Chapter II: Appendix (1)

NO. I.—Translation of a Letter from the
Sheikh Mohammed El Kanemy 139

NO. II.—Translation of a Letter from an African Chieftain 140

NO. III.—A Letter from Yousuf, Pasha of Tripoli, to the
Sheikh of Bornou 141

NO. IV.—A Letter from the Pasha of Tripoli 143

NO. V.—A Letter from the Sheikh of Bornou to the
Sultan of Kanou 144

NO. VI.—A Letter from the Sheikh of Bornou to the
Sultan of Hoossa 145

NO. VII.—A Letter from the Chieftain Mohammed Gamsoo 146

NO. VIII.—A Document relating to the Death of Mungo Park 147

NO. IX.—A Letter from the Sheikh of Bornou to
Captain Clapperton 148

NO. X.—A Document made at the Court of Justice of Bornou 149

NO. XI.—Translation of Letters and Documents received from
the Sheikh of Bornou concerning Mr. Tyrwhit’s Death 151

NO. XII.—Translation of an Arabic MS. 158

NO. XIII.—A Narrative of the first Battle of Kadawee 167

NO. XIV.—The Song of Mohammed-Alameen ben Mohammed El Kanemy 171

NO. XV.—Translation of an extempore Arab Song 173

NO. XVI.—Translation of the Song of the Fezzanneers,
on Boo Khaloom’s Death 174

NO. XVII.—Bornou Vocabulary 175

NO. XVIII.—Begharmi Vocabulary 179

NO. XIX.—Mandara Vocabulary 180

NO. XX.—Timbuctoo Vocabulary 181

NO. XXI.—Zoology 183

NO. XXII.—Botany 208

NO. XXIII.—Letter to Major Denham on the Rock Specimens 247

NO. XXIV.—Thermometrical Journals 262

LIST OF PLATES.

* * * * *

No. Page

1. Alameen ben Mohammed El Kanemy,
Sheikh of Bornou, _Frontispiece_

2. Part of the Stony Desert, _to face page_ xvi

3. Castle at Mourzuk, from Mr. Ritchie’s Grave xxi

4. Woman of Sockna xxvii

5. _Vignette_, Arabs Meeting xlii

6. View of the Bahr Mandia lviii

7. Castle, and Salt Lake at Tegerhy 5

8. Anay Tibboo Country 17

9. Kanemboo Marketwoman,—Unmarried Woman of Soudan 46

10. Body Guard of the Sheikh of Bornou 64

11. Reception of the Mission by the Sultan of Bornou 79

12. Shouaa Women, kingdom of Bornou 94

13. Arrival at Mora, the capital of Mandara 111

14. Mandara Musicians 123

15. Plan of the Pass of Hairy, Mandara mountains 127

16. Attack on Musfeia 133

17. _Vignette_, Manner of Roasting Fish 148

18. The River Gambarou, or Yeou, near Lada 152

19. Favourite of the Seraglio, accompanying a
Military Expedition 163

20. Kanemboo Spearman,—Munga Bowman, in the service of the
Sheikh of Bornou 166

21. Abdel Gassam, a Felatah from Timbuctoo—A Bornouese
on a Journey 177

22. _Vignette_, Kanemboo Night Watch 180

23. Hut, and Carpenter’s Shop 201

24. _Vignette_, Plan of Kouka 225

25. Fishing Boats on the River Shary 229

26. River Shary, from the Walls of Kussery 235

27. _Vignette_, Negresses Pounding Corn 247

28. A Loggun Lady—Funha of Maffatai—Abdelahi of Mandara 259

29. Hager Teous, or the Footstool of Noah 261

30. Sketch of the Lake Tchad 266

31. Lancers of the Sultan of Begharmi 279

32. Manner of Fishing on the River Yeou 284

33. Encampment near Woodie 289

34. Ghirza, south face of Building 305

35. Frieze on do. _ib._

36. Town of Sangeia, in Houssa 36

37. Natives of Soudan 54

38. _Vignette_, Plan of the Town of Kano 56

39. A Reduction of Bello’s Map of Central Africa 109

40. Appendix—Fennecus Cerdo 183

41. Arms and Armour of Central Africa, brought
42. home by Major Denham,—Three Plates.
43.

44. General Map of the Routes of the Travellers.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.

BY MAJOR DENHAM.

* * * * *

FROM TRIPOLI TO MOURZUK.

Previous to any knowledge I had received of the intentions of His Majesty’s government to follow up the mission of Mr. Ritchie and Captain Lyon, I had volunteered my services to Lord Bathurst to proceed to Timbuctoo, by nearly the same route which Major Laing is now pursuing. I learnt, in reply, that an expedition had been planned, and that Doctor Oudney and Lieutenant Clapperton, both of the navy, were appointed; and with these gentlemen, by the kindness of Lord Bathurst, I was, at my request, associated. My companions left London before me; but, as soon as ready, I lost no time in proceeding in the packet to Malta, where I found that they had left the island for Tripoli nearly a month before. By the kindness of Admiral Sir Graham Moore, Sir Manley Power, Sir Richard Plasket, and Captain Woolley, commissioner of the dock-yard, all my wants were amply supplied; and judging that the assistance of a shipwright or carpenter might prove of essential use, and being allowed by my instructions to engage any one, at a reasonable salary, who might choose to volunteer to accompany the mission, William Hillman, shipwright, a man of excellent character, immediately offered his services, on an agreement that he should receive 120_l._ a year so long as he should continue to be employed.

I embarked in the Express schooner, which the admiral lent me for the purpose, and, on the 18th November, after three days’ sail, arrived at Tripoli, and found my two companions at the house of Mr. Consul Warrington, anxiously expecting my arrival. Of this gentleman it is not too much to say, that by his cheerful and good humoured disposition, his zeal, perseverance, and extraordinary good management, we owe, in a great degree, that influence which England possesses with this government far beyond that of any other of the Barbary powers. The English name, in fact, is of such importance in Tripoli, that there is scarcely a point to carry, or a dispute to settle, in which the bashaw does not request the interference of the British consul: and to him, indeed, is, in a great degree, owing the origin and success of the late mission. He stated broadly to the government at home, that the road from Tripoli to Bornou was as open as that from London to Edinburgh; which, with a small allowance for Oriental hyperbole, was found to be true—witness the journey of my lamented friend Lieutenant Toole, and also of Mr. Tyrwhitt, the latter laden with valuable presents.

But this is not all: the British flag has a peculiar power of protection, and the roof of the English consul always affords a sanctuary to the perpetrator of any crime, not even excepting murder; and scarcely a day passes that some persecuted Jew or unhappy slave, to escape the bastinado, does not rush into the court-yard of the British consulate for protection. A circumstance occurred in returning from one of our excursions, which shows in what high estimation the English character is held in Tripoli. A poor wretch, who, for some trifling offence, was sentenced to five hundred bastinadoes, having, while on his way to receive the sentence of the law, contrived to slip from the custody of his guards, fortunately met with the child and servant of Doctor Dickson, a most respectable and intelligent English physician practising in Tripoli: the condemned wretch, with wonderful presence of mind, snatched up the child in his arms, and halted boldly before his pursuers. The talisman was sufficiently powerful: the emblem of innocence befriended the guilty, and the culprit walked on uninterrupted, triumphantly claiming the protection of the British flag.

But the following proves still more strongly to what extent the influence of the British flag might be carried.—Since the reduction of the refractory Arabs to submission, no chief had received such repeated marks of kindness and attention from the bashaw, as sheikh Belgassam ben Khalifa, head of the powerful tribe of El Gibel. At the particular request of the former, sheikh Khalifa had quitted his tents and flocks, resided in the city, and was high in his prince’s confidence—fatal pre-eminence in Barbary states!—and had been presented, but a few months before, with one of the most beautiful gardens in the Minshea. Returning from the castle after an evening of music and dancing in the bashaw’s private apartments, Belgassam kissed the hand that had signed his death-warrant, and took his leave. At his own door a pistol-shot wounded him in the arm, and on entering the skiffa, or passage, a second entered his body. The old sheikh, after his slave had fastened the door, staggered to his carpet, and then, in the arms of his wife, proclaimed his assassin to be his own nephew, sheikh Mahmoud Belgassam Wildé Sowdoweah. The work being, however, but half done, others rushed in, and seven stabs put an end to his sufferings, notwithstanding the screams of his wife, who received two wounds herself, in endeavouring to save her husband. The poor old man was almost instantly buried, and the three persons who had undertaken the murder fled to the British consulate for protection. Early the next morning, however, the consul despatched his dragoman to give the bashaw notice, “that the murderers of Khalifa would find no protection under the flag of England.” The bashaw said, “he was shocked at the murder, and regretted the assassins having taken refuge in the consulate, as it was a sanctuary he could not violate, particularly as he understood they meant to resist, and were well armed.” Our consul replied, “that the bashaw was at liberty to send any force he pleased, and use any means he thought best, to drag them from beneath a banner that never was disgraced by giving protection to assassins.” The minister also came and expressed the bashaw’s delicacy; and it was evident he did not expect such would be the conduct of the consul: he was, however, peremptory, and the bashaw dared not seem to favour such an act of villany. It was sunset before he decided on taking them away, when about sixteen of the chosen people of the castle entered the consulate, and the wretches, although provided with arms, which they had loaded, tremblingly resigned themselves, and were, in less than an hour, hanging over the walls of the castle.

On a day appointed we waited on the bashaw. After passing the court-yard, crowded with guards, and several groups of Arabs in the passages and ante-rooms playing at cards or dice, we were introduced to the audience chamber, where the bashaw, sitting cross-legged on a carpet, supported by his two sons, and attended by armed negroes, received us kindly, ordered us to be served with sherbet and coffee, and expressed himself in the most favourable manner on the subject of our mission, which he promised to forward in safety into the interior of Africa. He invited us to join him in a hawking party. The cavalcade, consisting of about three hundred, altogether presented so novel an appearance, that I shall endeavour to give some description of our morning’s amusement. The bashaw was mounted on a milk-white Arabian, superbly caparisoned, with saddle of crimson velvet richly studded with gold nails, heavy stirrups of the same, and trappings of embroidered cloth hanging down on each side nearly to the horse’s fetlock joint; he was preceded by six _chaoushes_, or officers, also mounted and richly caparisoned, armed with long guns, swords, and pistols, and a white silk barracan thrown loosely and gracefully round their bodies. His highness was supported on each side by a favourite black slave, whose glittering vest, light bornouse, and white turban, formed a pleasing contrast to the costume of the Arabs. We proceeded in a westerly direction; and on arriving at the desert, parties of six and eight dashed forward, with the rapidity of lightning, several hundred paces, fired, immediately halted in a most surprising manner, and with loud cries rushed back again to the main body, when instantly the same ceremony was repeated by another party. Their superior skill in the management of their horses is really beautiful; and the way they manœuvre their long musket, by repeatedly spinning it over their heads at full speed, has a most picturesque effect. Near the bashaw’s person rode Sidy Ali, his third son, although second in succession, in consequence of the banishment of the eldest; he also was attended by his particular guard of Arabs, distinguished not only by their superior and determined appearance, but by their figured muslin bornouses. Sidy Ali is the bashaw’s favourite son, and is particularly handsome, although what we should call too fat, and is said to resemble very much what the bashaw was at his age: he is allowed great privilege and liberty, which is indeed proved by his saying, the other day, to his father, “I shall succeed you as bashaw.” “How do you mean?” “How? why, by taking the same steps you did yourself,” said the youth.

I was invited, with my colleagues, to pass a day about five miles from Tripoli, at the garden of Mahomed D’Ghies, to whom I brought letters from his son, who was residing in London, much noticed and respected. This old gentleman had been minister for foreign affairs to the bashaw, but had retired from office some time, on account of a complaint in his eyes. He is a most respectable man, and particularly kind to all European travellers who visit Tripoli; and so well known throughout Northern Africa, that letters of credit from him are sure to be duly honoured. Nothing could exceed the hospitality and attention with which we were received: having regaled ourselves with sherbet, coffee, and tobacco, several times in the course of the day, and partaken of an excellent dinner, _à la Turque_, in a grove of lemon and orange trees, we returned in the evening to Tripoli, well pleased with our day’s excursion.

Tripoli has been so often described, that I shall pass it over in silence. Its Jews, its Arabs, its Moors, and Maraboots; the slave population, and the bashaw’s family; are all so well painted to the life in “Tully’s Letters,” as to require no further notice from me as a casual visitor. Neither is it my intention to enter into a minute description of the country between Tripoli and Mourzuk; the surface of which is not essentially different from that between Mourzuk and Bornou, and has already been noticed by Captain Lyon, and in the communications to the African Association.

On the 5th March, 1822, I left Tripoli for Benioleed[1], to join my two companions, who had proceeded thither with our servants, horses, camels, and baggage. They had gone on to Memoom, a very pretty valley, which, at this season of the year, was green with herbage, and adorned by flowers of various hues and colours, richly scattered in beautiful disorder;—but it was the last of the kind we were fortunate enough to meet with between this place and Bornou; and here the consul and his son, who had accompanied us from Tripoli, took their leave, with many hearty good wishes for our success and prosperity.

Engraved by E. Finden.

PART OF THE STONY DESERT.

NEAR SOCKNA.

_Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London._]

On the day previous to our approach to Sockna, a town about half way between Tripoli and Mourzuk, which we reached in fourteen days, the uniformity of the journey was somewhat enlivened, by meeting with a kafila of slaves, from Fezzan, in which were about seventy negresses, much better looking, and more healthy, than any we had seen near the sea-coast. They were marching in parties of fifteen or twenty; and on our inquiring of one of those parties from whence they came, the poor things divided themselves with the greatest simplicity, and answered, “Soudan, Begharmi, and Kanem,” pointing out the different parcels, from each country, as they spoke: those from Soudan had the most regular features, and an expression of countenance particularly pleasing.

Passing a small wadey and plantation of date trees, we had soon a view of Sockna, and were met on the plain, on which it stands, by the governor and principal inhabitants, accompanied by some hundreds of the country people, who all crowded round our horses, kissing our hands, and welcoming us with every appearance of sincerity and satisfaction; 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, and to wear, on all occasions, our English dresses; nor had we, at any future period, occasion to regret that we had done so. There was here no jealousy, nor distrust of us as Christians; on the contrary, I am perfectly satisfied that our reception would have been less friendly had we assumed a character that could have been at best but ill supported. In trying to make ourselves appear as Mussulmans, we should have been set down as real impostors.

The dates of Sockna are excellent, and in abundance: our animals were liberally supplied with this fruit of fruits; and after the first two days appeared to eat them nearly as well as corn. The population of Sockna must be considerably more than three thousand. The town is walled, and about a mile in circumference: has eight gates; and wears altogether a clean and neat appearance that surprised us. The women are certainly very pretty, and are said to be remarkable for their love of intrigue. This may be true, or not; but we had no opportunity of ascertaining it from our own knowledge. Of their affability and good humour, however, we had many proofs; and while only two of us were walking through the town one morning, with a little army of ragged boys following us, two, of rather the better order, quickly dispersed them; and invited us to enter a house, saying that a _mara zene_ (a beautiful woman) wished to see us. We put ourselves under their guidance, and entering a better sort of dwelling-house, were quickly surrounded by at least half-a-dozen ladies, most of them aged; but who asked us a thousand questions, and, when satisfied we were not dangerous, called several younger ones, who appeared to be but waiting for permission to appear. Our dresses and ourselves were then minutely examined. The yellow buttons on our waistcoats, and our watches, created the greatest astonishment; and a pair of loose white trowsers that I wore, into the pockets of which I accidentally put my hands, raised their curiosity to a wonderful degree: my hands were pulled out, and those of three or four of the ladies thrust in, in their stead: these were replaced by others, all demanding their use so loudly and violently, that I had considerable difficulty in extricating myself, and was glad to make my escape. The dress of the Sockna women is nearly that of the Tripoline: they wear striped shirts, of silk or linen, large silver ear-rings, with leg-lets and arm-lets of the same: the lower classes wear those of glass or horn.

The remaining half of our journey to Mourzuk was over pretty nearly the same kind of surface as that we had passed before; in some places worse. Sometimes two, and once three days, we were without finding a supply of water; which was generally muddy, bitter, or brackish: nor is this the worst that sometimes befalls the traveller. The overpowering effects of a sudden sand-wind, when nearly at the close of the desert, often destroys a whole kafila, already weakened by fatigue; and the spot was pointed out to us, strewed with bones and dried carcasses, where the year before fifty sheep, two camels, and two men, perished from thirst and fatigue, when within eight hours’ march of the well which we were anxiously looking out for.

Indeed the sand-storm we had the misfortune to encounter in crossing the desert gave us a pretty correct idea of the dreaded effects of these hurricanes. The wind raised the fine sand with which the extensive desert was covered, so as to fill the atmosphere, and render the immense space before us impenetrable to the eye beyond a few yards. The sun and clouds were entirely obscured, and a suffocating and oppressive weight accompanied the flakes and masses of sand, which, I had almost said, we had to penetrate at every step. At times we completely lost sight of the camels, though only a few yards before us. The horses hung their tongues out of their mouths, and refused to face the torrents of sand. A sheep, that accompanied the kafila, the last of our stock, lay down on the road, and we were obliged to kill him, and throw the carcass on a camel. A parching thirst oppressed us, which nothing alleviated. We had made but little way by three o’clock in the afternoon, when the wind got round to the eastward, and refreshed us something: with this change we moved on until about five, when we halted, protected a little by three several ranges of irregular hills, some conical, and some table-topped. As we had but little wood, our fare was confined to tea; and we hoped to find relief from our fatigues by a sound sleep. That was, however, denied us; the tent had been imprudently pitched, and was exposed to the east wind, which blew a hurricane during the night: the tent was blown down, and the whole detachment were employed a full hour in getting it up again; and our bedding and every thing that was within it was, during that time, completely buried by the constant driving of the sand. I was obliged, three times during the night, to get up for the purpose of strengthening the pegs; and when, in the morning, I awoke, two hillocks of sand were formed on each side of my head, some inches high.

On the 7th April we arrived at a village in the midst of a vast multitude of palm trees, just one day’s journey short of Mourzuk. As it was to be the last day’s march, we were all in good spirits at the prospect of rest; and had we made our arrangements with judgment, every thing would have gone on well. We had, however, neglected sending on to advise the sultan of our arrival—a constant practice, and consequently our reception was not what it ought to have been. We arrived at D’leem, a small plantation of date trees, at noon, and finding no water in the well, were obliged to proceed; and it was three in the afternoon before we arrived at the wells near Mourzuk. Here we were obliged to wait until the camels came up, in order that we might advance in form. We might, however, have saved ourselves the trouble:—no one came out to meet us, except some naked boys, and a mixture of Tibboos, Tuaricks, and Fezzanese, who gazed at us with astonishment, and no very pleasant aspect.

We determined on not entering the town in a manner so little flattering to those whom we represented: and retiring to a rising ground, a little distance from the gates of the town, waited the return of a chaoush, who had been despatched to announce our arrival. After half an hour’s delay, the sheikh El Blad (the governor of the town) came out, and, in the sultan’s name, requested we would accompany him to the house which had been prepared for us; and he added, to our great surprise, the English consul is there already. The fact was, a very ill-looking Jew servant of mine, mounted on a white mule, with a pair of small canteens under him, had preceded the camels, and entered the town by himself: he was received with great respect by all the inhabitants—conducted through the streets to the house which was destined to receive us; and from the circumstance of the canteens being all covered with small brass shining nails, a very high idea of his consequence was formed. He very sensibly received all their attentions in silence, and drank the cool water and milk which was handed to him: and we always had the laugh against them afterwards, for having shown so much civility to an Israelite—a race they heartily despise. “We thought the English,” said they, “were better looking than Jews—Death to their race! but then God made us all, though not all handsome like Mussulmans, so who could tell?” As we were all this time exposed to a burning sun, we were well inclined to compromise a little of our dignity, and determined on entering the town, which we did by the principal gate. The walls are well built, at least twenty feet high; and the gate sufficiently wide to admit, with care, a loaded camel. You pass through the fsug, slave-market, a wide street, with houses on each side, three hundred yards in length. It leads into an open space, in the centre of which the castle stands, surrounded by a second wall. In the inside of this inner wall, in the castle yard, are a few houses, originally built for the Mamelukes, and particular followers of the late sultan, when they were subject to the occasional attacks of the Arabs. In one of these, the house occupied by the late Mr. Ritchie and Captain Lyon, arrangements were made for our reception. Almost as soon as the camels were unloaded, we paid our respects to the sultan: he received us with a great deal of affability and good nature, and made an impression in his favour, which, however, his subsequent conduct tended but little to strengthen.

Engraved by E. Finden.

CASTLE AT MOURZUK.

FROM MR. RITCHIE’S GRAVE.

_Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London._]

Our interview with the sultan of Mourzuk was any thing but encouraging: he told us that there was no intention, as we had been led to expect, of any expedition to proceed to the southward for some time to come; that an army could only move in the spring of the year; that the arrangements for moving a body of men through a country where every necessary must be carried on camels, both for men and horses, were so numerous, that before the following spring it was scarcely possible to complete them: that two camels were required for every man and horse, and one for every two men on foot. And as to our proceeding to Bornou, it would be necessary, had the bashaw instructed him to forward us, that we should be accompanied by an escort of two hundred men. He said he would read to us the bashaw’s letter, and we should see the extent to which he could forward our wishes. The letter was then handed to his fighi, or secretary; and we found that to the protection of the sultan of Fezzan were we intrusted, who was to charge himself with our safety, and so insure our being treated with respect and attention by all his subjects; that we were to reside at Sebha, or Mourzuk, or where we chose in the kingdom of Fezzan, and to await his return from Tripoli. With this our audience ended, and we returned to our habitation.

It is quite impossible to express the disheartening feelings with which we left the castle. The heat was intense; the thermometer at 97° in the coolest spot in the house, during the middle of the day; and the nights were scarcely less oppressive: the flies were in such myriads, that darkness was the only refuge from their annoyance. All poor Mr. Ritchie’s sufferings and disappointments were brought to our recollections; and although, from the arrangements which we had been able to make, we were better provided with necessaries than those who had gone before us,—yet did we consider our stock as a very sacred charge, applicable only to the grand objects of our expedition.

We received visits from all the principal people of Mourzuk the day after our arrival; and remarking a very tall Tuarick, with a pair of expressive, large, benevolent-looking eyes, above the black mask with which they always cover the lower part of their face, hovering about the door, I made signs to him to come near, and inquired after Hateeta, the chief Captain Lyon had spoken so highly of, and for whom, at his request, I was the bearer of a sword. To my great surprise, striking his breast, he exclaimed, “I am Hateeta! are you a countryman of Said[2]?—how is he? I have often longed to hear of him.” I found Hateeta had been but once in Mourzuk since Captain Lyon’s departure, and was now only to remain a few days. On the following morning he came to the house, and the sword was presented to him. It would be difficult to describe his delight; he drew the sword and returned it, repeatedly; pressed it to his breast, exclaimed “Allah, Allah!” took my hand, and pressing it, said “_Katar heyrick yassur yassur_” (thank you very very much); nearly all the Arabic he could speak. It was shortly reported all over the whole town, that Hateeta had received a present from Said, worth one hundred dollars.

12th.—We had been several times visited, and our hopes and spirits raised, by a person called Boo-Bucker Boo-Khaloom. He said that it was in the sultan’s power to send us on to Bornou if he pleased: he even hinted that a bribe for himself might induce him to do so—this, however, we found was not the case. Boo-Khaloom was represented to us, and truly, as a merchant of very considerable riches and influence in the interior. He was on the eve of starting for Tripoli, with really superb presents for the bashaw. He had five hundred slaves, the handsomest that could be procured, besides other things. He stated to us, secretly, that his principal object in going to Tripoli was to obtain the removal of the present sultan of Fezzan; and wished that we should make application to the bashaw for him to accompany us farther into the interior: we were not, however, to hint that the proposition had come from him. Boo-Khaloom said that he should be instantly joined by upwards of one hundred merchants who waited but for his going, and no further escort would be necessary; that he should merely remain a few weeks in Tripoli, and, on his return, we could instantly move on. The substance of all these conversations was transmitted to Colonel Warrington.

Boo-Khaloom left Mourzuk for Tripoli, with his slaves and presents; loading upwards of thirty camels, apparently reconciled to, and upon good terms with, the sultan. It was, however, very well known that Sultan Mustapha had set every engine at work to have Boo-Khaloom’s head taken off on his arrival in Tripoli; and that the other was willing to sacrifice all he was worth to displace and ruin Mustapha in the bashaw’s favour.

It was not till the 18th, that the sultan, after attending the mosque, started for Tripoli; all his camels and suite had marched in divisions, for three days previous,—in slaves he had alone more than one thousand five hundred. He was attended by about ten horsemen, his particular favourites, and four flags were carried before him through the town. The inhabitants complained dreadfully of his avarice, and declared that he had not left a dollar, or an animal worth one, in all Fezzan.

Nothing was now to be done but to make our arrangements for a favourable start the following spring. By the sultan’s departure, every necessary for our proceeding was withdrawn from the spot where we were. Not a camel was to be procured, and every dollar, that he could by any means force from his subjects, was forwarded to Tripoli. To Tripoli, therefore, were we to look for supplies of every kind; and it was decided by us all, that my departure had better follow his as soon as possible.

In pursuance of our determination to represent to the bashaw of Tripoli how necessary it was that something more than promises should be given us for our sterling money, on Monday, the 20th May, I left Mourzuk, with only my own negro servant Barca, three camels, and two Arabs; and, after a most dreary journey of twenty days, over the same uninteresting country I had already traversed,—the more dreary for want of my former companions,—I arrived at Tripoli on the 12th June, where I was received by the consul with his usual hospitality and kindness, and he assigned me apartments in the consulate.

12th.—I requested an immediate audience of the bashaw, which in consequence of the Rhamadan was not granted me until the following evening. The consul, Captain Smyth of the navy, and myself, attended: I represented, in the strongest terms, how greatly we were disappointed at the unexpected and ruinous delay we had experienced in Mourzuk, and requested a specific time being fixed for our proceeding to Bornou; stating, also, that were the answer not satisfactory, I should proceed forthwith to England, and represent to the government how grievously we had been deceived. The bashaw denied having intentionally broken his word, and solemnly declared that the will of God, in visiting the sultan of Fezzan with sickness, had alone prevented our being now on the road to Bornou.

A voyage to Marseilles, on my way to England, was the consequence of our altercation with the bashaw; and the promptitude with which it was decided upon, and carried into effect, by means of a small French vessel which, at the time, most fortunately lay in the harbour, was not without its good effects. The bashaw sent three despatches after me, by three different vessels, to Leghorn, Malta, and the port I had sailed to, which I received in quarantine, informing me, that Boo-Khaloom was appointed with an escort to convey us forthwith to Bornou. This was every thing I wished for; and immediately re-embarking, a seven days’ passage brought me once more to the shores of Barbary. Boo-Khaloom and part of the escort were already at the entrance to the desert; and on the 17th of September we re-entered the pass of Melghra in the Tarhona mountains. Hope and confidence had taken possession of my mind, in the place of anxiety and disappointment; there was now an air of assurance and success in all our arrangements; and I felt my health and spirits increase with this conviction. But little beyond the casualties attendant on desert travelling occurred, previous to our arriving again at Sockna, which we did on the 2d of October.

I found the great failing of my friend, Boo-Khaloom, was pomp and show; and feeling that he was, on this occasion, the bashaw’s representative, he was evidently unwilling that any sultan of Fezzan should exceed him in magnificence. On entering Sockna, his six principal followers, handsomely attired in turbans and fine barracans, and mounted on his best horses, kept near his person, whilst the others, at a little distance, formed the flanks. I rode on his right hand, dressed in my British uniform, with loose Turkish trowsers, a red turban, red boots, with a white bornouse over all, as a shade from the sun; and this, though not strictly according to order, was by no means an unbecoming dress. Boo-Khaloom was mounted on a beautiful white Tunisian horse, a present from the bashaw, the peak and rear of the saddle covered with gold, and his housings were of scarlet cloth, with a border of gold six inches broad. His dress consisted of red boots, richly embroidered with gold, yellow silk trowsers, a crimson velvet caftan with gold buttons, a silk benise of sky blue, and a silk sidria underneath: a transparent white silk barracan was thrown lightly over this, and on his shoulders hung a scarlet bornouse with wide gold lace, a present also from the bashaw, which had cost, at least, four hundred dollars; a cashmere shawl turban crowned the whole. In this splendid array, we moved on until, as we approached the gates of the town, the dancing and singing men and women met us; and, amidst these, the shouts and firing of the men, who skirmished before us, and the “loo! loo!” of the women, we entered Sockna.

We found that houses were provided for us in the town; but the kafila bivouacked outside the gates. It had always been our intention to halt at Sockna, for three or four days; and here we expected to be joined by a party of the Megarha Arabs, whom their sheikh, Abdi Smud ben Erhoma, had left us, for the purpose of collecting together. Hoon and Wadan were also to furnish us with another quota. My house consisted of a court-yard eighteen feet square, and a small dark room, leading out of it by two steps: the court, however, was the greater part of the day shaded; and here, on a carpet, I received my visitors. The Arabs, as they arrived, were all sent to me by Boo-Khaloom; and their presentation has a form in it, not much in character with their accustomed rudeness: they all came armed with their long guns; and the same girdle which confines their barracan contains also two long pistols. The chief enters, and salutes, dropping on one knee, and touching the stranger’s right hand with his, which he carries afterwards to his lips; he then says, “Here are my men, who are come to say health to you.” On receiving permission, they approached me, one by one, saluting in the same manner as their chief, who continued to remain at my side: they then sat down, forming a sort of semicircle round me, with their guns upright between their knees; and, after a little time, on the sheikh making a signal, they all quitted the presence.

Boo-Khaloom, who had suffered very considerably from fever, cold, and ague, now became so seriously ill, that our departure was of necessity postponed, and he insisted upon my prescribing for him, saying, “he was quite sure that I could cure him, if it was the will of God that he should live: if not, that nobody could.” His confidence in me gave me some confidence in myself: but alone, with very few medicines, and less skill, my situation was really one of great anxiety; for no one could foresee what might have been the consequence, had any thing serious happened to him while under my hands. He became alarmingly ill, and for two days and nights I had great doubts of his recovery; to my great satisfaction, however, on the third morning, after a night of pain and delirium (and which I had passed in watching by his side), a violent eruption appeared on his skin, with some little moisture, produced by covering him up the whole day with blankets, and suffering no one to come into the room but his favourite female slave. By the evening, he became much better.—Hajamad, or charms, are what the Arabs have most faith in, when they are ill. All the fighis (writers) and maraboots in Sockna were employed on this occasion by my friend’s friends, and one night the tassels of his cap were literally loaded with them. He assured me, when alone, that he had no faith in such things, and smiled when he said his friends would think ill of him, were he to refuse; his faith, however, was stronger than he chose to acknowledge, and entering, unexpectedly, one morning, I found him with a dove that had been just killed and cut open lying on his head, which, as he assured me, was because a very great maraboot had come from Wadan on purpose to perform the operation.

During our stay at Sockna, the marriage of the son of one of the richest inhabitants, Hadgi Mohammed-el-Hair-Trigge, was celebrated in the true Arab style. There is something so rudely chivalric in their ceremonies (so very superior to the dull monotony of a Tripolitan wedding), where from one to five hundred guests, all males, assemble, covered with gold lace, and look at one another, from the evening of one day until daylight the next, that I cannot help describing them.

The morning of the marriage-day (for the ceremony is always performed in the evening, that is, the final ceremony; for they are generally betrothed, and the fatah read, a year before) is ushered in by the music of the town or tribe, consisting of a bagpipe and two small drums, serenading the bride first, and then the bridegroom, who generally walks through the streets very finely dressed, with all the town at his heels; during which time, the women all assemble at the bride’s house, dressed in their finest clothes, and place themselves at the different holes in the wall which serve as windows, and look into the court-yard. When they are so placed, and the bride is in front of one of the windows with her face entirely covered with her barracan, the bridal clothes, consisting of silk shifts, shawls, silk trowsers, and fine barracans, to show her riches, are hung from the top of the house, quite reaching to the ground: the young Arab chiefs are permitted to pay their respects; they are preceded from the skiffa, or entrance, by their music, and a dancing woman or two advances with great form, and with slow steps, to the centre of the court, under the bride’s window: here the ladies salute their visitors, with “loo! loo! loo!” which they return by laying their right hand on their breasts, as they are conducted quite round the circle. Ample time is afforded them to survey the surrounding beauties; and there are but few, who, on these occasions, are so cruel as to keep the veil quite closed. Such an assemblage of bright black eyes, large ear-rings, and white teeth, are but rarely seen in any country, I should suppose. After having made the circuit, the largess is given, and exposed to view by the chief _danseuse_, and, according to its amount, is the donor hailed and greeted by the spectators. Previous to their departure, all visitors discharge their pistols, and then again the ladies salute with the “loo! loo!” So far from being displeased at my asking permission to pay my respects, they considered it as a favour conferred; and the bridegroom, although he could not himself be admitted, attended me to and from the house of his mistress. This ceremony being ended, a little before sunset, the bride prepares to leave her father’s house: a camel is sent for her with a jaafa[3], or sedan chair of basket-work, on its back, covered with skins of animals, shawls from Soudan, Cairo, and Timbuctoo: she steps into this, and so places herself as to see what is going forward, and yet to be entirely hid from the view of others. She is now conducted outside the town, where all the horsemen and footmen who have arms are assembled. Our escort on this occasion added greatly to the effect, as they were all, by Boo-Khaloom’s order, in the field, consisting of sixty mounted Arabs; and when they all charged and fired at the foot of the bride’s camel, I really felt for the virgin’s situation; but it was thought a great honour, and that, I suppose, consoled her for the fright. They commenced by skirmishing by twos and fours, and charging in sections at full speed, always firing close under the bride’s jaafa: in this manner they proceeded three times round the town, the scene occasionally relieved by a little interlude of the bridegroom’s approaching the camel, which was surrounded by the negresses, who instantly commenced a cry, and drove him away, to the great amusement of the bystanders, exclaiming, “_Burra! Burra!_ be off! be off! _mazal shouia!_ a little yet!” With discharges of musketry, and the train of horsemen, &c. she is then conveyed to the bridegroom’s house; upon which it is necessary for her to appear greatly surprised, and refuse to dismount: the women scream, and the men shout, and she is at length persuaded to enter; when, after receiving a bit of sugar in her mouth from the bridegroom’s hand, and placing another bit in his, with her own fair fingers, the ceremony is finished, and they are declared man and wife.

Drawn by Captn. Clapperton. R.N.

Engraved by E. Finden.

_Published by John Murray, London. Feb. 1826._]

We had now to pass the Gibel Assoud, or Black Mountains: the northernmost part of this basaltic chain commences on leaving Sockna. We halted at Melaghi, or the place of meeting immediately at the foot of the mountain, the well of Agutifa; and from hence probably the most imposing view of these heights will be seen. To the south, the mountain-path of Niffdah presents its black overhanging peaks, and the deep chasm, round which the path winds, bearing a most cavern-like appearance: a little to the west, the camel path, called El Nishka, appears scarcely less difficult and precipitous; the more southern crags close in the landscape, while the foreground is occupied by the dingy and barren wadey 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.

Large masses of tabular basalt, and irregular precipices, common to this formation, are scattered over this range of hills, and extend over all the plains which environ them. The most lofty hills are those which present the most massive façades of tabular basalt; the sides sometimes exhibit a step-like appearance, and in many instances are overhung by pillars, curved, inclined, and perpendicular: these produce a singular effect, not devoid of grandeur. The lower stratum of all these hills is invariably limestone, mixed with a reddish clay. Hills of the same are found bordering upon, and in some cases joining, the basaltic ones; some of these are strewed over with a covering of basalt stones of various sizes and forms, none of them large, from three to eighteen inches in circumference, but still showing the colour and structure of the soil on which they are spread. Other hills of limestone are also indiscriminately found without the slightest particle of basalt on them, although in the immediate vicinity of what could easily be imagined the ancient crater of a volcano, which had showered a sombre covering heaved from the very bowels of the earth, on all the then existing hills and plains which surrounded it. Some of these limestone hills have been cut through, either by the falling of masses of rock from the higher hills, or by violent watercourses; and a section of them reveals nothing but pure limestone mixed with clay.

The Souda, or Gibel Assoud[4], extend from north to south, three days’ journey, but in so winding a direction, as not to exceed thirty-five miles at the utmost in a straight line: to the west, as far as the well called Assela, on the road to the Shiati, where the red clay hills continue alone, and join the hills at Benioleed: to the east, they extend three days on the road to Zella, or Bengagi, to a wadey called Temelleen.

The first four days of our journey, after leaving Agutifa, were all dreariness and misery. This was the third time that I passed these deserts: but no familiarity with the scenery at all relieves the sense of wretchedness which the dread barrenness of the place inspires. We marched from dawn until dark, for the sake of getting over them as quickly as possible; and as scarcely sufficient fuel was to be found to boil a little water, a mess of cold tumuta was usually our supper. On leaving Tingazeer, we had the blessing of a rainy day; for such it was to all, but particularly to the poor negroes who accompanied the kafila, although Boo-Khaloom always gave them to drink from his skins once in the day (an unusual kindness), yet marching as they were for twelve and fourteen hours, once scarcely satisfied nature. In consequence of the rain, we found water fresh and pure during almost every day’s march, and arrived at Zeghren[5] with the loss of only one camel. On the last day, previous to arriving at the well, Omhul Abeed, a skeleton of a man, with some flesh still hanging about him, lay close to the road; but it was passed by the whole kafila, with scarcely a remark.

After these dreary wastes, it was no small pleasure to rest a day at Zeghren, the native town of a considerable merchant who accompanied our kafila. When we first left Sockna for Mourzuk, Abdi Zeleel had before taken me to his house, and presented me to his mother and sister; and he now insisted on my taking up my quarters there altogether. Almost the first person that presented herself was my friend the merchant’s sister, I had almost said the fair, Omhal Henna[6]. She had a wooden bowl of haleeb (fresh milk) in her hand, the greatest rarity she could offer, and holding out the milk with some confusion towards me with both her hands, the hood which should have concealed her beautiful features had fallen back; as my taking the milk from her would have prevented the amicable salutation we both seemed prepared for, and which consisted of four or five gentle pressures of the hand, with as many _aish harlecks_, and _tiebs_, and _ham-dulillahs_, she placed the bowl upon the ground, while the ceremonies of greeting, which take a much longer time in an African village than in an English drawing-room, were, by mutual consent, most cordially performed. I really could not help looking at her with astonishment, and I heartily wish that I had the power of conveying an idea of her portrait. It was the _Jemma_ (Friday), the Sabbath, and she was covered, for I cannot call it dressed, with only a blue linen barracan, which passed under one arm, and was fastened on the top of the opposite shoulder with a silver pin, the remaining part thrown round the body behind, and brought over her head as a sort of hood, which, as I remarked, had fallen off, and my having taken her hand when she set down the milk had prevented its being replaced. This accident displayed her jet black hair in numberless plaits all round her expressive face and neck, and her large sparkling eyes and little mouth, filled with the whitest teeth imaginable. She had various figures burnt on her chin with gunpowder: her complexion was a deep brown; and round her neck were eight or ten necklaces of coral and different coloured beads. So interesting a person I had not seen in the country; and on my remaining some moments with my eyes fixed on her, she recommenced the salutation, “How is your health,” &c. and smiling, asked, with great naiveté, “whether I had not learnt, during the last two months, a little more Arabic.” I assured her I had. Looking round to see if any body heard her—and having brought the hood over her face—she said, “I first heard of your coming last night, and desired the slave to mention it to my brother. I have always looked for your coming, and at night, because at night I have sometimes seen you: you were the first man whose hand I ever touched—but they all said it did not signify with you, an _Insara_ (a Christian). God turn your heart!—but my brother says you will never become Moslem—won’t you, to please Abdi Zeleel’s sister? My mother says God would have never allowed you to come, but for your conversion.” By this time, again the hood had fallen back, and I again had taken her hand, when the unexpected appearance of Abdi Zeleel, accompanied by the governor of the town, who came to visit me, was a most unwelcome interruption. Omhal-henna quickly escaped; she had, however, overstepped the line, and I saw her no more.

Besides our own people, and the followers of Boo-Khaloom, we had a number of liberated slaves who were returning to their homes. The bashaw had given freedom to twenty-four from the castle, sixteen of whom were females. Our friend, Mohammed D’Ghies, had also liberated three young women, all under twenty, natives of Begharmi, the evening previous to our leaving Tripoli, telling them, in my presence, that his friends the English wishing to visit their country, was the cause of their being set at liberty. There are circumstances attached to this act of D’Ghies beyond the mere liberation of three healthy negresses, so creditable to the feelings of this excellent old man, that they must not be omitted. Two of these girls only had fallen into his hands, and on his intimating to them his intention of giving them their liberty, they told him that another sister had been brought to Tripoli with them, and sold, like themselves, to slavery; but they knew not what was become of her. Mohammed D’Ghies, after much inquiry, succeeded in finding out who had been the purchaser, paid the price demanded for her liberation, and provided the means for enabling all the sisters to return together to their own country with Boo-Khaloom.