Chapter II

People of Wadaï — Historical Facts — Sultan Seleih — How his Dynasty was founded — Abbaside descent — Boundary Mark in the Desert — Wars between Darfur and Wadaï — A wise Vizier — Youth of Saboun — His Schemes — How to win a Throne — A Sea of Blood — Fratricidal Battles — The Victor and the Vanquished — Ferocious Conduct — The Afrits or Robbers — A Brother still at large — He is taken and killed — Pacification of Wadaï.

The manners and customs of Wadaï have many points of resemblance with those of Darfur, but differ in some respects. The food of the people, the clothing of the women, and the ornaments used, are almost exactly the same in both countries; but there is a great difference in the government and the administration. The character of the people of Wadaï, too, is remarkable for liberality—a virtue not common in Darfur. I shall, however, before entering into detail on this subject, give some account of the origin of the reigning dynasty, for it is impossible to understand the manners of a country without knowing something of its history.

During my sojourn in Wadaï I noticed, that when I went on Friday to the mosque the Imâm invariably uttered this prayer,—“May God grant a victory everywhere to our Sultan Mohammed Abd-el-Kerim, son of the Sultan Mohammed Saleh, son of the Sultan Mohammed Gaudeh, son of the Sultan Seleih!” This suggested to me that I could ask some old men what was the origin of this Sultan Seleih. The answers given were various. Some said that he belonged to a tribe named Sennawides, after one of the mountains of the country.

But I afterwards observed, on the seal of the reigning Sultan, these words,—“The Sultan Mohammed, son of the Sultan Seleih, the Abbaside.” I sought to find out by what genealogical affiliation the name of that noble family could be mixed up with the history of these non-Arab peoples. But those whom I consulted gave me contradictory accounts, some saying that the reigning dynasty had no connexion with the Arabs, others affirming the contrary. A very sagacious person, the Aguid Ahmed, related to me, that when the Tartars had driven the Abbaside family from Bagdad, the kaliphate was removed to Egypt, and remained there until the Turks and the Mamlouks drove them out; that is to say, until the time of the Fatamites. The children of the Abbaside kaliphs, after the overthrow of their dynasty, were dispersed, and sought refuge in various countries. One of them went to Sennaar, and thence passed on to Wadaï, where he settled among the Pagan inhabitants of Mount Seloun. He fulfilled exactly the duties of his religion, praying, fasting, and performing the zikr and reciting the Koran. The people, whose friendship he had acquired, asked him why he did these things, and he answered, it was to do homage to God. “And what is God?” said they. “God is he who created the heavens and the earth, the night and the day, the sun, and the moon, and the stars, the trees and the rivers; his hand governs all these things.” The people of Seloun at length embraced Islamism, and Saleh, whom they called Seleih, after having well-instructed them, caused himself to be named the religious chief, and set about converting by arms, or other means, the neighbouring tribes. The four tribes first converted became, in some sort, the royal family of the country, from which the mothers of the Sultan must necessarily be derived. Such of the remaining peoples of Wadaï as accepted the new faith with readiness were declared to be free; whilst those who only yielded to force were reduced to slavery. In this way, according to this informant, was the dynasty of Seleih founded.

Other persons told me that the Sultans of Wadaï, Darfur, and Kordofal, were all descended from one father, who belonged to the Arab tribe called Fezarah; but as all these recitals are founded on mere oral traditions, God only knows the truth. For my part, I am inclined to believe the account which derives the great Seleih from the Abbasides, on account of the elevation of his character, the nobility of his mind, his piety, and his goodness. If he had preceded Hatim Tai by a day, Hatim would never have been chosen as the type of generosity in Arab poetry. How different is the paltry conduct and the poltroonery of the Forians from the valour and the easy hospitality of the Wadaïans! The differences of the qualities of the two nations are sufficient to prove the different origin of their Sultans; for a people is, in some sort, the creation of its governors. At any rate, one thing is certain, that the three states of Wadaï, Darfur, and Kordofal, are of recent establishment, not exceeding in age two hundred years.

An old man of Senoun once related to me that Salou Selman, sultan of Darfur, and Seleih, sultan of Wadaï, once met in the uninhabited space which separates the two countries, and there engaged, by oath, to live in peace one with the other. They measured the space between the cultivated land, and drew a line exactly in the centre, which they marked by very long and thick iron nails, driven into the trunks of the largest trees. They engaged reciprocally not to overpass this line with hostile intentions, and called God and man to witness what they promised. When I was travelling from Darfur to Wadaï, indeed, I saw in the midst of the forest, at the place where we met so great a number of rabbits and wild beasts, a line of trees, in each of which a bar of iron was stuck, advancing about a span. Each nail appeared to me about a cubit and a half long. The points did not stick out straight, but were beaten down, to prevent any accidental injuries to passers-by. The Fakih Ahmed told me at that time that this was the ancient boundary-mark of Wadaï and Darfur.

After the death of the two wise Sultans, their children, as is the custom with princes, began to cast covetous eyes on their neighbour’s property. He of Wadaï invaded Darfur, but was defeated with great loss, and under the next reign the Forians penetrated into Wadaï. The war that followed was most terrible, and in one of the battles the Forian Sultan himself was slain. The whole of this struggle reminds me of the war of Basous. The corpses of those who fell were devoured by birds of prey and by lions, or buried in huge pits.

One of the incidents related in connexion with this war is curious. The Sultan of Wadaï, Gaudeh, pretending to fly, had marched round in the rear of the Forian army, and interposed between them and their country. They believed, however, that he was utterly routed, and loudly expressed their joy. One vizier, however, remained silent, and on being asked by his master why he did not share in the general joy, replied that he did not believe in this easy victory, and offered to prove that the enemy’s army was even then marching towards them.

“How wilt thou do this?” said the Sultan.

“Bring me a she-camel,” replied the vizier, “with a man who knows how to milk.”

The camel was brought, and well washed, and the milk was drawn into a clean bowl, and placed, with a man to guard it, on the top of the Sultan’s tent. Next morning the vizier caused the bowl to be brought to him, and found the milk quite black. So he went to the Sultan and said,—

“Master, they are coming down upon us, and have marched all night.”

“How dost thou know that?”

“Look at this blackened milk.”

“In what way has it become black?”

“The dust raised by the feet of the horses has been carried hither by the wind.”

Some laughed at this explanation, but others believed, and looked out anxiously towards the west. In a short time, however, the manes of the hostile cavalry were seen shaking above the eastern horizon. Then followed the battle, in which the Forian Sultan was slain.

The grandson of the conqueror on this occasion was Mohammed Abd-el-Kerim, surnamed Saboun, who reigned at the time of my arrival. His father had two other sons, named Ahmed and Asyl, by another wife, who was his favourite, while the mother of Saboun and her child were treated with indifference. However, when Saboun grew up, his intelligence gave him great influence in the government, though his half-brothers enjoyed all the royal favour and care.

Saboun early created for himself numerous partisans, for he felt that he would have to dispute the throne by arms. Instead of wasting his time in sensual pleasures, he employed himself in study, in prayer, and, above all, in collecting arms, coats of mail, horses, and men. On one occasion he met some Magrebyn merchants armed with guns, and learned from them the use of them. From that day forward he bought all the fire-arms that came in his way, and made a large body of slaves study their use under the Magrebyn merchants.

These preparations alarmed the viziers, who went to Seleih, and represented to him that his son was making ready for an open revolt. He accordingly ordered Saboun to be brought before him, and one of the chiefs of the Turguenaks was sent to arrest him. These Turguenaks, who are also called Osban, are the instruments of the anger of the Sultan, and are always employed to effect important arrests. It happened that Saboun was sitting on his Tirgeh, a kind of platform, on a mound of earth, raised within the great enclosure of a palace. He descried the Turguenaks from afar off, and, collecting his people in time, prepared for resistance. It was, therefore, impossible to arrest him, and sufficient time was given for the anger of the Sultan to die away. He took counsel of his Ulemas, and other wise people, and the result was that Saboun’s innocence was made manifest, and he was suffered to live in quiet.

Some months after this event the Sultan fell seriously ill. His chief wife, who had borne no children, fearing that the throne would fall to Ahmed or Asyl, who had not the high qualities of Saboun, and who would certainly have deprived her of her title of queen, or, perhaps, put her to death, sent a secret messenger to the heir, announcing that his father was ill. He immediately collected his partisans in the villages in the neighbourhood of Warah, which word corresponds to the Fasher of the Forians, and waited for the event. When the Sultan died, the queen despatched a messenger to Saboun, telling him, that unless he acted that very night all would be lost, and that he must appear before the gates of the palace two hours after sunset. The sagacious prince collected his force accordingly, and appeared at the appointed time at the Warah. The great difficulty was to force the Iron Gate, which is the fourth of the seven gates. But, by a stratagem, the Fakih Mousa had obtained admission, and was ready to open. The guards were asleep. Saboun, with a few of his friends, advanced with naked feet on tip-toe until he reached the fourth gate; his signal was understood, and Mousa, who had won the confidence of the porter, and had taken the key, immediately went and opened.

“For whom dost thou undo the gate at night?” said the porter.

Mousa did not reply, and Saboun passed silently with his troop. The Fakih then seized a lance which belonged to the porter, who was half asleep, and said to him,—

“Dost thou know for whom I have opened the door?”

“No.”

“For thy master—the master of thy mother and thy father.”

So saying, Mousa stabbed the porter, and then, falling upon the guard, struck right and left, and killed fifteen of them. Saboun had collected a considerable force without, and about five hundred men entered after him and joined Mousa in the carnage. The people of the palace, on waking up, met with lance-thrusts hotter than burning coals. Some defended themselves desperately to the death, whilst others submitted. By the blessing of God some huts took fire, so that the Prince Saboun was enabled easily to recognise his enemies and make a horrible massacre of them. The guards of the palace came running forth to escape from the flames, and a great number were put to the sword. Without this conflagration to light up the carnage, Saboun might have been struck by a traitor-hand and have perished.

When the prince, by these means, saw that he was master of the palace, and delivered from all danger, he entered the chamber where were laid out the remains of his father. The corpse was decorated and adorned, and surrounded with the women of the harem. Saboun shed some tears, and said, “May God set to my account in heaven the misfortune that has befallen me—the death of my father!” Having made this pious observation,[27] he demanded the insignia of the Sultanship, that is to say, the imperial seal—a heirloom transmitted from sovereign to sovereign—the imperial sabre, the amulet, and the throne or seat of the Sultan. Very shortly all these objects were brought, except the seat, which the women, being hostile to the turn things had taken, would not at first give up. However, by threats and promises, Saboun succeeded in obtaining this precious article.

Meanwhile the combat continued without, and grew hotter and hotter. The Turguenaks, by this time being wide awake, attacked the soldiers of Saboun, who fell upon them with fury. The viziers of the opposite party came up, but were repulsed. The fight lasted the whole night, when the people of Saboun, having the upper hand, were joined by the vacillating, and tranquillity was at length restored.

The Princes Ahmed and Asyl, who had been journeying through the provinces, wantonly oppressing the people, came up next day at the head of an army, but were defeated and put to flight. Saboun thereupon gave thanks to God for his victory, and, appearing in the divan, caused himself to be recognised as chief of the state. He distributed all the important offices to his relations, and the whole of Wadaï submitted to him, partly from affection and partly from fear.[28] The rout of Ahmed and his partisans stifled the expression of malevolence. The number of the dead was considerable, and blood had flowed in abundance. A poet has well said, “Men of great power cannot escape from danger unless they surround themselves with an ocean of blood.”

This event happened towards the middle of the month of Rejeb, I believe, 1219 of the Hegira (A.D. 1804). Saboun remained in peace for nearly two months, after which he marched against his brother Ahmed, who, having escaped from the carnage of Warah, had succeeded in collecting a respectable army. The Sultan feared that, if he did not act with vigour, many tribes might revolt, and thus produce great disasters. He accordingly marched a whole night and a whole day without pausing, and came in presence of his brother’s army. The partisans of Ahmed had spread the report that Saleh was not dead, and that Saboun must be considered to be in a state of revolt against him. The wise Sultan, before beginning hostilities, sent a messenger to the hostile viziers, challenging them to produce the old king, and offering, if they did so, to fall at his feet. The only answer made consisted of violent words; upon which Saboun performed his ablutions, uttered his prayers, and, in presence of his army, demanded of God to assist him in triumphing over his enemies.

The battle began. In the twinkling of an eye, swifter than the flight of the falcon on its prey, swifter than lightning, Saboun rushed upon his enemies, who were at once thrown into disorder, and took to flight. A proclamation was at once issued, offering a generous reward to whoever should bring him his brother prisoner. In consequence, Ahmed was brought in before the setting of the sun, overwhelmed with shame and despair. By order of Saboun, he and all his relations were laden with irons, and thus attended the victorious prince returned to Warah, where he passed a comfortable night, rejoicing in his success.

Next morning the tambourines were beaten, and the troops were assembled. The crowd gathered together and filled the court in front of the palace. The Sultan appeared; the standards were waving around him; over his head spread the parasol; and the great fans of ostrich feathers gently stirred the air. Every emir took his place; every functionary of the state occupied the position reserved for him. The interpreters unfolded their line, and the Osban stood around, clothed in the insignia of vengeance and of terror. The Sultan ordered Ahmed, and all those who had taken part with him, to be brought forth. These wretched men advanced in the most pitiable plight, with short, stumbling steps, for they had irons on their hands and their feet. When they were set out in order Saboun addressed his brother, and said to him:—

“Debauched scoundrel that thou art, traitor, libertine, impostor, adulterer, oppressor, contemptible tyrant, brutal despot! dost thou think that a being such as thou art is capable of acting as sovereign chief and councillor, of governing men, and dispensing justice? No! insensate was thy presumption; detestable were thy thoughts. Thou capable of guiding the servants of the sovereign of worlds! thou art not even fit to keep sheep.” He then proceeded to accuse his brother of various acts of tyranny, of dishonouring modest women, and of spilling blood, of overpassing the bounds set by God, of trampling on all that was sacred, and concluded by challenging him to disprove these charges.

Ahmed, with a bold, firm, and resolute voice, replied,—“Hold thy peace! May God split thy mouth and confound thee, coward, rebel to thy father, excommunicated from the pity of God! Certainly chance has made a sad mistake in giving sovereign power to thee; but the mistake will be repaired, let us hope. Dost thou think that I fear the savage treatment thou art preparing for me? Do I not know that the utmost of thy power is to say, ‘Let him be killed?’ Go; to die is better than to be in the presence of a being so vile as thou art.” The Sultan then addressed the Ulemas and the doctors of the law, and said to them: “What is the judgment which the code of Islam pronounces against this rebel?” They answered that he must be put to death, or have a hand and a foot cut off. The text of the words of God is as follows:—“He who revolts against the Creator and his representative, and shall spread disorder and rebellion in a country, shall die a violent death, shall be hanged, or shall have a hand and a foot cut off, or _shall be exiled_.”[29]

Upon this the Sultan ordered the Mirwed, or iron tongs, to be heated, and applied to the eyes of his brother Ahmed, who, being thus blinded, was thrown into a prison, where he remained to the end of his life.

In the same sitting Saboun pronounced judgment on the captive viziers, ordering them to be put to death by the kabartou, or executioners. These kabartou accordingly surrounded the unhappy men, and felled them with iron clubs. The viziers contended who should meet death in the bravest manner, and vied who should first present his head. They feared to dishonour themselves by the slightest act of timidity; for in Wadaï there is nothing so contemptible as cowardice.

Having in this way got rid of the viziers who were related to Ahmed, and having nothing to fear from their party, Saboun reigned with justice and equity, and attracted the admiration of his neighbours. Crowds came to contemplate him in his glory, just as of old Pagan races used to throng the temples to behold some great idol.[30]

One of Saboun’s first cares was to destroy the terrible robbers called Afrits, or devils. He thus ensured the safety of the roads, so that during his reign a solitary woman, even covered with gold, might venture into solitary places and have nothing to fear, except from the Most High. But whilst the Sultan gave tranquillity to others he remained himself disquieted. The thought that his brother Asyl was abroad prevented him from taking rest, and embittered all his pleasures. He waited impatiently until God should give him an opportunity of freeing himself from fear. That nothing on his part, however, might be wanting to effect this desirable result, he invented a stratagem by which he decoyed Asyl from Darfur, where he had taken refuge, and, having got him into his power, addressed him in the same terms which he had used towards Ahmed, and then ordered him to be put to death. Thus God delivered Wadaï. That was a day of rejoicing such as the country had never seen.[31]