive soon enough yesterday to take in water for a hundred times our number,) and to let the camels feed. Felt, however, excessively weak, and very nervous to-day. At one moment, I seemed as if I were placed in an exhausting-receiver, and was about to give up the ghost. It's perhaps as well for my health, we don't go on quicker. According to the report of the Fezzaneers, there is fever in every oasis during the summer, and considerable mortality. Eating dates continually in the summer must create a great deal of heat in the system, and thus it is not surprising that fever prevails.

Evening, just at sunset, the Mandara slave came near to my encampment and mumbled something to my Negro servant. Looking at him, I saw he asked Said to beg me to do something on his behalf. In a few minutes, a slave belonging to another master came up to him and began to console him, saying, "Go, go." They both then took up handfuls of sand and scattered it upon their foreheads and chins, as if performing some incantations to avert an impending evil. This done, they both burst into tears, and sobbed aloud. By this time, I learnt from Said that Haj Essnousee had sent for the Mandara slave to beat him. I then asked, "For what?" The slaves replied, "For nothing." This I could not believe. Looking towards the encampment of Essnousee, I saw the slave-driver greatly excited, and heard him call to two other slaves, "Fetch him, fetch him." These slaves, (I almost cursed them in my heart,) came running to my encampment like two bloodhounds, and seized the wretched slave, their brother in bondage, and dragged him off to the enraged slave-driver. The poor fellow, from fear and trembling, could not stand upon his legs, and was held up by his captors. The Mandara slave being brought to Essnousee, and the two captors having pinned him down, this ferocious Moor took him aside and flogged him with a huge slave-whip until The Desert was literally filled with his cries! continuing to flagilate his bare body until he (Essnousee) was himself exhausted by administering the brutal flogging. The Arabs of our caravan, who were near, got upon their legs, from sheer annoyance at the sound of the whip and the cries of the slave, but, like dastardly wretches, contented themselves with looking on, silent and motionless. I felt, at the time, extreme contempt for what are called "the brave and gallant sons of The Desert." I was not near enough, on my journey to Tripoli, to justify any effectual interference on my part. Afterwards I went up to Haj Essnousee and asked him, why he had flogged the slave? He answered still greatly excited, "He'll not eat; he's a devil; it is necessary there should be one devil amongst my slaves." His nephew observed, as a hopeful pupil of his merciless uncle, "He's a thief, he robs us." This is the only satisfaction I could get; but from the rest of the caravan I learnt that the poor Mandara slave was flogged for no other reason except to gratify the capricious cruelty of Essnousee. This Sockna Moor was born to be a slave-dealer and slave-driver, a cunning ferocity and genuine Moorish sensuality being impressed upon his Cain-like countenance. I was enabled to study his character on our way, but study was scarcely requisite to discover the mark of the first murderer stamped on his brow. When too indolent to beat his slaves he would throw stones at them; when flogging the female slaves, if he could not succeed in rousing their sensibilities as they dropped from exhaustion in The Desert, he would poke up their persons with a stick. This Saharan villain was thoroughly imbued with the principle of an English duke, "That he (Haj Essnousee) had a right to do what he liked with his own," and did not scruple to mutilate a slave to satisfy his demoniac caprice, in spite of its losing half of its price or value in the market. Poor miserables are those pro-slavery writers, who argue that a man will take care of his slaves because they are his own property! Why did not the imperial tyrants of Rome defend the liberties of their people, because they were their own people? Neither human nor divine law can permit any man, even a good man, to have absolute property in his fellows, much less a bad man or a tyrant. But Haj Essnousee is not altogether an unmixed monster; he has something of enterprise and an active intelligence about him, to redeem him from complete execration. Seeing me disconcerted about his whipping the slave, he observed,

"There are two fine wells here, have you written them? You must give a good account of everything to your Sultan."

I then returned to the other slave-masters, owners of seven slaves, and said, "Why do you let a poor wretch be flogged to death in this way and not interfere?"

They replied, "Oh, you yourself should interefere; we're frightened at Haj Essnousee."

I.--"You then wish me to interfere,--I, who am a Christian, and an Englishman, and we English have no slaves,--and you wish me to meddle with your business?"

Another Moor said, "Ah, Yâkob, we know if it had been a Christian flogging a Christian, you would have interfered. But we are an accursed race, our merchants fear not God. And when one does wrong, another will not speak to him, and tell him he does wrong to himself and God."

After this we had no more flogging to Sockna. I hinted to these people, something might be said by the English Consul to the Bashaw of Tripoli about this flogging work. The remark was probably reported to Essnousee. I made up my mind, if the poor fellow was flogged again, to get him to run away at Tripoli, or into a consulate, and then divulge the affair. It may be mentioned here, that two days before arriving at Sockna, I turned to look at one of the female slaves, who was last of all, and being driven along by the whip, with several others, and thought I saw symptoms of insanity marked in her face. "Why," I observed to the driver, "this woman is mad!" "Mad!" he replied; "No, she went blind yesterday." On examining her, I found she was both blind and mad from over-driving. What a happiness if the poor creature had died or been flogged to death! She would then have escaped two of the heaviest of human calamities, as well as the curse of slavery.

17th.--On leaving Omm-El-Abeed, after a couple of hours, we traversed some sand hillocks, all dismounting to lighten the camels. The sand deceived my vision frequently in walking. Looking at some heaps over which I was pacing, I imagined them at a considerable distance off, when, to my amazement, I found them under my feet in an instant. It might be partly owing to the dizziness of riding. The sand was a deep shining red. At another time a hillock of sand seemed projecting near my face, and putting out my hand to feel it, I found nothing but thin air. More sand encumbers this route than that between Ghadames and Ghat. After a couple of hours of sand we ascended an elevated rocky plateau, continuing our route north till night. This was a long, long day, full of weariness and misery. Nothing for the camels to eat, and we were obliged to give them dates. The poor slaves drooped and were dumb. The frown of God was stamped on this region! For--

"Here rocks alone and trackless sands are found, And faint and sickly winds for ever howl around."

18th.--Continued our course over the plateau. It was now become hard sun-baked earth, and bare of herbage. As upon the plain of the celebrated Tenezrouft, objects here become greatly magnified in the distance, exceeding the most powerful magnifying lens. In the simple and bold language of our camel-drivers, "A man becomes a camel, and a camel becomes a mountain." Some bones of a camel, at a distance of less than a quarter of a mile, looked like a living camel going along with several people, the white bones representing the burnouses of the men. A small white stone, not ten inches high, appeared to be several feet in height, at the distance of a quarter of an hour's ride. And so of the few other discernible objects on this wide expanse of optical delusion. Mirage was seen at times, but nothing pretty. We encamped late, midway through the vast plateau, when shadowy night began to establish her sable throne, in "rayless majesty," over this silent, sombre Desert. On such a horrid waste as this, when crime and murder shall have depopulated the world, the last man will breathe his last sigh! Another long and weary day was this. With difficulty could I descend from my camel, and when I did, I was unable to stand. My plan is, immediately on descending from the camel to take a table-spoonful of rum and swallow it neat. This restores me to a consciousness of the objects around me, and then I lie down an hour, whilst supper is preparing. An hour's rest generally enables me to get up and walk. If restored sufficiently, I go to chat half an hour with my companions of travel; if not, I never rise till the next morning. I found the rum of essential advantage in restoring me to consciousness. I am indebted to the Greek Doctor for it. One bottle lasted me from Mourzuk to four days within reaching Tripoli.

19th.--Continued the route of the plateau till the afternoon, when with a low range of mountains on our left, we entered a hilly undulating country, having stones, some good sized blocks, scattered thick over all the surface of the ground. In the small intervening valleys were a few acacias, and a little herbage for our camels. But behold a wonder! At noon, we passed through one of these small valleys, when to my thorough and complete amazement, we found a few men and a tent pitched. Doing what? Oh, wonder of wonders! These men were digging a well at the command of the Turks! Formerly the Turks in Barbary did nothing but fill up the wells, or let them be filled up. Another day has dawned over "the spirit of their dream." The Ottomans now begin to see that they must step forward in the march of improvement, or be blotted out of existence, as a nation of the earth. This is the most difficult part of the route in coming up from Tripoli to Mourzuk, and the object of digging the well is to reduce the distance where water may be taken in to two and a half or three days, instead of four or five, which is now the case. The new well is already dug very deep, and I am sorry this extraordinary enterprise of the Turks, that of digging a well in The Desert, has not yet been crowned with success. Water would be found at last, but I have my misgivings about their perseverance. The French scientific officers, who have examined the Saharan districts of Algeria, are of opinion, that Artesian wells might be bored through every part of The Desert, and all these vast solitudes be linked together with chains of wells. Nothing is too great for the enterprising genius of man!

We encamped late in one of these valleys. The male slaves went to fetch wood. They were benighted, and could not return, or find their way back. A horse-pistol was fired three times, and these reports brought them into the encampment. Our Moors recommend me, when at any time benighted in The Desert, never to move, but wait for some sign or signal, or report of firearms, or until a person be sent in pursuit of me. This the slaves did, and were enabled to return. Had they wandered about, they would probably have got a long way out of the track, or from the encampment, and not heard the report of the pistol. To show the improvidence of our Moors, we had only just powder enough for these three discharges.

20th.--Continued through the undulating country until we got fairly amidst massy mountainous groups of considerable altitude. These mountains are covered with small blocks of black (iron) stone, and ferruginous shingle. These immense groups are called Gibel Asoud, "Black Mountain." I went, on foot, with Essnousee and his slaves, "the short-cut," or mountain foot-path of Nifdah, leaving the camels to go round by the other, or camel route, of En-Nishka. I found, however, this "short-cut" a very long one, and dreadfully fatiguing. I recommend all travellers never to believe in the short-cuts of the Arabs, for they are sure to be deceived. These people have no ideas of distance or time. Only conceive a weak and exhausted traveller, like myself, climbing up and down groups of mountains for two weary hours. At length we descended into the valley where is the well of Ghotfa. We only remained an hour to rest, and drank a little water, not encamping at the well. We proceeded to meet the camels by the camel route. On overtaking them, we encamped at night-fall. This was another long and weary day, and made our fourth from Omm-El-Abeed. Our slaves were exhausted to the uttermost; their song, with which they were wont to cheer themselves, was never heard: their plaintive choruses never broke over the silence of Desert! It was to-day, whilst threading the precipitous mountain-path, I observed the unhappy negress, who went blind and mad by overdriving. Our route to-day is graphically described by Denham, and the passage being short, I shall copy it. "We had now to pass the Gibel Asoud, or Black Mountain. The northernmost part of this basaltic chain commences on leaving Sockna. We halted at Melaghi (or place of meeting); immediately at the foot of the mountain is the well of Agutifa (Ghotfa,) and from hence, probably, the most imposing view of these heights will be seen. To the south, the mountain-path of Nifdah presents its black overhanging peaks, the deep chasm round which the path winds, bearing a most cavern-like appearance. A little to the west, the camel-path, called En-Nishka, appears scarcely less difficult and precipitous, the more southern crags close the landscape, while the foreground is occupied by the dingy and barren Wady of Agutifa, with the well immediately overhung by red ridges of limestone and clay, the whole presenting a picture of barrenness not to be perfectly described either by poet or painter." By this craggy gorge the plateau above-mentioned is entered, and it is frequently by such gorges, which seem to be the buttresses of the plateaus, that the elevated Saharan plains are approached.

About noon we met a reinforcement of Arab cavalry on the way to Mourzuk, to intercept the son of Abd-El-Geleel, in the event of his returning during the spring to Egypt or the Syrtis. I found the reputed six reduced to two hundred men, and most triste cavaliers, mounted on still more miserable horses. The stories which we have read of the fondness of the Arab for his horse were sadly belied by the fact of the condition of this troop. Indeed, an Arab treats his horse much in the same way as his wife--most miserably bad. This triste troop, worthy the command of the Knight of La Mancha, was a faithful picture of the wretched condition of the province of Tripoli. On passing me, some saluted, and others stared. Said met a former fellow-slave of the island of Jerbah going under the protection of this escort. The freed slave gave a confused account of the last act of abolition of the Bey of Tunis. He was on his way to Begharmy, his native country. I observed a Turkish officer, having a sort of sedan-chair, swinging on the back of a camel, a good thing for an European female travelling in these countries, and not a bad thing for a worn-down emaciated tourist like myself. I envied him this Desert luxury.

21st.--Started with the first solar rays, and as we journeyed on, the valley of Ghotfa widened, till we found ourselves traversing an immense plain, at the extreme north of which, and on the west, we saw the palms of Sockna. We had seen them yesterday indistinctly from the peaks of Gibel Asoud. We continued our route for four hours, when we arrived at Sockna. There is still a goodly number of palms, notwithstanding the thousands destroyed by Abd-El-Geleel when besieging this place. The trunks of the destroyed palms still remain, and look like a leafless forest in winter, or as if blasted with lightning. But these Arabs, either in building up or in throwing down, never do their work effectually. Tired of their work of destruction, they thus, happily, left the inhabitants a considerable number of palms, affording a good stock of dates. We were met near the gates of the city by the friends and relatives of our people. Some of them gave me a salute, but I am now so half-Moorishly dressed, or Turk-like, that I am not readily distinguished as a Christian. When within the walls, the heat and the refraction of the sun's rays from the stone walls were so intense, that I really thought my face would have been burnt up. With a little patience we were domiciled in the dark room of an empty house, where I went to bed at 3 P.M., and did not get up till the evening of the next day. During these hot sultry glaring days in Desert, how grateful is darkness,--how much better than light. On arriving at a station, I find it the best thing possible to lie down an hour or two, and, if in a town, where we are to remain a few days, to go to bed at once. This is the only way to recover effectually, and far better than food or stimulants. Since leaving Tripoli I have not performed a more arduous journey than these last five days. Our days' journeys were at least fourteen or fifteen hours long. In summer it requires seven days, or five short days and five long nights. On the road, there were no animals or living creatures, except a few lizards, starting from under the camel's feet, as if to look who we were, and ask why we had come to disturb their solitary basking in the sun; and a few swallows, which seemed to follow us to the well, or to the shores of the Mediterranean, whence they will now skim their airy way to the more temperate clime of Europe. I think, also, we saw two birds not unlike snipes. But we shall soon get within the region of birds and beasts.

FOOTNOTES:

[118] A ghubgha is a measure of six feet long, and measures pieces of cotton six feet long (and three inches broad), from which circumstance the currency is thus named. Four ghubghas form a rottol or pound, and thirty rottols are of the value of a Spanish dollar. This was the exchange in 1845.

[119] The Sanctum Sanctorum of the Temple of Mecca.

[120] The names of the five times of the day when Mussulmans pray.

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XXIX. RESIDENCE IN SOCKNA

Visit to the Turkish Kaed of Sockna.--The Concubine of His Excellency.--Convoy of Provisions for the Troops of Mourzuk.--The number of Palms destroyed at Sockna by Abd-El-Geleel.--Population of Sockna, and position of the Oasis.--Visit to the Sockna Maraboutess.--The Lady honoured with "Stigmata," or "Holy Marks."--Propriety or impropriety of assuming the Moorish Character and the Mahometan Religion whilst Travelling in Sahara.--Gardens of the Environs.--Find several old Charms in my Lodgings.--Commerce and Merchants of Sockna.--Second Visit to the Maraboutess; her Character and Occupation--Visit the Kaed; he compliments Christians.--Panoramic view from the Castle of Sockna.--Description of the Castle.--Third Visit to the Maraboutess.--Few Children in Sahara.--The little Turk or Kaed suffering under the power of Epsom, and very unwell.--Arrival of another Convoy.--Rain in North Africa.--Parallel Ideas between The East and Africa.

22nd.--GOT up to write a little of my journal; found myself greatly recovered. Essnousee called, and we went to see the Turkish Governor in the evening. The Governor is called Kaed, Bey, and generally Mudeer Suleiman, by the people. We found his Excellency in the midst of his business, squatting tailor-like upon a raised bench of mud and lime, covered with a carpet. The Mudeer seemed happy enough, his secretary sitting below at his feet. He was very glad to see me, "For people," he observed, "don't see Christians every day in this horrid country." The Mudeer made me mount his throne by his side, giving me his superfine cushion to repose on, talking all the time; "Foolish men, you Christians, to come to these horrible countries." From this elevated position I was enabled to survey his Excellency's receiving apartment, with the adjoining one. It was a rich and varied scene; only Dickens could do justice to any description of these state-rooms of the Castle of Sockna. We had first the Mudeer, a little dirty mean-looking Turk, most shabbily attired, with some fifty or sixty winters on his Ottoman brow, but with a sufficiently good-natured face. The Mudeer has been only two months in Sockna. He was sent from Mourzuk, and enjoys the confidence of Hasan Belazee. Before him there was another Turkish Kaed of Sockna. The continual jealousies and rivalries in these towns prevent the Pacha from appointing them one of their native Sheikhs. The Mudeer has been four years in Barbary, but, like all the Turks, speaks Arabic very badly, with a most detestable accent. The apartment of the Kaed is a portion of the Castle, the passages to which are a mass of ruins, and you are afraid of the walls or ceilings of dilapidated rooms tumbling on your head. Sockna, like Mourzuk, has its Castle, separated from the town. The Mudeer's room is a wretched dirty barn, with a large mud fire-place in the centre. Around it are now seated a number of Moors, talking violently and quarrelling. The Kaed cannot understand them, and calls out, "What is it? what is it?" "Oh, nothing," they scream out in turn, "we're only talking amongst ourselves." The Turk turns to me:--"Christian, I am a Kaed of beasts, not men, Drink your coffee now." There is always a great mixture of freedom and awe, as it may happen, in the intercourse between the Turks and Moors. But the prime feature of the scene now under consideration, is the Sockna doxy, whom the little dirty Turk has closeted in an adjoining room. At first she peeps out, but seeing only a Christian has come in, she becomes more familiar, and at last sallies out boldly, and begins romping with the Kaed's Negro lad. This is a great lout of a fellow, who can't keep from grinning. The Nigger lout is dressed in the clothes of the new Turkish troops, and, as might be expected, there is a rent behind, from which issues his dirty linen, in all its nasty splendour. This the doxy now seizes hold of, to the infinite amusement of his Excellency the Governor, his Secretary, and various courtiers, as likewise myself. The lady herself is not quite a Desert maiden, skipping like a young roe over the mountains, in untutored innocence or coyish bashfulness. She is young, it is true, but full-blown and bloated, very big about, and excessively dirty and nasty. The favourite of the Mudeer is besides almost as black as a Negress, with a pock-marked face. After dodging about with the Negro clown some ten minutes, her eye catches the shape of a huge ill-looking Turkish fellow, walking heavily into our apartment, or hall of audience, and the Moorish damsel immediately retires to her private boudoir.

I was not aware of the presence in Sockna of another Turk. He is in charge of a convoy of provisions for the troops of Mourzuk, consisting of eighty camels laden with oil, and rice, and mutton fat, boiled down. The convoy has been detained ten days for want of camels. The officer had been on as far as Ghotfa Wady, and returned, his miserable camels dropping and dying. These provisions are conveyed at the expense of the principal towns through which the convoy passes. The discussion going on to-day between the Kaed and the Sockna people, was about obtaining the requisite number of camels. The Kaed I now heard exclaim, "By G--d, after to-morrow the camels must go!" The people, "Impossible! they will die, they will die." I could obtain no news from the Turk escorting the convoy. He was an ignorant beast. But, curious enough, the fellow was dressed as much like an European as he could well be so travelling, with neckcloth, jacket, trousers strapped over black shoes, and a large pair of leather gloves, which he told me he found very useful in keeping the sun from burning his hands.

During my interview, the circumstance of Abd-El-Geleel cutting down the palms of the suburbs because the Sockna people would not surrender to his summons, or acknowledge his authority, was mentioned. The number cut down, by the besieging Sheikh, from 20,000 was now raised to 120,000. Of course, this is exaggeration. Unfortunately, however, the Sheikh destroyed nearly all the best palms, those bearing most delicious fruit, and which palms have rendered Sockna dates so celebrated, whilst he left all the worst to spite the people. It will require seven years merely to replace them as fruit-bearing palms, and thirty or fifty years to mature palms yielding fruit of the quantity and quality of those destroyed. This it is which fills all Sockna people with a thirst of vengeance to extirpate root and branch the family of Abd-El-Geleel. The people themselves have offered Government to defray the expense of an expedition to Bornou, to cut off his son and all the Oulad Suleiman. Essnousee, a good patriot, swears he will not rest until he has had vengeance upon the Oulad Suleiman; yet he is afraid to go to Bornou again whilst they are there. He says:--"We (Sockna people) muster 2,000 men, all fighting men, not women or chickens, like the people of Ghadames. We fight like the French. Our country is like France. The Bashaw sends no troops to our assistance. He knows we can defend ourselves." It is a fact they have no troops here, although Sockna is the most important town of these upper provinces. Since the conquest of Algiers by the French, the Moors think France the greatest military nation upon the face of the earth. If we reckon the adult males of Sockna at the half of Essnousee's estimate, the general population will be something like this amount:--

Men 1,000 souls Women 1,500 " Children and slaves 3,000 " ----- Total 5,500 "

Sockna is often spoken of as distinct from the districts of Fezzan, and so it really is; but others include both it and Bonjem within the circle of these clusters of oases, forming one province. The Turkish Kaed is more or less dependant on the Bashaw of Mourzuk. His salary is not very extravagant, twenty-five dollars per mensem. His Excellency may make a little besides on his own account, for this is hardly enough to keep him. Sockna is placed in 29° 5′ 36″ north latitude, and has always been an emporium of trade on the ancient line of communication between Northern and Central Africa. In many respects Sockna is like Ghadames. The principal inhabitants are a few rich merchants; provisions are scarce, everything being imported, as the gardens afford but a scanty supply of edible products, and all things are extremely dear. Leo mentions that, in his times, both Ghadames and Fezzan were dear places, and food scarce.

23rd.--Much better to-day in health, and rose early. Wrote several letters, which were not sent on, curiosities in their way, and scarcely now legible. Afternoon sent a letter by the Shantah (courier) to Mr. Gagliuffi. It will reach Mourzuk in eight days. A letter is also eight days getting to Tripoli, in the opposite direction. This evening all the town was occupied in buying a few sheep. What people for business are these Moors! The sheep were brought out, one by one, and bid for, as at an auction. They were cheap, from two and a half dollars to three each.

Called upon some Sockna ladies, whose acquaintance I made through the nephew of Essnousee. They were his relations, and received us very kindly, en famille. These ladies were occupied with worsted embroidery, at which they earn a few paras. One is a Maraboutah, or Maraboutess. She reads and writes a little, and this, with a mind prone to religious ideas, constitutes her a saint. Few are the Moorish or Arab female saints, for woman is hardly dealt with by the Mahometan faith. There is a celebrated tutelary goddess, or Maraboutah, near the city of Tunis, who is invoked by all the women of the country, and a pilgrimage is made to her shrine every morning. The remarkable circumstance about this Sockna Maraboutess is, that she is very weak about the loins and cannot walk upright, being frequently carried about. She says, and the people confirm her testimony, she has "holy marks" upon her, imprinted by some supernatural being; I think the angel Gabriel was mentioned. This reminds me of the "Stigmata" of Saint Francis of Assisi, for doubting which "canonical fact," Pope Ugolino was very near anathematizing the Bishop of Olmutz. I therefore shall not doubt this prodigy, equally well authenticated, lest I incur the excommunication of the good people of Sockna. I had not the pleasure of seeing the "holy marks" of the Maraboutess, they being imprinted on an unobserved portion of her body, but I cannot question their existence. It is wonderful (a far greater prodigy!) what are the analogies of religion and superstition. How like the feeling and the sentiment! and in this case the very corporal marks of the body! I asked the Maraboutess if she would prefer the use of her limbs to these "holy marks." She answered very quietly and properly, "As God wills, so I will." The Sockna saint then put to me this question, "If the English knew and worshipped God?" How many times has this question been asked! And yet we, in the pride of our conceit, imagine that we monopolize all religion, as well as all virtue and science, presuming all the world knows it, and recognizes our superiority. My Maraboutess was pleased to hear that the English knew God.

24th.--Copied a letter or two. Since my return, looking over the published journal of the Bornou expedition, I find this paragraph under the rubric of Sockna. "And in this way we entered the town: the words Inglesi! Inglesi! were repeated by a hundred voices from the crowd. This, to us, was highly satisfactory, as we were the first English travellers in Africa who had resisted the persuasion that a disguise was necessary, and who had determined to travel in our real character as Britons and Christians[121]," &c. "In trying to make ourselves appear as Mussulmans, we should have been set down as real impostors." This is a most extraordinary passage. The reader will hardly believe, or really cannot believe after this, that these very parties themselves were circumcised and attended the mosques. But such was the case; I had it from unquestionable authority. This is altogether too bad. A little decorating of an incident, or a conversation, I imagine, is allowed to the traveller, but this circumstance can hardly be passed by without animadversion. However, when this was written, the most conscientious man of the party (Oudney) was dead. Clapperton did not write this portion of the journal: for its composition Denham alone seems to be responsible. I shall add no more, thanking God, that, with all my follies, I did not commit such a folly, as first to ape the Mussulman, and then repudiate it in print before the world.

25th.--Took a walk and went to see the Kaed. His Excellency was sitting outside, washed and clean shaved, for once whilst I saw him, with a thin white burnouse thrown over his shoulders. It was a saint's day with him. His Excellency presented to me a cup of coffee without sugar, but, Turk-like, when indulging in their dreamy taciturnity, did not open his lips. However I had nothing to say to him, nor he to me. Afterwards I strolled through the suburbs to botanize. Visited the nearest garden, and found the slaves occupied in irrigating it. An old Moor gave me a little horticultural information. It requires twelve years for growing a good fruit-bearing palm; but, he admitted, a palm might bear fruit within seven or eight years. Observed a male palm. Instead of white flowers which the female palm has at this season, the male has enormously long broad hard pods, but also contains flowers. When the flowers are fit for germination the pods will burst. The flowers are then thrown over the female palm to produce impregnation. The madder-root is here cultivated; it is watered every third day. The leaves are cropped often, but the root requires three years to come to perfection. Wheat and barley are watered in Sockna every other day. Observed the tree called gharod, or gharoth, or gurd; it bears a seed-pod which is used in tanning leather, from its great astringency. In all the Sockna gardens this tree abounds. It is a species of mimosa, with a yellow flower, and small delicate leaves like the acacia. It is a pretty tree, high, and spreading, perhaps twenty feet in height. The seed-pod is sold one quarter dollar the Fezzan kael, or measure, half a peck or so. The gurd is also employed medicinally. I was glad to see several young palms recently planted. I love progress; everything in the shape and style of progress delights me. Would to God the entire Desert was covered with palms. But man would be just as corrupt and unthankful! Being shut up in a dark room three or four days, I felt the sun disagreeable, paining my eyes. In returning, I stopped at a school and wrote for the boys,

‮بسم الله الرحمان الرحيم ربّ واحد وقادراً‬

which delighted them beyond measure.

A man, ran away to-day with his three camels, not liking Government work, which is usually performed by Moors and Arabs for the Turks at a price less than nothing. Some of the Kaed's officers went in pursuit of him. Evening, called on the Kaed, and found his flaming concubine extended at her full length upon his elevated seat of authority. His Excellency himself, meanwhile, had stepped out of the Castle to look after the camels. The Bashaw of Mourzuk has sent him a wigging letter for the delay in sending up the convoy of provisions. Picked up several old charms in my room to-day. They had been placed over the threshold of the door to keep out the Evil One. Sometimes they are tied round the necks of camels, and even placed on trees, especially at the time when bearing fruit, for the purpose of preserving the camel from mange, or the tree from blight. These talismans usually have a diagram of this and other shapes, with certain Arabic signs, letters, words, and sentences, written within and without.

It will be seen that some of the signs are Greek letters. I brought with me three of these charms from The Desert; one to obtain me a good reception from the English Sultan on my return; another to conduct me safely to Timbuctoo, should I be disposed to attempt the journey; and the third to procure for me a pretty wife. My charms have not yet compassed these various interesting objects, but they infallibly will do so. The taleb who wrote them gets his living by writing charms, and is very successful in his craft. His paper squibs rarely miss fire, and when they do it is not the fault of the charms but that of the person who wears them. It is necessary to kiss them frequently and fervently, and repeat over them the name of God[122].

26th.--We were to have started to-day, but, as usual, delay. Time is not the estate of these people; rather it is their lavish, valueless waste. Called early on his Excellency. Coffee without sugar. His Excellency very merry, because he had sent off the oil, grease, and rice caravan. What a pother it was--it was like the starting of an expedition to conquer all Central Africa! His Excellency's concubine still occupies the seat of honour, where she frequently goes to sleep. The courtiers of his Excellency wink at this little peccadillo. Essnousee remarked to me it was all right; "The Mudeer must have some sort of a wife." Had some conversation with an intelligent Moor on the trade of Sockna. It appears the merchants are in the same predicament as those of Ghadames. They are all without capital, and are virtually commission-agents of the Jewish and Christian merchants in Tripoli. They receive their goods on giving bills for six, nine, and twelve months. These goods they carry to Mourzuk and Ghat, exchanging them for slaves and other produce of the interior. Afterwards they return to Tripoli, sell their slaves and goods, pay off their old debts, and contract new engagements. Meanwhile they have scarcely a para to call their own. Therefore European merchants, aided by native Jews, are the bonâ fide supporters of the traffic of slaves in Sahara.

Visited my dearest lady-saint, or Maraboutess, this evening.

The Saint.--"In a short time I am going to Beit Allah ('house of God,' or Mecca)."

"Indeed!" I replied.

"Yes, there I shall repose under the shadow of the Holy Place, resting my poor broken limbs and spending my days in fervent prayer, preparing myself for heaven:" continued the pious lady.

The Traveller.--"What shall you do in Paradise?"

The Lady.--"I shall eat and drink well, and be dressed in silk."

The Traveller.--"Shall you have a husband?"

The Lady.--"Yes."

The Traveller.--"Shall you bear children!"

The Lady.--"No."

The Traveller.--"Where is Paradise?"

The Lady.--"God knows, you don't know[123]."

This good amiable lady is somewhat spirituelle for a Mooress, and makes lively and apposite remarks on other things, as well as religion. The Maraboutess may be twenty-five or thirty years of age, not good-looking, neither disagreeable. A dark complexion, a prominent aquiline nose, a fine gazelle-like eye, and hard-looking features are overshadowed with a triste and melancholy expression, from the circumstance of her being continually an invalid. I saw the poor thing was so weak that she could not stand upright. The saint said, with a heavy sigh, as she attempted to move about, "If I were to go to Tripoli, would you give me a ride on your camel?" I answered, "Every morning a couple of hours," during which time I always walk. She then complained of her poverty. She did not know how she should get money enough to go on her pilgrimage to Mecca. If God had given her the strength of others, she would have walked bare-foot over The Desert. I consoled her by saying, that, being a saint, all the pious Moslems would relieve her. She would get a ride from one and another, and God would soon help her over the dreary Desert. The Maraboutess was busy embroidering in coloured worsted, chiefly the bodies of frocks, which are worn by brides on their marriage-days, as well as by lady Mooresses on other festivals. In ten days she earns two shillings, the price of one embroidered frock. She has always more than she can do, for the women of Sockna consider garments made by her, "holy robes," and keep them all their life-time. For the rest, she, poor thing, lives on alms. She asked, of course, many questions about women in Christian lands, and was very much surprised to hear that the supreme ruler of England was a woman. The Maraboutess observed, however, in her character as such, "What a pity she (the Queen of England) was not the daughter of Mahomet, like Fatima!" The saintess then asked if Her Majesty had any children, and was glad to hear she had so many. Three or four children is a good number for women in these oases. She was puzzled to know why I was not married. I told her I could not carry about a wife in Sahara. Another woman, listening, observed, "Why, you foolish one, leave her at home till you return." These ladies then spoke of religious rites, and asked me if a Christian, when he was buried, was placed on his knees. This notion they have got from our habits of prayer. Moslems never kneel, properly speaking, at prayer. Their attitudes at prayer are in style and essence, prostration. The ladies, growing bolder, began to speak of the "Bad Place," the ultima thule of Moorish discussion with Christians, imitating the fire of perdition with their hands and mouth, wafting the air with those, and blowing and puffing with this, and then asked me how I should like "The Fire" (‮النار‬). But I returned, "Christians say all Mohammedans will go into that fire." This greatly shocked them, and they asked if I thought so likewise. I replied, "All who fear God, and are good to their neighbour, may expect to see Paradise, if there be one." "Ah, that's good!" these proselyting ladies exclaimed. The Maraboutess was, however, more thoughtful. "Do you doubt there is a Paradise?" she asked, looking me full in the face.

I.--"There must be such a place, at least let us hope so; for this is a bad world, and everybody in it is miserable--Sultans and Dervishes."

"God is great!" exclaimed the Maraboutah. She then begged for medicine to cure her, for although she had stigmata like St. Francis, she would rather be cured of them. I recommended her the baths in Tripoli, and to put herself under the treatment of the English doctor. "Oh," she added, "send me some medicine, and I'll give you some milk." Then the poor thing, groaning with an attack of pain, continued, "Do, make haste." I could do nothing for the poor sufferer. On returning to my house, I sent her some cream-of-tartar, and received from her some milk immediately, showing her high sense of gratitude.

27th.--Visited the little dirty Kaed. He gave me dates' syrup to drink. It was more delicious than honey This syrup is made by pouring fresh water on fresh dates, and covering up the bowl in which they are placed, allowing it to stand a night. Only one of the species of the Sockna dates, but that of the most exquisite quality, will produce this Saharan ambrosia.

Generally, if dates are steeped in water, they will not produce syrup, and only get a little soft. People never wash dates. They say it deprives them of their fine fresh and peculiar date-flavour. When the Mudeer handed me the bowl to drink the syrup, he observed to the Moors and his precious doxy, sitting wantonly by his side, "The Christians are fine people. If in Sockna you give them a cup of coffee, or a few dates, and see them afterwards in Tripoli they will make you many compliments, and be very kind to you." This remark was made spontaneously, having no selfish end. The old Turk was too much of a gentleman in his way to allow such a sordid calculation to enter his mind at the time. I may mention here, a woman observed when I visited the Maraboutess, (addressing me), "You must send the medicine, for a Christian mou yakidtheb (never lies)." It is a pity that these people, who have discernment enough to see at times the moral superiority of Christians, should not look a little below the surface and inquire into its cause. Not, however, that all Europeans, (or myself,) deserve these high compliments of gratitude and love of truth, although, compared to Moors and Arabs, we are certainly far their superiors in morals. The little dirty Turk had as usual his fair concubine installed on the seat of honour. Sockna people say, "She has no husband," and others, "She is the Kaed's wife," to make the best of a bad appearance.

28th.--Shut up writing during the morning, but in the evening paid a visit to the little nasty dirty Turk, and found the little nasty dirty fellow very civil. His Excellency complained of being very sick. I returned immediately to fetch him some medicine. Afterwards we mounted together to the top of the Castle. From this eminence, we had a splendid view of the environs, and the various little oases of Sockna and its neighbouring desert. The distant mountains form an unbroken circular line on the pale margin of the sky, except on the east, where it is indented a little, but of several heights and colours, giving a fine and more varied effect to The Desert scene. Within this circle, at the base of the various groups, are black-green palms, scattered in little forests, casting shades on the now white, now light red, and now purple mountain sides, as if to set off the perspective of The Desert picture. Here and there are garden-huts or lodges in the wilderness, so many black spots within little squares of pale-green patches of corn cultivation. There is a string of moving dots. What is that? A caravan winding along its weary way. Not a bird is seen to wing the ambient air. The atmosphere generally is a pale unpolished yellow, inclining in some cloudy flakes to red. The Saharan sun now fast descends, with a feeble heat and exhausted lustre, showing the near approach of the dull and drowsy step of shadowy night. There is something about Saharan views which is peculiar to them and to Africa; every object is so smoothed down and smoothed over, that the scenery of Desert looks at a distance more like paint and picture-work, than the stern realities of the Wasteful Sahara. And yet these smoothed-down picture-objects are so well defined and sharply prominent--all the lines traced in the most absolute manner--no blending of shapes or even colours. Mist and misty objects are not frequent in the African Desert.

The Castle of Sockna would be considered by us a ruined building, and condemned as unsafe to be inhabited, but here it is always "The Castle." It does not contain a single good room; all is tumbling to pieces, and if you don't take care, you will fall through some of the floors, gaping open with large holes at your feet to let you in. Only one miserable piece of cannon was mounted, and two other pieces of ordnance were lying "below stairs," corroding most delightfully in rust. But the Turks never pretend that this place can make any serious defence against an enemy. Were indeed a good piece of ordnance fired from the top of The Castle, the concussion would knock down all the part of the building where it was placed. As it is, a portion of the outer walls has fallen down, and the rubbish is scattered up to the doors of the neighbouring shops. No effort is made to clear away this rubbish. "Why should it not remain where God has allowed it to fall?" says the fate-believing Moslemite. The owners of the shops creep to their magazines of merchandize as they best may. I remarked to the little dirty Turk, who sat with a dreamy stare looking over The Desert, smoking very unpolitely with his back to the sun, "This country without question was formerly in a much better state, and The Castle in good repair." His Excellency shook his head negatively. The Turks detest this country, hating its inhabitants with the most cordial hatred. Yet the lust of rule, (the object of a fatal ambition in all Moslemite countries,) and the right and power of bastinading a man when they please, reconciles them to The Desert, and to its weary, dreary, blank mode of existence. For what toys do men sacrifice the best days of their life, and the most noble faculties of their being!

Glad to get away from the dirty old Turk. Called later to see my dearest Maraboutess, with whom I was almost inclined to fall in love. It is a positive relief to find something, and somebody amiable in this Desert of human affections. The saint had many visitors, and is evidently held in high respect by the inhabitants. Her female associates sitting by her, asked me, what has been so often asked before, if the Christian women brought three or four children at a birth. From some cause or other, polygamy, obesity in the women, or the abuse of the marriage-bed, Saharan females have very few children. There were five elderly men in our caravan; all were married, of course, for every man marries amongst Mahometans. These old gentlemen had not more than two children each, and one of them none. I set the Sockna ladies right, telling them, some of our women had twins, and now and then three, but that one was the rule. Every thing about us Christians is exaggerated. The people of these towns think us a distinct race from themselves. Such is the effect of religion when misapplied; it estranges men from one another instead of drawing them together with the cords of brotherly affection. An Arab present with us, changing the subject, asked why I did not go to Bornou, for all the Oulad Suleiman (Arabs of the Syrtis) up at Bornou were friends of the English, and one and the same with them? He continued, "But let them come here to cut down again our palms, and we will not leave one of them alive." I gave the poor Maraboutess a few paras, received her blessing, and bade her an affectionate adieu. Happy would be many, if with such bodily afflictions they could amuse themselves with such blissful visions!

His Excellency presented me with half a pound of coffee, and told me to beware of the Sockna people, who would rob me of it if they could.

29th.--Called early to visit the "Grand Turk" of the Castle, and administered to his Excellency a full dose of genuine Epsom. In turn, he gave me a basin of coffee with milk,--quite a novelty in The Desert,--which I thought a splendid exchange. I had a good deal to do to get him to swallow the Epsom. On calling to see him in the afternoon, I found his Excellency racing about like a real jockey of Epsom, running out at times very abruptly, to the great amusement of his Sultana, who admired the effects of the Epsom. Called again in the evening to see my patient, and found his Excellency suffering from what he called dysentery, and administered a couple of small opium pills. The Turk observed, with something of a grin, that Christian doctors knew more of the inside than the outside of a man.

30th.--Another Turk arrived this morning with another convoy of provisions from Tripoli. He is twenty days from that city. He complains of the camels. Certainly I never saw worse camels than these of the Tripoline Arabs. The Turk brings good news. Rain has fallen copiously in The Mountains. It is the "latter rain" in the Scriptural phrase, ὑετον οψιμον. The "early rain," ὑετον πρωϊμον, falls in North Africa about September and October. The "latter rain" continues to April, and sometimes falls in May. In December and January there is often dry weather, and the finest season in the year for Europeans. Want of rain in Fezzan and Sockna is compensated for by the abundance of springs. These rains in The Mountains will establish the rule of the Turks. It is only a question of provisions. The want of rain for several years has brought Tripoli to the verge of ruin, and the Sultan is tired of supporting this Regency. If a few good harvests come, Tripoli will support itself. Wrote to Mr. Gagliuffi by this caravan, to tell him where I was on the 30th of March! He expects me by this time to be at Tripoli. We are to leave this evening.

Amused myself again by noticing several parallel ideas between The East and Africa, as found in our Scriptures.

In these countries there is always some one great river; for this reason, Moors will always have the Nile and the Niger to be "one great river." Mr. Cooley, in his "Negroland of the Arabs," proposes, for the various names given by ancient and modern geographers to the Niger, the simple epithet of "The Great River." In The East, we have, τὸν ποταμὸν τὸν μεγαν τὸν Εὐφράτην (Rev. xvi. 12), "The Great River Euphrates." It is not to be supposed the prophets and evangelists were instructed in geography beyond their age. The vial of wrath is not poured upon Ganges, or Mississippi, or Amazon, but on Euphrates, the great river of that age and time, although not of our age and times.

Καλαμον χρυσοῦν (Rev. xxi. 15), "a golden reed." The term καλαμον, the root of which are the three consonants κλμ, is the same as ‮قلم‬, "a reed" first, and afterwards, "a pen made of a reed." It is difficult sometimes to get reeds in The Desert, and they are carried about from oasis to oasis. On the salt plains of Emjessem, near Ghadames, there is a fine lagoon of reeds, of which pens are made. It is probable the angel wrote the measurement of the "Holy Jerusalem" with a reed pen, and not measured it with a reed, as represented in our version.

Και ἡ γυνη εφυγεν εις την ερημον (Rev. xii. 6), "and the woman fled to the Wilderness." The Wilderness, or Desert, in ancient times, as now, in this part of the world, was always a place of refuge; but, as the world becomes civilized, the Wilderness will offer no resource to the fugitive, and the back-woods of the new colonies will no longer shelter the runaway, or outlaw of society, or the innocent patriot fleeing from the pursuit of his country's tyrants. Gibbon gives an affecting description of the fugitive Roman, who found Rome's omnipresent tyrant in every clime whither he fled, on every soil paced by his trembling foot. Before this time arrives, let us hope liberty will have settled down, with its outspread eagle wings sheltering every country of the habitable globe.

Εὰν ὁ Κύριος θελήσῃ, καὶ ζήσωμεν, καὶ ποιήσωμεν τοῦτο ἢ εκεῖνο. (James iv. 15.) Mahomet and his disciples have made enough of this divine injunction, which, indeed, ought to be more practised by Christians. By the Moslems, however, it is carried to a superstitious excess, and the En shallah--‮ان شاء الله‬--"Deo Volente," is continually in their mouths. They cannot even say, "Yes," to anything, although la, la, "no, no," is heard frequently enough. The aywah, ‮ايوه‬, "yes," means rather "well done," than "yes." But it is a pity they have not adopted, with the same superstitious strictness, the ομνὑετε, "swear not," of the same writer; for no people in the world swear so much, and by such sacred names, as the Arabs and Moors.

Φόβος ὀυκ ἔστιν ἐν τῇ ἀγάπῃ, ἀλλ' ἡ τελεία ἀγάπη ἔξω βάλλει τὸν φόβον, ὅτι ὁ φόβος κόλασιν ἔχει. (1 John iv. 18.) "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casteth out fear; because fear hath torment." I have never yet heard the Arabs or Moors speak of "loving God." They say either, "He knows God," or, "He fears God." Nevertheless, such phrases agree with our expression of religious sentiment. Besides knowing and fearing God, our religion requires that we love God. This the Saharan Mussulman does not well understand. All his religious system is: "To know that there is a God, to be feared and dreaded as an earthly Prince or Sultan, who at times rules them with a rod of iron." So all their actions, motives, impulses, whether religions or secular, spring the rather from fear than love. And so it is, that whenever they speak to a Christian about religion, their first and last argument is, "The torments of the Lost," as I have already so often mentioned; and the fear of the fire of perdition, it may be added, is their continual "torment." The Koran helps them out, in their dread of corporal torments. I need not refer to the celebrated passage, which represents the wicked in the regions of the lost as "gnawing their fingers and knuckles in the rage and agonies of their pain." But in Rev. xvi. 10, we also have--εμασσωντο τας γλωσσας αὑτων εκ του πονου "they gnawed their tongues for pain." In both cases the picture is too terrible to be calmly contemplated. It is a true observation of philosophy, that the pictures of the future state of man, as delineated in the sacred books of different religions, are, the greater part of them of a painful and horrible character. But the Koran surpasses all these books, in wire-drawn and elaborately wrought descriptions, the most mournful, the most disgusting, the most terrible, of the torments of the damned. Is it because, men generally can only be moved by fear, and not by love, to the practice of virtue and religious observances? But in Sahara the principle of fear is carried into the minutest relations of social life. The child fears and venerates, not loves, his father; he approaches his parent with awe, not with the confidence of love. The wife always fears, rarely loves, her husband. Connubial pleasures are not the embraces of love and confidence, but of lust and rule; and the woman slavishly submits to the caprices of the man, as bound by an absolute and resistless contract, and not from affection or any inclination. So it was in earliest times,--the weaker went to the wall, and the stronger was the master; might was right. Peter ungallantly reminds the women of his age of κύριον αὐτον καλοῦσα, "(the wife), calling him (the husband) lord," as the practice of the women of a still remoter age. Nothing flatters an African husband so much as to hear his wife call him "lord," and "master." But it was not the intention of the first propagators of our religion to disturb the social customs and (Oriental habits of) society. Besides, the apostles, being Jews and Asiatics, would naturally introduce into their new doctrine the old despotic notions of the East regarding women. When Christianity spread west and north, these notions of despotism over women were resisted in Greece[124] and Rome, and by the Germanic tribes, amongst whom especially women were treated as dignified and responsible agents, enjoying equal rights with men. Nevertheless, the condition of women has improved everywhere with the spread of the pure morality of Christianity.

Near Sockna, or one and a half hour east, is Houn; and two hours north-east, is Wadan. The water of these two towns is brackish.

FOOTNOTES:

[121] This is probably an allusion to the following observations of Captain Lyon, in justification of his assuming the Mahometan religion:--"It may be necessary before I take leave of Mourzuk, and indeed of Tripoli, to explain that our adoption of the Moorish costume was by no means a sufficient safeguard in either of those places, or in traversing the interior of Africa; for, though it might, to a casual observer, blind suspicion, yet when we had occasion to remain for a time at any place, or to perform journeys in company with strangers, we found that it was absolutely requisite to conform to all the duties of the Mohammedan religion, as well as to assume their dress. To this precaution I attribute our having met with so little hindrance in our proceedings; for had we openly professed ourselves Christians, we might, in Fezzan, have experienced many serious interruptions; whilst farther in the interior, even our lives would have been in continual jeopardy. The circumstance of our having come from a Christian country, which we always acknowledged, frequently rendered us liable to suspicion; but by attending constantly at the established prayers, and occasionally acknowledging the divine mission of Mahomet; or, more properly, by repeating, 'There is no God but God, Mahomet is his Prophet,' we were enabled to overcome all doubts respecting our faith." It must be added, in justice to Messrs. Ritchie and Lyon, that since 1821 a vast change has been wrought in the minds of the Moors of North Africa, and especially with regard to Englishmen. When even Denham and Clapperton visited Mourzuk, they were not allowed to reside in the town, but kept in the castle, under the special protection of the Bashaw, lest anything should befall them from the prejudices of the people.

[122] As a suitable accompaniment of Mussulman charms, I add in a note, the following specimen of a Christian charm, which I found in the letter of the Times' Swiss correspondent.--(See Times, 10th Dec., 1847):--

"More--I have seen some curious little brass amulets, with the effigy of the Virgin on one side and the Cross on the other, which were sold in great numbers to the people as charms against all possible injuries in battle. Those sold at seven and ten batzen (about 10_d._ and 15_d._ of our money) were efficacious against musket and carbine balls; those at twenty batzen (about half-a-crown) were proof against cannon shot also! The purchasers of these medals were also presented with a card, of which the following is a verbatim transcript, capitals, italics, and all:--

'O MARIE CONCUE SANS PECHE, PRIEZ POUR NOUS QUI AVONS RECOURS A VOUS!

'Quiconque, portant une médaille miraculeuse, recite avec piété cette invocation, se trouve placé sous la protection spéciale de la Mère de Dieu; c'est une promesse de Marie Elle Même.'

Which, being interpreted--if indeed I may be excused for profaning the honest English tongue with such blasphemy--is,

'Oh Mary!--conceived without sin--pray for us who have recourse to you. Any one carrying a miraculous medal, who recites with piety the above invocation, becomes placed under the especial protection of the Mother of God. This is a promise made by Mary herself.'"

[123] This is the tiresome, frequently-recurring phrase of the Koran.

[124] So we find Paul declaiming that he will not suffer a woman to speak in the churches. It was the Greek women who wished to assert the dignity of woman by teaching in the assemblies of the saints.

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