Re f= yO UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT. URBANA-CHAMPAIGN BOOKSTACKS The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its return to the library from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. To renew call Telephone Center, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN Aug 2 0[1983. FEB 2 © 1999 | SEP 1 3 1983 DEC 15 1988 FEB 07 1991 L161—O-1096 — ta: rs MECCAH BY EDITED BY LADY BURTON WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY STANLEY LANE*POOLE VOL, | LONDON G. BELL AND SONS, LTD. A) : Yf CAPT. SIR RICHARD F. BURTON YAR # Or 2O4uUL- Gu si" I CGAOS is ustt FaRewal us|, Awd | 7787 §$ +6 Oe IGG Be 90D a7 Dark and the Desert and Destriers me ker, And the Glaive and the Joust, and Paper and Pen. Al-M utanably PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY PURNELL AND SONS PAULTON, SOMERSET, ENGLAND at NG Pe Nor 5 ; OF 1% - DEERE era Re Sep Pe" LOU ME: 3 | PAGE Introduction. By STANLEY LANE-POOLE - -~ Ix i@eectace to the Third Edition - - <- = (+ xxi I Preface to the First Edition PE ele oct XX oh] te Part I.—At-Misr. CHAPTER. He I.—To Alexandria. A Few Words concerning : what induced me to a Pilgrimage - i p iJ.—I leave Alexandria - - d eT: {I].—The Nile Steamboat.—The “ Little Asth- YD matic” - : 2 - : - 29 “ —s«[V,—Life in the Wak4lah - : : 4 - 4! 3 V.—The Ramazan - ° . : - <7 4 RleeBncsMocquesw chars, Pace ben id 99 VII.—Preparations to Quit Cairo - : - 115 VIIl.—From CairotoSuez+ - - - «+ rar IX,.—Suez . - - ae: ee - - 160 X.—The Pilgrim Ship - - - - - 186 768492 VI Contents. CHAPTER. PAGE XI.~-To Yambu’ - . . ° . XII.—The Halt at Yambu’ - : ° 7 : XIII.—From Yambu’ to Bir Abb4és’ - ° - XIV.—From Bir Abbas to Al-Madinah ° : Part II.—A.-Mapinau. XV.—Through the Suburb of Al-Madinah to Hamid’s House - - . - - XVI.—A Visit to the Prophet’s Tomb - - XVII.—An Essay towards the History of the Prophet’s Mosque - - . : : XVIIL.—Al-Madinah *\-*. >. XIX. -XX.—The Visitation of Hamzah’s Tomb - : A Ride to the Mosque of Kuba ~—s_—- 2 > INTRODUCTION Tue “Pilgrimage” to the Holy Cities of Isldm, records the ‘most famous adventure of one of the boldest explorers of this century, and stands in need of no recommendation from any- body. More then forty years have passed since its first appearance, yet it is not forgotten, but seems as fresh now, in its middle age, as when it astonished the world at its birth in 1855. Its vivid descriptions, its pungent uncompromising style, its intense personal “note”, distinguish it broadly from the common run of books of travel; and the picture it gives of Arab life and manners, the insight it reveals in Semitic ideas, give it a permanent value as a national record, as true to-day as half a century ago, and as true then as a thousand years before. Dashed off in Burton's rapid impulsive way, the book is the strangest compound of keen observation, wide Oriental learning, a grim sardonic humour, and an insobriety of opinion expressed in the writer’s vigorous verna- cular. As a brilliant account of the Muslim Hajj and the life of the pilgrims, and as a candid revelation of a powerful un. bridled character, the book will hold a place of its own among the classics of travel, and, unlike many classics, it will also hold its readers. It is, however, neither “to bury Cesar” after the manner of classics, nor yet “to praise him” that these few pages are set in front of so well-known a work as the Pilgrimage of the “Hajj Abdullah.” Their object is rather to discover how Burton came to achieve this astonishing feat without detec- tion. Anyone, of course, who chooses to profess Islam publicly before the Mohammadan authorities, has the right to go on _ pilgrimage to the Holy Cities, the Harameyn of Arabia; and he would probably accomplish the journey in safety unless the devout mob were in an unusually fanatical temper or had suspicions of the sincerity of his conversion. Burton, however, made no such profession of faith; he posed, not as a rene. gade from Christianity, but as a born Muslim. “My spirit.” oe Introduction he wrote, “could not bend to own myself a Burmd, a rene. gade—to be pointed at and shunned and catechised, an object of suspicion to the many and of contempt to all.” He would go as a born believer. He seemed to find a moral superiority in the larger, more fundamental deception, and to the casuist the delicate distinction offers a tempting problem Worthy people have cast heavy stones at Burton for his assumed apostasy, but he is probably within his rights in maintaining that this is a matter which concerns nobody but himself. There can be no question, however, that his imper- * sonation multiplied the difficulties of the task. In the new convert much might be excused on the ground of unfami- liarity with the customs, ritual, and language; but the born Muslim had no such refuge. He must be circumspect in every act and word, ever on his guard lest a trivial lapse in ordinary behaviour, still more the slightest deviation from prescribed religious observances, bewray him. No one who has not studied Islam in its own lands can realise the minute- ness and multiplicity of the rules which every Muslim continually observes in all the common acts of daily life. Burton has given one example, in the various processes composing the simple operation of drinking water (p. 6); and it may be added that the position of the thumbs in performing a ve&‘a or bowing at prayer may convict a man of flagrant heresy. All these details must not only have been known but assiduously practised by “Hajj Abdullah” before he ventured to risk his life in the pilgrimage: for in such a case discovery un- questionably spelt death. The inevitable penalty of detection perhaps suggested the popular legend that Burton shot a man or two, who discovered him in an unorthodox attitude. Apart from other objections, he carried no firearms. His own modest ~ confession was that he never killed a man in his life, and one can imagine that he made it with a certain regret. The successful disguise which carried Burton through the perils described in these volumes was no new experiment. He had practised it frequently in India. Indeed the ten years preceding the pilgrimage to Mekka were chiefly spent in a long apprenticeship to Eastern life. Curst, or blest, with a spirit of incurable restlessness, his life had been a wanderer’s almost from the first. How the man whom his Zl Introduction ‘XI friends affectionately and not inappropriately called “Ruffian Dick” came to be grandson of the Reverend Edward Burton, rector of Tuam, is one of the mysteries of heredity; but there were other elements in his ancestry to which he showed a more natural affinity. His father, Lieut.-Colonel Joseph Netterville Burton of the 36th Regiment, was a thorough Irishman and a confirmed wanderer. Through him came not only the Irish daredevilry, but also the primitive instincts of the Westmoreland Border. From his mother he inherited “a strain of the MacGregors, and he was proud of a remote drop of Bourbon blood from the wrong side of the blanket. People even discovered in his face as well as his character a touch of the Gipsy race, ever wild and intractable, fierce and resentful, intolerant of convention and self-restraint. His bringing-up encouraged his natural impulse. Born in Hert- fordshire,—quite a respectable county—19 March, 1821, his childhood was spent partly in France, partly in Italy, and an irreguiar education, however stimulating to his genius for spoken dialects, ended at Trinity College, Oxford, somewhat siimmarily, in rustication. It is not easy to picture Burton at chapel and lecture, but one can readily fancy him “gated,” and even view him arguing his case with aflomd before an amazed but magisterial common-room. How completely out of touch with Oxford ideas was this young fire-eater, fresh from continental life, may be judged by his treatment of the ordinary undergraduate, who laughed at his fierce moustache, and was immediately requested to name his seconds|! He was scarcely more in his element when he found him- self a lieutenant in the 18th Bombay Native Infantry at Baroda in October 1842. Discipline of any sort was distaste- ful to the “amateur barbarian,” and he wearied of the un- varying mess and the Anglo-Indian notion of life, “with its dull routine of meaningless parades and tiresome courts- martial,—where the business of life is comprised in ignoble official squabbles, dislikes, disapprobations, and ‘references tO superior authority’, where social intercourse is crushed by ‘gup’, gossip, and the scandal of small colonial circles”— so he wrote of Aden a little later. He thirsted for freedom, and his appointment soon afterwards as assistant in the Survey of Sind gave him the liberty and opportunities he wanted. x Introduction The seven years he spent in India, in fact, laid the founda. tions of all his later achievements. The talent for languages, | discovered in Europe, was developed in India in marvellous - perfection. Even at Oxford he had begun to teach himself Arabic. In London he had worked at Hindustani with old Duncan Forbes. But once in the fiving East his industry and attainments became phenomenal. One after the other he mastered the various spoken languages and dialects of the people of India. Hindustani, Gujarati, Marathi, Persian, Multani, even the complexities of Arabic, seemed to come~ by nature, and in the Government examinations he came out first. A visit to the Deccan on sick-leave in 1847 led to the study of Dravidian tongues, Telugu and Toda; and at odd times he amused himself with Sanskrit, Turkish, Pushtu, and Armenian. Thus equipped, he mixed with the people as one of themselves. “So,” as he wrote in a fragment of autobiography, “after the first year, when I had Persian at my fingers’ ends, sufficient Arabic to read, write, and converse fluently, and a superficial knowledge of that dialect of Punjaubee which is spoken in the wilder parts of the province, I began the systematic study of the Sindian people. “The first difficulty was to pass for an Oriental, and this was as. necessary as it was difficult, The European official in India seldom, if ever, sees anything in its real light, so dense is the veil which the fearfulness, the duplicity, the prejudice, and the superstitions of the natives hang before his eyes, And the white mam lives a life so dis- tinct from the black, that hundreds of the former serve through what they call their ‘term of exile’ without once being present at a circum- cision feast, a wedding, or a funeral... After trying several characters, the easiest to be assumed was, I found, that of a half-Arab, half- Iranian, such as may be met with in thousands along the northern shore of the Persian gulf. “With hair falling upon his shoulders, a long beard, face and hands, arms and feet, stained with a thin coat of henna, Mirza Abdullah of Bushire—your humble servant—set out upon many and many a trip. He was a éazzaz, a vendor of fine linen, calicoes, and muslins—such chapmen are sometimes admitted to display their wares, even in the sacred harem, by ‘fast’ and fashionable dames—and he had a little pack of Jdijouterie and vertu reserved for emergencies. It was only, however, when absolutely necessary that he displayed his stock-in- trade; generally, he contented himself with alluding to it on all possible occasions, boasting largely of his traffic, and asking a thou- rand questions concerning the state of the market. Thus he could walk into most. men’s houses, quite without ceremony; even if the master dreamed of kicking him out, the mistress was sure to oppose fntroduction XIII such measures with might and main, He secured numberless invitations, was proposed to by several papas, and won, or had to think he won, a few hearts; for he came as a rich man, and he stayed with dignity, and he departed exacting all the honours. “The timid villagers collected in crowds to see the rich merchant in Oriental dress, riding. spear in hand, and pistols in his holsters, ‘towards the litthe encampment pitched near their settlements. But ‘regularly every evening on the line of march the Mirza issued from his tent and wandered amongst them, collecting much information. Now and then he rented a shop, and furnished it with clammy dates, viscid molasses, tobacco, ginger, rancid oil, and strong-smelling sweet- meats; and wonderful tales Fame told about these establishments. “Sometimes the Mirza passed the evening in a mosque, listening to the ragged students who, stretched at full length with their stomachs on the dusty floor, and their arms supporting their heads, mumbled out Arabic from the thumbed, soiled, and tattered pages of theology upon which a dim oil light shed its scanty ray; or he sat debating the niceties of faith with the long-bearded, shaven-pated, blear-eyed, and stolid-faced genius loci, the Mullah. At other times, when in merrier mood, he entered uninvited the first door whence issued the sounds ef music and the dance;—a clean turban and a polite bow are the best ‘tickets for soup’ the East knows. Or he played chess with some native friend, or he consorted with the hemp drinkers and opium- éaters in the es/aminets, or he visited the Mrs. Gadabouts and Gobe- tweens who make matches amongst the Faithful, and gathered from them a precious budget of private history and domestic scandal. “What scenes he saw! What adventures he went through! But who would believe, even if he ventured to detail them?” * This is his own story, and Burton might be suspected without offence of an occasional use of the “long bow,’ as well as the sword, whereof he became a famous maitre d’armtes: but the facts are confirmed by other witnesses, and there is ‘no doubt that his disguise in dress, manners, and languages was so perfect that he even deceived his own Persian muzshz, to say nothing of the far easier feat of passing his mess-mates and commanding officer unrecognised. A wig and goggles may do wonders, but it is when the beak opens that the parrot stands confessed. His wanderings in Sind whilst engaged on the Survey led to the production of one of his most interesting and vivid books, “Scinde or the Unhappy Valley” (published in 1851). During his seven years in India he had written much: gram- matical papers on Jataki, Multdni, and Pushtu, for the Journal * Life of Sir R. F. Burton, by Isabel Burton, & 155-7. KIV Introduction of the Bombay Branch of the Asiatic Society (1849); reports | to Government on Sind; a volume on the races of the Valley | of the Indus; ‘“‘Goa and the Blue Mountains” (1851); and « “Falconry in the Valley of the Indus” (1852). Fever and severe opthalmia, partly due to over-study and over-exertion,— combined with disgust at seeing no fighting, and disappoint- ment at the ill-success of his application for the post of interpreter in the Sikh War—led to his return to Europe in 1850 on sick-leave. It was practically the end of his Indian | career. “ Already, when mingling with the Muslims in Sind, Burton had formed the wish to visit Mekka during the pilgrimage; but it would be a mistake to set down that adventurous journey, described in these volumes, wholly to curiosity and love of danger. The pilgrimage of 1853 was designed as a part of a iarger scheme-—to cross “The Empty Abode,” the great Eastern wilderness, to Maskat, and by this exploration to remove a discreditable “huge white blot” from the map of Arabia. The scheme was frustrated by a quarrel amongst the tribes, ana only the first stage was accomplished. It is but just to remember that with Burton the passion of the ex- plorer marched far? passu with the restlessness of the wan- derer: rove he must, but he would rove by preference in untrodden paths, and thus make his love of adventure minister to the advance of geographical science. He had been in communication with the Royal Geograph- ical Society before the Mekka pilgrimage, and his next journey was undertaken with a strictly geographical object. The Indian Government had long desired an exploration of the dangerous Somali country, which had, and has still, a special importance for the Red Sea trade; and Burton’s proposal to conduct a small expedition was cautiously accepted. He had but lately returned to Bombay from Arabia, but October 1854 found him back again at Aden preparing to enter another terra incognita. He had the cooperation of three young officers, one of them Lieutenant Speke; but the most peril- ous and difficult part of the exploration, the journey into the interior to Harar, the capital of the country, he achieved alone. No one, not even the Roman Catholic Missionaries, had entered this forbidding city, which shared with Tim. fatroduction XV buktu the reputation of the white man’s grave: “The bigoted | and barbarous people threatened death to the infidel who ventured within its walls; some negro Merlin having, it is said, read Decline and Fall in the first footsteps of the Frank.” This courageous adventure has never been appreciated as it deserves. Lady Burton does not exaggerate (for once) when she describes it as “one of his most splendid and dangerous expeditions. He disappeared into the desert for four months; but this unnoticed, unknown journey has been of great importance to the Egyptians, to the English, and now to,.the Itahan army. At last the ‘Dreadful City’ was sighted, and relying on his good Star and audacity, he walk- ed boldly in, sending his compliments to the Amir and ask- ing for audience. His diplomacy on this occasion, his capacity for passing as an Arab, and his sound Mohammadan theo. logy, gave him ten days in the city, where he slept every night in peril of his life.’ The return journey was even more hazardous; he was now dogged by hostile tribesmen, bis provisions, and, worse still, water ran short, and he crossed done thirsty desert in daily expectation of death by violence or starvation. The narrative of the expedition to Harar, “First Footsteps in East Africa” (1856) is one of the most exciting, amusing, learned, and thorough, of his many books of travel. Hardly had he. got. back to Aden from this ex- hausting ride when, in attempting to lead a further expedi- tion into Somali Land in April 1855, he was set upon by the natives; one of his officers, Stroyan, was killed; Speke re- ceived eleven wounds, and Burton himself spent an agonis- ing night with a javelin through his mouth which he could not draw out. He was made of tougher stuff, however, than to care about javelin wounds. Vhe misadventure did not daunt him, for after volunteering for the Crimean War “to recover his spirits,’ and holding a congenial] commission in Beatson's Bashi-Bozuks at the Dardanelles, which had the bad luck to get into official disgrace and never smelt powder, he was back in Fast Africa, this time at Zanzibar, by December 1856. The journey to Harar, the first attempt to penetrate East Africa from the Red Sea, had led to larger efforts. ‘The Royal Geographical Society had marked the born explorer, and XVI Introduction had induced the Foreign Office to send him out to investi. gate the unknown Lake region of Equatorial Africa, where lay the hidden sources of the Nile. He was again accom- ~ panied by Speke, and after many adventures, difficulties, and hardships, in February 1858 they were the first Euro- peans to set eyes on Lake Tanganyika. After exploring the northern end of the lake, Burton fell ill, but in July he had already roughly mapped out from Arab information the position of the Ukerewe Lake, or Victoria Nyanza; and during his disablement Captain Speke went north and found - the great lake exactly where Burton had placed it. On the unhappy disputes that followed there is no need to dwell. Burton had discovered the Tanganyika and Speke had found the Victoria Nyanza, and each claimed to have at last settled the eternal problem of //e source of the Nile. The really important point to notice is that Burton’s expedition was the forerunner and direct incentive to all subsequent explorations: his discovery of the Tanganyika led to the later and more renowned journeys of Speke and Grant, Baker, Livingstone, and Stanley; and his work on “The Lake Regions of Equa- torial Africa” (1860, with the 33rd volume of the Proceed- ings of the Royal Geographical Society) is the true parent of the ponderous literature of Central African exploration. As Burton was the first Englishman who succeeded in per- forming the Pilgrimage to Medina and Mekka, so was he the first to visit the interior of East Africa, and the first to enter the region of the great Equatorial Lakes. He was the original pioneer in those countries which under the names of British and Italian Somali Land and British East Africa have since acquired international significance, and are probably destined to play an important part in the future development of the no longer Dark Continent. Three years later he was exploring another part of Africa which also has been brought into the front of imperial “questions” —the Gold Coast, Da- homey, and the Bight of Benin. By accident, foresight, or, as he would have said, Fate, he was in the van of three great movements in the expansion of England. A statesman, who afterwards held the seals of the Foreign Office, remarked with truth that before middle age Burton had crowded into his life “more of study, more of hardship, and more of success- Introduction xvn ful enterprise and adventure than would have sufficed to fill up the existence of half a dozen ordinary men.” “Such a career,” continued Lord Stanley, ‘does as much as a succes3- ful campaign to keep up in the minds of the English people that spirit of adventure and of enterprise, that looking to reputation rather than to money, to love of effort rather than to ease,—the old native English feeling which has made -this country what it has become, and without which our wealth and our material prosperity would not be worth one year’s purchase.” After 1858 Burton saw no more of the interior of East _ Africa. The quarrel with Speke, and the way in which his own services were passed over, embittered him, and he made a tour in the western world to recover tone. He travelled nearly 30,000 miles by sea and land. Visiting Salt Lake City, he expressed a wish to be received into the community of the Mormons; but Brigham Young, remembering the Mekka incident, shook his head and shrewdly replied, ‘‘ No, Captain, I think you have done that sort of thing once before!” Nevertheless Burton’s “City of the Saints” (1861) presented a vivid picture of Mormon life, “the most accurate description,” said a good judge, of “morally, the most eccentric. pheno: menon of our days.” Since 1849 Captain Burton’s connexion with the Indian army had been somewhat nominal; in 1&61 he entered the service of the Foreign Office, and remained a consul for the rest of his life. In that year he married Isabel Arundell, and of all the exploits of his varied career there was none which so honoured him as his power to win that rare and exquisite devotion with which she worshipped and served him through nearly thirty. years of trial, hard work, poverty, exile, deadly climates, official difficulties, and latterly frequent illness. Lady Burton’s romantic, ill-balanced, exaggerated bio- graphy of her husband is, with all its patent faults, one of the most pathetic and moving monuments which the unselfish love of a woman has ever raised to the memory of her hero No man could dare to call himself wortny of such devotion. Unlucky in many things, “Ruffian Dick” was supremely fortunate in his marriage. In a merely material sense, too, Mrs. Burton brought her husband better fortune. Her connexions enabled her to keep XVII [atreduction him before the official mind, and it is safe to say that with. out her aid he would have found some difficulty in getting and more in keeping-his consular appointments. He held successively the consulates at Fernando Po, from 1861, Santos in Brazil, 1865, Damascus, 1869, and ‘Trieste, 1871 to. 1890. Of these the one post for which his tastes, knowledge, and experience seemed to have peculiarly fitted him was the Damascus consulate, where he found himself completely in his element, and looked forward to years of work among the Arabs and in Arabic literature. The causes which led to his © summary recall cannot be discussed within the limits of these few pages, but although it is well known that the Foreign Office resorts to such extreme measures with the greatest reluctance and only upon grave provocation, Burton’s friends and students of the East never ceased to regret his loss at Damascus and his comparative obscurity at Trieste. It was certainly a curious anomaly that two of the most brilliant Arabic scholars of the day should be placed officially where their special acquirements were peculiarly useless—Burton at the Consulate of Trieste, and Palgrave at the Legation ot Montevideo. Incompatibility of temper accounts for much, however, in official as well as domestic life, and perhaps neither of these distinguished scholars was particularly easy to live with, or made a model subordinate. Burton’s opportunities, however, were not neglected at his various consular posts. His explorations whilst stationed at Fernando Po led to the publication of two Volumes of “Wanderings in West Africa” (1863), two more on “Abeo- kuta and the Cameroons” (1863), and yet another pair on his “Mission to the King of Dahomé” (1864), with a con- cluding “Wit and Wisdom from West Africa” (1864). “The Highlands of Brazil” (1869), represented the results of his experience at Santos and in the interior of South America. “Letters from the Battlefields of Paraguay” (1870), record a journey across the continent from Argentina to Peru. The residence at Damascus and many excursions are reflected in “Unexplored Syria”, in which his intrepid wife collabor- ated (1872). Other works of his later years, the fruit of various journeys and revisitings of former scenes, were “Zanzibar” (1872), “Ultima Thule, a summer in Iceland” (1845), “Gorilla Introduction XIX Land or the Cataracts of the Congo” (1875), “Etruscan Bologna” (1876), “Sind revisited” (1877), ““The Gold Mines of Midian” (1878), “The Land of Midian” (1879), “To the Gold Coast for Gold” (1883). Most of these works were in two volumes, and the total number of volumes he published was nearly seventy. On his favourite weapon he wrote “The Book of the Sword” Vol. I, (1884), and “ A New System of Sword Exer- cise” (1875), besides a “Complete System of Bayonet Exer. cise” (1853). He contributed papers to the proceedings of the Royu Geographical, Asiatic, and Anthropological Societies, and wrote for various magazines and newspapers. Among his latest wo.ks were his translations of the Lusiads of Camoens (6 Vols. 1880), and of the Arabian Nights (16 Vols. 1885—8). Burton’ translation of the Arabian Nights is, in its way, even more celebrated than his Pilgrimage to Mekka. When he was making his less famous journey to Harar, he used to delight his Arab friends at Zeyla by reading them tales from the Thousand and One Nights “that wonderful work, so often translated, so much turned over, and so little understood at home. The most familiar of books in England, next to the Bible, it is one of the least known; the reason being that about one-fifth is utterly unfit for translation; and the most sanguine Orientalist would not dare to render literally more than three-quarters of the remainder. Consequently the reader loses the contrast—the very essence of the book.” * The “san- guine Orientalist”’ nevertheless did dare to attempt thirty years later what he declared to be impossible in 1855; but he ex- pressly prepared his “literal rendering”’ for the use of students, and printed it for private circulation, As a monument of his Arabic learning and his encyclopedic knowledge of Eastern life the translation of the Thousand and One Nights was Burton's greatest achievement. It is open to criticism in many ways, but when all is said, it is a remarkable performance. It reveals its writer’s astonishing familiarity with the avgot and “Billingsgate” of the Arabs, no less than with their most secret, and, it must be added, most disgusting habits. As a witness to his profound acquaintance with the vocabulary and customs of the Muslims, the translation is unimpeachable; but * R, F. Burton, First Footsteps in East Africa, i, 26 (Memorial Ed.). xX Introduction it testifies no less clearly to an attitude of attraction towards all that is most repulsive in life and literature, which has procured it a peculiar notoriety that has no relation to its scholarship. The “anthropological” notes, which have obtained it a costly but unenviable place among the works labelled “curious” in booksellers’ catalogues, evince an intimate ac- quaintance with Oriental depravity, the confession of which has at best the merit of boldness, whilst the elaborate exposition of so much indescribable filth can scarcely be matter of congratulation. It seems that the Pilgrimage to Mekka itself was only saved from the top shelf by the absence of its author from England; for -Sir Gardner Wilkinson, to whom the manuscript was entrusted, remarked that the amount of unpleasant garbage which he took upon himself to reject would have rendered the book unfit for publication. Apart from this characteristic, the translation of the Thousand and One Nights is often marked by extraordinary resource and felicity in the exact reproduction of the sense. Burton’s vocabulary was marvellously extensive, and he often found the right expression where everyone else had failed. But his fancy for archaic words and phrases, his habit of coining a word when none seemed fitted to his purpose, and the harsh and rugged style he aftected, detract from the literary quality of the work without really enhancing its fidelity to the original. With grave defects, but sometimes brilliant merits, the translation holds a mirror to its author. Sir Richard Burton, who was created a Knight Commander of the most distinguished Order of St. Michael and St. George in 1885, held his consulship at Trieste for eighteen years, and died there 20th October, 1890, in his seventieth year. His body was embalmed, and rests at Mortlake under an Arab tent, of stone and marble, erected by his devoted wife. STANLEY LANE-POOLE, Pier ACE TO THE etn LL TON. Arter a lapse of twenty-five years, a third edition of my Pilgrimage has been called for by the public, to whom I take this opportunity of returning thanks. Messrs. Mullan have chosen the very best opportunity. My two publications concerning the Khedival Expeditions to Midian (**The Gold Mines of Midian,” and “The Land of Midian Revisited”), are, as I have stated in the Preface, sequels and continuations of this Pilgrimage from which the adventures forming their subject may be said-to date. The text has been carefully revised, and the ‘“‘bag- gage of notes’ has been materially lightened. From the Appendix I have removed matter which, though useful to the student, is of scant general interest. The quaint and interesting ‘Narrative and Voyages of Ludovicus Vertomannus, Gentleman of Rome,’ need no longer be read in extracts, when the whole has been printed by the Hakluyt Society. (The Travels of Ludovico di Var- thema in Egypt, Syria, Arabia Deserta and Arabia Felix, in Persia, India, and Ethiopia, a.p. 1503 to 1508. Trans- lated from the original Italian edition of 1510, with a Preface by John Winter Jones, Esq., F.S.A., and edited, 1 These omitted notes and appendices have all been restored to the present Edition. XXU Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccan. with notes. and an Introduction, by George Percy Badger, late Government Chaplain in the Presidency of Bombay. London.) On the other hand, I have inserted after the Appendix, with the permission of the author, two highly interesting communications from Dr. Aloys Sprenger, the - well-known Orientalist and Arabist, concerning the routes of the Great Caravans. My friend supports his suspicions — that an error of direction has been mads, and geographers) will enjoy the benefit of his conscientious studies, topo- . graphical and linguistic. : The tment attacks made upon pilgrims and Dar- wayshes call fora few wordsof notice. Even that learned and amiable philanthropist, the late Dr. John Wilson of Bombay (‘Lands of the Bible,” vol. ii., p. 302) alludes, in the case of the Spaniard Badia, alias Ali Bey al-Abbasi, to the “unjustifiable fanciful disguise of a Mohammedan Pilgrim.” The author of the Ruddy Goose Theory (‘‘ Voice of Israel from Mount Sinai’’) and compiler of the ‘“His- torical Geography of Arabia” has dealt a foul blow to the memory of Burckhardt, the energetic and inoffensive Swiss traveller, “whose name has ever been held in the highest repute. And now the ‘‘ Government. Chaplain ” indites (Introduction, p. xxvii.) the following invidious remarks touching the travels of Ludovico di Varthema —the viv Deo carus, be it remarked, of the learned and laical Julius. Cesar Scaliger: “This is not the place to discuss the morality of an act involving the deliberate and voluntary denial of what a man holds to be truth in a matter so sacred as that of Religion. Such a violation of conscience is not justifiable by the end which the renegade (!) may have in view, however abstractedly praiseworthy it may be; and even granting that his demerit should be gauged by the amount of knowledge which he possesses of what is true and what false, the conclusion is inevitable, that nothing short of utter ignorance of the precepts of his faith, or a Preface to the Third Edition. XXII conscientious disbelief in them, can fairly relieve the Christian, who conforms to Islamism without a corres- ponding persuasion of its verity, of the deserved odium all honest men attach to apostasy and hypocrisy.” The reply to this tirade is simply, ‘‘Judge not; especi- ally when you are ignorant of the case which you are judging.” Perhaps also the writer may ask himself, Is. it right for those to cast stones who dwell in a tenement not devoid of fragility ? The second attack proceeds from a place whence no man would reasonably have expected it. The author of the “Narrative of a Year’s Journey through Central and Eastern Arabia” (vol. i., pp. 258-59) thus expresses his opinions :— ‘Passing oneself. off for a wandering Darweesh, as some European explorers have attempted to do in the East, is for more reasons than one a very bad plan. It is unnecessary to dilate on that moral aspect of the pro- ceeding which will always first strike unsophisticated minds. To feign a religion which the adventurer himself does not believe, to perform with scrupulous exactitude, as of the highest and holiest import, practices which he inwardly ridicules, and which he intends on his return to hold up to the ridicule of others, to turn for weeks and months together the most sacred and awful bearings of man towards his Creator into a deliberate and truthless mummery, not to mention other and yet darker touches, —all this seems hardly compatible with the character of a European gentleman, let alone that of a Christian.” This comes admirably @ propos from a traveller who, born a Protestant, of Jewish descent, placed himself ‘in connection with,” in plain words took the vows of, ‘‘the order of the Jesuits,” an order ‘‘ well-known in the annals of philanthropic daring”;.a popular preacher who de- claimed openly at Bayrit and elsewhere against his own nation, till the proceedings of a certain Father Michael RXIV Pilevimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. Cohen were made the subject of an official report by Mr. Consul-General Moore (Bayrut, November 11, 1857); an Englishman by birth who accepted French protection, a secret mission, and the “‘liberality of the present Em- . peror of the French”; a military officer travelling in the garb of what he calls a native (Syrian) quack” with a comrade who “by a slight but necessary fiction passed for his brother-in-law'”; a gentleman who by return to Protestantism violated his vows, and a traveller who was proved by the experiment of Colonel (now Sir Lewis) Pelly to have brought upon himself all the perils and adventures that -have caused his charming work to be considered so little werthy of trust. Truly such attack argues a sublime daring. It is the principle of * vieille coquette, nouvelle dévote”’; it is Satan preaching against Sin. Both writers certainly lack the ‘“ giftie” to see themselves as others see them. In noticing these extracts my object is not to defend myself: I recognize no man’s right to interfere between a human being and his conscience. But what is there, I would ask, in the Moslem Pilgrimage so offensive to Christians---what makes it a subject of ‘‘inward ridicule’? Do they not also venerate Abraham, the Father of the Faithful? Did not Locke, and even greater names, hold Mohammedans to be heterodox Christians, in fact Arians who, till the end of the fourth century, represented the mass of North-European Christianity? Did Mr. Lane neverconform by praying at a Mosque in Cairo? did he ever fear to confess it? has he been called an apostate for so doing? Did not Father Michael Cohen prove himself an excellent Moslem at Wahhabi-land. The fact is, there are honest men who hold that Al- 1 The brother-in-law, Barakat J’rayj’ray, has since that time followed suit: educated at the Jesuit college of Mu’allakah ‘Libanus) he has settled as a Greek Catholic priest at the neighbouring town of Zahleh. Preface to the Third Edition. XXV Islam, in its capital tenets, approaches much nearer to the faith of Jesus than do the Pauline and Athanasian modi- fications which, in this our day, have divided the Indo- European mind into Catholic and Roman, Greek and Russian, Lutheran and Anglican. The disciples of Dr. Daniel Schenkel’s school («A Sketch of the Character of Jesus,” Longmans, 1869) will indeed find little difficulty in making this admission. Practically, a visit after Arab Meccah to Angle-Indian Aden, with its ‘“ priests after the order of Melchisedeck,” suggested to me that the Moslem may be more tolerant, more enlightened, more charitable, than many societies of self-styled Christians. a. And why rage so furiously against the ‘disguise of a wandering Darwaysh?” In what point is the Dar- waysh more a mummer or in what does he show more of bétise than the quack? Is the Darwaysh anything but an Oriental Freemason, and are Freemasons less Chris- tians because they pray with Moslems and profess their belief in simple unitarianism ? I have said. And now to conclude. After my return to Europe, many inquired if I was not the only living European who has found his way to the Head Quarters of the Moslem Faith. I may answer in the affirmative, so far, at least, that when entering the penetralia of Moslem life my Eastern origin was never questioned, and my position was never what cagots would describe asin loco apostate. On the other hand, any Jew, Christian, or Pagan, after declaring before the Kazi and the Police Authori- ties at Cairo, or even at Damascus, that he embraces Al-Islam, may perform, without fear of the so-called Mosaic institution, ‘‘Al-Sunnah,” his pilgrimiage in all safety. It might be dangerous to travel down the Desert- line between Meccah and Al-Madinah during times of popular excitement; but the coast route is always safe. To the ‘new Moslem,” however, the old Moslem is rarely XxVI Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. well affected; and the former, as a rule, returns home unpleasantly impressed by his experiences. The Eastern world moves slowly—eppur si miuove. Half a generation ago steamers were first started to Jeddah: now we hear of a projected railroad from that port to Meccah, the shareholders being all Moslems. — And the example of Jerusalem encourages us to hope © that long before the end.of the century a visit to Meccah) will not fi more difficult than a trip to Hebron. Ziyadeh hadd-t-adab! RicHarp F. Burrfron. Loudun, 31st March, 1879. al age cll “ PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. —_—— The interest just now felt in everything that relates to the East would alone be sufficient to ensure to the author of “* El Medinah and Meccah” the favourable consideration of the Reading Public. But when it is borne in mind that since the days of William Pitts of Exeter (a.p. 1678—1688) no European travellers, with the exception of Burckhardt! and Lieut. Burton,” have been able to send us back an account of their travels there, it cannot be doubted but that the present work will be hailed as a welcome addition to our knowledge of these hitherto mysterious penetralia of Mohammedan superstition. In fact, El Madinah may be considered almost a virgin theme; for as Burckhardt was prostrated by sickness throughout the period of his stay in the Northern Hejaz, he was not able to describe it as satis- factorily or minutely as he did the Southern country,— he could not send a plan of the Mosque, or correct the popular but erroneous ideas which prevail concerning it and the surrounding city. The reader may question the propriety of introducing { In 1811. 2 Captain Sadlier is not mentioned, as his F rankish dress pre- vented his entering the city. XXVIII Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. in a work of description, anecdotes which may appear open to the charge of triviality. The author’s object, however, seems to be to illustrate the peculiarities of the people—to dramatise, as it were, the dry journal of a journey,—and to preserve the tone of the adventures, together with that local colouring in which mainly con- sists ‘‘l’education d’un voyage.” For the same reason, the prayers of the “ Visitation” ceremony have been trans- lated at length, despite the danger of inducing tedium ; they are an essential part of the subject, and cannot be omitted, nor be represented by ‘‘ specimens.” The extent of the Appendix requires some explana- tion. Few but literati are aware of the existence of Lodovico Bartema’s naive recital, of the quaint narrative of Jos. Pitts, or of the wild journal of Giovanni Finati. Such extracts have been now made from these writers that the general reader can become acquainted with the adventures and opinions of the different travellers who have visited E] Hejaz during a space of 350 years. Thus, with the second volume of Burckhardt’s Travels in Arabia, the geographer, curious concerning this portion of the Moslem’s Holy Land, possesses all that has as yet been written upon the subject. The editor, to whom the author in his absence has intrusted his work, had hoped to have completed it by the simultaneous publication of the third volume, con- taining the pilgrimage to Meccah. The delay, however, in the arrival from India of this portion of the MS. has been such as to induce him at once to publish El] Misr and E] Medinah. The concluding volume on Meccah is now in the hands of the publisher, and will appear in the Autumn of the present year. Meanwhile the Public will not lose sight of the subject of Arabia. Part of El] Hejaz has lately been inspected by M. Charles Didier, an eminent name in French literature, and by the Abbé Hamilton,—persuaded, it is believed, by our author to Preface to the First Edition. XXIX visit Taif and Wady Laymum. Though entirely uncon- nected with the subjects of Meccah and El Medinah, the account of the Sherif’s Court where these gentlemen were received with distinction, and of the almost anknown regions about Jebel Kora, will doubtless be welcomed by the Orientalists and Geographers of Europe. Mr. Burton is already known by his * History of Sindh.” And as if to mark their sense of the spirit of observation and daring evinced by him when in that country, and still more during his late journeyings in Arabia and East Africa, the Geographical Society, through their learned Secretary, Dr. Norton Shaw, have given valuable aid to this work in its progress through the press, supplying maps where necessary to complete the illustrations supplied by the author,—who, it will be perceived, is himself no mean draughtsman. It was during a residence of many years in India that Mr. Burton had fitted himself for his late undertak- ing, by acquiring, through his peculiar aptitude for such studies, a thorough acquaintance with various dialects of Arabia and Persia; and, indeed, his Eastern cast of features (vide Frontispiece, Vol. II.) seemed already to point him out as the very person of all others best suited for an expedition like that described in the following pages. It will be observed that in writing Arabic, Hindoo- stannee, Persian, or Turkish words, the author has generally adopted the system proposed by Sir William Jones and modified by later Orientalists.1 But when a word (like Fatihah for Fat-hah) has been ‘“‘ stamped” by general popular use, the conversational form has been t The orthography of Eastern words was revised for the Memorial Edition by Mr. Leonard C. Smithers, from Sir R, F. Burton’s MS. corrections, and in accordance with the orthography of Sir Richard’s most recent Oriental Work, “The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night.” XXX Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. preferred; and the same, too, may be said of the common corruptions, Cairo, Kadi, &c., which, in any other form, would appear to us pedantic and ridiculous. Still, in the absence of the author, it must be expected that sume trifling errors and inaccuraces will have here and there have crept in. In justice to others and himself, the Editor, however, feels bound to acknowledge, with much gratitude, that where such or even greater mistakes have been avoided, it has been mainly due to the continued kindness of an Eastern scholar of more than European reputation,—who has assisted in revising the sheets before finally consigning them to the printer. Let us hope that the proofs now furnished of untiring energy and capacity for observation and research by our author, as well as his ability to bear fatigue and exposure to the most inclement climate, will induce the Govern- ments of this country and of India to provide him with men and means (evidently all that is required for the purpose) to pursue his adventurous and useful career in other countries equally difficult of access, and, if possible, of still greater interest, than the Eastern shores of the Red Sea. Tuomas L. Wottey. Hampton Court Palace, June, 1855 TO GCOcONEE WILLIAM. SYKES, FR. S0C:,-M. R. G, SOC., M.. R.A. SOC., AND LORD RECTOR OF THE MARISCHAL COLLEGE, ABERDEEN. I po not parade your name, my dear Colonel, in the van of this volume, after the manner of that acute tactician who stuck a Koran upon his lance in order to win a battle. Believe me it is not my object to use your orthodoxy as a cover to my heresies of sentiment and science, in politics, political economy and—what not? But whatever I have done on this occasion,—if I have done any thing,—has been by the assistance of a host of friends, amongst whom you were ever the fore- most. And the highest privilege I aim at is this oppor- tunity of publicly acknowledging the multitude of obligations owed to you and to them. Accept, my dear Colonel, this humble return for your kindness, and ever believe me, | The sincerest of your well wishers, RIcHARD F, BURTON. Lew on “ 5 : ~“e) ag - A r e < Z Be! | ™ ; os Bh Sie] b.Az is te “ 2 = 4 \ N ¥ ’ “yo: > +” Te r = {+t A 2 9 ; ol ont? 3 ae f + 4 And ¥ Lore ‘ " ee at jets Uke baad F AL-MISR. Pet VLA TO AL-MADINAH AND MECCAH. ol ek 1 Pe TO ALEXANDRIA. A few Words concerning what induced me to a Pilgrimage. In the autumn of 1852, through the medium of my excellent friend, the late General Monteith, I offered my services to the Royal Geographical Society of London, for the purpose of removing that opprobrium to modern adventure, the huge white blot which in our maps still notes the Eastern and the Central regions of Arabia. Sir Roderick I. Murchison, Colonel P. Yorke and Dr. Shaw, a deputation from that distinguished body, with their usual zeal for discovery and readiness to en- courage the discoverer, honoured me by warmly support- ing, In a personal interview with the then Chairman of the then Court of Directors to the then Honourable East India Company, my application for three years’ leave of absence on special duty from India to Maskat. But they were unable to prevail upon the said Chairman, the late Sir James Hogg, who,’ remembering the fatalities which of late years have befallen sundry soldier-travellers in the East, refused his sanction, alleging as a reason 1 ‘Remembering . ... reason,” afterwards altered by the author te “much disliking, if fact must be told, my impolitic habit of telling political truths, (in 1851 I had submitted to the Court of Di- rectors certain remarks upon the subject of Anglo-Indian misrule: 1 VOL. I, B 2 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. that the contemplated journey was of too dangerous a nature. In compensation, however, for the disappoint- — ment, I was allowed the additional furlough of a year, in order to pursue my Arabic studies in lands where the language is best learned. What remained for me but to prove, by trial, that what might be perilous to other travellers was safe to me? The ‘‘experimentum crucis” was a visit to Al-Hijaz, at once the most difficult and the most dangercus point by - which a European can enter Arabia. I had intended, had the period of leave originally applied for been granted, to land at Maskat—a favourable starting-place—and there to apply myself, slowly and surely, to the task of spanning the deserts. But now I was to hurry, in the midst of summer, after a four years’ sojourn in Europe, during which many things Oriental had faded away from my memory, and—after passing through the ordeal of Egypt, a country where the police is curious as in Rome or Milan—to begin with the Moslem’s Holy Land, the jealously guarded and exclusive Harim. However, being liberally supplied with the means of travel by the Royal Geographical Society; thoroughly tired of ‘ pro- gress” and of ‘ civilisation ;”’ curious to see with my eyes what others are content to ‘hear with ears,” namely, ‘Toslem inner life in a really Mohammedan country; and longing, if truth be told, to set foot on that mysterious spot which no vacation tourist has yet described, mea- sured, sketched and photographed, I resolved to resume my old character of a Persian wanderer,’ a ** Darwaysh,” and to make the attempt. need hardly say that the publication was refused with many threats), and not unwilling to mortify my supporter (his colleague, Colonel W. Sykes), refused his sanction, alleging as a no-reason,’’ ef seq. 1 The vagrant, the merchant, and the philosopher, amongst Orientals, are frequently united in the same person. I.—-To Alexandria. 3 The principal object with which I started was this: to cross the unknown Arabian Peninsula, in a direct line from either Al-Madinah to Maskat, or diagonally from Meccah to Makallah on the Indian Ocean. By what ‘‘Circumstance, the miscreator’’ my plans were defeated, the reader will discover in the course of these volumes. The secondary objects were numerous. I was desirous to find out if any market for horses could be opened between Central Arabia and India, where the studs were beginning to excite general dissatisfaction ; to obtain information concerning the Great Eastern wilderness, the vast expanse marked Rub’a al-Khali (the ‘‘ Empty Abode”’) in our maps; to inquire into the hydro- graphy of the Hijaz, its water-shed, the disputed slope of the country, and the existence or non-existence of perennial streams ; and finally, to try, by actual observa- tion, the truth of a theory proposed by Colonel W. Sykes, namely, that if tradition be true, in the population of the vast Peninsula there must exist certain physiological differences sufficient to warrant our questioning the common origin of the Arab family. As regards horses, I am satisfied that from the Eastern coast something might be done,—nothing on the Western, where the animals, though thorough-bred, are mere ‘‘ weeds,” of a foolish price and procurable only by chance. Of the Rub’a al-Khali I have heard enough, from credible re- lators, to conclude that its horrid depths swarm witha large and half-starving population; that it abounds in Wadys, valleys, gullies and ravines, partially fertilised by intermittent torrents; and, therefore, that the land is open to the adventurous traveller. Moreover, I am satis- fied, that in spite of all geographers, from Ptolemy to Jomard, Arabia, which abounds in fimwmaras,’ possesses not 1 In a communication made to the Royal Geographical Society, and published in the 24th vol. of the Journal, I have given my reasons for naturalising this word. It will be used in the following pages to 4 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. a single perennial stream worthy the name of river;' and the testimony of the natives induces me to think, with Wallin, contrary to Ritter and others, that the Peninsula falls instead of rising towards the south. Finally, I have found proof, to be produced in a future part of this publica- tion, for believing in three distinct races. 1. Theaborigines of the country, driven like the Bhils and other autoch- thonic Indians, into the eastern and south-eastern wilds bordering upon the ocean. 2. A Syrian or Mesopotamian stock, typified by Shem and Joktan, that drove the Indi- gene from the choicest tracts of country ; these invaders still enjoy their conquests, representing the great Arabian people. And 3. An impure Syro-Egyptian clan—we per- sonify it by Ishmael, by his son Nabajoth, and by Edom, (Esau, the son of Isaac) — that populated and still populates the Sinaitic Peninsula. And in most places, even in the heart of Meccah, I met with débvis of hea- thenry, proscribed by Mohammed, yet still popular, while the ignorant observers of the old customs assign to them a modern and a rationalistic origin. I have entitled this account of my summer’s tour through Al-Hijaz, a Personal Narrative, and I have laboured to make its nature correspond with its name, simply because ‘‘it is the personal that interests man- kind.” Many may not follow my example;? but some express a ‘‘ hill water-course, which rolls a torrent after rain, and ‘is either partially or wholly dry during the droughts.” It is, in fact, the Indian ‘‘ Nullah, or Nala.” 1‘‘In provinciis Arabum, ait Ibn Haukal, nullus dignoscitur fluvius, aut mare quod navigia ferat.’’ This truth has been disputed, but now it is generally acknowledged. 2 A French traveller, the Viscount Escayrac de Lanture, was liv- ing at Cairo as a native of the East, and preparing for a pilgrimage when I was similarly engaged. Unfortunately he went to Damascus, where some disturbance compelled him to resume his. nationality. The only European I have met with who visited Meccah without I.—TIo Alexandria. 5 perchance will be curious to see what measures I adopted, in order to appear suddenly as an Eastern upon the stage of Oriental life; and as the recital may be found useful by future adventurers, I make no apology for the egotisti- cal semblance of the narrative. Those who have felt the want of some ‘silent friend” to aid them with advice, when it must not be asked, will appreciate what may appear to the uninterested critic mere outpourings’~ of a mind full of self. On the evening of April 3, 1853, I left London for Southampton. By the advice of a brother officer, Captain (now Colonel) Henry Grindlay, of the Bengal Cavalry,—little thought at that time the adviser or the advised how valuable was the suggestion !—my Eastern dress was called into requisition before leaving town, and all my ‘‘impedimenta”’ were taught to look exceedingly Oriental. Early the next day a ‘‘ Persian Prince,” ac- companied by Captain Grindlay, embarked on board the Peninsular and Oriental Company’s magnificent screw steamer “ Bengal.” apostatising, is M. Bertolucci, Swedish Consul at Cairo. This gentle- man persuaded the Badawin camel men who were accompanying him to Taif to introduce him in disguise: he naively owns that his terror of discovery prevented his making any observations. Dr. George A. Wallin, of Finland, performed the Hajj in 1845; but his ‘somewhat perilous position, and the filthy company of Persians,’’ were effectual obstacles to his taking notes. t No one felt the want of this ‘silent friend '’ more than myself ; for though Eastern Arabia would not have been strange to me, the Western regions were a terra incognita. Through Dr. Norton Shaw, Secretary to the Royal Geographical Society, I addressed a paper full of questions to Dr. Wallin, professor of Arabic at the University of Helsingfors. But that adventurous traveller and industrious Orientalist was then, as we afterwards heard with sorrow, no more; so the queries remained unanswered. In these pages I have been careful to solve all the little financial and domestic difficulties, so perplexing to the ‘freshman,’ whom circumstances’ compel to conceal his freshness from the prying eyes of friends. 6 Pilgnmage to Al-Madinah and Meccah, A fortnight was profitably spent in getting into the train of Oriental manners. For what polite Chesterfield says of the difference between a gentleman and his reverse,—namely, that both perform the same offices of life, but each in a several and widely different way—is notably as applicable to the manners of the Eastern as of the Western man. Look, for instance, at that Indian Moslem drinking a glass of water. With us the opera- tion is simple enough, but his performance includes no fewer than five novelties. In the first place he clutches his tumbler as though it were the throat of a foe; secondly, he ejaculates, ‘‘ In the name of Allah the Com- passionate, the Merciful!” before wetting his lips; thirdly, he imbibes the contents, swallowing them, not sipping them as he ought to do, and ending with a satisfied grunt; fourthly, before setting down the cup, he sighs forth, ‘* Praise be to Allah!’”—of which you will under- stand the full meaning in the Desert; and, fifthly, he replies, ‘‘ May Allah make it pleasant to thee!” in answer to his friend’s polite ‘‘ Pleasurably and health!” Also he is careful to avoid the irreligious action of drinking the pure element in a standing position, mindful, however, of the three recognised exceptions, the fluid of the Holy Well Zemzem, water distributed in charity, and that which remains after Wuzu, the lesser ablution. More- over, in Europe, where both extremities are used indis- criminately, one forgets the exclusive use of the right hand, the manipulation of the rosary, the abuse of the chair,—your genuine Oriental gathers up his legs, looking almost as comfortable in it as a sailor upon the back of a high-trotting horse—the rolling gait with the toes straight to the front, the grave look and the habit of pious ejacu- lations. Our voyage over the ‘‘stimmer sea” was eventless. In a steamer of two or three thousand tons you discover I.—To Alexandria. ; the once dreaded, now contemptible, ‘‘ stormy waters” only by the band—a standing nuisance be it remarked— performing * There we lay All the day, In the Bay of Biscay, O!”" The sight of glorious Trafalgar’ excites none of the sentiments with which a tedious sail used to invest it. “Gib” is, probably, better known to you, by Théophile Gautier and Eliot Warburton, than the regions about Cornhill; besides which, you anchor under the Rock exactly long enough to land and to breakfast. Malta, too, wears an old familiar face, which bids you order a ~ dinner and superintend the iceing of claret (beginning of Oriental barbarism), instead of galloping about on donkey- back through fiery air in memory of St. Paul and White- Cross Knights. But though our journey might be called monotonous, there was nothing to complain of. The ship was in every way comfortable; the cook, strange to say, was good, and the voyage lasted long enough, and not too long. On the evening of the thirteenth day after our start, the big-trowsered pilot, so lovely in his deformities to western eyes, made his appearance, and the good screw ‘‘ Bengal” found herself at anchor off the Headland of Clay.” Having been invited to start from the house of a kind friend, john W. Larking, I disembarked with him, and 1 ‘Then came Trafalgar: would that Nelson had known the meaning of that name! it would have fixed a smile upon his dying lips!’ so says the Rider through the Nubian Desert, giving us ina foot note the curious information that ‘“ Trafalgar’’ is an Arabic word, which means the ‘‘ Cage of Laurels.’ Trafalgar is nothing but a corruption of Tarf al-Gharb—the side or skirt of the West ; it being the most occidental point then reached by Arab conquest. : 2 In Arabic ‘“‘ Ras al-Tin,” the promontory upon which immortal Pharos once stood. It is so called from the argile there found and which supported an old pottery. 8 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. rejoiced to see that by dint of a beard and a shaven head I had succeeded, like the Lord of Geesh, in ‘‘ misleading the inquisitive spirit of the populace.” The mingled herd of spectators before whom we passed in review on the landing-place, hearing an audible ‘ Alhamdolillah”? whis- pered ‘‘Muslim!”’ The infant population spared me the compliments usually addressed to hatted heads; and when a little boy, presuming that the occasion might possibly open the hand of generosity, looked in my faceand exclaimed ‘¢ Bakhshish,’”” he obtained in reply a ‘‘ Mafish ;”* which convinced the bystanders that the sheep-skin covered a real sheep. We then mounted a carriage, fought our way through the donkeys, and in half an hour found our- selves, chibik in mouth and coffee-cup in hand, seated on the diwan of my friend Larking’s hospitable home. Wonderful was the contrast between the steamer and that villa on the Mahmudiyah canal! Startling the sudden change from presto to adagio life! In thirteen days we had passed from the clammy grey fog, that at- 1‘‘ Praise be to Allah, Lord of the (three) worlds!” a pious ejaculation, which leaves the lips of the True Believer on all occasions of concluding actions. 2‘ Bakhshish,” says a modern writer, ‘tis a fee or present which the Arabs (he here means the Egyptians, who got the word from the Persians through the Turks,) claim on all occasions for services you render them, as well as for services they have rendered you. A doctor visits a patient gratis,—the patient or his servant willask fora btkhshish (largesse) ; you employ, pay, clothe, and feed a child—the father will demand his bakhshish ; you may save the life of an Arab, at the risk of your own, and he will certainly claim a bakhshish. This bakhshish, in fact, is a sort of alms or tribute, which the poor Arab believes himself entitled to claim from every respectable-looking person.” 3 Mafish, ‘‘ there is none,”’ equivalent to, ‘‘I have left my purse at home.”’ Nothing takes the Oriental mind so much as a retort alliter- ative or jingling. An officer in the Bombay army (Colonel Hamerton) once saved himself from assault and battery by informing a furious band of natives, that under British rule ‘‘ havakat na hui, bavahat hui," “blessing hath there been to you; Lane there hath been none.” “fe I.—To Alexandria. 9 mosphere of industry which kept us at anchor off the Isle. of Wight, through the loveliest air of the Inland Sea, whose sparkling blue and purple haze spread charms even on N. Africa’s beldame features, and now we are sitting silent and still, listening to the monotonous melody of the East—the soft night-breeze wandering through starlit skies and tufted trees, with a voice of melancholy mean- ing. And this is the Arab’s Kayf. The savouring of animal existence ; the passive enjoyment of mere sense ; the pleasant languor, the dreamy tranquillity, the airy castle-building, which in Asia stand in lieu of the vigorous, intensive, passionate life of Europe. It is the result of a lively, impressible, excitable nature, and exquisite sensi- bility of nerve; it argues a facility for voluptuousness un- known to northern regions, where happiness is placed in the exertion of mental and physical powers; where Ernst ist das Leben; where niggard earth commands ceaseless sweat of face, and damp chill air demands perpetual excitement, exercise, or change, or adventure, or dissipa- tion, for want of something better. In the East, man wants but rest and shade: upon the banks of a bubbling stream, or under the cool shelter of a perfumed tree, ho is perfectly happy, smoking a pipe, or sipping a cup of coffee, or drinking a glass of sherbet, but above all things deranging body and mind as little as possible; the trouble of conversations, the displeasures of memory, and the vanity of thought being the most unpleasant inter- ruptions to his Kayf. No wonder that “ Kayf” is a word untranslatable in our mother-tongue ! ** Laudabunt alii claram Rhodon aut Mytelenen. ' Let others describe the once famous Capital of 1 In a coarser sense ‘‘ kayf’’ is applied to all manner of intoxica- tion. Sonnini is not wrong when he says, ‘‘ the Arabs give the name of Kayf to the voluptuous relaxation, the delicious stupor, produced by the-smoking of hemp.”’ 10 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah, Egypt, this City of Misnomers, whose dry docks are ever wet, and whose marble fountain is eternally dry, whose ‘¢Cleopatra’s Needle’? is neither a needle nor Cleo- patra’s; whose ‘‘ Pompey’s Pillar” never had any earthly connection with Pompey; and whose Cleopatra’s Baths are, according to veracious travellers, no baths at all. Yet it is a wonderful place, this ‘* Libyan suburb” of our day, this outpost of civilisation planted upon the skirts of barbarism, this Osiris seated side by side with Typhon, his great old enemy. Still may be said of it, ‘‘it ever beareth something new?;’’ and Alexandria, a threadbare subject in Bruce’s time, is even yet, from its perpetual changes, a fit field for modern description.? 1 Cleopatra’s Needle is called by the native Ciceroni ‘‘ Masallat Firaun,” Pharaoh's packing needle. What Solomon, and the Jinnis and Sikandar zu’l karnain (Alexander of Macedon), are to other Moslem lands, such is Pharaoh to Egypt, the ‘‘ Czesar aut Diabolus"’ of the Nile. The ichneumon becomes ‘‘ Pharaoh’s cat,’’—even the French were bitten and named it, le rat de Pharaon; the prickly pear, ‘‘ Pharaoh’s fig ;” the guinea-worm, ‘‘ Pharaoh’s worm ;” cer- tain unapproachable sulphur springs, ‘‘ Pharach’s bath; a mau- soleum at Petra, ‘‘ Pharaoh’s palace;’’ the mongrel race now inhabiting the valley of the Nile is contemptuously named by Turks and Arabs ‘“Jins Firaun,” or ‘‘Pharaoh’s Breed ;” and a toul kind of vulture (vultur percnopterus, ak baba of the Turks, and ukab of Sind), ‘‘ Pharaoh’s hen.”” This abhorrence of Pharaoh is, how- ever, confined to the vulgar and the religious. The philosophers and mystics of Al-Islam, in their admiration of his impious daring, make him equal, and even superior, to Moses. Sahil, a celebrated Sufi, declares that the secret of the soul (7.e., its emanation) was first revealed when Pharaoh declared himself a god. And Al- Ghazali sees in such temerity nothing but the most noble aspiration to the divine, innate in the human, spirit. (Dabistan, vol. iii.) 2 Aci pepei ti xalvoy. ‘‘ Quid novi fert Africa ?’’ said the Romans ‘‘In the same season Fayoles, tetrarch of Numidia, sent from the land of Africa to Grangousier, the most hideously great mare that was ever seen; for you know well enough how it is said, that ‘ Africa always is productive of some new thing.’”’ 3 Alexandria, moreover, is an interesting place to Moslems, on eccount of the prophecy that it will succeed to the honours of Meccah, I.—To Alexandria. — 11 The better to blind the inquisitive eyes of servants and visitors, my friend, Larking, lodged me in an out- house, where I could revel in the utmost freedom of life and manners. And although some Armenian Drago- man, a restless spy like all his race, occasionally remarked voila un Persan diablement dégagé, none, except those _who were entrusted with the secret, had any idea of the part I was playing. The domestics, devout Moslems, pronounced me an ’Ajami,' a kind of Mohammedan, not a good one like themselves, but, still better than nothing. I lost no time in securing the assistance of a Shaykh,’ and plunged once more into the intricacies of the Faith; revived my recollections of religious ablutions, read the Koran, and again became an adept in the art of prostra- tion. My leisure hours were employed in visiting the baths and coffee-houses, in attending the bazars, and in shopping,—an operation which hereabouts consists of sitting upon a chapman’s counter, smoking, sipping coffee, and telling your beads the while, to show that you are not of the slaves for whom time is made; in fact, in pitting your patience against that of your adversary, the vendor. I found time for a short excursion to a country village on the banks of the canal; nor was an opportunity of seeing ‘‘ Al-nahl,” the ‘‘ Bee-dance,” neglected, for it would be some months before my eyes might dwell on such a pleasant spectacle again. ‘‘ Delicias videam, Nile jocose, tuas!"* Careful of graver matters, I attended the mosque, and visited the venerable localities in which modern Alexandria abounds. Pilgrimaging Moslems are here when the holy city falls into the hands of the infidel. In its turn Alexandria will be followed by Kairawan (in the Regency of Tunis) ; and this by Rashid or Rosetta, which last shall endure to the end of time. 1 A Persian as opposed to an Arab. 2 A priest, elder, chieftain, language-master, private-tutor, &c., &c. 12 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. shown the tomb of Al-nabi Daniyal (Daniel the Prophet), discovered upon a spot where the late Sultan Mahmid dreamed that he saw an ancient man at prayer.’ Sikandar al-Rumi, the Moslem Alexander the Great, of course left his bones in the place bearing his name, or, as he ought to have done so, bones have been found for him. Alex- andria also boasts of two celebrated Walis—holy men. One is Mohammed al-Busiri, the author of a poem called Al-Burdah, universally read by the world of Islam, and locally recited at funerals and on other solemn occa- sions. The other is Abu Abbas al-Andalisi, a sage and saint of the first water, at whose tomb prayer is never breathed in vain. It is not to be supposed that the people of Alexandria could look upon my phials and pill-boxes without a yearning for their contents. An Indian doctor, too, was anovelty tothem; Franks they despised,—but a man who had come so far from East and West! Then there was something infinitely seducing in the character of a magi- cian, doctor, and fakir, each admirable of itself, thus combined to make ‘* great medicine.” Men, women, and children besieged my door, by which means I could see the people face to face, and especially the fair sex, of which Europeans, generally speaking, know only the worst specimens. Even respectable natives, after wit- nessing a performance of ‘‘ Mandal” and the Magic mirror”, opined that the stranger was a holy man, gifted 1 The Persians place the Prophet’s tomb at Susan or Sus, des- cribed by Ibn Haukal (p. 76). The readers of Ibn Batutah may think it strange that the learned and pious traveller in his account of Alexandria (chap. 2.) makes no allusion to the present holy deceased that distinguish the city. All the saints are now clear forgotten. For it is the fate of saints, like distinguished sinners, to die twice. 2 The Mandal is that form of Oriental divination which owes its praesent celebrity in Europe to Mr. Lane. Both it and the magic mirror are hackneyed subjects, but I have been tempted to a few words concerning them in another part of these volumes. Meanwhile I.—To Alexandria. 13 with supernatural powers, and knowing everything. One old person sent to offer me his daughter in marriage; he said nothing about dowry,—but I thought proper to de- cline the honour. Anda middle-aged lady proffered me the sum of one hundred piastres, nearly one pound ster- ling, if I would stay at Alexandria, and ee et the restoration of her blind left eye. But the reader must not be led to suppose that I acted *“‘ Carabin” or *‘ Sangrado ” without any knowledge of my trade. From youth I have always been a dabbler in medical and mystical study. Moreover, the practice of physic is comparatively easy amongst dwellers in warm latitudes, uncivilised peoples, where there is not that com- plication of maladies which troubles more polished nations. And further, what simplifies extremely the treatment of the sick in these parts is the undoubted periodicity of disease, reducing almost all to one type—ague.’ Many of the complaints: of tropical climates, as medical men weli know, display palpably intermittent symptoms little known to colder countries ; and speaking from individual experience, I may safely assert that in all cases of suftfer- ing, from a wound to ophthalmia, this* phenomenon has forced itself upon my notice. So much by way of excuse. I therefore considered myself as well qualified for the work as if I had taken out a buono per Testero diploma at Padua, and not more likely to do active harm than most of the regularly graduated young surgeons who start to “finish” themselves upon the frame of the British soldier. After a month’s hard work at Alexandria, I prepared to assume the character of a wandering Darwaysh; after I request the reader not to set me down as a mere charlatan; medi- cine in the East is so essentially united with superstitious practices, that he who would pass for an expert practitioner, must necessarily represent himself an ‘‘ adept.” 1 Hence the origin, I believe, of the Chrentinaai System, a discovery which physic owes to my old friend, the late Dr. Samuel Dickson. i4 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. reforming my title from ‘ Mirza”! to “‘Shaykh” Ab- dullah.2 A reverend man, whose name I do not care to quote, some time ago initiated me into his order, the Kadiriyah, under the high-sounding name of Bismillah- Shah :* and, after a due period of probation, he graciously elevated me to the proud position of a Murshid,‘ or Master in the mystic craft. I was therefore sufficiently well ac- quainted with the tenets and practices of these Oriental Freemasons. No character in the Moslem world is so proper for disguise as that of the Darwaysh. Itis assumed by all ranks, ages, and creeds; by the nobleman who has been disgraced at court, and by the peasant who is too idle to till the ground; by Dives, who is weary of life, and by Lazarus, who begs his bread from door to door. Further, the Darwaysh is allowed to ignore ceremony and politeness, as one who ceases to appear upon the stage of life; he-may pray or not, marry or remain single as he pleases, be respectable in cloth of frieze as in cloth of gold, and no one asks him—the chartered vagabond— zi The Persian ‘‘ Mister." In future chapters the reader will see the uncomfortable consequences of my having appeared in Egypt as a Persian. Although I found out the mistake, and worked hard to correct it, the bad name stuck to me; bazar reports fly quicker and hit harder than newspaper paragraphs. 2 Arab Christians sometimes take the name of “‘Abdullah,” servant of Allah—* which,” as a modern traveller observes, ‘‘ all sects and re- ligions might be equally proud to adopt.’ The Moslem Prophet said, ‘the names most approved of God are Abdullah, Abd-al- rahman (Slave of the Compassionate), and such like.” 3 ‘‘ King in-the-name-of-Allah,” a kind of Oriental “ Praise-God- Barebones.’’ When a man appears as a Fakir or Darwaysh, he casts off, in process of regeneration, together with other worldly sloughs, his laical name for some brilliant coat of nomenclature rich i in religi- ous promise. 4 A Murshid is one allowed to admit Murids or apprentices into the order. As the form of the diploma conferred upon this occasion may be new to many European Orientalists, I have, translated it in Appendix I. L.—To Alexandria. 18 _"\Why he comes here? or Wherefore he goes there? He may wend his way on foot alone, or ride his Arab mare followed by a dozen servants; he is equally feared with- out weapons, as swaggering through the streets armed to the teeth. The more haughty and offensive he is to the people, the more they respect him; a decided advantage to the traveller of choleric temperament. In the hour of imminent danger, he has only to become a maniac, and he is safe ; a madman in the East, like a notably eccentric character in the West, is allowed to say or do whatever the spirit directs. Add to this character a little know- ledge of medicine, a ‘‘ moderate skill in magic, and a repu- tation for caring for nothing but study and books,” to- gether with capital sufficient to save you from the chance of starving, and you appear in the East to peculiar advantage. The only danger of the ‘“‘ Mystic Path’” is, that the Darwaysh’s ragged coat not unfrequently covers the cut-throat, and, if seized in the society of such a ‘‘ brother,” you may reluctantly become his companion, under the stick or on the stake. For beit known, Dar- wayshes are of two orders, the Sharai, or those who con: form to religion, and the Bi-Sharai, or Luti, whose prac- tices are hinted at by their own tradition that ‘“‘he we daurna name” once joined them for a week, but at the end of that time left them in dismay, and returned to - whence he came. —— 1 The Tarikat or path, which leads, or is suppused to lead, to. Heaven. * CHAPTER dh } LEAVE ALEXANDRIA. Tue thorough-bred wanderer’s idiosyncracy I pre- sume to be a composition of what phrenologists call ‘‘inhabitiveness” and ‘ locality” equally and largely de- veloped. After a long and toilsome march, weary of the way, he drops into the nearest place of rest to become the most domestic of men. For a while he smokes the “‘ pipe of permanence’? with an infinite zest; he delights in various siestas during the day, relishing withal deep sleep during the dark hours; he enjoys dining at a fixed dinner hour, and he wonders at the demoralisation of the mind which cannot find means of excitement in chit-chat or small talk, in a novel or a newspaper. But soon the passive fit has passed away; again a paroxysm of ennui coming on by slow degrees, Viator loses appetite, he walks about his room all night, he yawns at conversa- tions, and a book acts upon him as anarcotic. The man wants to wander, and he must do so, or he shall die. After about a month most pleasantly spent at Alex- andria, I perceived the approach of the enemy, and as nothing hampered my incomings and outgoings, I sur- rendered. The world was ‘all before me,” and there was pleasant excitement in plunging single-handed into its chilling depths. My Alexandrian Shaykh, whose heart 1 The long pipe which at home takes the place of the shorter chibak used on the road. I].—I Leave Alexandna. 17 fell victim to a new “‘jubbah,” which I had given in ex- change for his tattered za’abut' offered me, in consideration of a certain monthly stipend, the affections of a brother and religious refreshment, proposing to send his wife back to her papa, and to accompany me, in the capacity of private chaplain to the other side of Kaf.? I politely accepted ‘tthe ‘‘ Bruderschaft,’ but many reasons induced me to decline his society and services. In the first place, he spoke the detestable Egyptian jargon. Secondly, it was but prudent to lose the ‘‘spoor”’ between Alexandria and Suez. And, thirdly, my ‘‘brother” had shifting eyes (symptoms of fickleness), close together (indices of cun- ning) ; a flat-crowned head, and large ill-fitting lips; signs which led me to think lightly of his honesty, firmness, and courage. Phrenology and physiognomy, be it ob- served, disappoint you often amongst civilised people, the proper action of whose brain upon the features is impeded by the external pressure of education, accident, exam- ple, habit, and necessity. But they are tolerably safe guides when groping your way through the mind of man in his so-called natural state, a being of impulse, in that chrysalis condition of mental development which is rather . instinct than reason. | Before my departure, however, there was much to be | done. The land of the Pharaohs is becoming civilised, and unpleasantly so: nothing can be more uncomfortablethan its present middle state, between barbarism and the re- verse. The prohibition against carrying arms is rigid as in Italy; all ‘* violence” is violently denounced; and be- 1 The jubbah is a long outer garment, generally of cloth, worn by learned and respectable men. The za’abut is a large bag-sleeved black or brown coloured robe made of home-spun woollen, the garb of the peasant, the hedge-priest, and the darwaysh. 2 The mountain which encircles the globe, according to the sacred geography of the Moslems. ‘To ‘go to Kaf”’ is equivalent to our ‘‘ go to Jericho,”’ or—somewhere else. Wx 18 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. heading being deemed cruel, the most atrocious crimes, as well as those small political offences, which in the days of the Mamliks would have led to a beyship or a bow- string, receive fourfold punishment by deportation to Fayzoghla, the local Cayenne. If you order your peasant to be flogged, his friends gather in threatening hundreds at your gates; when you curse your boatman, he com: plains to your consul; the dragomans afflict you with strange wild notions about honesty ; a Government order prevents you from using vituperative language to the ‘‘natives” in general; and the very donkey boys are be- coming cognisant of the right of man to remain un- bastinadoed. Still the old leaven remains behind: here, as elsewhere in the ‘‘ Morning-land,” you cannot hold your own without employing the vote de fait. The pass- port system, now dying out of Europe, has sprung up, or rather has revived, in Egypt, with peculiar vigour.’ Its good effects claim for it our respect ; still we cannot but lament its inconvenience. By we, I mean real Easterns. As strangers—even those whose beards have whitened in the land—know absolutely nothing of what unfortunate natives must endure, I am tempted to subjoin a short 1 Sir G. Wilkinson, referring his readers to Strabo, remarks that the ‘‘troublesome system of passports seems to have been adopted by the Egyptians at a very early period.” Its present rigours, which have lasted since the European troubles in 1848 and 1849, have a two- fold object ; in the first place, to act as a clog upon the dangerous emigrants which Germany, Italy, and Greece have sent out into the world; and secondly, to confine the subjects of the present Pasha of Egypt to their fatherland and the habit of paying taxes, The en- lightened ruler (this was written during the rule of Abbas Pasha) knows his own interests, and never willingly parts with a subject liable to cess, at times objecting even to their obeying pilgrimage law. We, on the other hand, in India, allow a freedom of emigration, in my humbie opinion, highly injurious to us. For not only does this exodus thin the population, and tend to impoverish the land, it also serves to bring our rule into disrepute in foreign lands. At another time, I. shall dis. cuss this subject more fully. II.—I Leave Alexandnia. 19 sketch of my adventures in search of a Tazkirah, or pass- port, at Alexandria. Through ignorance which might have cost me dear but for friend Larking’s weight with the local authorities, I had neglected to provide myself with a passport in England, and it was not without difficulty, involving much unclean dressing and an unlimited expenditure of broken English, that I obtained from H. B. M’s Consul at Alexandria a certificate, declaring me to be an Indo- British subject named Abdullah, by profession a doctor, aged thirty, and not distinguished—at least so the fre- quent blanks seemed to denote—by any remarkable con- formation of eyes, nose, or cheek. For this I disbursed a dollar. And here let me record the indignation with which I did it. That mighty Britain—the mistress of the seas—the ruler of one-sixth of mankind—should charge five shillings to pay for the shadow of her protect- ingwing! That I cannot speak my modernised ‘‘civis sum Romanus” without putting my hand into my pocket, in order that these officers of the Great Queen may not take too ruinously from a revenue of seventy millions! O the meanness of our magnificence! the littleness of our great- ness | My new passport would not carry me without the Zabit or Police Magistrate’s counter-signature, said H.B.M.’s Consul. Next day I went to the Zabit, who re- ferred me tothe Muhafiz (Governor) of Alexandria, at whose gate I had the honour of squatting at least three hours, till a more compassionate clerk vouchsafed the in- formation that the proper place to apply to was the Diwan Kharijiyah (the Foreign Office). Thus a second day was utterly lost. On the morning of the third 1 started, as directed, for tne Palace, which crowns the Headland of Clay. It is a huge and couthless shell ot building in parallelogrammic form, containing all kinds of public offices in glorious confusion, looking with their glaring 20 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. white-washed faces. upon a central court, where a few leafless wind-wrung trees seem struggling for the breath of life in an eternal atmosphere of clay-dust and sun- blaze. The first person I addressed was a Kawwas? or police officer, who, coiled comfortably up in a bit of shade fitting his person like a robe, was in full enjoyment of the Asiatic “* Kayf.” Having presented the consular certifi- cate and briefly stated the nature of my business, I ven- tured to inquire what was the right course to pursue fag a visa. They have little respect for Darwayshes, it appears, at Alexandria. M’adri—* Don’t know,” growled the man of autho- rity, without moving any thing but the quantity of tongue absolutely necessary for articulation. Now there are three ways of treating Asiatic officials, —by bribe, by bullying, or by bothering them with a dogged perseverance into attending to youand your con- cerns. The latter is the peculiar province of the poor; moreover, this time I resolved, for other reasons, to be patient. I repeated my question in almost the same words. Ruh! ‘ Be off,” was what I obtained for all reply. But this time the questioned went so far as to open his eyes. Still I stood twirling the paper in my hands, and looking very humble and very persevering, till a loud Ruh ya Kalb! ‘“*Go, O dog!” converted into a responsive curse the little speech I was preparing about 1 The glare of Alexandria has become a matter of fable in the East. The stucco employed in overlaying its walls, erected by Zul- karnayn, was so exquisitely tempered and so beautifully polished, that the inhabitants, in order to protect themselves from DERIESss were constrained to wear masks. 2 The word literally means ‘‘a bowman, an dechttee remind- ing us of ‘les archers de la Sainte Hermandade,” in the most delicious of modern fictions. Some mis-spell the word ‘‘ Kawas, "' “ Cavass,”’ and so forth ! . : IT.—I Leave Alexandria. 21 the brotherhood of Al-Islam and the mutual duties ob- _ligatory on true believers. I then turned away slowly and fiercely, for the next thing might have been a cut with the Kurbaj,! and, by the hammer of Thor! British flesh and blood could never have stood that. After which satisfactory scene,—for satisfactory it - was in one sense, proving the complete fitness of the Darwaysh’s costume,—I tried a dozen other promiscuous sources of information,—policemen, grooms, scribes, donkey-boys, and idlers in general. At length, wearied of patience, I offered a soldier some pinches of tobacco, and promised him an Oriental sixpence if he would manage the business for me. The man was interested by the tobacco and the pence; he took my hand, and inquiring the while he went along, led me from place to place, till, mounting a grand staircase, I stood in the presence of Abbas Effendi, Naib or deputy to the Governor. It was a little, whey-faced, black-bearded Turk, coiled up in the usual conglomerate posture upon a calico-covered diwan, at the end of a long, bare, large- windowed room. Without deigning even to nod the head, which hung over his shoulder with transcendent listlessness and affectation of pride, in answer to my salams and benedictions, he eyed me with wicked eyes, and faintly ejaculated ‘‘ Min ent??”” Then hearing that I was a Darwaysh and doctor—he must be an Osmanli Voltairean, that little Turk—the official snorted a con- temptuous snort. He condescendingly added, however, that the proper source to seek was ‘“‘ Taht,” which, mean- ing simply ‘“* below,” conveyed to an utter stranger rather imperfect information from a topographical point of view. At length, however, my soldier guide found out that 1 A whip, a cravache of dried and twisted hippopotamus hide, the ferule, horsewhip, and ‘‘cat o’ nine tails"’ of Egypt. 2 For ‘‘man anta?” who art thou? 22 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. a room in the custom-house bore the honourable appella- tion of ‘‘ Foreign Office.” Accordingly I went there, and, after sitting at least a couple of hours at the bolted door in the noon-day sun, was told, with a fury which made me think I had sinned, that the officer in whose charge the department was, had been presented with an olive branch in the morning, and consequently that business was not to be done that day. The angry-faced official communicated the intelligence to a large group of Anado- lian, Caramanian, Bosniac, and Roumelian Turks,— sturdy, undersized, broad-shouldered, bare-legged, splay- footed, horny-fisted, dark-browed, honest-looking moun- taineers, who were lounging about with long pistols and yataghans stuck in their broad sashes, head-gear com- posed of immense tarbishes with proportionate turbands coiled round them, and bearing two or three suits of sub- stantial clothes, even at this season of the year, upon their shoulders. Like myself they had waited some hours, but they were not so patient under disappointment: they bluntly told the angry official that he and his master were a pair © of idlers, and the curses that rumbled and gurgled in their hairy throats as they strode towards the door sounded like the growling of wild beasts. Thus was another day truly orientally lost. On the morrow, however, I obtained permission, in the character of Dr. Abdullah, to visit any part of Egypt I pleased, and to retain possession of my dagger and pistols. And now I must explain what induced me to take so much trouble about a passport. The home reader naturally inquires, Why not travel under your Englisk name ? For this reason. In the generality of barbarous - countries you must either proceed, like Bruce, prese1 ving —the ‘‘dignity of manhood,” and carrying matters with a high hand, or you must worm your way by timidity and —_— Il—1 Leave Alexandra, 23 subservience; in fact, by becoming an animal too con- temptible for man to let or injure. But to pass through the Moslem’s Holy Land, you must either be a born believer, or have become one; in the former case you may demean yourself as you please, in the latter a path is ready pre- pared for you. My spirit could not bend to own myself ‘a Buymd,} a renegade—to be pointed at and shunned and catechised, an object of suspicion to the many and of ‘contempt to all. Moreover, it would have obstructed the aim of my wanderings. The convert is always watched with Argus eyes, and men do not willingly give information to a ‘‘new Moslem,” especially a Frank: they suspect his conversion to be feigned or forced, look upon him as a spy, and let him see as little of life as possible. Firmly as was my heart set upon travelling in Arabia, by Heaven! I would have given up the dear project rather than purchase a doubtful and partial success at such a price. Consequently, I had no choice but to appear as a born believer, and part of my birthright in that respectable character was toil and trouble in obtain- ing a Tazkirah.? ’ Then I had to provide myself with certain neces- saries for the way. These were not numerous. The silver-mounted dressing-bag is here supplied by a rag containing a Miswak® or tooth-stick, a bit of soap and a comb, wooden, for bone and tortoiseshell are not, re- ligiously speaking, correct. Equally simple was my ward- 1 An opprobrious name given by the Turks to their Christian sonverts. The word is derived from buvmak, ‘‘ to twist, to turn.” 2 During my journey, and since my return, some Indian papers c.\nducted by jocose editors made merry upon an Englishman “ turn- ing Turk.” Once for all, I beg leave to point above for the facts of the case; it must serve as a general answer to any pleasant little fictions which may hereafter appear. 3 A stick of soft wood chewed at one end. It is generally used throughout the East, where brushes should be avoided, as the natives always suspect hogs’ bristles, 24 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. robe; a change or two of clothing. It is a great mistake to carry too few clothes, and those who travel as Orientals should always have at least one very grand suit for use on critical occasions. Throughout the Last a badly dressed man is a pauper, and, as in England, a pauper—unless he belongs to an order having a right to be poor—is a scoundrel. The only article of canteen description was a Zemzemiyah, a goat-skin water-bag, which, especially when new, communicates to its contents a ferruginous aspect and a wholesome, though hardly an attractive, flavour of tanno-gelatine. This was a necessary; to drink out of a tumbler, possibly fresh from pig-eating lips, would have entailed a certain loss of reputation. For bedding and furniture I had a coarse Persian rug— which, besides being couch, acted as chair, table, and oratory—a cotton-stuffed chintz-covered pillow, a blanket in case of cold, and a sheet, which did duty for tent and mosquito curtains in nights of heat.'' As shade is a con- venience not always procurable, another necessary was a huge cotton umbrella of Eastern make, brightly yellow, suggesting the idea of an overgrown marigold. I had also a substantial housewife, the gift of a kind relative, Miss Elizabeth Stisted ; it was a roll of canvas, carefully soiled, and garnished with needles and thread, cobblers’ wax, buttons, and other such articles. These things were most useful in lands where tailors abound not; besides which, the sight of a man darning his coat or patching his slippers teems with pleasing ideas of humility. A dagger,? a brass inkstand and pen-holder 1 Almost all Easterns sleep under a sheet, which becomes a kind of respirator, defending them from the dews and mosquitoes by night and the flies by day. The ‘trough and ready "’ traveller will learn to follow the example, remembering that ‘‘ Nature is founder of Customs in savage countries ;’’ whereas, amongst the soi-disant civilised, Nature has no deadlier enemy than Custom. 2 It is strictly forbidden to carry arms in Egypt. This, however, does not prevent their being as necessary—especially in places like II.—I Leave Alexandria, 25 “ stuck in the belt, and a mighty rosary, which on occasion might have been converted into a weapon of offence, completed my equipment. I must not omit to mention the proper method of carrying money, which in these lands should never be entrusted to box or bag. A common cotton purse secured in a breast pocket (for Egypt now abounds in that civilised animal, the pick- pocket’), contained silver pieces and small change. My gold, of which I carried twenty-five sovereigns, and papers, were committed to a substantial leathern belt of Maghrabi manufacture, made to be strapped round the waist under the dress. ‘This is the Asiatic method of conceal- ing valuables, and one more civilised than ours in the last century, when Roderic Random and his companion ‘sewed their money between the lining and the waist- band of their breeches, except some loose silver for im- Alexandria, where Greek and Italian ruffians abound—as they ever were in Rome or Leghorn during the glorious times of Italian “ liberty.” 1 In the Azhar Mosque, immediately after Friday service, a fellow once put his hand into my pocket, which fact alone is ample evidence of “‘ progress.” 2 As a general rule, always produce, when travelling, the minutest bit of coin. At present, however, small change is dear in Egypt; the Sarrafs, or money-changers, create the dearth in order to claim a high agio. ‘The traveller must prepare himself for a most unpleasant task in learning the different varieties of currency, which appear all but endless, the result of deficiency in the national circulating medium. There are, however, few copper coins, the pieces of ten or five faddah (or parahs), whereas silver and gold abound. As regards the latter metal, strangers should mistrust all small pieces, Turkish as well as Egyptian. ‘The greater part are either cut or cracked, or perhaps both, and worn down to mere spangles: after taking them, it . will not be possible to pass them without considerable loss.” Above all things, the traveller must be careful never to change gold except in large towns, where such a display of wealth would not arouse suspicion or cupidity; and on no occasion when travelling even to pronounce the ill-omened word *‘ Kis’ (purse). Many have lost their lives by neglecting these simple precaiitions. 26 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. mediate expense on the road.” The great inconvenience of the belt is its weight, especially where dollars must be carried, as in Arabia, causing chafes and discomfort at night. Moreover, it can scarcely be called safe. In dangerous countries wary travellers will adopt surer precautions.’ 7 A pair of common native Khurjin, or saddle-bags, contained my wardrobe; the bed was readily rolled up into a bundle; and for a medicine chest? I bought a pea- green box with red and yellow flowers, capable of stand- ing falls from a camel twice a day. 1 Some prefer a long chain of pure gold divided into links and covered with leather, so as to resemble the twisted girdle which the Arab fastens round his waist. It is a precaution well known to the wandering knights of old. Others, again, in very critical situations, open with a lancet the shoulder, or any other fleshy part of the body, and insert a precious stone, which does not show in its novel purse. 2 Any ‘‘Companion to the Medicine Chest” will give, to those that require such information, the names of drugs and instruments necessary for a journey ; but it must be borne in mind that hot coun- tries require double quantities of tonics, and half the allowance’ of cathartics necessary in cold climates. Sonnini, however, is right when he says of the Egyptian fellahs, that their stomachs, accustomed to digest bread badly baked, acrid and raw vegetables, and other green and unwholesome nourishment, require doses fit only for horses. Advisable precautions are, in the first place, to avoid, if travelling as a native, any signs of European manufacture in knives, scissors, weights, scales and other such articles. Secondly, glass bottles are useless: the drugs should be stowed away in tin or wooden boxes, such as the natives of the country use, and when a phial is required, it must be fitted into an étui of some kind. By this means, ground glass stoppers and plentiful cotton stuffing, the most volatile essences may be carried about without great waste. After six months of the driest heat, in Egypt and Arabia, not more than about one- fourth of my Prussic acid and chloroform had evaporated. And, thirdly, if you travel in the East, a few bottles of tincture of canthar- ides—highly useful as a rubefacient, excitant, et cetera—must never be omitted. I made the mistake of buying my drugs in England, and had the useless trouble of looking after them during the journey. Both at Alexandria and Cairo they are to be found in abundance, cheaper than in London, and good enough for all practical purposes. Il.—I Leave Alexandria. ; 27 The next step was to find out when the local steamer would start for Cairo, and accordingly I betook myself to the Transit Office. No vessel was advertised ; I was di- rected to call every evening till satisfied. At last the fortunate event took place: a ‘‘ weekly departure,” which, by the bye, occurred once every fortnight or so, was in orders for the next day. I hurried to the office, but did not reach it till past noon—the hour of idleness. A little, dark gentleman—Mr. Green—so formed and dressed as exactly to resemble a liver-and-tan bull-terrier, who with his heels on the table was dosing, cigar in mouth, over the last ‘‘ Galignani,” positively refused, after a time,— for at first he would not speak at all,—to let me take my passage till three in the afternoon. -I inquired when the boat started, upon which he referred me, as I had spoken bad Italian, to the advertisement. I pleaded inability to read or write, whereupon he testily cried Alle nove! alle nove !—at nine! at nine! Still appearing uncertain, I drove him out of his chair, when he rose with a curse and read 8 a.m. An unhappy Eastern, depending upon what he said, would have been precisely one hour too late. - Thus were we lapsing into the real good old East- Indian style of doing business. Thus Anglo-Indicus orders his first clerk to execute some commission; the senior, having ‘‘ work” upon his hands, sends a junior ; the junior finds the sun hot, and passes on the word to a ‘neon; the “‘ peon” charges a porter with the errand; and the porter quietly sits or doses in his place, trusting that Fate will bring him out of the scrape, but firmly resolved, though the shattered globe fall, not to stir an inch. The reader, I must again express a hope, will pardon the length of these descriptions,—my object is to show him how business is carried on in these hot countries. Business generally. For had I been, not Abdullah the Darwaysh, but a rich native merchant, it would have been ” 28 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. the same. How many complaints of similar treatment have I heard in different parts of the Eastern world! and how little can one realise them without having actually experienced the evil! For the future I shall never see a “nigger” squatting away half a dozen mortal hours in a broiling sun patiently waiting for something or for some one, without a lively remembrance of my own cooling of the calces at the custom-house of Alexandria. At length, about the end of May (1853) all was ready. Not without a feeling of regret I left my little room among the white myrtle blossoms and the rosy oleander flowers with the almond smell. I kissed with humble ostentation my good host’s hand in presence of his ser- vants—he had become somewhat unpleasantly anxious, of late, to induce in me the true Oriental feeling, by a slight administration of the bastinado—I bade adieu to my patients, who now amounted to about fifty, shaking hands with all meekly and with religious equality of attention; and, mounted in a ‘‘ trap” which looked like a cross between a wheel-barrow and a dog-cart, drawn by a kicking, jibbing, and biting mule, I set out for the steamer, the “ Little Asthmatic.” Circ rer Lt: THE: NILE STEAMBOAT—THE ‘! LITTLE’ ASTHMATIC,” In the days of the Pitts we have invariably a “ Re- lation” of Egyptian travellers who embark for a place called ‘‘ Roseet”’ on the ‘‘ River Nilus.’”’ Wanderers of the Brucean age were wont to record their impressions of voyage upon land subjects observed between Alexandria and Cairo. -A little later we find every one inditing rhapsodies about, and descriptions of, his or her Daha- biyah (barge) on the canal. After this came the steamer. And after the steamer will come the railroad, which may disappoint the author tourist, but will be delightful to that sensible class of men who wish to get over the greatest extent of ground with the least inconvenience to themselves and others. Then shall the Mahmudiyah— ugliest and most wearisome of canals—be given up to cotton boats and grain barges, and then will note-books and the headings of chapters clean ignore its existence. I saw the canal at its worst, when the water was low; and I have not one syllable to say in its favour. Instead of thirty hours, we took three morta] days and nights to reach Cairo, and we grounded with painful regularity four or five times between sunrise and sunset. Inthe scenery on the banks sketchers and describers have left you nought to see. From Pompey’s Pillar to the Maison Carrée, Kariom and its potteries, Al-Birkah’ of the night birds, Bastarah 1 Villages ‘notorious for. the peculiar Egyptian revelry, an un- doubted relic of the good old times, when ‘‘the. most religious of 30 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah, with the alleys of trees, even unto Atfah, all things are perfectly familiar to us, and have been so years before the traveller actually sees them. The Nil al-Mubdrak itsel{—the Blessed Nile,—as notably fails too at this season to arouse enthusiasm. You see nothing but muddy waters, dusty banks, a sand mist, a milky sky, and a glaring sun: you feel nought but a breeze like the blast from a potter’s furnace. You can only just distinguish through a veil of reeking vapours the village Shibr Katt from the village Kafr al-Zayyat, and you steam too far from Wardan town to enjoy the Timonic satisfaction of enraging its male population with “ Haykal! ya ibn Haykal! O Haykal !—O son of Haykal?!” You are nearly wrecked, as a matter of course, at the Barrage; and you are certainly dumbfoundered by the sight of its ugly little Gothic crenelles.? The Pyramids of Khufa and Khafra (Cheops men "’ revelled at Canopus with an ardent piety in honour of Isis and Osiris. 1 ‘‘ Haykal"' was a pleasant fellow, who, having basely abused the confidence of the fair ones of Wardan, described their charms in sarcastic verse, and stuck his scroll upon the door of the village mosque, taking at the same time the wise precaution to change his lodgings without delay. The very mention of his name affronts the brave Wardanenses to the last extent, making them savage as Oxford bargees. 2 The Barrage is a handsome bridge,—putting the style of archi- tecture out of consideration,—the work of French engineers, origin- ally projected by Napoleon the First. It was intended to act as a dam, raising the waters of the Nile and conducting them to Suez, the salt lakes, and a variety of other places, through a number of canals, which, however, have not yet been opened. Meanwhile, it acts upon the river’s trunk as did the sea of old upon its embouchurés, blocking it up and converting the land around it to the condition of a swamp. Moreover, it would have cleaned out the bed by means of sluice gates, forming an artificial increase of current to draw off the deposit ; but the gates are wanting, so the piers, serving only to raise the soil by increasing the deposit of silt, collect and detain suspended matter, which otherwise would not settle. Briefly, by a trifling expenditure the Barrage might be made a blessing to Egypt; in its present state TIT.—The Nile Steamboat—The * Little Asthmatic.” 31 and Cephren) “rearing their majestic heads above the margin of the Desert,” only suggest of remark that they have been remarkably well-sketched; and thus you pro- ceed till with a real feeling of satisfaction you moor alongside of the tumble-down old suburb “ Bulak.” To me there was double dulness in the scenery: it -seemed to be Sind over again—the same morning mist and noon-tide glare ; the same hot wind and heat clouds, and fiery sunset, and evening glow; the same pillars of dust and “devils” of sand sweeping like giants over the plain; the same turbid waters of a broad, shallow stream studded with sand-banks and silt-isles, with crashing earth slips and ruins nodding over a kind of —No ?—Then verily thou must buy thee a female slave, O youth! This conduct is not right, and men will say of thee Repentance: I take refuge with Allah‘ ‘of a truth his mouth watereth for the spouses of other Moslems.’ ” 1 Ya gad’a, as the Egyptians pronounce it, is used exactly like the ‘‘mon brave”’ of France, and our ‘‘ my good man.” 2 The“ mountain” in Egypt and Arabia is what the “‘ jungle”’ is in India. When informed that ‘‘ you come from the mountain,” you understand that you are considered a mere clodhopper: when asserting that you will ‘sit upon the mountain,”’ you hint to your hearers an intention of turning anchorite or magician. 3 Ya hi, a common interpellative, not, perhaps, of the politest description. 4 A religious formula used when compelled to mention anything abominable or polluting to the lips of a pious man. LV.—Life in the Wakalah. 73 But sometimes he nods over a difficult passage under my very eyes, or he reads it over a dozen times in the wantonness of idleness, or he takes what school-boys cal! a long “shot” most shamelessly at the signification. When this happens I lose my temper, and raise my voice, and shout, “‘ Verily there is no power nor might save in Allah, the High, the Great!” Then he looks at me, and with passing meekness whispers— ‘Fear Allah, O man!” CHAPTER IN, THE RAMAZANe Tus year the Ramazan befell in June, and a fearful infliction was that “ blessed month,” making the Moslem unhealthy and unamiable. For the space of sixteen consecutive hours and a quarter, we were forbidden to eat, drink, smoke, snuff, and even to swallow our saliva designedly. I say forbidden, for although the highest orders of Turks,—the class is popularly described as “Turco fino Mangia porco é beve vino,"’"— may break the ordinance in strict privacy, popular opinion would condemn any open infraction of it with uncommon severity. In this, as in most human things, how many are there who hold that ‘‘ Pécher en secret n’est pas pécher, Ce n'est que l’éclat qui fait le crime”’ ? The middle and lower ranks observe the dite of the season, however arduous, with exceeding zeal: of all who suffered severely from such total abstinence, I found but one patient who would eat even to save his life. And among the vulgar, sinners who habitually drink when they should pray, will fast and perform their ~ devotions through the Ramazan. Like the Italian, the Anglo-Catholic, and the Greek fasts, the chief effect of the ‘* blessed month” upon True Believers is to darken their tempers into positive gloom. V.—The Ramazan. 75 Their voices, never of the softest, acquire, especially after noon, a terribly harsh and creaking tone. ‘The men curse one another’ and beatthe women. The women slap and abuse the children, and these in their turn cruelly entreat, and use bad language to, the dogs and cats. You can scarcely spend ten minutes in any populous part of the city without hearing some violent dispute. The “‘ Karakan,” or station-houses, are filled with lords who have administered an undue dose of chastisement to their ladies, and with ladies who have scratched, bitten, and otherwise injured the bodies of their lords. The Mosques are crowded with a sulky, grumbling population, making themselves offensive to one another on earth whilst working their way to heaven; and in the shade, under the outer walls, the little boys who have been expelled the church attempt to forget their miseries in spiritless play. In the bazars and streets, pale long-drawn faces, looking for the most part intolerably cross, catch your eye, and at this season a stranger will sometimes meet with positive incivility. A shopkeeper, for instance, usually says when he rejects an insufficient offer, “* Yaftah Allah,”—‘“ Allah opens.’ During the Ramazan, he will grumble about the bore of Ghashim, or “‘ Johnny raws,” and gruffly tell you not to stand there wasting his time. But as a rule the shops are either shut or destitute of shopmen, merchants will not purchase, and students will not study. In fine, 1 Of course all quarrelling, abuse, and evil words are strictly forbidden to the Moslem during Ramazan. If one believer insult another, the latter should repeat ‘‘I am fasting”’ three times before venturing himself to reply. Such is the wise law. But human nature in Egypt, as elsewhere, is always ready to sacrifice the spirit to the letter, rigidly to obey the physical part of an ordinance, and to cast away the moral, as if it were the husk and not the kernel. _ 2 Allah opens (the door of daily bread) is a polite way of inform- ing a man that you and he are not likely to do business; in other words, that you are not in want of his money. A 76 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. the Ramazan, for many classes, is one-twelfth of the year wantonly thrown away. The following is the routine of a fast day. About halfan hour after midnight, the gun sounds its warning to faithful men that it is time to prepare for the ‘* Sahar,” (early breakfast) or morning meal. My servant then wakes me, if I have slept; brings water for ablution, spreads the Sufrah ' (or leather cloth) ; and places before me certain remnants of the evening’s meal. It is some time before the stomach becomes accustomed to such hours, but in matters of appetite, habit is everything, and for health’s sake one should strive to eat as plentifully as possible. Then sounds the Salam, or Blessings on the Prophet,? an introduction to the Call of Morning Prayer. Smoking sundry pipes with tenderness, as if taking leave of a friend; and until the second gun, fired at about half-past two A.M., gives the Imsak,*—the order to abstain from food,—I wait the Azan,* which in this month is ‘called somewhat earlier than usual. Then, after a cere- mony termed the Niyat‘ (purpose) of fasting, I say my 1 The Sufrah is a piece of leather well tanned, and generally of a yellow colour, bordered with black. It is circular, has a few small pouches for knives or spoons, and, by means of a thong run through rings in the periphery, can be readily converted into a bag for carrying provisions on a journey. Figuratively it is used for the meal itself. ‘‘Sufrah hazir '’ means that dinner is upon the table. 2 The Salam at this hour of the morning is confined to the devo- tions of Ramazan. The curious reader may consult Lane’s Modern Egyptians, chap. 25, for a long and accurate interpretation of these words. 3 The summons to prayer. 4 In the Mohammedan church every act of devotion must be preceded by what is called its Niyat, or purpose. This intention must be either mentally conceived, or, as the more general rule is, audibly expressed. For instance, the worshipper will begin with ‘IT purpose to pray the four-bows of mid-day prayer to Allah the Almighty,” and then he will proceed to the act of worship. Moslems of the Shafe’i faith must perform the Niyat of fasting every night V.—The Ramazan. 77 prayers, and prepare for repose.! At 7 a.m. the labours of the day begin for the working classes of society; the rich spend the night in revelling, and rest in down from dawn till noon. The first thing on rising is to perform the Wuzu, of lesser ablution, which invariably follows sleep in a re- clining: position ; without this it would be improper to pray, to enter the Mosques, to approach a religious man, or to touch the Koran. A few pauper patients usually visit me at this hour, report the phenomena of their com- plaints,—which they do, by the bye, with unpleasant minuteness of detail,—and receive fresh instructions. At 9g A.M. Shaykh Mohammed enters, with “ lecture”’ written upon his wrinkled brow; or I pick him up on the way, and proceed straight to the Mosque Al-Azhar. After three hours’ hard reading, with little interruption from bystanders—this is long vacation, most of the students being at home—comes the call to mid-day prayer. The founder of Al-Islam ordained but few devotions for the morning, which is the business part of the Eastern day ; but during the afternoon and evening they succeed one another rapidly, and their length increases. It is then time to visit my rich patients, and afterwards, by way of accustoming myself to the sun, to wander among the bookshops for an hour or two, or simply to idle in the street. At 3 p.m. I return home, recite the afternoon prayers, and re-apply myself to study. This is the worst part of the day. In Egypt the summer nights and mornings are, generally speaking, for the ensuing day; the MAlikis, on the other hand, “ purpose”’ abstinence but once for the thirty days of Ramazan. Lane telis a pleasant tale of a thief in the Mosque saying, ‘‘I purpose (before prayer) to carry off this nice pair of new shoes !”’ 1 Many go to sleep immediately after the Imsak, or about a quarter of an hour.before the dawn prayer, and do not perform their morning devotions till they awake, But this is not, strictly speaking, correct. 98 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. pleasant, but the forenoons are sultry, and the afternoons areserious. A wind wafting the fine dust and furnace-heat of the desert blows over the city; the ground returns with © interest the showers of caloric from above, and not a cloud or a vapour breaks the dreary expanse of splendour on high. There being no such comforts as Indian tatties, and few but the wealthiest houses boasting glass windows, the interior of your room is somewhat more fiery than the street. Weakened with fasting, the body feels the heat trebly, and the disordered stomach almost affects the brain. Every minute is counted with morbid fixity of idea as it passes on towards the blessed sunset, especially by those whose terrible lot is manual labour at such a season. A few try to forget their afternoon miseries in slumber, but most people take the Kaylilah, or Siesta, shortly after the meridian, holding it unwholesome to sleep late in the day. As the Maghrib, the sunset hour, approaches—and how slowly it comes !—the town seems to recover from a trance. People flock to the windows and balconies, in order to watch the moment of their release. Some pray, others tell their beads; while others, gathering together in groups or paying visits, exert themselves to while away the lagging time. O Gladness! at length it sounds, that gun from the citadel. Simultaneously rises the sweet cry of the Mu’ezzin, calling men to prayer, and the second cannon booms from the Abbasiyah Palace,1—‘ Al Fitar! Al 1 When the late Pasha of Egypt (H.H. Abbds Hilmi) came to power, he built a large pile of palaceclose outside the walls of Cairo, on the direction of Suez, and induced his courtiers to follow his example. This was done readily enough, for Asiatics, like Europeans, enjoy the fine air of the desert after the rank atmosphere of towns and cities. if the successor of His Highness does not follow the usual Oriental method of wiping away all vestiges of the predecessor, except his grave, there will be, at no distant period, a second Cairo on the site of the Abbasiyah. | “79 Fitar |!” fast-breaking! fast-breaking! shout the people, and a hum of joy rises from the silent city. Your acute ears waste not a moment in conveying the delightful intelligence to your parched tongue, empty stomach, and languid limbs. You exhaust a pot full of water, no matter its size. You clap hurried hands! for a pipe; you order coffee; and provided with these comforts, you sit down, and calmly contemplate the coming pleasures of the evening. Poor men eat heartily at once. The rich break their fast with a light meal,—a little bread and fruit, fresh or dry, especially water-melon, sweetmeats, or such digestible dishes as ** Muhallabah,”—a thin jelly of milk, starch, and rice-flour. They then smoke a pipe, drink a cup of coffee or a glass of sherbet, and recite the evening prayers ; for the devotions of this hour are delicate things, and while smoking a first pipe after sixteen hours’ abstinence, time easily slips away. Then they sit down to the Fatar (breakfast), the meal of the twenty-four hours, and eat plentifully, if they would avoid illness. There are many ways of spending a Ramazan even- ing. The Egyptians have a Reece? like ours of the Salernitan school : V. rt One of our wants is a history of the bell and its succedanai. Strict Moslems have an aversion to all modifications of this instru- ment, striking clocks, gongs, &c., because they were considered by the Prophet peculiar to the devotions of Christians. He, therefore, instituted the Azan, or call to prayer, and his followers still clap their hands when we should ring for a servant. The symbolical meaning of the bell, as shown in the sistrum of Isis, seems to be the move- ment and mixture of the elements, which is denoted by clattering noise. ‘‘ Hence,’’ observes a learned antiquary, ‘‘the ringing of bells and clattering of plates of metal were used in all lustrations, sacrifices, &c."’ We find them amongst the Jews, worn by the high priest; the Greeks attached them to images of Priapus, and the Buddhists of Thibet still use them in their worship, as do the Catholics of Rome when elevating the Host, 80 — Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. ** After Al-Ghada rest, if it be but for two moments: After Al-Asha1 walk, if it be but two steps.” The streets are now crowded with a good-humoured throng of strollers; the many bent on pleasure, the few wending their way to Mosque, where the Imam recites ‘‘Tarawih” prayers.2. They saunter about, the accus- tomed pipe in hand, shopping, for the stalls are open till a late hour; or they sit in crowds at the coffee-house entrance, smoking Shishas,® (water-pipes), chatting, and listening to story-tellers, singers and itinerant preachers. ’ Here a bare-footed girl trills and quavers, accompanied by a noisy tambourine and a “‘ scrannel pipe”’ of abominable discordance, in honour of a perverse saint whose corpse insisted upon being buried inside some respectable man’s dwelling-house.* The scene reminds you strongly of the Sonneurs of Brittany and the Zampognari from the Abruz- zian Highlands bagpiping before the Madonna. ‘There a tall, gaunt Maghrabi displays upon a square yard of 1 Al-Ghada is the early dinner: Al-Asha, the supper, eaten shortly after sunset. (See Lane’s Modern Egyptians, Chap. 5.) 2 Extra prayers repeated in the month of Ramazan, (Lane, Chap. 25, ‘‘ Tarawih.”) They take about an hour, consisting of 23 prostrations, with the Salam (or blessing on the Prophet) after every second prostration. 3 The Shisha, or Egyptian and Syrian water-pipe, is too well known to require any description. It is filled with a kind of tobacco called Tumbak, for which see Chap. 4 of this Volume. 4 Strangers often wonder to see a kind of cemetery let into a dwelling-house in a crowded street. The reason is, that some obsti- nate saint has insisted upon being buried there, by the simple process of weighing so heavily in his bier, that the bearers have been obliged to place him on the pavement. Of course, no good Moslem would object to have his ground floor occupied by the corpse of a holy man. The reader will not forget, that in Europe statues have the whims which dead bodies exhibit in Egypt. So, according to the Abbé Marche, the little statue of Our Lady, lately found in the forest of Pennacom, ‘became, notwithstanding her small size, heavy as a mountain, and would not consent to be removed Ry any one but the chaplain of the chateau.” . V.—The Ramazan. 81 ditty paper certain lines and blots, supposed to represent the venerable Ka’abah, and collects coppers to defray the expenses of his pilgrimage. A steady stream of loungers sets through the principal thoroughfares towards the Azbakiyah Gardens, which skirt the Frank quarter ; there they sit in the moonlight, listening to Greek and Turkish bands, or making merry with cakes, toasted grains, coffee, sugared-drinks, and the broad pleasantries of Kara Gytz' (the local Punch and Judy). Here the scene is less thoroughly Oriental than within the city; but the appear- ance of Frank dress amongst the varieties of Eastern cos- tume, the moon-lit sky, and the light mist hanging over the deep shade of the Acacia trees—whose rich scented yellow-white blossoms are popularly compared to the old Pasha’s beard?—make it passing picturesque. And the traveller from the far East remarks with wonder the presence of certain ladies, whose only mark of modesty is the Burka or face-veil: upon this laxity the police looks with lenient eyes, inasmuch as, until very lately, it paid a respectable tax to the state.’ Returning to the Moslem quarter, you are bewildered 1 Europeans compare ‘‘ Kara Gyuz’’ to our Chinese shadows. Fle is the Turkish ‘‘ Punch,” and his pleasantries may remind the ‘traveller of what he has read concerning the Mimesand Fescennine performances of the Romans. On more than one occasion, Kara Gyuz has been reported to the police for scandalously jibing and deriding consuls, Frank merchants, and even Turkish dignitaries. 2 Mohammed Ali drained and planted the Azbakiyah, which, before his day, was covered with water and mud long after the inun- dation hadceased. The Egyptians extract a perfume, an aphrodisiac, which they call ‘‘ Fitnah,”’ from this kind of Acacia. 3 All ‘‘ Agapemones”’ are at this time suppressed, by order of His Highness (Abbas Pasha), whese august mother occasionally insisted upon banishing whole colleges of Ambubaiz to Upper Egypt. As might be expected, this proceeding had a most injurivas effect upon the morals of society. I wasonce at Cairo during the ruler’s absence on a tour up tothe Nile; his departure was the signai for the general celebration of Cotyttia, 82 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. by its variety of sounds. Everyone talks, and talking here is always in extremes, either in a whisper, or in a scream; gesticulation excites the lungs, and strangers cannot persuade themselves that men so converse without being or becoming furious. All the street cries, too, are in the soprano key. ‘In thy protection! in thy protec- tion!” shouts a Fellah peasant to a sentinel, whois flogging him towards the station-house, followed by a tail of women, screaming, ‘‘ Ya Gharati—ya Dahwati—ya Has- rati—ya Nidamati—O my calamity! O my shame!” The boys have elected a Pasha, whom they are conduct- ing in procession, with wisps of straw for Mash’als, or cressets, and outrunners, all huzzaing with ten-schoolboy power. ‘‘O thy right! O thy left! O thy face! O thy heel! O thy back, thy back!” cries the panting footman, who, huge torch on shoulder, runs before the grandee’s carriage ; ‘‘ Bless the Prophet and get out of the way!” ‘OQ Allah bless him!” respond the good Moslems, some shrinking up to the walls to avoid the stick, others rush- ing across the road, so as to give themselves every chance of being knocked down. ‘The donkey boy beats his ass with a heavy palm-cudgel,—he fears no treadmill here,— cursing him at the top of his voice for a ‘‘ pander,” a ‘‘ Jew,” a “Christian,” and a ‘‘son of the One-eyed, whose portion is Eternal Punishment.” ‘‘ O chick pease ! O pips !”’ sings the vendor of parched grains, rattling the unsavoury load in his basket. ‘Out of the way, and say, ‘There is one God,’”’ pants the industrious water- carrier, laden with a skin, fit burden for a buffalo. ‘* Sweet-water, and gladden thy soul, O lemonade!” pipes the seller of that luxury, clanging his brass cups together. Then come the beggars, intensely Oriental. ‘ My supper is in Allah’s hands, my supper is in Allah’s hands! what- ever thou givest, that will go with thee!” chaunts the old vagrant, whose wallet perhaps contains more provi- sion than the basket of many a regpectable shopkeeper. V.—The Ramazan. | 83 * Na’al abtik’— curse thy father—O brother of a naughty sister!” is the response of some petulant Greek to the touch of the old man’s staff. ‘‘ The grave is darkness, and good deeds are its lamp!” sing the blind women, rapping two sticks together: “upon Allah! upon Allah! -O daughter!” cry the bystanders, when the obstinate ‘“‘ bint’? (daughter) of sixty years seizes their hands, and will not let go without extorting a farthing. ‘* Bring the sweet” (7.¢. fire), ‘and take the full,’® (¢.e.. empty cup), euphuistically cry the long-moustached, fierce-browed Arnauts to the coffee-house keeper, who stands by them charmed by the rhyming repartee that flows so readily from their lips. ‘*‘ Hanzen,”’ may it be pleasant to thee !* is the signal for encounter. | I For La’an abik, curse thy father. Soin Europe pious men have sworn per diem, instead of pey Deum, and ‘‘ drat’ acts for something stronger. 2 A daughter, a girl. In Egypt, every woman expects to be addressed as ‘‘O lady!” ‘“‘O female-pilgrim !’’ ‘‘O bride!’’ or, ‘‘O - daughter !’’ even though she be on the wrong side of fifty. In Syria and in Arabia, you may say ‘“y’al mara!’’ (O woman); but if you attempt it near the Nile, the answer of the offended fair one will be “may Allah cut out thy heart!’ or, ‘the woman, please Allah, in thine eye!’ And if you want a violent quarrel, ‘‘ y’al agiz!’’ (O old woman!) pronounced drawlingly,—y’al ago-o-00z,—is sure to satisfy -you. On the plains of Sorrento, in my day, it was always customary, when speaking to a peasant girl, to call her ‘‘bella fé,” (beautiful woman), whilst the worst of insults was ‘ vecchiarella.’’ So the Spanish Calesero, under the most trying circumstances, calls his mule ‘‘ Vieja, rivieja,” (old, veryold). Age, it appears, is as unpopular in Southern Europe as in Egypt. 3 ‘‘Fire’’ is called the ‘‘sweet’’ by euphuism, as to name it directly would be ill-omened. Soin the Moslem law, flame and water being the instruments of Allah’s wrath, are forbidden to be used by temporal rulers. The ‘‘full’’ means an empty coffee cup, as we say in India Mez barhao (‘‘ increase the table,’’) when ordering a servant to remove the dishes. 4 Or “‘ pleasurably and health” : Hanien is a word taken from the 84 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. ‘‘ Thou drinkest for ten,” replies the other, instead of returning the usual religious salutation. ‘‘T am the cock and thou art the hen!” is the re- joinder,—a tart one. ‘‘ Nay, I am the thick one and thou art the thin!” resumes the first speaker, and so on till they come to equivoques which will not bear a literal English trans- lation. And sometimes, high above the hubbub, rises the melo- dious voice of the blind mu’ezzin, who, from his balcony in the beetling tower rings forth, “¢‘ Hie ye to devotion! Hie ye to salvation.” And (at morning-prayer time) he adds: ‘Devotion is better than sleep! Devotion is better than sleep!” Then good Moslems piously stand up, and mutter, previous to prayer, ‘“*‘ Here am I at Thy call, O Allah! here am I at Thy call!” Sometimes I walked with my friend to the citadel, and sat upon a high wall, one of the outworks of Mohammed Ali’s Mosque, enjoying a view which, seen by night, when the summer moon is near the full, has a charm no power of language can embody. Or escaping from ‘‘ stifled Cairo’s filth,”’ we passed, through the Gate of Victory, into the wilderness beyond the City of the Dead.? Seated upon some mound of ruins, we inhaled Koran. The proper answer to this is ‘‘ May Allah cause thee to have: pleasure !”” Hanna-kumi'llah, not ‘ Allah yahannik!’’ which I have heard abominably perverted by Arnaut and other ruffians. 1 This in these days must be said comparatively: Ibrahim Pasha’s order, that every housekeeper should keep the space before his house properly swept and cleaned, has made Cairo the least filthy city in the East. 2 Here lies the Swiss Burckhardt, who enjoyed a wonderful immunity from censure, until a certain pseudo-orientalist of the pres- ent day seized the opportunity of using the ‘unscrupulous tra- veller’s’’ information, and of abusing his memory. Some years ago, the sum of £20 (I am informed) was collected, in order-to raise a fitting monument over the discoverer of Petra'’s humble graye V.—The Ramazan. 85 the fine air of the Desert, inspiriting as a cordial, when star-light and dew-mists diversified a scene, which, by day, is one broad sea of yellow loam with billows of chalk rock, thinly covered by a film-like spray of sand surging and floating in the fiery wind. There, within a mile of crowded life, all is desolate; the town walls seem crumbling to decay, the hovels are tenantless, and the paths untrodden; behind you lies the Wild, before you, the thousand tomb-stones, ghastly in their whiteness; while beyond them the tall dark forms of the Mamluk Soldans’ towers rise from the low and hollow ground like the spirits of kings guarding ghostly subjects in the Shadowy Realm. Nor less weird than the scene are the sounds !—the hyzena’s laugh, the howl of the wild dog, and the screech of the low-flying owl. Or we spent the evening at some Takiyah' (Darwayshes’ Oratory), generally preferring that called the ‘‘ Gulshani,” near the Muayyid Mosque outside the Mutawalli’s saintly door. There is nothing attractive ints appearance. You mount a flight of ragged steps, and enter a low verandah enclosing an open stuccoed terrace, where stands the holy man’s domed tomb: the two stories contain small dark rooms in which the Dar- wayshes dwell, and the ground-floor doors open into the Some objection, however, was started, because Moslems are supposed to claim Burckhardt as one of their own saints. Only hear the Egyptian account of his death! After returning from Al-Hijaz, he taught Tajwid (Koran chaunting) in the Azhar Mosque, where the learned, suspecting him to be at heart an infidel, examined his person, and found the formula of the Mohammedan faith written in token of abhorrence upon the soles of his feet. Thereupon, the principal of the Mosque, in a transport of holy indignation, did decapitate him with one blow of the sword. It only remains to be observed, that nothing can be more ridiculous than the popular belief, except it be our hesitating to offend the prejudices of such believers. 1 A Takiyah is a place where Darwayshes have rooms, and per- form their devotions, 86 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. verandah. During the fast-month, Zikrs! are rarely per- formed in the Takiyahs: the inmates pray there in con- gregations, or they sit conversing upon benches in the shade. And a curious medley of men they are, composed of the choicest vagabonds from every nation of Al-Islam. Beyond this I must not describe the Takiyah or the doings there, for the ‘‘ path” of the Darwaysh may not be trodden by feet profane. Curious to see something of my old friends the Per- sians, I called with Haji Wali upon one Mirza Husayn, who by virtue of his dignity as ‘‘ Shahbandar?” (he calls himself ‘‘ Consul-General”’), ranks with the dozen little quasi-diplomatic kings of Cairo. He suspends over his lofty gate a sign-board in which the Lion and the Sun (Iran’s proud ensign) are by some Egyptian limner’s art metamorphosed into a preternatural tabby cat grasping a scimitar, with the jolly fat face of a ‘“‘ gay” young lady, curls and all complete, resting fondly upon her pet’s con- a cave back. This high dignitary’s reception room was a _ court-yard sub dio: fronting the door were benches and cushions composing the Sadr or high place, with the parallel rows of Diwans spread down the less dignified sides, and a line of naked boards, the lowest seats, ranged along the door-wall. In the middle stood three little tables supporting three huge lanterns—as is their size so is the owner’s dignity—each of which contained three of the largest spermaceti candles. The Haji and I entering took our seats upon the side benches with humility, and exchanged salutations with the great man on the Sadr. When the Darbar or levee was full, in stalked the Mirza, and all arose as he calmly divested himself of his shoes; and with all due 1 Certain forms of worship peculiar to Darwayshes. For a description see Lane (Modern Egyptians, ch. 24). 2 Shahbandar, Harbour-King, is here equivalent to our ‘‘ Consul.” V.—The Ramazan. 87 solemnity ascended his proper cushion. Heis a short, thin man about thirty-five, with regular features and the usual preposterous lamb-skin cap and beard, two peaked black cones at least four feet in length, measured from the tips, resting on a slender basement of pale yellow face. After a quarter of an hour of ceremonies, polite mutterings and low bendings with the right hand on the left breast, the Mirza’s pipe was handed to him first, in token of his dignity—at Teheran he was probably an under-clerk in some government office. In due time we were all served with Kaliains? (Persian hookahs) and coffee by the ser- vants, who made royal congés whenever they passed the great man; and more than once the janissary, in dignity of belt and crooked sabre, entered the court to quicken our awe. The conversation was the usual Oriental thing. It is, for instance, understood that you have seen strange things in strange lands. “« Voyaging—is—victory,’’ quotes the Mirza; the quotation is a hackneyed one, but it steps forth majestic as to pause and emphasis. “Verily,” you reply with equal ponderousness of pronunciation and novelty of citation, ‘“‘in leaving home one learns life, yet a journey is a bit of Jahannam.” Or if you are a physician the ‘lew commun” will be, Little-learn'’d doctors the body destroy : Little-learn’d parsons the soul destroy.”’ To which you will make answer, if you would pass for a man of belles lettves, by the well-known lines, “ Of a truth, the physician hath power with drugs, Which, long as the patient hath life, may relieve him ; But the tale of our days being duly told, The doctor is daft, and his drugs deceive him.”’ After sitting there with dignity, like the rest of the guests, I took my leave, delighted with the truly Persian 1 Written “ Ghalayé an." 88 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. ‘¢apparatus” of the scene. The Mirza, having no salary, lives by fees extorted from his subjects, who pay rather than lack protection; and his dragoman for a counter-fee will sell their interests shamelessly. He is a hidalgo of blue blood in pride, pompousness and poverty. ‘There is not a sheet of writing-paper in the ‘‘ Consulate ’—when they want one a farthing is sent to the grocer’s—yet the Consul drives out in an old carriage with four outriders, two tall-capped men preceding and two following the crazy vehicle. And the Egyptians laugh heartily at this display, being accustomed by Mohammed Ali to consider all such parade obsolete. About half-an-hour before midnight sounds the Abrar’ or call to prayer, at which time the latest wanderers return home to prepare for the Sahur, their dawn meal. You are careful on the way to address each sentinel with a ‘* Peace be upon thee!” especially if you have no lantern, otherwise you may chance to sleep in the guard- house. And, chemin faisant, you cannot but stop to gaze at streets as little like what civilised Europe understands by that name as is an Egyptian temple to the new Houses of Parliament. There are certain scenes, cannily termed ‘ Ken- speckle,” which print themselves upon Memory, and which endure as long as Memory lasts,—a thunder-cloud bursting upon the Alps, a night of stormy darkness off the Cape, an African tornado, and, perhaps, most awful of all, a solitary journey over the sandy Desert. Of this class is a stroll through the thoroughfares of old Cairo by night. Allis squalor in the brilliancy of noon-day. In darkness you see nothing but a silhouette. When, however, the moon is high in the heavens, and the summer stars rain light upon God’s world, there is ES not of earth in the view. A eluapee at the mem en rr ~ z See Lane eri allots Reypthla, an 24). V.—The Ramazan. 89 strip of pale blue sky above scarcely reveals three ells of breadth: in many places the interval is less: here the copings meet, and there the outriggings of the houses seem to interlace. Now they are parted by a pencil of - snowy sheen, then by a flood of silvery splendour; while under the projecting cornices and the huge hanging balcony-windows of fantastic wood-work, supported by gigantic brackets and corbels, and under deep verandahs, and gateways, vast enough for Behemoth to pass through, and in blind wynds and long cul-de-sacs, lie patches of thick darkness, made visible by the dimmest of oil lamps. The arch is a favourite feature: in one place you see it a mere skeleton-rib opening into some huge deserted hall ; in another the ogre is full of fretted stone and wood carved like lace-work. Not a line is straight, the tall dead walls of the Mosques slope over their massy but- tresses, and the thin minarets seem about to fal] across your path. The cornices project crookedly from the houses, while the great gables stand merely by force of cohesion. And that the Line of Beauty may not be wanting, the graceful bending form of the palm, on whose topmost feathers, quivering in the cool night breeze, the moonbeam glistens, springs from a gloomy mound, or from the darkness of a mass of houses almost level with the ground. Briefly, the whole view is so strange, so fantastic, so ghostly, that it seems prepos- _terous to imagine that in such places human beings like ourselves can be born, and live through life, and carry out the command ‘ increase and multiply,” and die. CHAPTER Vin THE MOSQUE. WHEN the Byzantine Christians, after overthrowing ,. the temples of Paganism, meditated re-building and re- modelling them, poverty of invention and artistic impotence reduced them to group the spoils in a heterogeneous mass.1 The sea-ports of Egypt and the plains and moun- tains of Syria abounding in pillars of granite, syenite and precious marbles, in Pharaonic, Grecian, and Roman statuary, and in all manner of structural ornaments, the architects were at no loss for material. Their Syncretism, the result of chance and precipitancy, of extravagance and incuriousness, fell under eyes too ignorant to be hurt by the hybrid irregularity : it was perpetuated in the so-called Saracenic style, a plagiarism from the Byzantine,? and it was reiterated in the Gothic, an offshoot from the . Saracenic.®? This fact’ accounts in the Gothic style for its manifold incongruities of architecture, and for the phenomenon,—not solely attributable to the buildings 1 In the capitals of the columns, for instance. 2 This direct derivation is readily detected in the Mosques at Old Cairo. 3 The roof supported by arches resting on pillars, was unknown to classic antiquity, and in the earliest ages of Al-Islam, the cloisters were neither arched nor domed. A modern writer justly observes, ‘A compound of arcade and colonnade was suggested to the archi- tects of the Middle Ages by the command that ancient buildings gave them of marble columns.”’ | VI.—The Mosque. gl having been erected piecemeal,—of its most classic period being that of its greatest irregularity. Such ‘ architectural lawlessness,” such disregard for - symmetry,—the result, I believe, of an imperfect ‘‘amal- _ gamation and enrichment,’”—may doubtless be defended. upon the grounds both of cause and of effect. Archi- tecture is of the imitative arts, and Nature, the Myrio- morphous, everywhere delighting in variety, appears to abhor nothing so much as perfect similarity and pre- cise uniformity. To copy her exactly we must therefore seek that general analogy compatible with individual variety; in fact, we should avoid the over-display of order and regularity. And again, it may beasserted that, however incongruous these disorderly forms may appear to the conventional eye, we find it easy to surmount our first antipathy. Perhaps we end in admiring them the more, as we love those faces in which irregularity of feature is compensated for by diversity and piquancy of expression. There is nothing, I believe, new in the Arab Mosque; it is an unconscious revival of the forms used from the eatliest ages to denote by symbolism the worship of the generative and the creative gods. The reader will excuse me if I only glance at a subject of which the investigation would require a volume, and which, discussed at greater length, would be out of place in such a narrative as this. The first Mosque in Al-Islam was erected by Mohammed at Kuba, near Al-Madinah: shortly after- wards, when he entered Meccah as a conqueror, he destroyed the three hundred and sixty idols of the Arab Pantheon, and thus purified that venerable building from its abominations. He had probably observed in Syrian Bostra the two forms appropriated by the Christians to their places of worship, the cross and the parallelogramic Basilica; he therefore preferred for the prayers of the “Saving Faith” a square,—some authors say, with, others 92 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. without, a cloister. At length in the reign of Al-Walfd (A.H. 90) the cupola, the niche, and the minaret made their appearance; and what is called the Saracenic style became for ever the order of the Moslem world. : The Hindus I believe to have been the first who symbolised by an equilateral triangle their peculiar cult, the Yoni-Linga: in their temple architecture, it became either a conoid or a perfect pyramid. Egypt denoted it by the obelisk, peculiar to that country; and the form appeared in different parts of the world: thus in Eng- land it was a mere upright stone, and in Ireland a round tower. This we might expect to see. D’Hancarville and Brotier have successfully traced the worship itself, in its different modifications, to all people: the symbol would therefore be found everywhere. The old Arab minaret is a plain cylindrical or polygonal tower, without balcony or stages, widely different from the Turkish, modern Egyptian, and Hijazi combinations of tube and prism, happily compared by a French traveller to ‘‘ une chandelle coiffée Wun étergnoiy.” And finally the ancient minaret, made solid as all Gothic architecture is, and provided with a belfry, became the spire and steeple of our ances- tors. From time immemorial, in hot and rainy lands, a hypzthral court, either round or square, surrounded by a covered portico, was used for the double purpose of church and mart,—a place where God and Mammon were wor- shipped turn by turn. In some places we find rings of stones, like the Persian Pyrcetheia; in others, circular concave buildings representing the vault of heaven, where Fire, the divine symbol, was worshipped; and in Arabia, columinar aisles, which, surmounted by the splendid blue vault, resemble the palm-grove. The Greeks adopted this idea in the fanes of Creator Bacchus; and at Pozzuoli, near Naples, it may be seen in the building: vulgarly called the Temple of Serapis. . It was equally well known Vi.—The Mosque. 93 to the Kelts: in some places the Temenos was a circle, in others a quadrangle. And such to the present day is the Mosque of Al-Islam. Even the Riwak or porches surrounding the area in the Mosque are revivals of older forms. ‘ The range of square buildings which enclose the temple of Serapis are not, properly speaking, parts of the fane, but apartments of the priests, places for victims, and sacred utensils, and chapels dedicated to subordinate deities, introduced by a more complicated and corrupt worship, and probably un- known to the founders of the original edifice.’ The cloisters in the Mosque became cells, used as lecture rooms, and stores for books bequeathed to the college. They are unequal, because some are required to be of larger, others to be of smaller, dimensions. The same reason causes difference of size when the building is distributed into four hyposteles opening upon the area: the porch in the direction of the Ka’abah, where wor- shippers mostly congregate, demands greater depth than the other three. The wings were not unfrequently made unequal, either from want of building materials, or because the same extent of accommodation was not re- quired in both. Thecolumns were of different substances ; some of handsome marble, others of rough stone meanly plastered over, with dissimilar capitals, vulgarly cut shafts of various sizes; here with a pediment, there with- out, now turned upside down, then joined together by halves in the centre, and almost invariably nescient of intercolumnar rule. ‘This is the result of Byzantine syn- cretism, carelessly and ignorantly grafted upon Arab ideas of the natural and the sublime. Loving and ad- miring the great, or rather the big in plan,’ they care 1 ‘* The Oriental mind,” says a clever writer on Indian subjects, ‘thas achieved everything save real greatness of aim and execution.” That the Arab mind always aimed, and still aims, at the physically great is sufficiently evident. Nothing affords the. Meccans greater g4 Pilgrimage to “Al-Madinah and Meccah. little for the execution of mere details, and they have not the acumen to discern the effect which clumsy workman- ship, crooked lines, and visible joints,—parts apparently insignificant,—exercise upon the whole of an edifice. Their use of colours was a false taste, commonly displayed by mankind in their religious houses, and statues of the gods. The Hindus paint their pagodas, inside and outside; and rub vermilion, in token of honour, over their deities. The Persian Colossi of Kaiomars and his consort on the Balkh road and the Sphinx of Egypt, as well as the temples of the Nile, still show traces of artificial complexion. The fanes in classic Greece have been dyed. In the Forum Romanum, one of the finest buildings, still bears stains of the Tyrian purple. And to mention no other instances, in the churches and belfries of Modern Italy, we see alternate bands of white and black material so disposed as to give them the appearance of giant zebras. The origin of ‘ Arab- esque’? ornament must be referred to one of the principles of Al-Islam. The Moslem, forbidden by his law to decorate his Mosque with statuary and pictures,’ supplied their place with quotations from the Koran, and inscriptions, ‘‘ plastic metaphysics,” of marvellous per- pride than the vast size of their temple. Nothing is more humiliating to the people of Al-Madinah than the comparative smallness of their Mosque. Still, with a few exceptions, Arab greatness is the vulgar great, not the grand. 1 That is to say, imitations of the human form. All the doctors of Al-Islam, however, differ on this head: some absolutely forbidding any delineation of what has life, under pain of being cast into hell; others permitting pictures even of the bodies, though not of the faces, of men. -The Arabs are the strictest of Misiconists; yet even they allow plans and pictures of the Holy Shrines. Other nations are comparatively lax. The Alhambra abounds in paintings and fres- coes. The Persians never object to depict in books and on walls the battles of Rustam, and the Turks preserve in the Seraglio treasury of Constantinople portraits, by Greeks and other artists, of their Sultans in regular succession. . ; VI.—The Mosque. 95 plexity. His alphabet lent itself to the purpose, and hence probably arose that almost inconceivable variety of lace-like fretwork, of incrustations, of Arabesques, and ot geometric flowers, in which his eye delights to iose itself. The Meccan Mosque became a model to the world of Al-Islam, and the nations that embraced the new faith copied the consecrated building, as religiously as Christen- dom produced imitations of the Holy Sepulchre.? The Mosque of Omar at Jerusalem, of Amra at Babylon on the Nile, and of Taylan at Cairo were erected, with some trifling improvements, such as arched cloisters and in- scribed cornices, upon the plan of the Ka’abah. From Egypt and Palestine the.ichnography spread far and wide. It was modified, as might be expected, by national taste; what in Arabia was simple and elegant became highly ornate in Spain,’ florid in Turkey, sturdy in Syria, and effeminate in India. Still divergence of detail had not, even after the lapse of twelve centuries, materially altered the fundamental form. 1 This is at least a purer taste than that of our Gothic architects, who ornamented their cathedrals with statuary so inappropriate as to suggest to the antiquary remains of the worship of the Hellespontine god. ; 2 At Bruges, Bologna, (St. Stefano), and Nurnberg, there are, if I recollect right, imitations of the Holy Sepulchre, although. the palmer’ might not detect the resemblance at first sight. That in the Church of Jerusalem at Bruges was built by a merchant, who trav- elled three times to Palestine in order to ensure correctness, and totally failed. ‘‘ Arabart,”’ says a writer in the ‘‘ Athenzeum,”’ “ sprang from the Koran, as the Gothic did from the Bible.’”’ He should have _remembered, that Arab art, in its present shape, was borrowed by Al-Walid from the Greeks, and, perhaps, in part from the Persians and the Hindus, but that the model buildings existed at Meccah, and in Al-Yaman, centuries before the people had ‘ luxurious shawls and weavings of Cashmere” to suggest mural decoration. 3 See Théophile Gautier’s admirable description of the Mosque at Cordova. 96 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. Perhaps no Eastern city affords more numerous or more accessible specimens of Mosque architecture than Cairo. Between 300 and 400 places of worship;! some stately piles, others ruinous hovels, many new, more decaying and earthquake-shaken, with minarets that rival in obliquity the Pisan monster, are open to the traveller’s inspection. And Europeans by following the advice of their hotel-keeper have penetrated, and can penetrate, into any one they please.’ If architecture be really what I believe it to be, the highest expression of a people’s artistic feeling,—highest because it includes all others,— to compare the several styles of the different epochs, to observe how each monarch building his own Mosque, and calling it by his own name, identified the manner of the monument with himself, and to trace the gradual decadence of art through one thousand two hundred years, down to the present day, must be a work of no ordinary inter- est to Orientalists. The limits of my plan, however, compel me to place only the heads of the argument before the reader. May I be allowed to express a hope that it will induce some learned traveller to investigate a subject in every way worthy his attention ? The desecrated Jami’ Taylin (ninth century) is simple and massive, yet elegant, and in some of its details pecu- liar.® One of the four colonnades‘ still remains un- 1 Joseph Pitts, of Exeter, declares that Cairo contained in his day (A.D. 1678-93) 5 or 6000 Mosques, public and private; at the same time he corrects Mr. Collins, who enumérated 6000 public, and 20,000 particular buildings, and M. de Thevenot, who (Part I. p. 129), supplied the city with 23,000! 2 In Niebuhr’s time, a Christian passing one of the very holy buildings on foot was liable to be seized and circumcised. All Mosques may now be entered with certain precautions. When at Cairo, I heard occasionally of a Frank being spat at and insulted, but the instances were rare . 3 The “ Handbook” contains the story curtent among thé learned concerning the remarkable shape of the minaret. 4 The columns support pointed arches, which, therefore, were VI.—The Mosque. 97 oceupied by paupers to show the original magnificence of the building ; the other porches are walled up, and inha- bited. In the centre of a quadrangle about 100 paces square isa domed building springing from a square which _eccupies the proper place of the Ka’abah. This ‘‘ Jami?” Cathedral is interesting as a point of comparison. If it be an exact copy of the Meccan temple as it stood in A.D. 879, it shows that the latter has greatly altered in this our modern day. Next in date to the Taylun Mosque is that of the Sultan al-Hakim, third Caliph of the Fatimites, and founder of the Druze mysteries. The minarets are re-. markable in shape, as well as size: they are unprovided with the usual outer gallery, they are based upon a cube of masonry, and they are pierced above with aper- tures apparently meaningless. A learned Cairene in- formed me that these spires were devised by the eccentric monarch to disperse, like large censers, fragrant smoke over the city during the hours of prayer. The Azhar and Hasanayn? Mosques are simple and artless piles, cele- brated for sanctity, but remarkable for nothing save ugliness. Few buildings, however, are statelier in appear- known at Cairo 200 years before they were introduced into England. By the discoveries of M. Mariette, it is now ascertained that the Egyptians were perfectly acquainted with the round arch and: key- stone at a period antecedent to the architectural existence of Greece. 1 A ‘Jami’”’ is a place where people assemble to pray—a house of public worship. A ‘‘ Masjid" is any place of prayer, private or public. From ‘ Masjid ’’ we derive our ‘* Mosque”’: its changes on the road to Europe are almost as remarkable as that described in the ‘Satiric lines,— “ Alfana vient d’equus, sans doute, Mais il faut avouer aussi, Qu en venant de la jusqu’ici Tl a bien changé sur la route.” 2 So called, because supposed to contain relics of Hasan and VOL. I. E ° 98 Pilevimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. ance, or give a nobler idea of both founder and architect than that which bears Sultan Hasan’s name. The stranger stands awe-struck before walls high towering without a single break, a hypzthral court severe in mas- culine beauty, a gateway that. might suit the palace gf the Titans, and a lofty minaret of massive grandeur. This Mosque (finished about A.D. I 363), with its fortress _ aspect, owns no more relationship to the efforts of a later | | age than does Canterbury Cathedral to an Anglo-Indian “Gothic.” For dignified beauty and refined taste, the Mosque and tomb of Kaid Bey and the other Mamluk kings are admirable. Even in their present state, pic- turesqueness presides over decay, and the traveller has seldom seen aught more striking than the rich light of | the stained glass pouring through the first shades of | evening upon the marble floor. | The modern Mosques must be visited to see Egyptian | architecture in its decline and fall. That of Sittna Zaynab | (our Lady Zaynab), founded by Murad Bey, the Mamluk, | and interrupted by the French invasion, shows, even in | its completion, some lingering traces of taste. But. nothing can be more offensive than the building which every tourist flogs donkey in his hurry to see—old Mo-| hammed Ali’s “ Folly ” in the citadel. Its Greek architect | has toiled to caricature a Mosque to emulate the glories, of our English ‘Oriental Pavilion.” Outside, as Monckton Milnes sings, | ‘The shining minarets, thin and high,” | are so thin, so high above the lumpy domes, that they ES ee Husayn, the martyred grandsons of Mohammed. ‘The tradition is} little credited, and the Persians ostentatiously avoid visiting the) place. ‘‘ You are the first ‘Ajami that ever said the Fatihah at this), holy spot,” quoth the Mujawir, or guardian of the tomb, after com- pelling me, almost by force, to repeat the formula, which he recited} with the prospect of a few piastres. | Vi.—The Mosque. 99 look like the spindles of crouching crones, and are placed in full sight of Sultan Hasan the Giant, so as to derive all the disadvantages of the contrast. Is the pointed arch forgotten by man, that this hapless building should be disgraced by large and small parallelograms of glass and wood,’ so placed and so formed as to give its exterior the appearance of a European theatre coiffé with Oriental cupolas? Outside as well as inside, money has been lavished upon alabaster full of flaws; round the bases of pillars run gilt bands; in places the walls are painted with streaks to resemble marble, and the wood- work is overlaid with tinsel gold. After a glance at these abominations, one cannot be surprised to hear the old men of Egypt lament that, in spite of European educa- tion, and of prizes encouraging geometry and architecture, modern art offers a melancholy contrast to antiquity. It is said that H. H. Abbas Pasha proposes to erect for himself a Mosque that shall far surpass the boast of the last generation. I venture to hope that his architect will light the ‘“‘sacred fire” from Sultan Hasan’s, not from Mohammed Ali’s, Turco-Grecian splendours. The former is like the genuine Osmanli of past ages, fierce, cold, with a stalwart frame, index of a strong mind— there was a sullen grandeur about the man. The latter ‘is the pert and puny modern Turk in pantaloons, frock _ coat and Fez, ill-dressed, ill-conditioned, and ill-bred, body _ and soul. 1 This is becoming the fashion for young Egyptians, who will readily receive a pair of common green persiennes in exchange for fine old windows of elaborately carved wood. ‘They are as sensible in a variety of other small matters. Natives of a hot climate generally wear slippers of red and yellow leather, because they are cool and comfortable: on the banks of the Nile, the old chaussure is gradually yielding to black shoes, which biister the feet with heat, but are European, and, therefore, bon ton. It must, however, be confessed that the fine old. carved wood-work of the windows was removed because it was found to be dangerous in cases of fire 100 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. We will now enter the Mosque Al-Azhar. At the dwarf wooden railing we take off our slippers, hold them in the left hand, sole to sole, that no dirt may fall from them, and cross the threshold with the right foot, ejacu- lating Bismillah, &c. Next we repair to the Mayza’ah, or large tank, for ablution, without which it is unlawful to appear in the House of Allah. We then seek some proper place for devotion, place our slippers on some other object in front of us to warn the lounger, and perform a two-bow prayer in honour of the Mosque.’ This done, we may wander about, and inspect the several objects of curlosity. The moon shines splendidly upon a vast open court, paved with stones which are polished like glass by the feet of the Faithful. There is darkness in the body of the building, a large oblong hall, at least twice too lengthy for its height, supported by a forest of pillars, thin, poor- looking, crooked marble columns, planted avenue-like, upon torn and dirty matting. A few oil lamps shed doubtful light over scanty groups, who are debating some point of grammar, or are listening to the words of wisdom — that fall from the mouth of a W4’iz.2 Presently they will | leave the hypostyle, and throw themselves upon the flags | of the quadrangle, where they may enjoy the open air. and avoid some fleas. It is now ‘long vacation”: so the | holy building has become a kind of Caravanserai for tra- | 1 Irreligious men neglect this act of propriety. There are — many in Egypt who will habitually transgress one of the funda- | mental orders of their faith, namely, never to pray when in a state | of religious impurity. In popular Avgot, prayer without ablution is called Salat Mamlikiyah, or “ slaves’ prayers,” because such men | perform their devotions only in order to avoid the master’s staff. Others will touch the Koran when impure, a circumstance, which | highly disgusts Indian Moslems. | 2 An “adviser,” or “lect *rer,""-—any learned man who, generally | in the months of Ramazan and Muharram, after the Friday service | and sermon, delivers a discourse upon the principles of Al-islam.” | VI.—The Mosque. Io! vellers; perhaps a score of nations meet in it; there is _a confusion of tongues, and the din at times is deafening. Around the court runs a tolerably well-built colonnade, whose entablature is garnished with crimson arabesques, and in the inner wall are pierced apartments, now closed with plank doors. Of the Riwak, as the porches are called, the Azhar contains twenty-four, one for each re- cogniseéd nation in Al-Islam, and of these fifteen are still open to students.’ Inside them we find nothing but matting and a pile of large dingy wooden boxes, which once contained the college library; they are now, generally speaking, empty.’ There is nothing worth seeing in the cluster of little dark chambers that form the remainder of the Azhar. Even the Zawiyat al-Umya4n (or the Blind men’s Oratory), a place where so many ‘town and gown rows” have emanated, is rendered interesting only by the fanaticism of its inmates, and the certainty that, if recognised in this _1 Amongst them is a foundation for Jawischolars. Some of our authors, by a curious mistake, have confounded Moslem Jawa (by the Egyptians pronounced Gawa), with ‘‘ Goa,” the Christian colony of the Portuguese. 2 Cairo was once celebrated for its magnificent collections of books. Besides private libraries, each large Mosque had its biblio- theca, every MS. of which was marked with the word ‘‘Wakf" (entailed bequest), or ‘* Wukifa I’Illahi Ta’4la’’ (bequeathed to God Almighty). But Cairo has now for years supplied other countries with books, and the decay of religious zeal has encouraged the ‘unprincipled to steal and sell MSS. marked with the warning words. The Hijaz, in particular, has been inundated with books from Egypt. Cairo has still some large libraries, but most of them are private property, and the proprietors will not readily lend or give access to their treasures. The principal opportunity of buying books is dur- ing the month Ramazan, when they are publicly sold in the Azhar Mosque. ‘The Orientalist will, however, meet with many disappoint- ments ; besides the difficulty of discovering good works, he will find in the booksellers, scribes, ef hoc genus omne, a finished race of scoun- drels. baa’ . 102 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. sanctum, we shall run the gauntlet under the staves of its proprietors, the angry blind. The Azhar is the grand collegiate Mosque of this. city,—the Christ Church, in fact, of Cairo,—once cele- brated throughout the world of Al-Islam. It was built, I was told, originally in poor style by one Jauhar al- Kaid,! originally the slave of a Moorish merchant, in consequence of a dream that ordered him to ‘“‘erect a place whence the light of science should shine upon Al-Islam.” It gradually increased by ‘ Wakf?” (entailed be- quests) of lands, money, and books; and pious rulers made a point of adding to its size and wealth. Of late years it has considerably declined, the result of sequestra- tions, and of the diminished esteem in which the purely religious sciences are now held in the land of Egypt.® Yet it is calculated that between 2000 and 3000 students of all nations and ages receive instruction here gratis. 1 Lane (Mod. Egyptians) has rectified Baron von Hammer- Purgstall’s mistake concerning the word “Azhar”; our English Orientalist translates it the ‘splendid Mosque.’’ I would venture to add, that the epithet must be understood in a spiritual and not in a material sense. Wilkinson attributes the erection of the building to Jauhar al-Kaid, general under Al-Moaz, about “A.D. 970. Wilson ascribes it partly to Al-Moaz the Fatimite (a.pD. 973), partly to his general and successor, Al-Hakim (?). 2 Wakf, property become mortmain. My friend Yacoub Artin declares that the whole Nile Valley has parcel by parcel been made Wakf at some time or other, and then retaken. 3 If I may venture to judge, after the experience of a few months, there is now a re-action in favour of the old system. Mohammed Ali managed to make his preparatory, polytechnic, and other schools, thoroughly distasteful to the people, and mothers blinded their children, to prevent their being deveted for life to infidel studies. The printing-press, contrasting in hideousness with the beauty of the written character, and the contemptible Arabic style of the various works translated by order of government from the European languages, have placed arms in the hands of the orthodox -party. ) : | | | } i VI.—The Mosque - - 103 Each one is provided with bread, in @ quantity deter- mined by the amount of endowment, at the Riwak set apart for his nation,! with some article of clothing on festival days, and a few piastres once a year. The professors, _ who are about 150 in number, may not take fees from their pupils; some lecture on account of the religious merit of the action, others to gain the high title of ‘‘ Teacher in Al Azhar.?” Six officials receive stipends from the government,—the Shaykh al-Jami’ or dean, the Shaykh al-Sakka, who regulates the provision of water for ablution, and others that pay, be called heads of departments. The following is the course of study in the Azhar. The school-boy of four or five years’ standing has been taught, by a liberal application of the maxim “ the Green Rod is of the Trees of Paradise,” to chant the Koran with- out understanding it, the elementary rules of arithmetic, and, if he is destined to be a learned man, the art of writ- ing.* He then registers his name in Al-Azhar, and applies “I Finding the Indian Riwak closed, and hearing that an endow- ment still belonged to it, I called twice upon the Shaykh or Dean, wishing to claim the stipend as a precedent. But I failed in finding him at home, and was obliged to start hurriedly for Suez. The Indians now generally study in the Sulaymdniyah, or Afghan College. 2 As the attending of lectures is not compulsory, the result is that the lecturer is always worth listening to. May I commend this consideration to our college reformers at home? In my day, men were compelled to waste—notoriously to waste—an hour or two every morning, for the purpose of putting a few pounds sterling into the pocket of some droning Don. 3 The would-be calligrapher must go toa Constantinople Khwajah (schoolmaster), and after writing about two hours a day regularly _ through a year or two, he will become, if he has the necessary dis- position, a skilful penman. This acquirement is but little valued in the present day, as almost nothing is to be gained by it. The Turks particularly excel in the ornamental character called ‘‘Suls.” I have seen some Korans beautifully written ; and the late Pasha gave an impetus to this branch of industry, by forbidding, under the 104, Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. himself to the branches of study most cultivated in Al- Islam, namely Nahw (syntax), Fikh (the law), Hadis (the traditions of the Prophet), and Tafsir, or Exposition of the Koran. The young Egyptian reads at the same time Sarf, or Inflexion, and Nahw (syntax). But as Arabic is his mother-tongue, he is not required to study the former so deeply as are the Turks, the Persians, and the Indians. If he desire, however, to be a proficient, he must carefully peruse five books in Sarf,’ and six in Nahw.? plea of religious scruples, the importation of the incorrect Korans cheaply lithographed by the Persians at Bombay. The Persians surpass the Turks in all but the Suls writing. Of late years, the Pashas of Cairo have employed a gentleman from Khorasan, whose travelling name is ‘‘ Mirza Sanglakh” to decorate their Mosques with inscriptions. I was favoured with a specimen of his art, and do not hesitate to rank him the first of his age, and second to none amongst the ancients but those Raphaels of calligraphy, Mir of Shir4z, and Rahman of Herdt. The Egyptians and Arabs, generally speaking, write a coarse and clumsy hand, and, as usual in the East, the higher the rank of the writer is, the worse his scrawl becomes. 1 The popular volumes are, 1. Al-Amsilah, showing the simple conjugation of the triliteral verb; 2. Bisi’a, the work of some un- known author, explaining the formation of the verb into increased infinities, the quadrilateral verb, &c.; 3. The Maksa’a, a well-known book written by the great Imam Abu’ Hanifah; 4. The ‘Izzi,” an explanatory treatise, the work of a Turk, ‘Izzat Effendi.” And lastly, the Marah of Ahmad al-Sa'fidi. These five tracts are bound together in a little volume, printed at the government establishment. Al-Amsilah is explained in Turkish, to teach boys the art of ‘ parsing”; Egyptians generally confine themselves in Al-Sarf to the Izzi, and the Lamiyat al-Af’4l of-the grammarian Ibn Malik. 2 First, the well-known ‘' Ajrumiyah " (printed by M. Vaucelle), and its commentary, Al-Kafrawi. Thirdly, the Alfiyah (Thousand | Distichs) of Ibn Malik, written in verse for mnemonic purposes, but | thereby rendered so difficult as to require the lengthy commentary | of Al-Ashmimi. The fifth is the well-known work called the Katr | al-Nid4 (the Dew Drop), celebrated from Cairo to Kabul; and last of all the ‘ Azhari.” =| VI.—The Mosque. 105 Master of grammar, our student now applies himself to its proper end and purpose, Divinity. Of the four. schools those of Abu Hanifah and Al-Shafe’i are most common in Cairo; the followers of Ibn Malik abound only in Southern Egypt and the Berberah country, and the -Hanbali is almost unknown. The theologian begins with what is called a Matn or text, a short, dry, and often ob- scure treatise, a mere string of precepts; in fact, the skeleton of the subject. This he learns by repeated per- usal, till he can quote almost every passage litevatim. He then passes to its Sharh,” or commentary, generally the work of some other savant, who explains the difficulty of the text, amplifies its Laconicisms, enters into exceptional cases, and deals with principles and reasons, as well as with mere precept. A difficult work will sometimes re- quire ‘‘ Hashiyah,” or ‘‘ marginal notes”; but this aid has a bad name :— * Who readeth with note, But learneth by rote,” says a popular dogerel. The reason is, that the student’s _ reasoning powers being little exercised, he learns to depend upon the dixit of a master rather than to think for himself. It also leads to the neglect of another practice, highly advocated by the Eastern pedagogue. “ The lecture is one. be The dispute (upon the subject of the lecture) is one thousand.” In order to become a Fakih, or. divine of distinguished fame, the follower of Abu Hanifah must peruse about ten volumes,’ some of huge size, written in a diffuse style; 1 I know little of the Hanafi school; but the name of the fol- lowing popular works were given to me by men upon whose learning Icoulddepend. The book first read is the text, called Marah al-Falah, containing about twenty pages, and its commentary, which is about six times longer. Then comes the Matn al-Kanz, a brief text of from 35 to 40 pages, followed by three long Sharh. The shortest of these, “‘Al-Tai,”’ contains 500 pages; the next, ‘‘Mull4 Miskin,” at least goo; and the ‘Sharh Ayni’” nearly 2000. To these succeeds the Text 106 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. the Shafe’i’s reading is not quite so extensive.’ Theo- logy is much studied, because it leads directly to the gain- ing of daily bread, as priest or tutor; and other scientific pursuits are neglected for the opposite reason. The theologian in Egypt, as in other parts of Al- Islam, must have a superficial knowledge of the Prophet’s traditions. Of these there are eight well known collec- tions,” but only the first three are generally read. School-boys are instructed, almost when in their infancy, to intone the Koran; at the university they are « Al-Durar,” the work of the celebrated Khusraw, (200 pages), with a large commentary by the same author ; and last is the Matn Tanwir Al-Abs4r, containing about 500 pages, and its Sharh, a work upwards of four times the size. Manyof these books may be found—especially ‘ when the MS. is an old one—with Hashiyah, or marginal notes, but most men write them for themselves, so that there is no generally used collection. "The above-mentioned are the works containing a full course of theological study; it is rare, however, to find a man who reads beyond the ‘* Al-Kanz,”’ with the shortest of its commentaries, the ‘ Al-Tai.” 1 He begins with a little text BA Fecy after the name of its author, Abu Shuja’a of Isfahan, and proceeds to its commentary, a book of about 250 pages, by Ibn Kasim of Ghazzah (Gaza). There is another Sharh, nearly four times larger than this, ‘‘ Al-Khatib ’’; it is seldom. read. Then comes Al-Tahrir, the work of Zakariya al-Ansdri,—a celebrated divine buried in the Mosque of Al-Shafe’i,—and its com- mentary by the same author, a goodly MS. of 600 pages. Most ' students here cry: ‘‘Enough!"’ The ambitious pass on to AI- Minhaj and its commentary, (1600 pages). Nor need they stop at this point. A man may addle his brains over Moslem theology, as upon Aristotle’s schoolmen, till his eyesight fails eee ar Se: subjects are all but interminable. 2 The three best known are the Arbain al-Nawawi, and the -Sahihayn—*‘ the two (universally acknowledged to be) trustworthy,""— Al-Muslim and Al-Bokhéri, celebrated divines. The others are -Al-Jami’ al-Saghir, ‘‘ the smaller collection,” so called to distinguish it from a rarer book, Al-Jami al-Kabir, the ‘‘ greater collection” ; both are the work of Al-Siyati. The full course concludes with Al-Shif4, Shamil, and the labours of Kazi Ayydz. VI.—The Mosque. to” taught a more exact system of chanting. The style called ‘* Hafs” is most common in Egypt, as it is indeed throughout the Moslem world. And after learning to read the holy volume, some savans are ambitious enough to wish to understand it: under these circumstances they must dive into the ’Ilm al-Tafsir,’ or the Exegesis of the Koran. Our student is now a perfect Fakih or Mulla.2 But = 1 Two Tafsirs are known ali over the modern world. The smaller one is called Jalalani (‘ the two Jalals,” i.e. the joint work of Jalal al-Siyuti and Jalal al-Mahalli), and fills two stout volumes octavo. The larger is the Exposition of Al-Bayzdwi, which is sup- posed to contain the whole subject. Some few divines read Al- Khazin. 2 To conclude the list of Moslem studies, not purely religious. Al-Mantik (or logic) is little valued; it is read when judged ad- visable, after Al-Nahw, from which it flows, and before Ma’ani Bayan (rhetoric) to which it leads. In Egypt, students are generally directed to fortify their memories, and give themselves a logical turn of mind, by application to Al-Jabr (algebra). The only logical works known are the Isaghiji (the cicaydéyy of Porphyry), Al-Shamsiyah, the book Al-Sullam, with its Sharh Al-Akhzari, and, lastly, Kazi Mir, Equally neglected are the Tawdarikh (history) and the Hikmat (or philosophy), once so ardently cultivated by Moslem savans; indeed, it is now all but impossible to get books upon these subjects. For upwards of six weeks, I ransacked the stalls and the bazar, in order to find some one of the multitudinous annals of Al-Hijaz, without seeing for sale anything but the fourth volume of a large bio- graphical work called al-Akd al-Samin fi Tarikh al-Balad al-Amin. The 'Ilm al-’Araz, or Prosody, is not among the Arabs, as with us, a chapter hung on to the tail of grammar. It is a long and difficult study, prosecuted only by those who wish to distinguish themselves in ‘'‘ Arabiyat,’’"—the poetry and the eloquence of the ancient and modern Arabs. The poems generally studied, with the aid of commentaries, which impress every verse upon the memory, are the Bardah and the Hamziyah, well-known odes by Mohammed of Abiasir. They abound in obsolete words, and are useful at funerals, as on other solemn occasions. The Banat Su’ddi, by Ka’ab al-Ahbar (or Akhbar), a companion of the Apostle, and the Diwan ’Umar ibn F4riz, a celebrated mystic, are also learned compositions. Few attempt the bulky volume of Al-Mutanabbi—though many t08 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. the poor fellow has no scholarship or fellowship—no easy tutorship—no fat living to look forward to. After wasting. ees place it open upon the sofa,—fewer still the tenebrous compositions of Al-Hariri; nor do the modern Egyptians admire those fragments of ancient Arab poets, which seem so sweetly simple to the Européan ear. The change of faith has altered the national taste to such an extent, that the decent bard must now sing of woman in the mascu- line gender. For which reason, a host of modern poetasters can attract the public ear, which is deaf to the voices of the ‘‘ Golden Song.” In the exact sciences, the Egyptian Moslems, a backward race according to European estimation, are far superior to the Persians and the Moslems of India. Some of them become tolerable arith- meticians, though very inferior to the Coptic Christians; they have good and simple treatises on algebra, and still display some of their ancestors’ facility in the acquisition of geometry. The 'Ilm al- Mikét, or ‘‘ Calendar-calculating,’’ was at one time publicly taught in the Azhar; the printing-press has doomed that study to death. The natural sciences find but scant favour on the banks of the Nile. Astronomy is still astrology, geography a heap of names, and natural history a mass of fables. Alchemy, geomancy, and sum- moning of fiends, are pet pursuits; but the former has so bad a name, that even amongst friends it is always alluded to as,’Ilm al-Kaf,—the “science of K," so called from the initial letter of the word ‘‘Kimiya.” Of the state of therapeutics I have already treated at length. Aided by the finest of ears, and flexible organs of articulation, the Egyptian appears to possess many of the elements of a good linguist. The stranger wonders to hear a Cairene donkey-boy shouting sentences in three or four European dialects, with a pro- nunciation as pure as his own. How far this people succeed in higher branches of language, my scanty experience does not enable me to determine. But even for students of Arabic, nothing can be more imperfect than those useful implements, Vocabularies and Dic- tionaries. The Cairenes have, it is true, the Kamits of Fayrazdbadi, but it has never been printedin Egypt; it is therefore rare, and when found, lost pages and clerical errors combined with the intrinsic diffi- culty of the style, exemplify the saying of Golius, that the most learned Orientalist must act the part of a diviner, before he can perform that of interpreter. They have another Lexicon, the Sihah, and an abbreviation of the same, the Sihah al-Saghir (or the lesser), both of them liable to the same objections as the Kamus. For the benefit of the numerous students of Turkish and Persian, short grammars VI.—The Mosque. 109 seven years, or twice seven years, over his studies, and reading till his brain is dizzy, his digestion gone, and his eyes half blind, he must either starve upon college alms, or squat, like my old Shaykh Mohammed, in a druggist’s shop, or become pedagogue and preacher in some country place, on the pay of £8 per annum. With such prospects it is wonderful how the Azhar can present any attrac- tions; but the southern man is essentially an idler, and many become Olemé, like Capuchins, in order to do no- thing. A favoured few rise to the degree of Mudarris (professors), and thence emerge Kazis and Muftis. This is another inducement tomatriculate; every undergraduate having an eye upon the Kazi-ship, with as much chance of obtaining it as the country pavocco has of becoming a cardinal. Others again devote themselves to laical pur- suits, degenerate into Wakils (lawyers), or seek their for- tunes as Katibs—public or private accountants. To conclude this part of the subject, I cannot agree with Dr. Bowring when he harshly says, upon the subject of Moslem education: ‘The instruction given by the Doctors of the Law in the religious schools, for the forma- tion of the Mohammedan priesthood, is of the most worthless character.”* His opinion is equally open toa and vocabularies have been printed at a cheap price, but the former are upon the model of Arabic, a language essentially different in formation, and the latter are mere strings of words. As a specimen of the state of periodical literature, I may quote the history of the ‘‘ Bulak Independent,” as Europeans facetiously call it. When Mohammed Ali, determining to have an “ organ,” directed an officer to be editor of a weekly paper, the officer replied, that no one would read it, and consequently that no one would pay for it. The Pasha remedied this by an order that a subscription should be struck off from the pay of all employés, European and Egyptian, whose salary amounted to a certain sum. “ Upun which the editor accepted the task, but being paid before his work was published, he of course never supplied his subscribers. with their copies. 1 Would not a superficial, hasty, and somewhat prejudiced 110 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. objection with that of those who depreciate the law itself - because it deals rather in precepts than in principle, in ceremonies and ordinances rather than in ethics and esthetics. Both are what Eastern faiths and Eastern training have ever been,—both are eminently adapted for the Oriental mind. When the people learn to appreciate ethics, and to understand psychics and esthetics, the demand will create a supply. Meanwhile they leave transcendentalism to their poets and philosophers, and they busy themselves with preparing for heaven by practising the only part of their faith now intelligible to them—the Material. It is not to be supposed that a nation in this stage of civilisation could be so fervently devout as the Egyptians are, without the bad leaven of bigotry. The same tongue which is employed in blessing Allah, is, it is conceived, doing its work equally well in cursing Allah’s enemies. Wherefore the Kafir is denounced by every sex, age, class, and condition, by the man of the world,’ as by the boy at school; and out of, as well as in, the Mosque. If you ask your friend who is the person with a black tur- band, he replies, ‘A Christian. Allah make his Countenance cold !” If you inquire of your servant, who are the people singing in the next house, it is ten to one that his answer will be, “Jews. May their lot be Jahannam!” It appears unintelligible, still it is not less true, that Egyptians who have lived as servants under European roofs for FORE retain the liveliest loathing for the manners Egyptian or Persian say exactly the same thing about the “zeicus of Christ Church and Trinity College ? 1 And when the man of the world, as sometimes happens, pro- fesses to see no difference in the forms of faith, or whispers that his residence in Europe has made him friendly to the Christian religion, you will be justified in concluding his opinions to be latitudinarian. VI.—The Mosque. Ill and customs of their masters. Few Franks, save those who have mixed with the Egyptians in Oriental disguise, are aware of their repugnance to, and contempt for, Europeans—so well is the feeling veiled under the garb of innate politeness, and so great is their reserve when con- versing with those of strange religions. I had a good opportunity of ascertaining the truth when the first rumour of a Russian war arose. Almost every able-bodied man spoke of hastening to the Jihad,—a crusade, or holy war,— and the only thing that looked like apprehension was the too eager depreciation of their foes. All seemed delighted with the idea of French co-operation, for, somehow or other, the Frenchman is everywhere popular. When speaking of England, they were not equally easy: heads were rolled, pious sentences were ejaculated, and finally out came the old Eastern cry, ‘Of atruth they are Shaytans, those English.”’ The Austrians are despised, because the East knows nothing of them since the days when Os- manli hosts threatened the gates of Vienna. The Greeks are-hated as clever scoundrels, ever ready to do Al-Islam . a mischief. The Maltese, the greatest of cowards off their own ground, are regarded with a profound contempt: these are the protégés which bring the British nation into disrepute at Cairo. And Italians are known chiefly as ‘‘istvuttovi” and ‘‘distvuttori”*—doctors, druggists, and pedagogues. Yet Egyptian human nature is, like human nature everywhere, contradictory. Hating and despising Euro- peans, they still long for European rule. This people ad- 1 Lknow only one class in Egypt favourable to the English,—the donkey boys,—and they found our claim to the possession of the country upon a base scarcely admissible by those skilled in casuistry, namely, that we hire more asses than any other nation. 2 The story is, that Mohammed Ali used to offer his flocks Of _ foreigners their choice of two professions,‘ destruction,” that is to say, physic, or “ instruction.”’ “112 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. mire an iron-handed and lion-hearted despotism; they hate a timid and a grinding tyranny.’ Of all foreigners, they would prefer the French yoke,—a circumstance which I attribute to the diplomatic skill and national dignity of our neighbours across the Channel.? But whateyer European nation secures Egypt will win a treasure. Moated on the north and south by seas, with a glacis of impassable deserts to the eastward and westward, cap- able of supporting an army of 180,000 men, of paying a 1 Of this instances abound. Lately an order was issued to tax the villages of the Badawin settled upon the edge of the Western desert, who, even in Mohammed Ali’s time, were allowed to live free of assessment. The Aulad ’Ali, inhabitants of a little village near the Pyramids, refused to pay, and turned out with their matchlocks, defying the Pasha. The government then insisted upon their leaving their houses, and living under hair-cloth like Badawin, since they claimed the privileges of Badawin. The sturdy fellows at once pitched their tents, and when I returned to Cairo (in December, 1853), they had deserted their village. I could offer a score of such cases, proving the present debased condition of Egypt. 2 At Constantinople the French were the first to break through the shameful degradation to which the ambassadors of infidel powers were bribed, by 300 or 4oo rations a day, to submit. M. de Saint Priest refused to give up his sword. General Sebastianiinsisted upon wearing his military boots; and the Republican Aubert Dubajet rejected the dinner, and the rich dress, with which “ the naked and hungry barbarian who ventured to rub his brow upon the Sublime Porte,’ was fed and clothed before being admitted to the presence, saying that the ambassadors of France wanted neither this nor that. At Cairo, M. Sabatier, the French Consul-general, has had the merit of doing away with some customs prejudicial to the dignity of his nation. The next English envoy will, if anxious so to distinguish himself, have an excellent opportunity. It is usual, after the first audience, for the Pasha to send, in token of honour, a sorry steed to the new comer. This custom is a mere relic of the days when Mohammed the Second threatened to stable his charger in St. Peter’s, and when a ride through the streets of Cairo exposed the Inspector- general Tott, and his suite, to lapidation and an ‘“‘avanie.”’ Tosenda good horse is to imply degradation, but to offer a bad one is a pesi- tive insult. VI.—The Mosque. 113 heavy tribute, and yet able to show a considerable sur- plus of revenue, this country in western hands will com- mand India, and by a ship-canal between Pelusium and Suez would open the whole of Eastern Africa.’ There is no longer much to fear from the fanaticism of the people, and a little prudence would suffice to com- mand the interests of the Mosque.? The chiefs of corpora- tions,’ in the present state of popular feeling, would offer 1 As this canal has become a question of national interest, its advisability is surrounded with all the circumstance of unsupported assertion and bold denial. The English want a railroad, which would confine the use of Egypt to themselves. The French desire a canal that would admit the hardy cruisers of the Mediterranean into the Red Sea. The cosmopolite will hope that both projects may be carried out. Even in the seventh century Omar forbade Amru to cut the Isthmus of Suez for fear of opening Arabia to Christian vessels. As regards the feasibility of the ship-canal, I heard M. Linant de Bellefonds— the best authority upon all such subjects in Egypt—-ex- pressly assert, after levelling and surveying the line, that he should have no difficulty in making it. ‘The canal is now a fact. As late as April, 1864, Lord Palmerston informed the House of Commons that labourers might be more usefully employed in cultivating cotton than in ‘‘ digging a canal through a sandy desert, and in making two harbours in deep mud and shallow water.” It is, however, under- stood that the Premier was the only one of his Cabinet who took this view. Mr. Robert Stephenson, C.E., certainly regretted before his death the opinion which he had been induced to express by desire. 2 There are at present about eighteen influential Shaykhs at Cairo, too fanatic to listen to reason. These it would be necessary to banish. Good information about what goes on in each Mosque, espec- ially on Fridays, when the priests preach to the people, and a guard of honour placed at the gates of the Kazi, the three Muftis, and the Shaykh of the Azhar, are simple precautions sufficient to keep the -Olema in order. 3 These Rakaiz Al-’ Usab, as they are called, are the most influen- tial part of the immense mass of dark intrigue which Cairo, like most Oriental cities, conceals beneath the light surface. They gene- rally appear in the ostensible state of barbers and dyers. Secretly, they preside over their different factions, and form a kind of small 114 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. even less difficulty to an invader or a foreign ruler than the Olema. Briefly, Egypt is the most tempting prize which the East holds out to the ambition of Europe, not excepted even the Golden Horn. Vehm. ‘The French used to pay these men, but Napoleon, detecting them in stirring up the people, whilst appearing to maintain public tranquillity, shot eighteen or twenty (about half their number), and thereby improved the conduct of the rest. They are to be managed, as Sir Charles Napier governed Sind,—by keeping a watchful eye upon them, a free administration of military law, disarming the popu- lation, and forbidding large bodies of men to assemble. CHAR TiiCs, Vile PREPARATIONS TO QUIT CAIRO. At length the slow ‘month of blessings” passed away. We rejoiced like Romans finishing their Quar- esima, whena salvo of artillery from the citadel announced the end of our Lenten woes. On the last day of Ramazan all gave alms to the poor, at the rate of a piastre and a half for each member of the household—slave, servant, and master. The next day, first of the three composing the Bayram or Ge (the Lesser Festival), we arose before dawn, performed our ablutions, and repaired to the Mosque, to recite the peculiar prayer of the season, and to hear the sermon which bade us be “merry and wise.” After which we ate and drank heartily; then, with pipes and tobacco-pouches in hand, we sauntered out to enjoy the contemplation of smiling faces and street scenery. The favourite resort on this occasion is the large cemetery beyond the Bab al-Nasr*—that stern, old, massive gateway which opens upon the Suez road. There we found a scene of jollity. Tents and ambulant coffee-houses were full of men equipped in their—anglicé ‘I Festival. It lasts the three first days of ShawwéAl, the month immediately following Ramazan, and therefore, among Moslems, cor- responds with our Paschal holidays, which succeed Lent. It is called the ‘‘ Lesser Festival,” the ‘Greater’ being in Zi’l Hijjah, the pilgrimage-month. 2 In Chap. V. of this Volume, I have mentioned this cemetery as Burckhardt’s last resting-place. 116 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. —'¢Sunday best,” listening to singers and musicians, smoking, chatting, and looking at jugglers, buffoons, snake-charmers, Dar way sles, ape-leaders, and dancing boys habited in women’s attire. Eating-stalls and lolli- pop-shops, booths full of playthings, and sheds | for lemonade and syrups, lined the roads, and disputed with swings and merry-go-rounds the regards of the little Moslems and Moslemahs. ‘The chief item of the crowd, fair Cairenes, carried in their hands huge palm branches, intending to ornament therewith the tombs of parents and friends. Yet, even on this solemn occasion, there is, they say, not a little flirtation and love-making; parties of policemen are posted, with orders to interrupt all such irregularities, with a long cane; but their vigilance is notoriously unequal to the task. I could not help ob- serving that frequent pairs, doubtless cousins or other relations, wandered to unusual distances among the sand-hills, and that sometimes the confusion of a dis- tant bastinado struck the ear. These trifles did not, however, by any means interfere with the general joy. Every one wore something new; most people were in the fresh suits of finery intended to last through the year; and so strong is personal vanity in the breasts of Orientals, men and women, young and old, that from Cairo to Calcutta it would be difficult to find a sad heart undera handsome coat. The men swaggered, the women minced their steps, rolled their eyes, and were eternally arranging, and coquetting with their head-veils. The little boys strutting about foully abused any one of their number who might have a richer suit than his neigh- bours. And the little girls ogled every one in the ecstacy of conceit, and glanced contemptuously at other little girls their rivals. Weary of the country, the Haji and I wandered about the city, paying visits, which at this time are like new- year calls in continental Europe. 1 can describe the. VII.—Preparations to Quit Cairo. 117 operation of calling in Egypt only as the discussion of pipes and coffee in one place, and of coffee and pipes in another. But on this occasion, whenever we meet a friend we throw ourselves upon each other’s breast, placing right arms over left shoulders, and vice versd, squeezing like wrestlers, with intermittent hugs, then laying cheek to cheek delicately, at the same time making the loud noise of many kisses in the air.) Thé com- pliment of the season is, ‘‘ Kull’4m antum bil khayr” —‘‘ Every year may you be well! ”’—in fact, our ‘‘ Many ‘happy returns of the day!” After this come abundant good wishes, and kindly prophecies ; and froma “ religious person”’ a blessing, and a short prayer. To complete the resemblance between a Moslem and a Christian festival, we have dishes of the day, fish, Shurayk, the cross-bun, and a peculiarly indigestible cake, called in Egypt Kahk,? the plum-pudding of Al-Islam. This year’s Id was made gloomy, comparatively speak- ing, by the state of politics. Report of war with Russia, with France, with England, who was going to land ‘three million men at Suez, and with Infideldom in general, rang through Egypt, and the city of Mars® became un- usually martial. The government armouries, arsenals, and manufactories, were crowded with kidnapped work- men. ‘Those who purposed a pilgrimage feared forcible detention. Wherever men gathered together, in the Mosques, for instance, or the coffee-houses, the police r You are bound also to meet even your enemies in the most friendly way—for which mortification you afterwards hate them more cordially than before. 2 Persian. 3 With due deference to the many of a different opinion, I believe “ Kdhirah"’ (corrupted through the Italian into Cairo) to mean, not the ‘‘victorious,’”’ but the ‘‘City of Kahir,’’ ur Mars the Planet. It was so called because, as Richardson has informed the world, it was founded in AD. 968 by one jauhar, a Dalmatian renegade before mentioned, when the warlike planet was in the ascendant. 118 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. | closed the doors, and made forcible capture of the able- | bodied. This proceeding, almost as barbarous as our impressment law, filled the main streets with detach- | ments of squalid-looking wretches, marching to be made soldiers, with collars round their necks and irons on their wrists. The dismal impression of the scene was deepened by crowds of women, who, habited in mourning, and scat- tering dust and mud over their rent garments, followed their sons, brothers, and husbands, with cries and shrieks. The death-wail is a peculiar way of cheering on the patriot departing pyo patvid mov, and the origin of the custom is characteristic of the people. The principal | public amusements allowed to Oriental women are those | that come under the general name of ‘ Fantasia,”— | birth-feasts, marriage festivals, and funerals. And the | early campaigns of Mohammed Ali’s family in Syria, | and Al-Hijaz having, in many cases, deprived the be- | reaved of their sex-right to “‘ keen” for the dead, they have now determined not to waste the opportunity, but to | revel in the luxury of woe at the live man’s wake.’ Another cloud hung, over Cairo. Rumours of con- | spiracy were afloat. The Jews and Christians,—here as | ready to take alarm as the English in Italy,—trembled at | the fancied preparations for insurrection, massacre, and | plunder. And even the Moslems whispered that some | hundred desperadoes had resolved to fire the city, be- | ginning with the bankers’ quarter, and to spoil the wealthy | Egyptians. Of course H.H. Abbas Pasha was absent | at the time, and, even had he been at Cairo, his presence would have been of little use: the ruler can do nothing cS 1 ‘‘ There were no weeping women; no neighbours came in to sit | down in the ashes, as they might have done had the soldier died at home; there was nd Nubian dance for the dead, no Egyptian song of the women lauding the memory of the deceased, and beseeching him to tell why he had left them alone in the world to weep.''—(Letier from Widdin, March 25, 1854, describing a Turkish soldier's funeral.) VII.—Preparations to Quit Catro. 119 towards restoring confidence to a panic-stricken Oriental nation. At the end of the [d, as a counter-irritant to political excitement, the police magistrates began to bully the people. ‘There is a standing order in the chief cities of Egypt, that all who stir abroad after dark without a lantern shall pass the night in the station-house.’ But at Cairo, in certain quarters, the Azbakiyah? for instance, a little laxity is usually allowed. Before I left the capital the licence was withdrawn, and the sudden strictness caused many ludicrous scenes. If by chance you (clad in Oriental garb) had sent on your lantern to a friend’s house by your servant, and had leisurely followed it five minutes after the hour of eight, you were sure to be met, stopped, collared, questioned, and captured by the patrol. You probably punched three or four of them, but found the dozen too strong for you. Held tightly by the sleeves, skirts, and collar of your wide outer garment, you were hurried away on a plane of about nine inches above the ground, your feet mostly treading the air. You were dragged along with a rapidity which scarcely permitted you to answer strings of ques- tions concerning your name, nation, dwelling, faith, pro- fession, and self in general,—especially concerning the present state of your purse. If you lent an ear to the -voice of the charmer that began by asking a crown to release you, and gradually came down to two-pence half- _ penny, you fell into a simple trap; the butt-end of a musket applied a posteviori, immediately after the transfer of property, convicted you of wilful waste. But if, more ‘sensibly, you pretended to have forgotten your purse, you 1 Captain Haines wisely introduced the custom into ‘Aden. T wonder that it is not made universal in the cities of India, where so much iniquity is perpetrated under the shadow of night. 2 Thereasom being that respectable Europeans, and the passengers by the Overland Mail, jive and lodge in this quarter. 120 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. were reviled, and dragged with increased violence of shaking to the office of the Zabit, or police magistrate. You were spun through the large archway leading to the court, every fellow in uniform giving you, as you passed, a Kafa, “cuff,” on the back of the neck. Despite your rage, you were forced up the stairs to a long gallery full of people in a predicament like your own. Again your name, na- tion,—I suppose you to be masquerading,—offence, and other particulars were asked, and carefully noted in a folio by a ferocious-looking clerk. If you knew.no better, you were summarily thrust into the Hasil or condemned cell, to pass the night with pickpockets or ruffians, pell-mell. But if an adept in such matters, you insisted upon being conducted before the ‘“‘ Pasha of the Night,” and, the clerk fearing to refuse, you were hurried to the great man’s office, hoping for justice, and dealing out ideal vengeance to your captors,—the patrol. Here you found the dignitary sitting with pen, ink, and paper before him, and pipe and coffee-cup in hand,.upon a wide Diwan of dingy chintz, in a large dimly-lit room, with two guards by his side, and a semi-circle of recent seizures vocif- erating before him. When your turn came, you were carefully collared, and led up to,the presence, as if even at that awful moment you were mutinously and murder- ously disposed. The Pasha, looking at you with a vicious sneer, turned up his nose, ejaculated ‘*’Ajami,” and pre-. scribed the bastinado. You observed that the mere fact of being a Persian did not give mankind a right to cap- ture, imprison, and punish you; you declared moreover that you were no Persian, but an Indian under British protection. The Pasha, a man accustomed to obedience, then stared at you, to frighten you, and you, we will suppose, stared at him, till, with an oath, he turned to the patrol, and asked them your offence. They all simul- taneously swore—-by Allah!—that you had been found without a lantern, dead-drunk, beating respectable people, VII.—Preparations to Quit Cairo. 121 breaking into houses, invading and robbing harims, You openly told the Pasha that they were eating abomina- tions; upon which he directed one of his guards to smell your breath,—the charge of drunkenness being tangible. The fellow, a comrade of your capturers, advanced his nose to your lips; as might be expected, cried ‘ Kikh,” contorted his countenance, and answered, by the beard of ‘“‘ Effendina'” that he perceived a pestilent odour of distilled waters. This announcement probably elicited a grim grin from the ‘“ Pasha of the Night,” who loves Curacoa, and who is not indifferent to the charms of Cognac. Then by his favour, for you improved the occa- sion, you were allowed to spend the hours of darkness on a wooden bench, in the adjacent long gallery, together with certain little parasites, for which polite language has no name.’ In the morning the janissary of your Consulate was sent for: he came, and claimed you; you were led off criminally; again you gave your name and address, and if your offence was merely sending on your lantern, you were dismissed with advice to be more careful in future. And assuredly your first step was towards the Hammam. | But if, on the other hand, you had declared yourself a European, you would either have been dismissed at once, or sent to your Consul, who is here judge, jury, and jailor. Egyptian authority has of late years lost half its prestige. When Mr. Lane first settled at Cairo, all Europeans accused of aggression against Moslems were, he tells us, surrendered to the Turkish magistrates. Now, the native powers have no jurisdiction over strangers, rt ‘Our lord,” i.e. H.H. the Pasha. ‘ Kikh”’ is an interjection noting disapproval, or disgust,—"' Fie!’ or ‘‘Ugh!” 2 Shortly after the Ramazan of 1853, the Consul, I am told, obtained an order that British subjects should be sent directly from the police office, at all hours of the night, tothe Consulate. This was a most sensible measure. 122 Pilevimage to Al-Madinah and Meceah. nor can the police enter their houses. If the West would | raise the character of its Eastern co-religionists, it will be forced to push the system a point further, and to allow | all bond-fide Christian subjects to register their names at the different Consulates whose protection they might prefer. This is what Russia has so “ unwarrantably and outrageously’ attempted. We confine ourselves to a lesser injustice, which deprives Eastern states of their right as independent Powers to arrest, and to judge foreigners, who for interest or convenience settle in taeir dominions. But we still shudder at the right of arrogating any such claim over the born lieges of Oriental Powers. What, however, would be the result were Great Britain to authorise her sons resident at Paris, or Florence, to refuse attendance at a French or an Italian court of justice, and to demand that the police should never force the doors of an English subject? 1 commend this consideration to all those who ‘stickle for abstract rights” when the interest and progress of others are concerned, and who become somewhat latitudinarian and concrete in cases where their own welfare and aggrandisement are at stake. Besides patients, | made some pleasant acquaint- ances at Cairo. Antun Zananire, a young Syrian of considerable attainments as a linguist, paid me the com- pliment. of permitting me to see the fair face of his ‘Harim.” Mr. Hatchadur Nury, an Armenian gentle- man, well known in Bombay, amongst other acts of kind- ness, introduced me to one of his compatriots, Khwajah Yusuf, whose advice was most usefultome. The Khwajah had wandered far and wide, picking up everywhere some scrap of strange knowledge, and his history was a romance. Expelled from Cairo for a youthful peccadillo, he started upon his travels, qualified himself for sanctity at Meccah and Al-Madinah, became a religious beggar at Baghdad, studied French at Paris, and finally settled | VII.—Preparations. to Quit Cairo. 123 down as a professor of languages,! under an amnesty, at Cairo. In his house I saw an Armenian marriage. The occasion was-memorable: after the gloom and same- ness of Moslem society, nothing could be more glad- dening than the unveiled face of a pretty woman.. Some of the guests were undeniably charming brunettes, with the blackest possible locks, and the brightest conceivable eyes. Only one pretty girl wore the national costume ;? yet they all smoked chibuks and sat upon the Diwans, and, as they entered the room, they kissed with a sweet simplicity the hands of the priest, and of the other old | gentlemen present. Among the number of my acquaintances was a Meccan boy, Mohammed al-Basytni, from whom | bought ‘the pilgrim-garb called ‘‘Al-Ihram”’ and the Kafan or shroud, with which the Moslem usually starts upon such ja journey as mine. He, being in his way homewards after a visit to Constantinople, was most anxious to accompany me in the character of a ‘‘companion.”’ But he had travelled too much to suit me; he had visited India, he had seen Englishmen, and he had lived with the *“ Nawab Bali” of Surat. Moreover, he showed signs of over-wisdom. He had been a regular visitor, till I cured one of his friends of an ophthalmia, after which x Most Eastern nations, owing to their fine ear for sounds, are quick at picking up languages; but the Armenian is here, what the Russian is in the West, the facile princeps of conversational linguists. I have frequently heard them speak with the purest accent, and admirable phraseology, besides their mother tongue, Turkish, Arabic, Persian, and Hindustani, nor do they evince less aptitude for acquiring the Occidental languages. | 2 It has been too frequently treated of, to leave room for a fresh description Though pretty and picturesque, it is open to the re- proach of Moslem dressing, namely, that the in-door toilette admits of a display of bust, and is generally so scanty and flimsy that it is unfit .o meet the. eye-of a stranger This, probably the effect of geciuding women, has now become a cause for concealing them. 124 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. he gave me his address at Meccah, and was seen no more. Haji Wali described him and his party to be ‘Nas jarrar” (extractors), and certainly he had not misjudged them. But the sequel will prove how dey Mensch -denkt und Gott lenkt; and as the boy, Mo- hammed, eventually did become my companion throughout the Pilgrimage, I will place him before the reader as summarily as possible. He is a beardless youth, of about eighteen, choco- late-brown, with high features, and a bold profile; his bony and decided Meccan cast of face is lit up by the peculiar Egyptian eye, which seems to descend from generation to generation.. His figure is short and broad, with a tendency to be obese, the result of a strong stomach and the power of sleeping at discretion. He can read a little, write his name, and is uncommonly clever at a bargain. Meccah had taught him to speak excellent Arabic, to understand the literary dialect, to be eloquent in abuse, and to be profound at Prayer and Pilgrimage. Constantinople had given him a taste for| Anacreontic singing, and female society of the question- able kind, a love of strong waters,—the hypocrite looked positively scandalised when I first suggested the subject, ——and an off-hand latitudinarian mode of dealing with serious subjects in general. I found him to be the youngest son of a widow, whose doting fondness had moulded his disposition; he was selfish gaa affectionate, as spoiled children usually are, volatile, easily offended and as easily pacified (the Oriental), coveting other men’s goods, and profuse of his own (the Arab), with a match- less intrepidity of countenance (the traveller), brazen lunged, not more than half brave, exceedingly astute, with an acute sense of honour, especially where his I He was. erdm the. Danks of the Nile, as his cognomen, al- Basyuni proves, but his family, f was told, had been settled for threg or four generations at Meccah. VII.—Preparattons to Quit Cairo. 125 relations were concerned (the individual), I have seen him in a fit of fury because some one cursed his father; and he and I nearly parted because on one oc- casion I applied to him an epithet which, etymologically ‘considered, might be exceedingly insulting to a high- minded brother, but which in popular parlance signifies nothing. This ‘ pormt d’honneuy”’ was the boy Mohammed’s strong point. During the Ramazan I laid in my stores for the journey. These consisted of tea, coffee, loaf-sugar, rice, dates, biscuit, oil, vinegar, tobacco, lanterns, and cooking pots, a small bell-shaped tent, costing twelve shillings, and three water-skins for the Desert.!. The provisions were placed in a “ Kafas”’ or hamper artistically made of palm sticks, and in a huge Sahhdarah, or wooden box, about three feet each way, covered with leather or skin, and provided with a small lid fitting into the top.2. The 1 Almost all the articles of food were so far useful, that they served every one of the party at least as much as they did their owner. My friends drank my coffee, smoked my tobacco, and ate my rice. I bought better tea at Meccah than at Cairo, and found as good sugar there. It would have been wiser to lay in a small stock merely for the voyage to Yambu’, in which case there might have been more economy. But I followed the advice of those interested in setting me wrong. Turks and Egyptians always go pilgrimaging with a large outfit, as notably as the East-Indian cadet of the present day, and your outfitter at Cairo, as well as Cornhill, is sure to supply you with a variety of superfluities. The tent was useful to me; so were the water-skins, which I preferred to barrels, as being more portable, and less liable to leak. Good skins cost about a dollar each; they should be bought new, and always kept half full of water. 2, This shape secures the lid, which otherwise, on account of the weight of the box, would infallibly be torn off, or burst open. Like _ the Kafas, the Sahharah should be well padlocked, and if the owner be a saving man, he does not entrust his keys toaservant. I gave away my Kafas at Yambu’, because it had been crushed during the sea-voyage, and I was obliged to leave the Sahharah at Al-Madinah, as my Badawi camel-shaykh positively refused to carry it to Meccah, ‘go that both these articles were well nigh useless ‘to me. The Kafas 126 Pilgviniage to Al-Madinak and Meccah, former, together with my green box containing medicines, and saddle-bags full of clothes, hung on one side of the camel, a counterpoise to the big Sahharah on the other flank ; the Badawin, like muleteers, always requiring a balance of weight. On the top of the load was placed trans- versely a Shibriyah or cot, on which Shaykh Nur squatted like a large crow. This worthy had strutted out into the streets armed with a pair of horse-pistols and a sword almost as long as himself. No sooner did the mischievous boys of Cairo—they are as bad as the gamins of Paris and London—catch sight of him than they began to scream with laughter at the sight of the “ Hindi (Indian) in arms,” till, like a vagrant owl pursued by a flight of larks, he ran back into the Caravanserai. Having spent all my ready money at Cairo, I was obliged to renew the supply. My native acquaintances advised me to take at least eighty. pounds sterling, and considering the expense of outfit for Desert travelling, the sum did not appear excessive. I should have found some difficulty in raising the money had it not been for the kindness of a friend at Alexandria, John Thurburn, now, I regret to say, no more, and Mr. Sam Shepheard, then of Shepheard’s Hotel, Cairo, presently a landed proprietor near Rugby, and now also gone. My Indians scrutinised the diminutive square of paper! — the cost four shillings, and the Sahharah about twelve. When these large boxes are really strong and good, they are worth about a pound ster- ling each. 1 At my final interview with the committee of the Royal Geo- graphical Society, one member, Sir Woodbine Parish, advised an order to be made out on the Society’s bankers; another, Sir Roderick Murchison, kindly offered to give me one on his own, Coutts & Co. : but I, having more experience in Oriental travelling, begged only to be furnished with a diminutive piece of paper, permitting me to draw upon the Society. It was at once given by Dr. Shaw, the Secretary, and it proved of much use eventually, It was purposely made as small as possible, in order to fit into a talisman case. But the traveller must VII.—Preparations to Quit Cairo. 127 letter of credit—as a raven may sometimes be seen peering, with head askance, into the interior of a suspected marrow-bone. ‘*Can this be a bond-fide draft?” they mentally inquired. And finally they offered, politely, to write to England for me, to draw the money, and to for- ward it in a sealed bag directed ‘‘ Al-Madinah.” I need scarcely say that such a style of transmission would, in the case of precious metals, have left no possible chance of its safe arrival. When the difficulty was overcome, I _ bougnt fifty pounds’ worth of German dollars (Maria _ Theresas), and invested the rest in English and Turkish _ sovereigns... The gold I myself carried; part of the silver I sewed up in Shaykh Nur’s leather waistbelt, and part was packed in the boxes, for this reason,—when Badawin begin plundering a respectable man, if they find a certain amount of ready money in his baggage, they do not search his person. If they find none they proceed to a bodily inspection, and if his waist-belt be empty they are rather disposed to rip open his stomach, in the belief that he must have some peculiarly ingenious way of secreting valuables. Having passed through this trouble I immediately fell into another. My hardly- earned Alexandrian passport required a double visa, one at the Police office, the other at the Consul’s. After return- ing to Egypt, I found it was the practice of travellers bear in mind, that if his letters of credit be addressed to Orientals, the sheet of paper should always be large, and grand-looking. These people have no faith in notes,—commercial, epistolary, or diplomatic. 1 Before leaving Cairo, I bought English sovereigns for 112, and sold them in Arabia for 122 piastres. ‘‘ Aba Takahs,” (pataks, or Spanish pillar-dollars), as they are called in Al-Hijaz, cost me 24 piastres, and in the Holy City were worth 28. The “ Sinku” (French five franc piece) is bought for 22 piastres in Egypt, and sells at 24 in Arabia. The silver Majidi costs 20 at Cairo, and is worth 22 in the Red Sea, and finally I gained 3 piastres upon the gold “ Ghazi" of to. Such was the rate of exchange in 1853. It varies, however, perpetually, and in 1863 may be totally different. 128 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. who required any civility from Dr. Walne, then the Eng- lish official at Cairo, to enter the ‘“‘ Presence ”’ furnished with an order from the Foreign Office. I had neglected the precaution, and had ample reason to regret having done so. Failing at the British Consulate, and unwilling to leave Cairo without being “en végle,”"—the Egyptians warned me that Suez was a place of obstacles to pilgrims,'—I was obliged to look elsewhere for protection. My friend Haji Wali was the first consulted ; after a long discussion he offered to take me to his Consul, the Persian, and to find out for what sum | could become a temporary subject of the Shah. We went to the sign of the ‘‘ Lion and the Sun,” and we found the dragoman,’ a subtle Syrian Christian, who, 1 The reason of this will be explained in a future chapter. 2 The Consular dragoman is one of the greatest abuses I know. The tribe is, for the most part, Levantine and Christian, and its con- nections are extensive. The father will perhaps be interpreter to the English, the son to the French Consulate. By this means the most privy affairs will become known to every member of the depart- ment, except the head, and eventually to that best of spy-trainers, the Turkish government. This explains how a subordinate, whose pay is £200 per annum, and who spends double that sum, can afford, after twelve or thirteen years’ service, to purchase a house for £2,000 and tu furnish it for as much more. Besides which, the condition, the ideas, and the very nature of these dragomans are completely Oriental The most timid and cringing of men, they dare not take the proper tone with a government to which, in case of the expulsion of a Consul, they and their families would become subject. And their prepossessions are utterly Oriental. Hanna Massara, dragoman to the Consul-General at Cairo, in my presence and before others, advocated the secret murder of a Moslem girl who had fled with a Greek, on the grounds that an adulteress must always be put to death, either publicly ur under the rose. Yet this man is an ‘old: and tried servant ° of ine State. Such evils might be in part miti- gated by employing fngiish youths, of whom an ample supply, if there were any demand, would soon be forthcoming. This measure has been advocated by the best authorities, but without success. Most probably, the reason of the neglect is the diffculty how to begin, or where tu end, the Augeas labour of Consular reform. ' VII.—Preparations to Quit Cairo. " 129 after a rigid inquiry into the state of my purse (my country was no consideration at all‘), introduced me to the Great Man. I have described this personage once already, and he merits not a second notice. The inter- view was truly ludicrous. He treated us with exceed- ing hauteur, motioned me to sit almost out of hearing, and after rolling his head in profound silence for nearly a quarter of an hour, vouchsafed the information that though my father might be a Shirazi, and my mother an Afghan, he had not the honour of my acquaintance. His companion, a large old Persian with Polyphemean eyebrows and a mulberry beard, put some gruff and dis- couraging questions. I quoted the verses ‘“‘ He is a man who benefits his fellow men, Not he who says ‘why?’ and ‘ wherefore?’ and ‘ how much?’”’ upon which an imperious wave of the arm directed me to return to the dragoman, who had the effrontery to ask me four pounds sterling for a Persian passport. I offered one. He derided my offer, and I went away perplexed. On -my return to Cairo some months afterwards, he sent to say that had he known meas an Englishman, I should have had the document gratis,—a civility for which he was duly thanked. At last my Shaykh Mohammed hit upon the plan. “Thou art,” said he, ‘‘an Afghan; I will fetch hither the principal of the Afghan college at the Azhar, and he, if i Ina previous chapter I have alluded to the species of protec- tion formerly common in the East. Europe, it is to be feared, is not yet immaculate in this respect, and men say that were a list of protected’ ifurnished by the different Consulates at Cairo, it would be a curiot$document. As no one, Egyptian or foreigner, would, if -he could possibly help it, be subject to the Egyptian government, large sums might be raised by the simple process of naturalising strangers. At the Persian Consulate r1o dollars—the century for the Consul, and the decade for his dragoman—have been paid for pro- tection. A stern fact this for those who advocate the self-government of the childish East. RYOL. 1. : 130 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. thou make it worth his while,” (this in a whisper) ‘ will be thy friend.” The case was looking desperate; my preceptor was urged to lose no time. Presently Shaykh Mohammed returned in company | with the principal, a little, thin, ragged-bearded, one-eyed, hare-lipped divine, dressed in very dirty clothes, of non- descript cut. Born at Maskat of Afghan parents, and brought up at Meccah, he was a kind of cosmopolite, speaking five languages fluently, and full of reminiscences of toil and travel. He refused pipes and coffee, professing to be ascetically disposed: but he ate more than half my dinner, to reassure me, I presume, should I have been fearful that abstinence might injure his health. We then chatted in sundry tongues. I offered certain pre- sents of books, which were rejected (such articles being valueless), and the Shaykh Abd al-Wahhab having ex- pressed his satisfaction at my account of myself, told me to call for him at the Azhar Mosque next Morning. Accordingly at six p.m. Shaykh Mohammed and Abdullah Khan,'—the latter equipped in a gigantic sprigged-muslin turband, so as to pass for a student of theology,—repaired to Al-Azhar. Passing through the open quadrangle, we entered the large hall which forms the body of the Mosque. In the northern wall was adwarf door, leading by breakneck stairs to a pigeon-hole, the study of the learned Afghan Shaykh. We found him ensconced behind piles of musty and greasy manuscripts, surrounded by scholars and scribes, with whom he was cheapening books. He had not much business to trans- act; but long before he was ready, the stifling atmosphere - drove us out of the study, and we repaired to the hall. Presently the Shaykh joined us, and we all rode on to the citadel, and waited in a Mosque till the office hour | struck. When the doors were opened we went into the er 1 Khan is a title assumed in India and other countries by all Afghans, and Pathans, their descendants, simple as well as gentle. VII.—Prepavations to Quit Cairo, 131 ‘‘ Diwan,” and sat patiently till the Shaykh found an opportunity of putting ina word. The officials were two in number; one an old invalid, very thin and sickly- looking, dressed in the Turco-European style, whose hand _ was being severely kissed by a troop of religious beggars, to whom he had done some small favours ; the other was a stout young clerk, whose duty it was to engross, and not to have his hand kissed. My name and other essentials were required, and no objections were offered, for who holier than the Shaykh Abd al-Wahhab ibn Yinus al-Sulaymani? The clerk filled up a printed paper in the Turkish language, apparently borrowed from the European method for spoiling the traveller; certified me, upon the Shaylkh’s security, to be © one Abdullah, the son of Ydsuf (Joseph), originally from Kabul, described my person, and, in exchange for five piastres, handed me the document. I received it with joy. With bows, and benedictions, and many wishes that Allah might make it the officials’ fate to become pilgrims, we left the office, and returned towards Al-Azhar. When we had nearly reached the Mosque, Shaykh Mohammed lagged behind, and made the sign. I drew near the Afghan, and asked for his hand. He took the hint, and muttering, ‘It is no matter !”—“ It is not necessary !”— ‘¢ By Allah it is not required!” extended his fingers, and brought the “musculus guineorum” to bear upon three dollars. | Poor man! I believe it was his necessity that con- sented to be paid for the doing a common act of Moslem charity; he had a wife and children, and the calling of an - Alim? is no longer worth much in Egypt. My departure from Cairo was hastened by an acci- dent.. I lost my reputation by a little misfortune that happened in this wise. 1 A theologian, a learned man. 132 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. At Haji Wali’s room in the Caravanserai, I met a Yuzb4shi, or captain of Albanian Irregulars, who was in Egypt on leave from Al-Hijaz. He was a tall, bony, and broad-shouldered mountaineer, about forty years old, with the large bombé brow, the fierce eyes, thin lips, lean jaws, and peaky chin of his race. His musta- chios were enormously long and tapering, and the rest of his face, like his head, was close shaven. His Fustan* was none of the cleanest; nor was the red cap, which he wore rakishly pulled over his frowning forehead, quite free from stains. Not permitted to carry the favourite pistols, he contented himself with sticking his right hand in the empty belt, and stalking about the house with a most military mien. Yet he was as little of a bully as carpet knight, that same Ali Agha; his body showed many a grisly scar, and one of his shin bones had been broken by a Turkish bullet, when he was playing tricks on the Albanian hills,—an accident inducing a limp, which he attempted to conceal by a heavy swagger. When he spoke, his voice was affectedly gruff; he hada sad knack of sneering, and I never saw him thoroughly sober. Our acquaintance began with a kind of storm, which blew over, and left fine weather. I was showing Haji Wali my pistols with Damascene barrels when Ali Agha entered the room. He sat down before me with a grin, which said intelligibly enough, ‘‘ What business have you with weapons ?”—snatched the arm out of my hand, and began to inspect it as a connoisseur. Not admiring this procedure, I wrenched it away from him, and, addressing myself to Haji Wali, proceeded quietly with my disserta- tion. The captain of Irregulars and I then looked at each other. He cocked his cap on one side, in token of excited pugnacity. Itwirled my moustachios to display a kindred emotion. Had he been armed, and in Al-Hijaz, Ee nn er 1 The stiff, white, plaited kilt worn by Albanians. VII.—Prepavations to Quit Cairo. 133 we should have fought it out at once, for the Arnauts are “‘teyvibilt colla pistola,” as the Italians say, meaning that upon the least provocation they pull out a horse-pistol, ‘and fire it in the face of friend or foe. Of course, the only way under these circumstances is to anticipate them; but even this desperate prevention seldom saves a stranger, as whenever there is danger, these men go about in pairs. I never met with a more reckless brood. Upon the line of march Albanian troops are not allowed ammunition; for otherwise there would be half a dozen duels a day. When they quarrel over their cups, it is the fashion for each man to draw a pistol, and to place it against his opponent’s breast. The weapons being kept accurately clean, seldom miss fire, and if one combatant draw trigger before the other, he would immediately be shot down by the bystanders.’ In Egypt these men,— who are used as Irregulars, and are often quartered upon the hapless villagers, when unable or unwilling to pay taxes,—were the terror of the population. On many occasions they have quarrelled with foreigners, and in- sulted European women. In Al-Hijaz their recklessness -awes even the Badawin. The townspeople say of them that, ‘‘tripe-sellers, and bath-servants, at Stambul, they become Pharaohs (tyrants, ruffians,) in Arabia.” At Jeddah the Arnauts have amused themselves with firing at the English Consul, Mr. Ogilvie, when he walked upon his terrace. And this man-shooting appears a favourite sport with them: at Cairo numerous stories illustrate the sang froid with which they used to knock over the camel- drivers, if any one dared to ride past their barracks. The Albanians vaunt their skill in using weapons, and their pretensions impose upon Arabs as well as Egyptians; yet I have never found them wonderful with any arm 1 Those curious about the manners of these desperadoes may consult the pages of Giovanni Finati (Murray, London, 1830), and [ will be answerable that he exaggerates nothing. {34 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. (the pistol alone excepted); and our officers, who have visited their native hills, speak of them as tolerable but by no means first-rate rifle shots. | The captain of Irregulars being unhappily debarred the pleasure of shooting me, after looking fierce for a time, rose, and walked majestically out of the room. A day or two afterwards, he called upon me civilly enough, sat down, drank a cup of coffee, smoked a pipe, and began to converse. But as he knew about a hundred Arabic words, and I as many Turkish, our conversation was carried on under difficulties. Presently he asked me ina whisper for “*’Araki.”! I replied that there was none in the house, which induced a sneer and an ejaculation - sounding like ‘‘ Himar,”’ (ass,) the slang synonym amongst fast Moslems for water-drinker. After rising to depart, he seized me waggishly, with an eye to a trial of strength. Thinking that an Indian doctor and a temperance man would not be very dangerous, he exposed himself to what is professionally termed a ‘“ cross-buttock,” and had his “nut” come in contact with the stone floor instead of my bed, he might not have drunk for many a day. The fall had a good effect upon his temper. He jumped up, 1 Vulgarly Raki, the cognac of Egypt and Turkey. Generically the word means any spirit ; specifically, it is applied to that extracted from dates, or dried grapes. The latter is more expensive than the former, and costs from 5 to 7 piastres the bottle. It whitens the water like Eau de Cologne, and being considered a stomachic, is patronised by Europeans as much as by Asiatics. In the Azbakiyah gardens at Cairo, the traveller is astonished by perpetual “‘shouts"’ for ‘‘Sciroppo di gomma,” as if all the Western population was afflicted with sore throat. The reason is that spirituous liquors in a -Moslem land must not be sold in places of public resort; so the infidel asks for a ‘syrup of gum," and obtains a “dram” of ’Araki. The favourite way of drinking it, is to swallow it neat, aad to wash it down with a mouthful of cold water. Taken in this way it acts like the ‘petit verre d'absinthe.” Egyptian women {slight in it, and Eastern topers of all classes and sexes prefer it to trandy and cognac, the smell of which, betng strange, is offensive to thzm. V1II.—Prepavations to Quit Cairo. 135 patted my head, called for another pipe, and sat down to show me his wounds, and to boast of his exploits. I could not help remarking a ring of English gold, with a bezel of bloodstone, sitting strangely upon his coarse, - sun-stained hand. Hedeclared that it had been snatched by him from a Konsdl (Consul) at Jeddah, and he volubly related, in a mixture of Albanian, Turkish, and Arabic, the history of his acquisition. He begged me to supply him with a little poison that ‘* would not lie,” for the purpose of quieting a troublesome enemy, and he carefully stowed away in his pouch five grains of calomel, which I gave him for that laudable purpose. Before taking leave he pressed me strongly to go and drink with him; I refused to do so during the day, but, wishing to see how these men sacrifice to Bacchus, promised com- pliance that night. About nine o’clock, when the Cara- vanserai was quiet, I took a pipe, and a_ tobacco- pouch,! stuck my dagger in my belt, and slipped into Ali Agha’s room. He was sitting on a bed spread upon the ground: in front of him stood four wax candles (all Orientals hate drinking in any but a bright light), and a tray containing a basin of stuff like soup maigre, a dish of cold stewed meat, and two bowls of Salatah,? sliced cucumber, and curds. The ‘materials’ peeped out of an iron pot filled with water; one was a long, thin, white- glass flask of ’Araki, the other a bottle of some strong 1 When Egyptians of the middle classes call upon one another, the visitor always carries with him his tobacco-pouch, which he hands to the servant, who fills his pipe. 2 The ‘‘Salatah"’ is made as follows. Take a cucumber, pare, slice and place it in a plate, sprinkling it over with salt. After a few minutes, season it abundantly with pepper, and put it in a bowl containing some peppercorns, and about a pint of curds. When the dish is properly mixed, a live coal is placed upon the top of the compound to make it bind, as the Arabs say. It is considered a cooling dish, and is esteemed by the abstemious, as well as by the toper. 136 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. perfume. Both were wrapped up in wet rags, the usual refrigerator. Ali Agha welcomed me politely, and seeing me admire the preparations, bade me beware how I suspected an Albanian of not knowing how to drink; he made me sit by him on the bed, threw his dagger to a handy dis- tance, signalled me to do the same, and prepared to begin the bout. Taking up a little tumbler, in shape like those from which French postilions used to drink la goutte, he inspected it narrowly, wiped out the interior with his forefinger, filled it to the brim, and offered it to his guest? with a bow. I received it with a low salam, swallowed its contents at once, turned it upside down in proof of fair play, replaced it upon the floor, with a jaunty move- ment of the arm, somewhat like a pugilist delivering a ‘‘rounder,” bowed again, and requested him to help him- self. The same ceremony followed on his part. Im- mediately after each glass,—and rapidly the cup went about,—we swallowed a draught of water, and ate a spoonful of the meat or the Salatah in order to cool our palates. Then we re-applied ourselves to our pipes, emitting huge puffs, a sign of being “fast” men, and looked facetiously at each other,—drinking being con- sidered by Moslems a funny and pleasant sort of sin. The Albanian captain was at least half seas over when we began the bout, yet he continued to fill and to drain without showing the least progress towards ebriety. I in vain for a time expected the bad-masti (as the Persians call it,) the horse play, and the gross facetiz, which gene- 1 These Albanians are at most half Asiatic as regards manner. In the East generally, the host drinks of the cup, and dips his hand into the dish before his guest, for the same reason that the master of the house precedes his visitor over the threshold. Both actions denote that no treachery is frcended, and to reverse them, as amongst us, would be a gross breach of custom, likely to excite the liveliest suspicions. VII.—Preparations to Quit Cairo. 137 cally accompany southern and eastern tipsiness. Ali Agha, indeed, occasionally took up the bottle of perfume, filled the palm of his right hand, and dashed it in my face: I followed his example, but our pleasantries went no further. Presently my companion started a grand project, namely, that I should entice the respectable Haji Wali into the room, where we might force him to drink. The idea was facetious; it was making a Bow-street magis- trate polkat a casino. I started upto fetch the Haji; and when I returned with him Ali Agha was found in a new stage of ‘‘freshness.” He had stuck a green-leaved twig upright in the floor, and had so turned over a gugglet of water, that its contents trickled slowly, in a tiny stream under the verdure; whilst he was sitting before it mentally gazing, with an outward show of grim Quixotic tenderness, upon the shady trees and the cool rills of his fatherland. Possibly he had peopled the place with “young barbarians at play ;” for verily I thought that a tear ‘‘ which had no business there” was glistening in his stony eye. The appearance of Haji Wali suddenly changed the scene. Ali Agha jumped up, seized the visitor by the shoulder, compelled him to sit down, and, ecstasied by the old man’s horror at the scene, filled a tumbler, and with the usual grotesque grimaces insisted upon its being drunk off. Haji Walistoutly refused; then Ali Agha put it to his own lips, and drained it, with a hurt feeling and reproachful aspect. We made our unconvivial friend smoke a few puffs, and then we returned to the charge. In vain the Haji protested that throughout life he had avoided the deadly sin; in vain he promised to drink with us to-morrow,—in vain he quoted the Koran, and alternately coaxed, and threatened us with the police. We were inexorable. At last the Haji started upon his feet, _ and rushed away, regardless of any thing but escape, 138 Pilgrimage to Al-Madimah and Meccah. leaving his Tarbush, his slippers, and his pipe, in the hands of the enemy. The host did not dare to pursue his recreant guest beyond the door, but returning he carefully sprinkled the polluting liquid on the cap, pipe, and shoes, and called the Haji an ass in every tongue he knew. Then we applied ourselves to supper, and dis- patched the soup, the stew, and the Salatah. A few tumblers and pipes were exhausted to obviate indigestion, when. Ali Agha arose majestically, and said that he required a troop ot dancing girls to gladden his eyes with a ballet. I represented that such persons are no longer ad- mitted into Caravanserais.1 He inquired, with calm ferocity, ‘‘who hath forbidden it?” I replied ‘the Pasha ;” upon which Ali Agha quietly removed his cap, brushed it with his dexter fore-arm, fitted it on his fore- head, raking forwards, twisted his mustachios to the sharp point of a single hair, shouldered his pipe, and moved towards the door, vowing that he would make the Pasha himself come, and dance before us. I foresaw a brawl, and felt thankful that my boon companion had forgotten his dagger. Prudence whis- pered me to return to my room, to bolt the door, and to go to bed, but conscience suggested that it would be un- fair to abandon the Albanian in his present helpless state. I followed him into the outer gallery, pulling him, and begging him, as a despairing wife might urge a drunken husband, to return home. And he, like the British hus- band, being greatly irritated by the unjovial advice, instantly belaboured with his pipe-stick® the first person 1 Formerly these places, like the coffee-houses, were crowded with bad characters. Of late years the latter have been refused admittance, but it would be as easy to bar the door to gnats and flies. They appear as ‘ foot-pages,’’ as washerwomen, as beggars; in fact, they evade the law with ingenuity and impunity. 2 Isma’il Pasha was murdered by Malik: Nimr, chiel of Shendy — VII.—Pvreparations to Quit Cairo. 139 he met in the gallery, and sent him flying down the stairs with fearful shouts of ‘‘O Egyptians! O ye ac- cursed! O genus of Pharaoh! O race of dogs! O ' Egyptians!” He then burst open a door with his shoulder, and reeled into a room where two aged dames were placidly reposing by the side of their spouses, who were basket- makers, They immediately awoke, seeing a stranger, and, hearing his foul words, they retorted with a hot volley of vituperation. Put to flight by the old women’s tongues, Ali Agha, in spite of all my endeavours, reeled down the stairs, and fell upon the sleeping form of the night porter, whose blood he vowed to drink—the Oriental form of threaten- ing ‘‘spiflication.” Happily for the assaulted, the Agha’s servant, a sturdy Albanian lad, was lying on a mat in the doorway close by. Roused by the tumult, he jumped up, and found the captain in a state of fury. Apparently the man was used to the master’s mood. Without delay he told us all to assist, and we lending a helping hand, half dragged and half carried the Albanian to his room. Yet even in this ignoble plight, he shouted with all the force of his lungs the old war-cry, ‘‘O Egyptians! O race of dogs! I have dishonoured all Sikandariyah—all Kahirah—all Suways.'” And in this vaunting frame of mind he was put to bed. No Welsh undergraduate at Oxford, under similar circumstances, ever gave more trouble. ‘You had better start on your pilgrimage at once,” for striking him with a chibuk across the face. Travellers would do _well to remember, that in these lands the pipe-stick and the slipper disgrace a man, whereas a whip or a rod would not doso. The probable reason of this is, that the two articles of domestic use are applied slightingly, not seriously, to the purposes of punishment. 1 Anglicé, Alexandria, Cairo, and Suez,—an extensive field of operations. ¥40 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. said Haji Wali, meeting me the next morning with a ** soguenard ” smile. He was right. Throughout the Caravanserai nothing was talked of for nearly a week but the wickedness of the captain of Albanian Irregulars, and the hypocrisy of the staid Indian doctor. Thus it was, gentle reader, that I lost my reputation of being a ‘serious person” at Cairo. And all I have to show for it is the personal experience of an Albanian drinking-bout. I wasted but little time in taking leave of my friends. telling them, by way of precaution, that my destination was Meccah vid Jeddah, and firmly determining, if pos- sible, to. make Al-Madinah wid Yambu’. ‘ Conceal,” ‘says the Arab’s proverb, ‘“‘ Thy Tenets, thy ghee and thy Travelling.” CHARTER RiaV Chi FROM CAIRO TO SUEZ. SHayvkH NassAr, a Badawi of Tur (Mount Sinai,) being on his way homewards, agreed to let me have two dromedaries for the sum of fifty piastres, or about ten shillings, each. Being desirous to set out with a certain display of respectability, I accepted these terms: a man of humble pretensions would have travelled with a single animal, and a camel-man running behind him. But, besides ostentation, I wanted my attendant to be mounted, that we might make a forced march in order to ascertain how much a four years’ life of European effeminacy had impaired my powers of endurance. The reader may believe the assertion that there are few better tests than an eighty-four mile ride in mid-summer, on a bad wooden saddle, borne by a worse dromedary, across the Suez Desert. Even the Squire famed for being copper-sheeted might not have disdained a trial of the kind. I started my Indian boy and heavy luggage for Suez two days before the end of the Id,—laden camels gene- ‘rally taking fifty-five or sixty hours to do the journey, and I spent the intermediate time with Haji Wali. He advised me to mount about 3 p.M., so that I might arrive at Suez on the evening of the next day, and assisted me 1 The proper hire of a return dromedary from Cairo to Suez is forty piastres, But every man is charged in proportion to his rank, and Europeans generally pay about double. 142, Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. in making due preparations of water, tobacco, and pro- visions. Early on the morning of departure the Afghan Shaykh came to the Caravanserai, and breakfasted with us, ‘because Allah willed it.” After a copious meal he bestowed upon me a stately benediction, and would have embraced me, but I humbly bent over his hand: sad to relate, immediately that his back was turned, Haji Wali raised his forefinger to a right angle with the palm (chaff), and burst into a shout of irreverent laughter. At three o’clock Nassar, the Badawi, came to announce that the dromedaries were saddled. I dressed myself, sticking a pistol in my belt, and passing the crim- son silk cord of the ‘* Hamail” or pocket Koran over my shoulder, in token of being a pilgrim. Then distributing a few trifling presents to friends and servants, and accom- panied by the Shaykh Mohammed and Haji Wali, I de- scended the stairs with an important gait. Inthe courtyard squatted the camels, (dromedaries they could not be called,) and I found that a second driver was going to accompany us. I objected to this, as the extra Badawi would, of course, expect to be fed by me; but Nassar swore that the man was his brother, and as you rarely gain by small disputes with these people, he was allowed to have his Own way. Then came the preparatory leave-takings. Haji Wali embraced me heartily, and so did my poor old Shaykh, who, despite his decrepitude and my objections, insisted upon accompanying me to the city gate. I mounted the camel, crossed my legs before the pommel—stirrups are not used in Egypt’—and, preceding my friend, de- Tete mena eer Pe Wwe ee 1 The tender traveller had better provide himself with a pair of stirrups, but he will often find, when on camel back, that his legs are more numbed by hanging down, than by the Arab way of crossing them before and beneath the pommel. He must, however, be careful to inspect his saddle, and, should bars of wood not suit him, to have them covered with stuffed leather. And again, for my ~~ VIII.—F vom Caivo to Suez. 143 scended the street leading towards the Desert. As we emerged from the huge gateway of the Caravanserai all the bystanders, except only the porter, who believed me to be a Persian, and had seen me with the drunken captain, exclaimed, ‘‘ Allah bless thee, Y’al-H4jj,' and - restore thee to thy country and thy friends!” And passing through the Bab al-Nasr, where I addressed the salutation of peace to the sentry, and to the officer com- manding the guard, both gave me God-speed with great cordiality’—the pilgrim’s blessing in Asia, like the old woman’s in Europe, being supposed to possess peculiar efficacy. Outside the gate my friends took a final leave of me, and I will not deny having felt a tightening of heart as their honest faces and forms faded in the distance. But Shaykh Nassar switches his camel’s shoulder, and appears inclined to take the lead. This is a trial of manliness. There is no time for emotion. Not a moment can be spared, even for a retrospect. I kick my drome- dary, who steps out into a jog-trot. The Badawin with a loud ringing laugh attempt to give me the go-by. I resist, and we continue like children till the camels are at their speed, though we have eighty-four miles before us, and above us an atmosphere like a furnace blast. The road is deserted at this hour, otherwise grave Moslem part, I would prefer riding acamel with a nose-ring,—Mongol and Sindian fashion,—to holding him, as the Egyptians do, with a halter, or to guiding him,—Wahhabiwise,—with a stick. 1 “O pilgrim!” The Egyptians write the word Hajj, and pro- nounce Hagg. In Persia, India, and Turkey, it becomes Haji. These are mere varieties of form, derived from one and the same Arabic root. 2 The Egyptians and Arabs will not address ‘‘Salam” to an infidel , the Moslems of India have no such objection. This, on the banks of the Nile, is the revival of an old prejudice. Alexander of Alexandria, in his circular letter, describes the Arian héretics as men whom it is not lawful to salute, or to bid God-speed.” F44 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. travellers would have believed the police to be nearer than convenient to us. | | Presently we drew rein, and exchanged our pace for one more seasonable, whilst the sun began to tell on man and beast. High raised as we were above the ground, the reflected heat struck us sensibly, and the glare of a macadamized road added a few extra degrees of caloric.} The Badawin, to refresh themselves, prepare to smoke. They fill my chibuk, light it with a flint and steel, and cotton dipped in a solution of gunpowder, and pass it over tome.? After a few puffs I return it to them, and they use it turn by turn. Then they begin to while away the tedium of the road by asking questions, which passe-temps is not easily exhausted; for they are never satisfied till they know as much of you as you do of your- self. They next resort to talking about victuals; for with this hungry race, food, as a topic of conversation, takes the place of money in happier lands. And lastly, even this engrossing subject being exhausted for the moment, 1 It is Prince Pickler Muskau, if I recollect rightly, who men- tions that in his casea pair of dark spectacles produced a marked difference of apparent temperature, whilst travelling over the sultry sand of the Desert. I have often remarked the same phenomenon. The Arabs, doubtless for some reason of the kind, always draw their head-kerchiefs, like hoods, far over their brows, and cover up their mouths, even when the sun and wind are behind them. Inhabitants of the Desert are to be recognised by the net-work of wrinkles traced in the skin round the orbits, the result of half-closing their eyelids: but this is done to temper the intensity of the light. 2 Their own pipe-tubes were of coarse wood, in shape somewhat resembling the German porcelain pipe. The bowl was of soft stone, apparently steatite, which, when fresh, is easily fashioned with a knife. In Arabia the Badawin, and even the townspeople, use on journeys an earthen tube from five to six inches shorter than the — - English “clay,” thicker in the tube, with a large bowl, and coloured yellowish-red. It contains a handful of tobacco, and the smoker emits puffs like a chimney. In some of these articles the bow] forms a rectangle with the tube; in others, the whole is an unbroken curve, like the old Turkish Meerschaum, VIII.—Fvom Cairo to Suez. 145 ‘they take refuge in singing; and, monotonous and dron- ing as it is, their Modinha has yet an artless plaintiveness, which admirably suits the singer and the scenery. If you listen to the words, you will surely hear allusions to bright verdure, cool shades, bubbling rills, or some- thing which hereabouts man hath not, and yet which his soul desires. And now while Nassar and his brother are chaunting a duet,—the refrain being, * W’al arz mablal bi matar,” ‘* And the earth wet with rain,”"— I must crave leave to say a few words, despite the trite- ness of the subject, about the modern Sinaitic race of Arabs. Besides the tribes occupying the northern parts of the peninsula, five chief clans are enumerated by Burck- hardt.1 Nassar, and other authorities at Suez, divided them into six, namely :— 1. Karashi, who, like the Gara in Eastern Arabia, claim an apocryphal origin from the great Koraysh tribe. 2. Salihi, the principal family of the Sinaitic Badawin. 3. Arimi: according to Burckhardt this clan is merely a sub-family of the Saw4lihahs. 4. Sadi. Burckhardt calls them Walad Sa’id and derives them also from the Sawalihahs. 5. Aliki; and lastly, the 6. Muzaynah, generally pronounced M’zaynah. This clan claims tobe an off-shoot from the great Juhaynah tribe inhabiting the coasts and inner barrens about Yambu’, © According to oral tradition, five persons, the ancestors of the present Muzaynah race, were forced by a blood- feud to fly their native country. They landed at the Shurim,? or creek-ports, and have now spread them- x See Wallin’s papers, published in the Journals of the Royal Geographical Society. 2 Shurum, (plural of Sharm, a creek), a word prefixed to the proper names of three small ports in the Sinaitic peninsula. 146 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. selves over the Eastern parts of the so-called ‘‘Sinaitic peninsula. In Al-Hijaz the Muzaynah is an old an noble tribe. It produced Ka’ab al-Ahbar, the celebrate poet, to whom Mohammed gave the cloak which th Ottomans believe to have been taken by Sultan Salir from Egypt, and to have been converted under th name of Khirkah Sharif, into the national Orifamme. There are some interesting ethnographical point about these Sinaitic clans—interesting at least to thos who would trace the genealogy of the great Arabia: family. Any one who knows the Badawin can see tha the Muzaynah are pure blood. Their brows are broad their faces narrow, their features regular, and their eye of a moderate size; whereas the other Tawarah! (Sinaitic clans are as palpably Egyptian. They have preserved tha roundness of face which may still be seen in the Sphin: as in the modern Copt, and their eyes have that peculia size, shape, and look, which the old Egyptian painter attempted to express by giving to the profile, the forn of the full, organ. Upon this feature, so characteristic o the Nilotic race, I would lay great stress. No travelle familiar with the true Egyptian eye,—long, almond-shaped deeply’ fringed, slightly raised at the outer corner an dipping in front like the Chinese,2—can ever mistake it It is to be seen in half-castes, and, as I have befor remarked, families originally from the banks of the Nile but settled for generations in the Holy Land of Al-Hijaz retain the peculiarity. I therefore believe the Turi Badawin to be an impuri 1 Tawarah, plural of Tiri, an inhabitant of Tar or Sinai. 2 This feature did not escape the practised eyeof Denon. “ Eyes _ long, almond-shaped, half shut, and languishing, and turned up al the outer corner, as if habitually fatigued by the light and heat o: the’sun; cheeks round, &c.,"’ (Voyage en Egypt). The learned French. man’s description of the ancient Egyptians applies in most points te the Turi Badawin. fy VIII.—From Cairo to Suez. 147 face, Syro-Egyptian,' whereas their neighbour the Hyazi s the pure Syrian or Mesopotamian. A wonderful change has taken place in the Tawarah tribes, whilome pourtrayed by Sir John Mandeville as ‘folke fulle of alle evylle condiciouns.” Niebuhr notes he trouble they gave him, and their perpetual hankering or both murder and pillage. Even in the late Mo- vammed Ali’s early reign, no governor of Suez dared o flog, or to lay hands upon, a Turi, whatever offence 1e might have committed within the walls of the town. Now the Wild Man’s sword is taken from him, before he s allowed to enter the gates,? and my old acquaintance, la’afar Bey, would think no more of belabouring a Badawi than of flogging a Fellah.® Such is the result of | 1 ‘ Andhe”’ (Ishmael) ‘‘dwelt in the wilderness of Paran,”’ (Wady Firan ?) ‘‘and his mother took him a wife, out of the land of Egypt,” (Gen. xxi. 21). I wonder that some geographers have attempted to identify Massa, the son of Ishmael, (Gen. xxv. 14), with Meccah, when in verse 18 of the same chapter we read, ‘‘ And they’”’ (the twelve princes, sons of Ishmael) ‘‘dwelt from Havilah unto Shur.” This asserts, as clearly as language can, that the posterity of, or the race typified by, Ishmael,—the Syro-Egyptian,—occupied only the northern oarts of the peninsula. Their habitat is not even included in Arabia oy those writers who bound the country on the north by an imaginary ine drawn from Ras Mohammed to the mouths of the Euphrates. The late Dr. J. Wilson (‘‘Lands of the Bible’’), repeated by Eliot Warburton (‘‘Crescent and Cross’’), lays stress upon the Tawarah radition, that they are Bent Isré'il converted to Al-Islam, sonsidering it a fulfilment of the prophecy, ‘‘that a remnant of {[srael shall dwell in Edom.”’ With due deference to so illustrious an Orientalist and Biblical scholar as was Dr. Wilson, I believe that nost modern Moslems, being ignorant that Jacob was the first called “ prince with God,” apply the term Benu-Isra’il to all the posterity xf Abraham, not to Jews only. 2 In 1879 the Gates of Suez are a thing of the past; and it is not easy to find where they formerly stood. 3 In the mouth of a Turk, no epithet is more contemptuous than that of ‘' Fellah ibn Fellaih,’’"—" boor, son of aboor !’’ The Osmanlis ave, as usual, a semi-religious tradition to account for the superiority bf their nation over the Egyptians. When the learned doctor, Abi 148 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. Mohammed Ali’s vigorous policy, and such the effects | even semi- cipilisttions when its influence is brought : bear direct upon barbarism. To conclude this subject, the Tawarah still reta many characteristics of the Badawi race. The most goo humoured and sociable of men, they delight in a jes and may readily be managed by kindness and courtes Yet they are passionate, nice upon points of honou revengeful, and easily offended, where their peculiar pr judices are misunderstood. I have always found the: pleasant companions, and deserving of respect, for the hearts are good, and their courage is beyond a doub Those travellers who complain of their insolence ar extortion may have been either ignorant of their lat guage or offensive to them by assumption of superorit —in the Desert man meets man,—or physically unfitte to acquire their esteem. We journeyed on till near sunset through tk wilderness without ennui. It is strange how the min can be amused by scenery that presents so few objects 1 occupy it. But in such a country every slight modific: tion of form or colour rivets observation: the senses a1 sharpened, and the perceptive faculties, prone to slee over a confused mass of natural objects, act vigorous! when excited by the capability of embracing each detai Moreover, Desert views are eminently suggestive; the Abdullah Mohammed bin Idris al-Shafe’i, returned from Meccah | the banks of the Nile, he mounted, it is said, a donkey belonging 1 one of the Asinarii of Bulak. Arriving at the Caravanserai, he gar the man ample fare, whereupon the Egyptian, putting forth his han and saying ‘‘hat"’ (give!) called for more. The doctor doubled tk fee; still the double was demanded. At last the divine’s purse wz exhausted, and the proprietor of the donkey waxed insolent. wandering Turk seeing this, took all the money from the Egyptia1 paid him his due, solemnly kicked him, and returned the rest to A Shafe’i, who asked him his name—'t Osmdn'’—and his nation- the ‘* Osmanli,’"—blessed him, and prophesied to his countryme supremacy over the Fellahs and donkey boys of Egypt. VIII.—Frvom Cairo to Suez. 149 ppeal to the Future, not to the Past: they arouse because ney are by no means memorial. To the solitary way- rer there is an interest in the Wilderness unknown to ape seas and Alpine glaciers, and even to the rolling -rairie,—the effect of continued excitement on the mind, timulating its powers to their pitch. Above, through a ky terrible in its stainless beauty, and the splendours of pitiless blinding glare, the Samin! caresses you like a on with flaming breath. Around lie drifted sand-heaps, pon which each puff of wind leaves its trace in solid javes, flayed rocks, the very skeletons of mountains, nd hard unbroken plains, over which he who rides is purred by the idea that the bursting of a water-skin, or he pricking of a camel’s hoof, would be a certain death f torture,—a haggard land infested with wild beasts, nd wilder men,—a region whose very fountains murmur he warning words “Drink and away!” What can @ more exciting? what more sublime? Man’s heart ounds in his breast at the thought of measuring his uny force with Nature’s might, and of emerging riumphant from the trial. This explains the Arab’s pro- erb, ‘“* Voyaging is victory.” In the Desert, even more han upon ,the ocean, there is present death: hardship ; there, and piracies, and shipwreck, solitary, not in rowds, where, as the Persians say, ‘‘ Death is a Festival”; —and this sense of danger, never absent, invests the cene of travel with an interest not its own. Let the traveller who suspects exaggeration leave he Suez road for an hour or two, and gallop northwards ver the sands: in the drear silence, the solitude, and the antastic desolation of the place, he will feel what the Desert may be. ; And then the Oases,? and little lines of fertility— 1 From Samm, the poison-wind. Vulgar, and most erroneously alled the Simoon. ; 2 Hugh Murray derives this word from the Egyptian, and quoting I 50 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. how soft and how beautiful !—even though the Wady a Ward (the Vale of Flowers) be the name of some ster flat upon which a handful of wild shrubs blossom whil struggling through a cold season’s ephemeral existenc: In such circumstances the mind is influenced through th body. Though your mouth glows, and your skin 3 parched, yet you feel no languor, the effect of humi heat; your lungs are lightened, your sight brighten: your memory recovers its tone, and your spirits becom exuberant; your fancy and imagination are powerfull aroused, and the wildness and sublimity of the scene around you stir up all the energies of your soul—whethe for exertion, danger, or strife. Your morale improves ; yo become frank and cordial, hospitable and single-minded the hypocritical politeness and the slavery of civilisa tion are left behind you in the city. Your senses ar quickened : they require no stimulants but air and exer cise,—in the Desert spirituous liquors excite only disgust There is a keen enjoyment in mere animal existence The sharp appetite disposes of the most indigestible food Strabo and Abulfeda makes it synonymous with Auasis and Hyasis. — believe it to be a mere corruption of the Arabic Wady (.¢ o\q) or Wah Nothing can be more incorrect than the vulgar idea of an Arabia Oasis, except it be the popular conception of an Arabian Desert One reads of “isles of the sandy sea,” but one never sees them The real ‘‘ Wady "' is, generally speaking, a rocky valley bisected bi the bed of a mountain torrent, dry during the hot season. In sucl places the Badawin love to encamp, because they find food anc drink,—water being always procurable by digging. When the suppl; is perennial, the Wady becomes the site of a village. ~The Desert i: as unaptly compared to a “sandy sea." Most of the wilds of Arabi: resemble the tract between Suez and Cairo; only the former are o primary formation, whereas the others are of a later date. Sand. heaps are found in every Desert, but sand-plains are a local feature not the general face of the country. The Wilderness, east of the Nile is mostly a hard dry earth, which requires only a monsoon to become highly productive: even where silicious sand covers the plain, the waters of a torrent, depositing humus or vegetable mould, bind the particles together, and fit it for the reception of seed. VIII.—From Cairo to Suez. 151 ithe sand is softer than a bed of down, and the purity of the air suddenly puts to flight a dire cohort of diseases. |Hence it is that both sexes, and every age, the most material as well as the most imaginative of minds, the ltamest citizen, the parson, the old maid, the peaceful student, the spoiled child of civilisation, all feel their hearts dilate, and their pulses beat strong, as they look idown from their dromedaries upon the glorious Desert. Where do we hear of a traveller being disappointed by it? It is another illustration of the ancient truth that Nature returns to man, however unworthily he has treated her. And believe me, when once your tastes have con- formed to the tranquillity of such travel, you will suffer ‘real pain in returning to the turmoil of civilisation. You will anticipate the bustle and the confusion of artificial life, its luxury and its false pleasures, with repugnance. Depressed in spirits, you will for a time after your return feel incapable of mental or bodily exertion. The air of cities will suffocate you, and the care-worn and cadaverous countenances of citizens will haunt you like a vision of judgment.? As the black shadow mounted in the Eastern sky,? I turned off the road, and was suddenly saluted by a figure rising from a little hollow with an “‘ As’ Salamu ’alaykum” of truly Arab sound.® I looked at the speaker for a moment without recognising him. He then advanced with voluble expressions of joy, invited me to sup, seized 1 Theintelligent reader willeasily understand that I am speaking of the Desert in the temperate season, not during the summer heats, when the whole is one vast furnace, nor in winter, when the Sarsar wind cuts like an Italian Tramontana. 2 This, as a general rule in Al-Islam, is a sign that the Maghrib or evening prayer must not bedelayed. The Shafe’i school performs its devotions immediately after the sun has disappeared. 3 This salutation of peace is so differently pronounced by every Eastern nation that the observing traveller will easily make of it a shibboleth. 152 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. my camel’s halter without waiting for an answe nakh’d?” it (7.e. forced it to kneel), led me hurriedly | a carpet spread in a sandy hollow, pulled off my slipper gave me cold water for ablution, told me that he ha mistaken me at a distance for a “‘ Sherif” (or Prince) : the Arabs, but was delighted to find himself in error; an urged me to hurry over ablution, otherwise that nigl would come on before we could say our prayers. It we Mohammed al-Basyuni, the Meccan boy of whom I ha bought my pilgrim-garb at Cairo. There I had refuse his companionship, but here for reasons of his own—or of them was an utter want of money,—he would take n excuse. When he prayed, he stood behind me,? thereb proving pliancy of conscience, for he suspected me fro1 the first of being at least a heretic. After prayer he lighted a pipe, and immediatel placed the snake-like tube in my hand; this is an argt ment which the tired traveller can rarely resist. He the began to rummage my saddle-bags; he drew forth store of provisions, rolls, water-melons, boiled eggs, and date; and whilst lighting the fire and boiling the coffee, he mar aged to distribute hisown stock, which was neither plentifi nor first-rate, to the camel-men. Shaykh Nassar an his brother looked aghast at this movement, but the bo was inexorable. They tried a few rough hints, which h noticed by singing a Hindustani couplet that asserts th impropriety of anointing rats’ heads with jasmine oi They suspected abuse, and waxed cross; he acknow ledged this by deriding them. ‘I have heard of Nasr! and Nasirs and Mansirs, but may Allah spare me th 1 To ‘‘nakh”’ in vulgar, as in classical, Arabic is to gurgle “ Ikh ikh!”’ in the bottom of one’s throat till the camel kneels down. W. bave no English word for this proceeding ; but Anglo-Oriental trav} ellers are rapidly naturalising the ‘‘ nakh."’ 2 There are many qualifications necessary for an Imam—a leade : of prayer; the first condition, of course, is orthodoxy, VIII.—Fvom Catro to Suez. 153 ortification of a Nassar!” said the boy, relying upon y support. And I urged him on, wanting to see how e city Arab treats the countryman. He then took my bacco-pouch fromthe angry Badawin, and in a stage- hisper reproved me for entrusting it to such thieves ; sisting, at the same time, upon drinking all the coffee, ‘that the poor guides had to prepare some for them- lves. He improved every opportunity of making mis- tief. ‘*We have eaten water-melon!” cried Nassar, itting its receptacle in token of repletion. ‘* Dost thou ‘ar, my lord, how they grumble ?—the impudent fhans!”’ remarked Mohammed—‘ We have eaten water- don! that is to say, we ought to have eaten meat!” he Badawin, completely out of temper, told him not to ust himself among their hills. He seized a sword, and wan capering about after the fashion of the East-Indian hool of arms, and boasted that he would attack single- inded the whole clan, which elicited an ironical ‘‘ Allah! llah !” from the hearers. After an hour most amusingly spent in this way, I ose, and insisted upon mounting, much to the dissatis- ction of my guides, who wished to sleep there. Shaykh assar and his brother had reckoned upon living gratis, r at least three days, judging it improbable that a ft Effendi would hurry himself. When they saw the ir vision dissolve, they began to finesse: they induced je camel-man, who ran by the side of Mohammed’s drom- lary, to precede the animal—a favourite manceuvre to levent overspeed. Ordered to fall back, the man pleaded ltigue, and inability to walk. The boy Mohammed im- ediately asked if I had any objection to dismount one my guides, and to let his weary attendant ride for an mur or so. I at once assented, and the Badawin obeyed e with ominous grumblings. When we resumed our arch the melancholy Arabs had no song left in them; qereas Mohammed chaunted vociferously, and quoted 154 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and. Meccah. bad Hindustani and worse Persian till silence was forcibl imposed upon him. The camel-men lagged behind, it order to prevent my dromedary advancing too fast, an the boy’s guide, after dismounting, would stride along i: front of us, under pretext of showing the way. Ands we jogged on, now walking, then trotting, till the drome daries began to grunt with fatigue, and the Arab clamoured for a halt. At midnight we reached the Central Station, and la’ down under its walls to take a little rest. The dews fe heavily, wetting the sheets that covered us; but wh cares for such trifles in the Desert? The moon shon bright; the breeze blew coolly, and the jackal sang , lullaby which lost no time in inducing the soundest sleer As the Wolf’s Tail? showed in the heavens we arose Grey mists floating over the hills northwards gave th Dar al-Bayda,® the Pasha’s Palace, the look of som old feudal castle. There was a haze in the atmos phere, which beautified even the face of Desolatior The swift flying Kata‘ sprang in noisy coveys fror the road, and a stray gazelle paced daintily over th stony plain. As we passed by the Pilgrims’ tree, 1 “ The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night, (Psalm cxxi. 6). Easterns still believe firmly in the evil effects ¢ moonlight upon the human frame,—from Sind to Abyssinia, th traveller will hear tales of wonder concerning it. | 2 The Dum i Gurg, or wolf's tail, is the Persian name for th first brushes of grey light which appear as forerunners of dawn. 3 Dar al-Bayda is a palace belonging to H.H. Abbas Pashé This ‘‘ white house " was formerly called the ‘‘ red house,""—I beliey, from the colour of its windows,—but the name was changed, as bein not particularly good-omened. 4 The Tetrao Kata or sand-grouse, (Pterocles melanogaster; i Sind called the rock pigeon), is a fast-flying bird, not unlike grey partridge whilst upon the wing. When, therefore, Shanfar boasts ‘‘ The ash-coloured Katas can only drink my leavings, afte hastening all night toslake their thirst in the morning,” it is a hyper bole to express exceeding swiftness. Vill.—F yom Cairo to Suez. 155 dded another rag to its coat of tatters! We then ivoked the aid of the holy saint Al-DakrGri? from his ‘eam-coloured abode, mounted our camels, and resumed 1e march in real earnest. The dawn passed away in its slicious coolness, and sultry morning came on. Then ay glared in its fierceness, and the noontide sun made the lain glow with terrible heat. Still we pressed onwards. At 3 P.M. we turned off the road into a dry water-course, hich is not far from No. 13 Station. The sand was otted with the dried-up leaves of the Datura, and strongly erfumed by “Shih,” a kind of Absinthe (Avtemisia),° 1e sweetest herb of the Desert. A Mimosa was there, ad although its shade at this season is little better than 1 I have already, when writing upon the subject of Sind, alluded ) this system as prevalent throughout Al-Islam, and professed, like Ir. Lane, ignorance of its origin and object. In Huc’s travels, we re told that the Tartars worship mountain spirits by raising an Obo,’-—dry branches hung with bones and strips of cloth, and lanted in enormous heaps of stones. Park, also, in Western Africa, onformed to the example of his companions, in adding a charm or ired of cloth on a tree (at the entrance of the Wilderness), which was smpletely covered with these guardian symbols. And, finally, the arikh Tabari mentions it as a practice of the Pagan Arabs, and ilks of evil spirits residing in the date-tree.. May not, then, the ractice in Al-Islam be one of the many débris of fetish-worship hich entered into the heterogeneous formation of the Saving Faith ? ome believe that the Prophet permitted the practice, and explain 1e peculiar name of the expedition called Zat al-Rika’a (place of areds of cloth), by supposing it to be a term for a tree to which the loslems hung their ex-voto rags. 2 Thesaint lies under a little white-washed dome, springing from square of low walls—a form of sepulchre now common to AIl- lijaz, Egypt, and the shores and islands of the Red Sea. As regards is name my informants told meit was that of a Hijazi Shaykh. The ibject is by no means interesting; but the exact traveller will find 1e word written Takroore, and otherwise explained by Sir vente Vilkinson. 3 Called by the Arabs Shih (_.3), which the dictionaries trans- ite “ wormwood of Pontus." We find Wallin in his works speaking f Ferashat al-shih, or wormwood carpets. 156 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. a cocoa tree’s,' the Badawin would not neglect it. W lay down upon the sand, to rést among a party of Mag rabi pilgrims travelling to Suez. These wretches, wl wereabout a dozen in number, appeared to be of the lowe class; their garments consisted of a Barnus-cloak and pair of sandals; their sole weapon a long knife, and the only stock a bag of dry provisions. Each had his lar wooden bowl, but none carried water with him. It w; impossible to help pitying their state, nor could I eat, se: ing them hungry, thirsty, and way-worn. So Nass served out about a pint of water anda little bread to eax man. Then they asked for more. None was to be ha so they cried out that money would do as well. I hz determined upon being generous to the extent of a fe pence. Custom, as well as inclination, was in favour the act; but when the alms became a demand, and tl demand was backed by fierce looks and a derisive snee and a kind of reference to their knives, gentle Chari took the alarm and fled. My pistols kept them at ba for they were only making an attempt to intimidate, an though I took the precaution of sitting apart from ther there was no real danger. The Suez road, by the wi regulations of Mohammed Ali, has become as safe European travellers as that between Hampstead a1 Highgate; and even Easterns have little to fear but wh their fears create. My Indian servant was full of tl dangers he had run, but I did not believe in them. afterwards heard that the place where the Maghrat attempted to frighten what they thought a timid Tu was notorious for plunder and murder. Here the spu of two opposite hills almost meet upon the plain, favourable ground for Badawi ambuscade. Of the Mag 1 Weare told in verse of ‘a cocoa’s feathery shade," and so Pombre d'un cocotiey. But to realise the prose picture, let the hor reader, choosing some sultry August day, fasten a large fan to a lo} pole, and enjoy himself under it. VIII.—From Cairo to Suez. 157 ‘abis I shall have more to say when relating my voyage n the Pilgrim Ship: they were the only travellers from whom we experienced the least annoyance. Numerous yarties of Turks, Arabs, and Afghans, and a few East- Indians! were on the same errand as ourselves. All, as we passed them, welcomed us with the friendly saluta- ion that becomes men engaged in a labour of religion. About half an hour before sunset, I turned off the ‘oad leftwards; and, under pretext of watering the drome- laries, rode up to inspect the fort Al-’Ajradi It is a quadrangle with round towers at the gateway and at the sorners, newly built of stone and mortar; the material is already full of crevices, and would not stand before a Welve-pounder. Without guns.or gunners, it is occupied sy about a dozen Fellahs, who act as_ hereditary *Ghafirs,” (guardians); they were expecting at that ime to be reinforced by a party of Bashi Buzuks— [rregulars from Cairo. The people of the country were letermined that an English fleet would soon appear in he Red Sea, and this fort is by them ridiculously con- sidered the key of Suez. As usual in these Vauban- 1 On a subsequent occasion, I met a party of Panjabis, who haa walked from Meccah to Cairo in search of ‘‘ Abt Tabilah,” (General Avitabile), whom report had led to the banks of the Nile. Some were young, others had white beards—all were weary and wayworn ; but the saddest sight was an old woman, so decrepit that she could scarcely walk. The poor fellows were travelling on foot, carrying their wallets, with a few pence in their pockets, utterly ignorant of route and road, and actually determined in this plight to make Lahore by Baghdad, Bashir, and Karachi. Such—so incredible—is Indian improvidence ! 2 Upon this word Cacography has done her worst—" Haji Rood”’ may serve for aspecimen. My informants told me that Al-'Ajrudi is the name of a Hijazi Shaykh whose mortal remains repose under a ittle dome near the fort. This, if it be true, completely nullifies the sfforts of Etymology to discern in it a distinct allusion to ‘‘the over- throw of Pharaoh’s chariots, whose Hebrew appellation, ‘ Ageloot, bears some resemblance to this modern name." 158 | Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. jacking lands, the well supplying the stronghold is in ¢ detached and distant building, which can be approachec by an enemy with the greatest security. Over the gate way was an ancient inscription reversed; the water wa: brackish, and of bad quality.? : | We resumed our way: Suez now stood near. In th blue distance rose the castellated peaks of Jabal Rahal and the wide sand-tracts over which lies the land-routi to Al-Hijaz. Before us the sight ever dear to Englisl eyes,—a strip of sea gloriously azure, with a gallan steamer walking the waters. On the right-hand side th broad slopes of Jabal Mukattam, a range of hills whicl flanks the road all the way from Cairo. It was at thi hour a spectacle not easily to be forgotten. The nea range of chalk and sandstone wore a russet suit, gil where the last rays of the sun seamed it with light, anc the deep folds were shaded with the richest purple; whils the background of the higher hills, Jabal Tawari, gene rally known as Abt Dardj (the Father of Steps), wa: sky-blue streaked with the lightest plum colour. Wi drew up at a small building called Bir Suways (Well o Suez); and, under pretext of watering the cattle, I sat fo half an hour admiring the charms of the Desert. Thi eye never tires of such loveliness of hue, and the memory of the hideousness of this range, when a sun in fron exposed each gaunt and barren feature, supplied thi evening view with another element of attraction. It was already night when we passed through thi tumbling six-windowed gateway of Suez; and still re mained the task of finding my servant and effects. Afte 1 The only sweet water in Suez is brought on camel back fron the Nile, across the Desert. The ‘‘ Bir Suez" is fit for beasts only the 'Uytiin Masa (Moses’ Wells) on the Eastern side, and that belov Abu Daraj, on the Western shore of the Suez Gulf, are but litth better. The want of sweet water is the reason why no Hammam i found at Suez. VIII.—From Cairo to Suez. 159 vandering in and out of every Wakalah in the village, luring which peregrination the boy Mohammed proved iimself so useful that I determined at all risks to make im my companion, we accidentally heard that a Hindi iad taken lodgings at a hostelry bearing the name of irjis al-Zahr.! On arriving there our satisfaction was iminished by the intelligence that the same Hindi, after ocking the door, had gone out with his friends to a ship n the harbour ; in fact, that he had made all preparations or running away. I dismounted, and tried to persuade he porter to break open the wooden bolt, but he abso- utely refused, and threatened the police. Meanwhile Mohammed had found a party of friends, men of Al- fiadinah, returning to the pilgrimage after a begging tour hrough Egypt and Turkey. The meeting was charac- etised by vociferous inquiries, loud guffaws and warm mbraces. I was invited to share their supper and their lormitory,—an uncovered platform projecting from the allery over the square court below,—but I had neither ppetite nor spirits enough to be sociable. The porter, fter much persuasion, showed me an empty room, in vhich I spread my carpet. That wasasad night. My ighty-four mile ride had made every bone ache; I had ost epidermis, and the sun had seared every portion of kin exposed to it. So, lamenting my degeneracy and the ll effects of four years’ domicile in Europe, and equally isquieted in mind about the fate of my goods and hattels, I fell into an uncomfortable sleep. ae ee eee ee ee 1 The ‘“‘George"’: so called after its owner, a Copt, Consular \gent for Belgium. There are 36 Caravanserais at Suez, 33 small mes for merchandise, and 3 for travellers; of these the best is that if Sayyid Hashim. The pilgrim, however, must not expect much omfort or convenience, even at Sayyid Hashim’s. CHAPTERS SUEZ, Earty on the morning after my arrival, I arose, and consulted my new acquaintances about the means ol recovering the missing property. They unanimously advised a visit to the governor, whom, however, they described to be a ‘‘ Kalb ibn kalb,” (dog, son of a dog, who never returned Moslems’ salutations, and whe thought all men dirt to be trodden under foot by the Turks. The boy Mohammed showed his savoir faive by extracting from his huge Sahar4-box a fine embroidered cap, and a grand peach-coloured coat, with which I was instantly invested; he dressed himself with similar magnif- icence, and we then set out to the “ palace.” Ja’afar Bey,—he has since been deposed,—then occu- pied the position of judge, officer commanding, collector of customs, and magistrate of Suez. He was a Mir-liw4, or brigadier-general, and had some reputation as a soldier, together with a slight tincture of European science and language. The large old Turk received me| most superciliously, disdained all return of salam, and,| fixing upon me two little eyes like gimlets, demanded my) business. I stated that one Shaykh Nur, my Hindi ser.} vant, had played me false; therefore I required permission] to break into the room supposed to contain my effects,| He asked my profession. I replied the medical. This] led hirn to inquire if I had any medicine for the eyes, and IX .—Suez. - 161 being answered in the affirmative, he sent a messenger with me to enforce obedience on the part of the porter. The obnoxious measure was, however, unnecessary. As we entered the Caravanserai, there appeared at the door the black face of Shaykh Nur, looking, though accom- panied by sundry fellow-countrymen, uncommonly as if he merited and expected the bamboo. He had, by his own account, been seduced into the festivities of a coal- hulk, manned by Lascars, and the vehemence of his self- accusation saved him from the chastisement which I had determined to administer. I must now briefly describe the party of Meccah and Madinah men into which fate threw me: their names will so frequently appear in the following pages, that a few words about their natures will not be misplaced. First of allcomes Omar £ffendi,—so called in honour, —a Daghistani or East-Circassian, the grandson of a Hanafi Mufti at Al-Madinah, and the son of a Shaykh Rakb, an officer whose duty it is to lead dromedary-cara- vans. He sits upon his cot, a small, short, plump body, of yellow complexion and bilious temperament, grey-eyed, soft-featured, and utterly beardless,—which affects his feelings,—he looks fifteen, and he owns to twenty-eight. His manners are those of a student; he dresses respect- ably, prays regularly, hates the fair sex, like an Arab, whose affections and aversions are always in extremes; is “serious,” has a mild demeanour, an humble gait, and a soft, slow voice. When roused he becomes furious as a Bengal tiger. His parents have urged him to marry, and 1e, like Kamar al-ZamAn, has informed his father that he is “a person of great age, but little sense.’”’ Urged moreover dy a melancholy turn of mind, and the want of leisure ‘or study at Al-Madinah, he fled the paternal domicile, ind entered himself a pauper T4lib ’ilm (student) in the Azhar Mosque. His disconsolate friends and afflicted ‘elations sent a confidential man to fetch him home, by VOL. I. G 162 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. force should it be necessary; he has yielded, and is now awaiting the first opportunity of travelling gratis, if pos- sible, to Al-Madinah. ; That confidential man is a negro-servant, called Sa’ad, notorious in his native city as Al-Jinni, the Demon. | Born and bred a slave in Omar Effendi’s family, he - obtained manumission, became a soldier in Al-Hijaz, was dissatisfied with pay perpetually in arrears, turned merchant, and wandered far and wide, to Russia, to Gibraltar, and to Baghdad. He is the pure African, noisily merry at one moment, at another silently sulky; affectionate and abusive, brave and boastful, reckless and crafty, exceedingly quarrelsome, and unscrupulous to the last degree. The bright side of his character is his love and respect for the young master, Omar Effendi; yet even him he will scold in a paroxysm of fury, and steal from him whatever he can lay his hands on. He is generous with his goods, but is ever borrowing and never paying money; he dresses like a beggar, with the dirtiest Tarbush upon his tufty poll, and only a cotton shirt over his sooty skin; whilst his two boxes are full of handsome apparel for himself and the three ladies, his wives, at Al- Madinah. He knows no fear but for those boxes. Fre- quently during our search for a vessel he forced himself into Ja’afar Bey’s presence, and there he demeaned himseli so impudently, that we expected to see him lamed by the bastinado; his forwardness, however, only amused the dignitary. He wanders all day about the bazar, talking | about freight and passage, for he has resolved, cost what it will, to travel free, and, with doggedness like his, he must succeed. Shaykh Hamid al-Samman derives his cognomen, | the “‘ Clarified-Butter-Seller,” from a celebrated saint and Sufi-of the Kadiriyah order, who left a long line of holy descendants at Al-Madinah. This Shaykh squats upon a box full of presents for the “daighter of his paternal uncle” | LX .—Suez. 163 (his wife), a perfect specimen of the town Arab. His poll ‘is crowned with a rough Shfshah or tuft of hair?; his face is of a dirty brown, his little goatee straggles untrimmed; his feet are bare, and his only garment is an exceedingly unclean ochre-coloured blouse, tucked into a leathern girdle beneath it. He will not pray, because he is unwilling to take pure clothes out of his box; but he smokes when he can get other people's tobacco, and groans between the whiffs, conjugating the verb all day, for he is of active mind. He can pick out his letters, and he keeps in his bosom a little dog’s-eared MS. full of serious romances and silly prayers, old and exceedingly ill written; this he will draw forth at times, peep into for a moment, devoutly kiss, and restore to its proper place with the veneration of the vulgar for a book. He can sing all manner of songs, slaughter a sheep with dexterity, deliver a grand call to prayer, shave, cook, fight; and he excels in the science of vitupera- tion : like Sa’ad, he never performs his devotions, except 1 When travelling, the Shushah is allowed to spread over the greatest portion of the scalp, to act as a protection against the sun; and the hair being shaved off about two inches all round the head, leaves a large circular patch. Nothing can be uglier than such tonsure, and it is contrary to the strict law of the Apostle, who ordered a clean shave, or a general growth of the hair. The Arab, however, knows by experience, that though habitual exposure of the scalp to a burning sun may harden the skull, it seldom fails to damage its precious contents. He, therefore, wears a Shushah dur- ing his wanderings, and removes it on his return» home. Abu Hanifah, if I am rightly informed, wrote a treatise advocating the growth of a long lock of hair on the Nasiyah, or crown of the head, lest the decapitated Moslem’s mouth or beard be exposed to defilement by an impure hand. This would justify the comparing fit to the ‘' chivalry-lock,’’ by which the American brave facilitates ithe removal of his own scalp. But I am at a loss to discover the forigin of our old idea, that the ‘‘angel of death will, on the last day, fbear all true believers, by this important tuft of hair on the crown, to Paradise.” Probably this office has been attributed to the Shushah by the ignorance of the W. st 164 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. when necessary to ‘keep: up appearances,” and though he has sworn to perish before he forgets his vow to the ‘daughter of his uncle,” I shrewdly suspect he is no better than he should be. His brow crumples at the word wine, but there is quite another expression about the region of the mouth; Stambul, where he has lived some months, without learning ten words of Turkish, is a notable place for displacing prejudice. And finally, he has not more than a piastre or two in his pocket, for he has squandered the large presents given to him at Cairo and Constantinople by noble ladies, to whom he acted as master of the ceremonies at the tomb of the Apostle. Stretched on a carpet, smoking a Persian Kaliun all day, lies Salih Shakkar, a Turk on the father’s, and an Arab on the mother’s side, born at Al-Madinah. This lanky youth may be sixteen years old, but he has the ideas of forty-six; he is thoroughly greedy, selfish, and un- generous; coldly supercilious as a Turk, and energetically avaricious as an Arab. He prays more often, and dresses more respectably, than the descendant of the Clarified- Butter-Seller; he affects the Constantinople style of toilette, and his light yellow complexion makes people con- sider him a ‘superior person.” We were intimate enough on the road, when he borrowed from me a little money. But at Al-Madinah he cut me pitilessly, as a «town man” does a continental acquaintance accidentally met in Hyde Park; and of course he tried, though in vain, to evade repaying his debt. He had a tincture of letters and appeared to have studied critically the subject 0 “largesse.” ‘‘ The Generous is Allah's friend, aye, thougt he be a Sinner, and the Miser is Allah’s Foe, aye, thougl he be a Saint,” was a venerable saying always in hi: mouth. He also informed me that Pharaoh, althougl the quintessence of impiety, is mentioned by name in tht Koran, by reason of his liberality; whereas Nimrod another monster of iniquity, is only alluded to, becausi TX .—Suez. 165 he was a stingy tyrant. It is almost needless to declare that Salih Shakkar was, as the East-Indians say, a very “‘fly-sucker.’”” There were two other men of Al-Madinah in the Wakalah Jirgis ;-but I omit description, as we left them, they being penniless, at Suez. One of them, Mo- hammed Shiklibha, I afterwards met at Meccah, and seldom have I seen a more honest and warm-hearted fellow. When we were embarking at Suez, he fell upon Hamid’s bosom, and both of them wept bitterly, at the prospect of parting even for a few days. All the individuals above.mentioned lost no time in opening the question of a loan. It was a lesson in Oriental metaphysics to see their condition. They hada twelve days’ voyage, and a four days’ journey before them; boxes to carry, custom-houses to face, and stomachs to fill; yet the whole party could scarcely, I believe, muster two dollars of ready money. Their boxes were full of valuables, arms, clothes, pipes, slippers, sweetmeats, and other “notions”; but nothing short of starvation would have induced them to pledge the smallest article. Foreseeing that their company would be an ad- vantage, I hearkened favourably to the honeyed request for a few crowns. The boy Mohammed obtained six dollars; Hamid about five pounds, as I intended to make his house at Al-Madinah my home; Omar Effendi three dollars; Sa’ad the Demon two—lI gave the money to him at Yambu’,—and Salih Shakkar fifty piastres. But since in these lands, as a rule, no one ever lends coins, or, borrowing, ever returns them, I took care to exact service from the first, to take two rich coats from the econd, a handsome pipe from the third, a “bala” or ataghan from the fourth, and from the fifth an imitation Cashmere shawl. After which, we sat down and drew 1“ Makhi-chis,” equivalent to our “ skia-flint.” 166 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. out the agreement. It was favourable to me: I lent them Egyptian money, and bargained for repayment in the currency of Al-Hijaz, thereby gaining the exchange, which is sometimes sixteen per cent. This was done, not so much for the sake of profit, as with the view of becoming a Hatim,’ by a ‘‘ never mind” on settling day. My companions having received these small sums, became affectionate and eloquent in my praise: they asked me to make one of their number at meals for the future, over- whelmed me with questions, insisted upon a present of sweetmeats, detected in me a great man under a cloud,— perhaps my claims to being a Darwaysh assisted them to this discovery,—and declared that I should perforce be their guest at Meccah and Al-Madinah. On alloccasions precedence was forced upon me; my opinion was the first. ‘consulted, and no project was settled without my con- currence: briefly, Abdullah the Darwaysh suddenly found, himself a person of consequence. This elevation led me. into an imprudence which might have cost me dear; aroused the only suspicion about me ever expressed during the summer’s tour. My friends had looked at my clothes, overhauled my medicine chest, and criticised my pistols; they sneered at my copper-cased watch,’ and remembered having seen a compass at Constantinople. Therefore I imagined they would think little about a sextant. This was a mistake. The boy Mohammed, I t A well-known Arab chieftain, whose name has come to stand for generosity itself. 2 This being an indispensable instrument for measuring distances, | I had it divested of gold case, and provided with a facing carefully stained and figured with Arabic numerals. In countries where few can judge of a watch by its works, it is as well to secure its safety by making the exterior look as mean as possible. The watches worn by respectable people in Al-Hijaz are almost always old silver pieces, of the turnip shape, with hunting cases and an outer étwi of thick leather. Mostly they are of Swiss or German manufacture, and they find their way into Arabia vid Constantinople and Cairo, [X.—S ez. 167 jaiterwards learned,! waited only my leaving the room t& jdeclare that the would-be Haji was one of the Infidels from India, and a council sat to discuss the case. For- tunately tor me, Omar Effendi had looked over a letter which I had written to Haji Wali that morning, and he nad at various times received categorical replies to certain jquestions in high theology. He felt himself justified in declaring, ex cathedvad, the boy Mohammed's position per- jfectly untenable. And Shaykh Hamid, who looked \forward to being my host, guide, and debtor in general, jand probably cared scantily for catechism or creed, swore jthat the light of Al-Islam was upon my countenance, jand, consequently, that the bby Mohammed was a pauper, ja ‘‘takir,” an owl, a cut-off one,? a stranger, and a Wah- jhabi (heretic), for daring to impugn the faith of a brother jbeliever.2. The.scene ended with a general abuse of-the facute youth, who was told on all sides that he had no jshame, and was directed to ‘‘fear Allah.” I was struck jwith the expression of my friends’ countenances when they saw the sextant, and, determining with a sigh to 1 On my return to Cairo, Omar Effendi, whom I met accidentally jin the streets, related the story tome. I never owned having played a part, to avoid shocking his prejudices; and though he must have {suspected me,—for the general report was, that an Englishman, dis- guised as a Persian, had performed the pilgrimage, measured the country, and sketched the buildings,—he had the gentlemanly feeling never to allude to the past. We parted, when I went to India, on the best of terms. _ 2 Munkati’a—one cut off (from the pleasures and comforts of jlife). In Al-Hijaz, as in England, any allusion to poverty is highly joffensive. ) 3 The Koran expressly forbids a Moslem to discredit the word of any man who professes his belief in the Saving Faith. The greatest joffence of the Wahhabis is their habit of designating all Moslems that belong to any but their own sect by the opprobrious name-of Kafirs or infidels. This, however, is only the Koranic precept; in practice a much less trustful spirit prevails. £68 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. leave it pehind, I prayed five times a day for nearly a week. We all agreed not to lose an hour in securing places on board some vessel bound for Yambu’; and my com- panions, hearing that my passport as a British Indian was scarcely en rdgle, earnestly advised me to have it signed by the governor without delay, whilst they occupied themselves about the harbour. They warned me that if I displayed the Turkish Tazkirah given me at the citadel of Cairo, I should infallibly be ordered to await the cara- van, and lose their society and friendship. Pilgrims arriving at Alexandria, be it known to the reader, are divided into bodies, and distributed by nicans of passports to the three great roads, namely, Suez, Kusayr (Cosseir), and the Hajj route by land round the Gulf of al-’-Akabah. Aftér the division has once been made, government turns a deaf ear to the representations of individuals. The Bey of Suez has an order to obstruct pilgrims as much as possible till the end of the season, when they are hurried down that way, lest they should arrive at Meccah too late! As most of the Egyptian high officials have boats, which sail up the Nile laden with pilgrims and return freighted with corn, the government naturally does its utmost to force the delays and discomforts of this line upon strangers.” And as those who travel by the Hajj route must spend money in the Egyptian territories at least fifteen days longer than they would if allowed to 1 Towards the end of the season, poor pilgrims are forwarded gratis, by order of government. But, to make such liberality as inexpensive as possible, the Pasha compels ship-owners to carry one pilgrim per 9 ardebs (about 5 bushels each), in small, and 1 per 11 in large vessels. 2 I was informed by a Prussian gentleman, holding an official appointment under His Highness the Pasha, at Cairo, that 300,000 ardebs of grain were annually exported from Kusayr to Jeddah. The rest is brought down the Nile for consumption in Lower Egypt, and export to tiiru ve. TX .—Suez. 169 embark at once from Suez, the Bey very properly assists them in the former and obstructs them in the latter case. Knowing these facts, I felt that a difficulty was at hand. The first thing was to take Shaykh Nur’s passport, which was en végle, and my own, which was not, to the Bey for signature. He turned the papers over and over, as if unable to read them, and raised false hopes high by referring me to his clerk. The under-official at once saw the irregularity of the document, asked me why it had not been visé at Cairo, swore that under such circumstances nothing would induce the Bey to let me proceed; and, when I tried persuasion, waxed insolent. I feared that it would be necéssary to travel wid Cosseir, for which there was scarcely time, or to transfer myself on camel-back to the harbour of Tur, and there to await the chance of finding a place in some half-filled vessel to Al-Hijaz,—which would have been relying upon an acci- dent. My last hope at Suez was to obtain assistance from Mr. West, then H.B.M.’s Vice-Consul, and since made Consul. I therefore took the boy Mohammed with me, choosing him on purpose, and excusing the step to my companions by concocting an artful fable about my having been, in Afghanistan, a benefactor to the British nation. We proceeded to the Consulate. Mr. W tst, who ‘had been told by imprudent Augustus Bernal tv expect me, saw through the disguise, despite jargon assumed to satisfy official scruples, and nothing could be kinder than ‘the part he took. His clerk was directed to place himself ‘in communication with the Bey’s factotum; and, when ob- jections to signing the Alexandrian Tazkirah were offered, the Vice-Consul said that he would, at his own risk, give me a fresh passport as a British subject from Suez to ‘Arabia. His firmness prevailed: on the second day, the documents were returned to me in a satisfactory state. I take a pleasure in owning this obligation to Mr. West: in the course of my wanderings, I have often 170 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. received from him open-hearted hospitality and the most friendly attentions. } Whilst these passport difficulties were being solved, the rest of the party was as busy in settling about pas-| sage and passage-money. The peculiar rules of the port of Suez require a few words of explanation.’ ‘ About thirty-five years ago” (i.e. about 1818 a.p.), “the ship- owners proposed to the then government, with the view of keeping up freight, a Farzah, or system of rotation. It might be supposed that the Pasha, whose object noto- riously was to retain all monoplies in his own hanas, would have refused his sanction to such a measure. But it so happened in those days that all the court had ships at Suez: Ibrahim Pasha alone owned four or five. Consequently, they expected to share profits with the merchants, and thus to be compensated for the want of port-dues. From that time forward all the vessels in the harbour were registered, and ordered to sail in rotation. This arrangement benefits the owner of the craft ‘en départ,’ giving him in his turn a temporary monopoly, with the advantage of a full market; and freight is so high that a single trip often clears off the expense of building and the risk of losing the ship—a sensible succe- daneum for insurance companies. On the contrary, the public must always be a loser by the ‘Farzah.’ Two ol a trade do not agree elsewhere; but at Suez even the Christian and the Moslem shipowner are bound by a) fraternal tie, in the shape of this rotation system. It injures) the general merchant and the Red Sea trader, not only by 1 The account here offered to the reader was kindly supplied to me by Henry Levick, Esq. (late Vice-Consul, and afterwards Post-| master at Suez), and it may be depended upon, as coming from a resident of 16 years’ standing. All the passages marked with in- verted commas are extracts from a letter with which that gentleman favoured me. ‘The information is obsolete now, but it may be ‘interesting as a specimen of the things that were. . TX .—Suez. 171 perpetuating high freight,’ but also by causing at one period of the year a break in the routine of sales and in the supplies of goods for the great Jeddah market.? At this moment (Nov. 1853), the vessel to which the turn belongs happens to be a large one; there is a deficiency of export te Al-Hijaz,—her owner will of course wait any length of time for a full cargo; consequently no vessel with mer- chandise has left Suez for the last seventy-two days. Those who have bought goods for the Jeddah market at three months’ credit will therefore have to meet their acceptances for merchandise still warehoused at the Egyptian port. This strange contrast to free-trade principle is another proof that protection benefits only one party, the pro- tected, while it is detrimental to the interests of the other party, the public.” To these remarks of Mr. Levick’s, I have only to add that the government supports the Farzah with all the energy of protectionists. A letter from Mr. (now Sir) John Drummond Hay was insufficient to induce the Bey of Suez to break through the rule of rotation in favour of certain princes from Morocco. The recom- mendations of Lord Stratford de Redcliffe met with no better fate; and all Mr. West’s good will could not pro- 1 The rate of freight is at present (1853) about forty shillings per ton—very near the same paid by the P. and O. Company for coals carried from Newcastle vid the Cape to Suez. Were the ‘ Farzah”’ abolished, freight to Jeddah would speedily fall to 15 or 16 shillings per ton. Passengers from Suez to Jeddah are sometimes charged as much as 6 or even 8 dollars for standing room—personal baggage forming another pretext for extortion—and the higher orders of pilgrims, occupying a small portion of the cabin, pay about 12 dollars. These first and second class fares would speedily be reduced, by abolishing protection, to 3 and 6 dollars. Note to Second Edition.— The ‘‘ Farzah,” I may here observe, has been abolished by Sa'id Pasha since the publication of these lines: the effects of ‘free trade" are exactly what were predicted by Mr. Levick. 2 The principal trade from Suez is to Jeddah, Kusayr supplying Yambu’. ‘The latter place, however, imports from Suez wheat, beans, cheese, biscuit, and other provisions for return pilgrims, +. 172 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. cure me a vessel out of her turn.! We were forced ta rely upon our own exertions, and the activity of Sa’ad the Demon. This worthy, after sundry delays and differ- ences, mostly caused by his own determination to travel gratis, and to make us pay too much, finally closed with the owner of the ‘“‘ Golden Thread.?”” He took places for us upon the poop,—the most eligible part of the vessel at this season of the year; he premised that we should not be very comfortable, as we were to be crowded with Maghrabi pilgrims, but that ‘Allah makes all things easy!” Though not penetrated with the conviction that this would happen in our case, I paid for two deck passages eighteen Riyals*® (dollars), and my companions seven each, whilst Sa’ad secretly entered himself as an able seaman. Mohammed Shiklibha we were obliged to leave behind, as he could not, or might not afford the expense, and none of us might afford it for him. Had I known him to be the honest, true-hearted fellow he was—his kindness at Meccah quite won my heart—I should not have grudged the small charity. 1 My friends were strenuous in their exertions for me to make interest with Mr. West. In the first place, we should have paid less for the whole of a privileged vessel, than we did for our wretched quarters on the deck of the pilgrim-ship; and, secondly, we might have touched at any port we pleased, so as to do a little business in the way of commerce. 2 Afterwards called by Sir R. F. Burton the ‘Golden Wire.” —ED. 3 For the “Sath,” or poop, the sum paid by each was seven Riyals. I was, therefore, notably cheated by Sa’ad the Demon. The unhappy women in the ‘‘Kamrah,” or cabin, bought suffocation at the_rate of 6 dollars each, as I was afterwards informed, and the third class, in the ‘‘ Taht,” or amidships and forward, contributed from 3 to 5 Riyals. But, as usual on these occasions, there was no prix fixe; every man was either ovevcharged or undercharged, according to his means or his necessities. We had to purchase our own water, but the ship was to supply us with fuel for cooking. We paid nothing extra for luggage, and we mee an old Maghrabi woman graiis for gcod luck. ‘ . LheeSnezox r73 Nothing more comfortless than our days and nights in the “‘George”’ Inn. The ragged walls of our rooms were clammy with dirt, the smoky rafters foul with cob- webs, and the floor, bestrewed with kit, in terrible con- fusion, was black with hosts of cockroaches, ants, and flies. Pigeons nestled on the shelf, cooing amatory ditties the live-long day, and cats like tigers crawled through a hole in the door, making night hideous with their caterwaul- ings. Now a curious goat, then an inquisitive jackass, would walk stealthily into the room, remark that it was tenanted, and retreat with dignified demeanour, and the mosquitos sang Io Pans over our prostrate forms throughout the twenty-four hours. I spare the reader the enumeration of the other Egyptian plagues that infested the place. After the first day’s trial, we determined to spend the hours of light in the passages, lying upon our boxes or rugs, smoking, wrangling, and inspecting one -another’s chests. The latter occupation was a fertile source of disputes, for nothing was more common than for a friend to seize an article belonging to another, and to swear by the Apostle’s beard that he admired it, and, therefore, would not return it. The boy Mohammed and ~ Shaykh Nur, who had been intimates the first day, differed in opinion on the second, and on the third came to pushing each other against the wall. Sometimes we went into the Bazar, a shady street flanked with poor little shops, or we sat in the coffee-house,’ drinking hot saltish water tinged with burnt bean, or we prayed in one of three tumble-down old Mosques, or we squatted upon the pier, lamenting the want of Hammams, and bathing in _ the tepid sea. I presently came to the conclusion that 1 We were still at Suez, where we could do as we pleased. But respectable Arabs in theirdiwn country, unlike Egyptians, are seldom to be seen in the places of public resort. ‘‘Go to the coffee-house and sing there!’ is a reproach sometimes addressed to those who have a habit of humming in decent society. 2 It was only my prestige as physician that persuaded my friend 174 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meecah. Suez asa ‘“‘ watering-place”’ is duller even than Dover. The only society we found, excepting an occasional visitor, was that of a party of Egyptian women, who with their husbands and families occupied some rooms adjoining ours. At first they were fierce, and used bad language, when the boy Mohammed and I,—whilst Omar Effendi was engaged in prayer, and the rest were wandering about the town,—ventured to linger in the cool passage, where they congregated, or to address a facetious phrase to them. But hearing that I was a Hakim-bashi—for fame had promoted meto the rank ofa ‘“ Physician General” at Suez —all discovered some ailments. They began prudently with requesting me to display the effects of my drugs by dosing myself, but they ended submissively by swallow- ing the nauseous compounds. To this succeeded a primitive form of flirtation, which mainly consisted of the demand direct. The most charming of the party was one FattGmah’, a plump-personed dame, fast verging upon her thirtieth year, fond of a little flattery, and possessing, like all her people, a most voluble tongue. The refrain of every conversation was ‘“‘ Marry me, O Fattumah! O daughter! O female pilgrim!” In vain the lady would reply, with a coquettish movement of the sides, a toss of the head, and a flirting manipulation of her head-veil, to join me in these bathings. As a general rule, the Western Arabs avoid cold water, from a belief that it causes fever. When Mr. C. Cole, H.B.M.’s Vice-Consul, arrived at Jeddah, the people of the place, seeing that he kept up his Indian habits, advised him strongly to drop them. He refused; but unhappily he soon caught a fever, which confirmed them all in their belief. When Arabs wish to cool the skin after a journey, they wash witha kind of fuller’s earth called “Tafi,” or with a thin paste of henna, and then anoint the body with oil or butter. r An incrementative form of the name “ Fatimah,” very common in Egypt. Fatimah would mean a ‘ weaner ''—Fattimah, a ‘‘ great weaner.’’ By the same barbarism Khadijah becomes ‘‘ Khaddigah” ; — Aminah, ‘“‘Amminah”’; and Nafisah, ‘‘ Naffasah,”’ on the banks of the Nile. r 1X .—Suez. muy 175 “Tam mated, O young man!”—it was agreed that she, being a person of polyandrous propensities, could support the weight of at least three matrimonial engagements. Sometimes the entrance of the male Fellahs? interrupted these little discussions, but people of our respectability and nation were not to be imposed upon by such hus- bands. In their presence we only varied the style of conversation — inquiring the amount of ‘‘Mahr,” or marriage settlement, deriding the cheapness of woman- hood in Egypt, and requiring to be furnished on the spot with brides at the rate of ten shillings a head.2 More often the amiable Fattumah—the fair sex in this country, though passing frail, have the best tempers in the world— would laugh at our impertinences. Sometimes vexed by our imitating her Egyptian accent,. te reeta her ges- tures, and depreciating her country-women,® she would wax wroth, and order us to be gone, and stretch out her forefinger—a sign that she wished to put out our eyes, or adjure Allah to cut the hearts out of our bosoms. Then 1 The palmy days of the Egyptian husband, when he might use the stick, the sword, or the sack with impunity, are, in civilised places at least, now gone by. The wife has only to complain to the Kazi, or to the governor, and she is certain of redress. This is right in the abstract, but in practice it acts badly. The fair sex is so unruly in this country, that strong measures are necessary to coerce it, and in the arts of deceit men have here little or no chance against women. 2 The amount of settlement being, among Moslems as among Christians, the test of a bride’s value,—moral and physical,—it will readily be understood that our demand was more facetious than complimentary. 3 The term Misriyah (an Egyptian woman) means in Al-Hijaz -and the countries about it, a depraved character. Even the men own unwillingly to being Egyptians, for the free-born never forget that the banks of the Nile have for centuries been ruled by the slaves of slaves. ‘‘ Heshall becailed an Egyptian,” isa denunciation which has been strikingly fulfilled, though the country. be no longer the “basest of kingdoms. ‘ 176 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah, the “Marry me, O Fattumah, O daughter, O female pilgrim!” would give way to Y’al Ago-o-oz! (O old woman and decrepit !) ‘“‘O daughter of sixty sires, and fit only to carry wood to market !”—whereupon would burst a storm of wrath, at the tail of which all of us, like children, starting upon our feet, rushed out of one another’s way. But—* gui se dispute, s’adove”—when we again met all would be forgotten, and the old tale be told over de novo. This was the amusement of the day. At night we men, assembling upon the little terrace, drank tea, recited stories, read books, talked of our travels, and indulged in various pleasantries. The great joke was the boy Mohammed’s abusing all his companions to their faces in Hindustani, which none but Shaykh Nur and I could understand; the others, however, guessed his intention, and revenged themselves by retorts of the style un- courteous in the purest Hijazi. I proceed to offer a few more extracts from Mr. Levick’s letter about Suez and the Suezians. ‘It appears that the number of pilgrims who pass through Suez to Meccah has of late been steadily on the decrease. When I first came here (in 1838) the pilgrims who annually em- barked at this port amounted to between 10,000 and 12,000, the shipping was more numerous, and the mer- chants were more affluent. I have ascertained from a special register kept in the government archives that in the Moslem year 1268 (4.p. 1851-52) the exact number that passed through was 4893.” “In 1269 A. H, (A.D. 1852-53) it had shrunk to 3136, The natives assign the falling off to various causes, which 1 In those days merchants depended solely upon the native trade and the passage of pilgrims. The pecuniary advantage attending what is called the Overland transit benefits chiefly the lowest orders, camel-men, sailors, porters, and others of the same class. Sixteen years ago the hire of a boat from the harbour to the roadstead was a piastre and a half: now it is at least five. TX ,—Suez. ey) I attribute chiefly to the indirect effect of European civilisation upon the Moslem powers immediately in contact with it. The heterogeneous mass of pilgrims is composed of people of all classes, colours, and cos- tumes. One sees among them, not only the natives of countries contiguous to Egypt, but also a large proportion of Central Asians from Bokhara, Persia, Circassia, Turkey, and the Crimea, who prefer this route by way of Constantinople to the difficult, expensive and dangerous caravan-line through the Desert from Damascus and Baghdad. The West sends us Moors, Algerines, and Tunisians, and Inner Africa a mass of sable Takrouri,' and others from Bornou, the Sudan,? Ghadamah near the Niger, and Jabarti from the Habash.®” “The Suez ship-builders are an influential body of men, originally Candiots and Alexandrians. When Mo- hammed Ali fitted out his fleet for the Hijaz war, he transported a number of Greeks to Suez, and the children now exercise their fathers’ craft. There are at present three great builders at this place. Their principal diffi- 1 This word, says Mansfield Parkyns (Life in Abyssinia), is applied to the wandering filgvin from Darfar, Dar Borghi, Baydrimah, Fellatah, and Western Africa. He mentions, however, a tribe called “ Tokrouri,” settled in Abyssinia near Nimr’s country, but he does not appear to know that the ancient Arab settlement in Western Africa, ‘‘Al-Takrar,” (Sakatu ?) which has handed down its name to a large posterity of small kingdoms, will be found in Al-Idrisi (1. climate, 1. section,); but I do not agree with the learned translator in writing the word ‘'Tokrour.” Burckhardt often alludes in his benevolent way to the ‘respectable and industrious Tekrourys.”’ I shall have occasion to mention them at a future time. 2 The Sudan (Blackland) in Arabia is applied to Upper Nubia, Senaar, Kordofan, and the parts adjacent. 3 Not only in Ghiz, but also in Arabic, the mother of Ghiz, the word ‘‘ Habash,”’ whence our ‘‘ Abyssinians,’’ means a rabble, a mixture of people. Abyssinian Moslems are called by the Arabs * Jabarti.’ 178 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. culty is the want of material. Teak comes from India! vid Jeddah, and Venetian boards, owing to the expense of camel-transport, are a hundred per cent. dearer here than at Alexandria. Trieste and Turkey supply spars, and Jeddah canvas: the sail-makers are Suez men, and the crews a mongrel mixture of Arabs and Egyptians; the Rais, or captain, being almost invariably, if the vessel be a large one, a Yambu’ man. There are two kinds of craft, distinguished from each other by tonnage, not by build. The Baghlah? (buggalow), is a vessel above fifty tons burden, the Sambak (a classical term) from fifteen to fifty. The shipowner bribes the Amir al-Bahr, or port- captain, and the Nazir al-Safayn, or the captain com- manding the government vessels, to rate his ship as high as possible; if he pay the price, he will be allowed nine ardebs to the ton.’ The number of ships belonging to the port of Suez amounts to 92; they vary from 25 to 250 tons. The departures in a.H. 1269 (1852 and 1853) were 38, so that each vessel, after returning from a trip, is laid up for about two years. Throughout the passage of the pilgrims,—that is to say, during four months,—the departures average twice a week; during the remainder of the year from six to ten vessels may leave the port. The homeward trade is carried on principally in Jeddah bottoms, which are allowed to convey goods to Suez, but not to take in return cargo there: they must not interfere with, nor may they partake in any way of the benefits of the rotation system.‘” 1 There is no such thing as a tree, except the date, the rane and the mimosa on the western shores of the Red Sea. 2 This word, which in Arabic is the feminine form of “‘ Baghl,"", a mule, is in Egypt, as in India, pronounced and written by foreigners ‘“buggalow."’ Some worthy Anglo-Indians have further corrupted it to ‘‘ bungalow.” 3 ‘‘ The ardeb, like most measures in this country of commercia, confusion, varies greatly according to the grain for which it is ne As a general rule, it may be assumed at 300 lbs.” 4 Return Arab boats, at arty but the pilgrim season, with little al LX .—Suez. 179 _- “During the present year the imports were contained in 41,395 packages, the exports in 15,988. Specie makes up in some manner for this preponderance of imports: a sum of from £30,000 to £40,000, in crown, or Maria Theresa, dollars annually leaves Egypt for Arabia, Abyssinia, and other parts of Africa. I value the im- ports at about £350,000; the export trade to Jeddah at £300,000 per annum. The former consists principally of coffee and gum-arabic; of these there were respectively 17,460 and 15,132 bales, the aggregate value of each article being from £75,000 to £80,000, and the total amount £160,000. In the previous year the imports were contained in 36,840 packages, the exports in 13,498: of the staple articles—coffee and gum-arabic—they were respectively 15,499 and 14,129 bales, each bale being valued at about £5. Next in importance comes wax from Al-Yaman and the Hijaz, mother-of-pearl! from the Red Sea, sent to England in rough, pepper from Malabar, cloves brought by Moslem pilgrims from Java, Borneo, and Singapore,? cherry pipe-sticks from Persia and Bussora, and Persian or Surat ‘Timbak’ (tobacco). These I value at £20,000 per annum. There were also (a.pD. 1853) of cloves 708 packages, and of Malabar pepper 948: the cost of these two might be £7,000. Minor articles of exportation are,—general spiceries (ginger, car- difficulty obtain permission to carry passengers, but not cargo. Two gentlemen, in whose pleasant society I once travelled from Cairo to Suez,—M. Charles Didier and the Abbé Hamilton,—paid the small sum of 1000 piastres, (say £10) for the whole of a moderate ee * Sambuk " returning to Jeddah. 1 Mother-of-pearl is taken to Jerusalem, and there made into chaplets, saints’ figures, and crucifixes for Christian pilgrims. At Meccah it is worked into rosaries for the Hajis. In Europe, cabinet and ornamental work cause a considerable demand for it. Some good pearls are procurable in the Red Sea. I have seen a drop of fair size and colour sold for seven dollars. 2 I was told at Meccah that the pilgrimage is attended by about 2000 natives of Java and the adjoining islands. 180 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. damoms, &c.); Eastern perfumes, such as aloes-wood, attar of rose, attar of pink and others; tamarinds from India and Al-Yaman, Banca tin, hides supplied by the nomade Badawin, senna leaves from Al-Yaman and the Hijaz, and blue chequered cotton Malayahs (women’s mantillas), manufactured in southern Arabia. The total value of these smaller imports may be £20,000 per annum.” . ‘‘ The exports chiefly consist of English and native ‘grey domestics,’ bleached Madipilams, Paisley lappets, and muslins for turbands; the remainder being Manchester prints, antimony, Syrian soap, iron in bars, and comnion ironmongery, Venetian or Trieste beads, used as orna- ments in Arabia and Abyssinia, writing paper, Tar- bushes, Papushes (slippers), and other minor articles of dress and ornament.” ‘The average annual temperature of the year at Suez is 67° Fahrenheit. The extremes of heat and cold are found in January and August; during the former month the thermometer ranges from a minimum of 38° to a maximum of 68°; during the latter the variation extends from 68° to 102°, or even to 104°, when the heat becomes oppressive. Departures from these extremes are rare. I never remember to have seen the thermometer rise above 108° during the severest Khamsin, or to have sunk below 34° in the rawest wintry wind. Violent storms come up from the south in March. Kain is very variable’: 1 The following popular puerilities will serve to show how fond barbarians are of explaining the natural by the supernatural. The Moslems of Egypt thus account for the absence of St. Swithin from their drought-stricken lands. When Jacob lost his Benjamin, he cursed the land of Misraim, declaring that it should know no rain; Joseph on the other hand blessed it, asserting that it should never want water. So the Sind Hindus believe that Hiranyakasipu, the demon-tyrant of Multan, finding Magha-Raja (the Cloud King) trouble- some in his dominions, bound him with chains, and only released him upon his oath not to trouble the Unhappy Valley with his presence. TX .—Suez. | 181 soiietimes three years have passed without a shower, whereas in 1841 torrents poured for nine successive days, deluging the town, and causing many buildings to fall.” The population of Suez now numbers about 4,800. As usual in Mohammedan countries no census is taken here. Some therefore estimate the pogulation at 6,000. _ Sixteen years ago it was supposed to be under 3,000. After that time it rapidly increased till 1850, when a fatal attack of cholera reduced it to about half its previous number. The average mortality is about twelve a month. The endemic diseases are fevers of typhoid and inter- mittent types in spring, when strong northerly winds cause the waters of the bay to recede,? and leave a miasma-breeding swamp exposed to the rays of the sun. In the months of October and November febrile attacks are violent ; ophthalmia more so. The eye-disease is not so general here as at Cairo, but the symptoms are more acute; in some years it becomes a virulent epidemic, which ends either in total blindness or in a partial opacity of the cornea, inducing dimness of vision, and a permanent weakness of the eyes. In one month three of my acquaintances lost their sight. Dysenteries are also common, and so are bad boils, or rather ulcers. The cold season is not unwholesome, and at this period the I would suggest to those Egyptian travellers who believe that the fall of rain has been materially increased at Cairo of late, by plantations of trees, to turn over the volumes of their predecesors ; they will find almost every one complaining of the discomforts of rain. In Sind it appears certain that during the last few years there has been at times almost a monsoon ; this novel phenomenon the natives attribute to the presence of their conquerors, concerning whom it cannot be said that they have wooded the country to any extent. 1 This may appear a large mortality; but at Alexandria it is said © the population is renewed every fourteen years. 2 During these North winds the sandy bar is exposed, and allows men to cross, which may explain the passage of the Israelites, for those who do not believe the Legend to be a Myth. Similarly at Jed- dah, the bars are covered during the South and bare during the North winds. 182 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. pure air of the Desert restores and invigorates the heat- wasted frame.” | “The walls, gates, and defences of Suez areina ruinous state, being no longer wanted to keep out the Sinaitic Badawin. The houses are about 500 in number, but many of the natives prefer occupying the upper stories of the Wakalahs, the rooms on the ground floor serving for stores to certain merchandise, wood, dates, cotton, &c. The Suezians live well, and their bazar is abundantly stocked with meat and clarified butter brought from Sinai, and fowls, corn, and vegetables from the Sharkiyah province; fruit is supplied by Cairo as well as by the Sharkiyah, and wheat conveyed down the Nile in flood to the capital is carried on camel-back across the Desert. At sunrise they eat the Fatur, or breakfast, which in summer consists of a ‘ fatirah,’ a kind of muffin, or of bread and treacle. In winter it is more substan- tial, being generally a mixture of lentils and rice,! with clarified butter poured over it, and a ‘kitchen’ of pickled lime or stewed onions. At this season they greatly enjoy the ‘fal mudammas’ (boiled horse-beans),? eaten with an abundance of linseed oil, into which they steep bits of bread. The beans form, with carbon-generating matter, a highly nutritive diet, which, if the stomach can digest it,—the pulse is never shelled,—gives great strength. About the middle of the day comes ‘Al- Ghada,’ a light dinner of wheaten bread, with dates, onions or cheese: in the hot season melons and cool- 1 This mixture, called in India Kichhri, has become common in Al-Hijaz as well as at Suez. ‘ Al-Kajari’’ is the corruption, which denotes its foreign origin, and renders its name pronounceable to ‘Arabs. 2 Beans, an abomination to the ancient Egyptians, who were for- bidden even to sow them, may now be called the common “ kitchen” of the country. The Badawin, who believe in nothing but flesh, milk, and dates, deride the bean-eaters, but they do not consider the food so disgusting as onions. 1X.—Suer. 183 ing fruits are preferred, especially by those who have to face the sun. ‘Al-Asha,’ or supper, is served about half an hour after sunset ; at this meal all but the poorest - classes eat meat. Their favourite flesh, as usual in this part of the world, is mutton; beef and goat are little prized.” . The peopie of Suez are a finer and fairer race than the Cairenes. The former have more the ap- pearance of Arabs: their dress is more picturesque, their eyes are carefully darkened with Kohl, and they wear sandals, not slippers. They are, according to all accounts, a turbulent and somewhat fanatic set, fond of quarrels, and slightly addicted to ‘‘pronunciamentos.” The genetal programme of one of these latter diversions is said to be as follows. The boys will first be sent by their fathers about the town in a disorderly mob, and ordered to cry out ‘*Long live the Sultan!” with its usual sequel, ‘Death to the Infidels!” The Infidels, Christians or others, must hear and may happen to resent this; or possibly the governor, foreseeing a disturbance, orders an ingenuous youth or two to be imprisoned, or to be caned by the police. Whereupon some person, rendered in- fluentiai by wealth or religious reputation, publicly complains that the Christians are all in all, and that in these evil days Al-Islam is going to destruction. On this occasion the speaker conducts himself with such insolence, that the governor perforce consigns him to confinement, which exasperates the populace still more. Secret meet- ings are now convened, and in them the chiefs of corporations assume a prominent position. If the disturbance be intended by its main-spring to subside quictly, the conspirators are allowed to take their own way; they will drink copiously, become lions about midnight, and recover their hare-hearts before noon next , 1 Here concludes Mr. Levick’s letter. For the following observa- tions I alone am answerable. 184 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah ‘and Meccah. day. But if mischief be intended, a case of bloodshed is brought about, and then nothing can arrest the torrent of popular rage. The Egyptian, with all his good humour, merriment, and nonchalance, is notorious for doggedness, when, as the popular phrase is, his ‘ blood is up.” And this, indeed, is his chief merit as a soldier. He has a certain mechanical dexterity in the use of arms, and an Egyptian regiment will fire a volley as correctly as a battalion at Chobham. But when the head, and not the hands, is required, he notably fails. The reason of his superiority in the field is his peculiar stubborness, and this, together with his powers of digestion and o: enduring hardship on the line of march, is the quality that makes him terrible to his old conqueror, the Turk. 1 The government takes care to prevent bloodshed in the towns by disarming the country people, and by positively forbidding the carrying of weapons. Moreover, with a wise severity, it punishes all parties concerned in a quarrel, where blood is drawn, with a heavy fine and the bastinado de rigueur. Hence it is never safe, except asa European, to strike a man, and the Egyptians generally confine them- selves to collaring and pushing each other against the walls. Even in the case of receiving gross abuse, you cannot notice it as you would elsewhere. You must take two witnesses,—respectable men,—and prove the offence before the Zabit, who alone can punish the offender. 2 NoTE To Tuirp (1873) Epirion.—I revisited Suez in Septem- ber, 1869, and found it altered for the better. The population had risen from 6,000 to 20,000. The tumble-down gateway was still there, but of the old houses—including the “‘ George Inn,” whose front had been repaired—I recognised only four, and they looked mean by the side of the fine new buildings. In a few years ancient Suez will be no more. The bazars are not so full of filth and flies, now that pilgrims pass straight through and hardly even encamp. The sweet water Canal renders a Hammam possible; coffee is no longer hot saltish water, and presently irrigation will cover with fields and gardens the desert plain extending to the feet of Jabal Atakah. The noble works of the Canal Maritime, which should in justice be called _ the “‘ Lesseps Canal,"’ shall soon transform Clysma into a modern and civilised city. The railway station, close to the hotel, the new British hospital, the noisy Greek casino, the Frankish shops, the IX .—Suez. 185 puffing steamers, and the ringing of morning bells, gave me a novel impression. Even the climate has been changed by filling up the Timsch Lakes. Briefly, the hat is now at home in Suez. NoTE to FourtH (1879) Epirron.—The forecast in the last paragraph has not been fulfilled. I again visited Suez in 1877-78, and found that it had been ruined by the Canal leaving it out of line. In fact, another Suez is growing up about the ‘' New Docks,” while the old town is falling to pieces. For this and other Egyptian matters, see ‘‘ The Gold Mines of Midian” (by Sir Richard Burtc.1) CHAPIE RA THE PILGRIM SHIP. Tue larger craft anchor some three or four miles from the Suez pier, so that it is necessary to drop down: in a skiff or shore-boat. Immense was the confusion at the eventful hour of our departure. Suppose us gathered upon the beach, on the morning of a fiery July day, carefully watching our hurriedly-packed goods and chattels, surrounded by a mob of idlers, who are not too proud to pick up waifs and strays ; whilst pilgrims are rushing about apparently mad; and friends are weeping, acquaintances are vociferating adieux ; boatmen are demanding fees, shopmen are claim- ing debts; women are shrieking and talking with inconceiv- able power, and children are crying,—in short, for an hour or so we Stand in the thick of ahuman storm. To confound , confusion, the boatmen have moored their skiff half a dozen yards away from the shore, lest the porters should be unable to make more than double their fare from the — Hajis. Againthe Turkish women make a hideous noise, as they are carried off struggling vainly in brawny arms; the children howl because their mothers howl; and the men scold and swear, because in such scenes none may be silent. The moment we had embarked, each indi- vidual found that he or she had missed something of vital importance,—a pipe, a child, a box, or a water-melon; and raturally all the servants were in the bazars, when X.—The Pilgrim Ship. 187 they should have been in the boat. Briefly, despite the rage of the sailors, who feared being too late for a second trip, we stood for some time on the beach before putting off. _ From the shore we poled to the little pier, where sat the Bey in person to perform a final examination of our passports. Several were detected without the necessary document. Some were bastinadoed, others were peremp- torily ordered back to Cairo, and the rest were allowed to proceed. At about 104.M. (6th July) we hoisted sail, and ran down the channel leading to theroadstead. Onour way we had a specimen of what we might expect from our fellow- passengers, the Maghrabi.’ A boat crowded with these 1 Men of the Maghrab, or Western Africa; the vulgar plural is Maghrabin, generally written ‘‘ Mogrebyn."". May not the singular form of this word have given rise to the Latin ‘‘ Maurus,”’ by elision of the Ghayn, to Italians an unpronounceable consonant? From Maurus comes the Portuguese ‘‘ Moro,” and our ‘' Moor."" When Vasco de Gama reached Calicut, he found there a tribe of Arab colonists, who in religion and in language were the same as the people of Northern Africa,—for this reason hecalled them ‘‘ Moors." This was explained long ago by Vincent (Periplus, lib. 3), and lately by Prichard (Natural History of Man). I repeat it because it has been my fate to hear, at a meeting of a learned society in London, a gentleman declare, that in Eastern Africa he found a people calling themselves Moors. Maghrabin—Westerns,—then would be opposed to Sharkiyin, Easterns, the origin of cur ‘‘ Saracen.’’ From Gibbon downwards many have discussed the history of this word; but few expected in the nineteenth century to see a writer on Eastern subjects assert, with Sir John Mandeville, that these people ‘‘ properly, ben clept Sarrazins of Sarra.’’ The learned M. Jomard, who never takes such original views of things, asks a curious question :—'' Mais com- ment un son aussi distinct que le Chine oe aurait-il pu se confondre avec le Syn up et, pour un mot aussi connu que charg; comment aurait-on pu se tromper a l’omission des points?” Simply because the word Saracens came to us through the Greeks (Ptolemy uses it), who have no such sound as sh in their language, and through the Italian which, hostile to the harsh sibilants of Oriental dialects, generally melts sh down into s. So the historical word Hashshash- iyin—hemp-drinker,—civilised by the Italians Into ‘'assassino," 188 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. ruffians ran alongside of us, and, before we could organise a defence, about a score of them poured into our vessel. They carried things too with a high hand, laughed at us, and seemed quite ready to fight. My Indian boy, who happened to let slip the word ‘‘ Muarras,” narrowly escaped a blow with a palm stick, which would have felled a camel. They outnumbered us, and they were armed; so that, on this occasion, we were obliged to put up with their insolence. Our Pilgrim Ship, the Silk al-Zahab, or the ‘‘ Golden Wire,” was a Sambuk, of about 400 ardebs (fifty tons), with narrow, wedge-like bows, a clean water-line, a sharp keel, and undecked, except upon the poop, which was high enough to act as a sail in a gale of wind. She carried two masts, raking imminently forwards, the main being considerably larger than the mizzen; the former was provided with a huge triangular latine, very deep in the tack, but the second sail was unaccountably wanting. She had no means of reefing, no compass, no log, no sounding lines, no spare ropes, nor even the suspicion of a chart: in her box-like cabin and ribbed hold there was something which savoured of close connection between her model and that of the Indian Toni,’ or ‘*dug-out.” became, as all know, an expression of European use. But if any © one adverse to ‘etymological fancies’? objects to my deriving Maurus from ‘* Maghrab,” let him remember Johnson’s successfully tracing the course of the metamorphosis of ‘‘dies”’ into ‘‘jour.’’ An even more peculiar change we may discover in the word ‘ elephant.” “ Pilu” in Sanscrit, became ‘pil’ in old Persian, which ignores short final vowels; ‘fil,’ and, with the article, ‘‘ Al-fil,”” in Arabic, which supplies the place of p (an unknown letter to it), by f£; and elephas in Greek, which is fond of adding ‘‘as”’ to Arabic words, as in the cases of Aretas (Haris) and Obodas (Obayd). ‘‘A name,”’ says Humboldt, ‘‘often becoming a historical monument, and the etymological analysis of language, however it may be divided, is attended by valuable results.” i The Toni or Indian canoe is the hollowed-out trunk of a tree,-near Bombay generally a mango. It must have been the first © X.—The Pilgrim Ship. 189 Such, probably, were the craft which carried old Sesostris across the Red Sea to Deir; such were the cruisers which once every three years left Ezion-Geber for Tarshish; such the transports of which 130 were re- quired to convey A‘lius Gallus, with his 10,000 men. ‘‘ Bakhshish” was the last as well as the first odious sound I heard in Egypt. The owner of the shore-boat would not allow us to climb the sides of our vessel before paying him his fare, and when we did so, he asked for Bakhshish. If Easterns would only imitate the example of Europeans,—I never yet saw an Englishman give Bakhshish to a soul,—the nuisance would soon be done away with. But on this occasion all my companions complied with the request, and at times it is unpleasant to be singular. The first look at the interior of our vessel showed a hopeless sight; Ali Murad, the greedy owner, had promised to take sixty passengers in the hold, but had stretched the number to ninety-seven. Piles of boxes and luggage in every shape and form filled the ship from stem to stern, and a torrent of Hajis were pouring over the sides like ants into the East-Indian sugar-basin. The poop, too, where we had taken our places, was covered with goods, and a number of pilgrims had estab- lished themselves there by might, not by right. Presently, to our satisfaction, appeared Sa’ad the Demon, equipped as an able seaman, and looking most unlike the proprietor of two large boxes full of valuable merchandise. This energetic individual instantly pre- pared for action. With our little party to back him, he speedily cleared the poop of intruders and their stuff by the simple process of pushing or rather throwing them off it into the pit below. We then settled down as comfortably as we could; three Syrians, a married Turk with his wife and family, the Rais or captain of the vessel, step in advance from that simplest form of naval architecture, the Catamaran” of Madras and Aden. 190 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. with a portion of his crew, and our seven selves, com- posing a total of eighteen human beings, upon a space certainly not exceeding ten feet by eight. The cabin—a miserable box about the size of the poop, and three feet high—was stuffed, like the hold of a slave ship, with fifteen wretches, children and women, and the other ninety-seven were disposed upon the luggage or squatted on the bulwarks. Having some experience in such matters, and being favoured by fortune, I found a spare bed-frame slung to the ship’s side; and giving a dollar to its owner, a sailor—who flattered himself that, because it was his, he would sleep upon it,—I instantly appro- priated it, preferring any hardship outside, to the condition of a packed herring inside, the place of torment. | Our Maghrabis were fine-looking animals from the. deserts about Tripoli and Tunis; so savage that, but a few weeks ago, they had gazed at the cock-boat, and wondered how long it would be growing to the size of the ship that was to take them to Alexandria. Most of them were sturdy young fellows, round-headed, broad-shouldered, tall and large-limbed, with frowning eyes, and voices in a perpetual roar. Their manners were — rude, and their faces full of fierce contempt or insolent familiarity. A few old men were there, with countenances expressive of intense ferocity; women as savage and full _ of fight as men; and handsome boys with shrill voices, | and hands always upon their daggers. The women were mere bundles of dirty white rags. The males were clad in ‘*Burnus”—brown or striped woollen cloaks with — hoods ; they had neither turband nor tarbush, trusting to _ their thick curly hair or to the prodigious hardness of | their scalps as a defence against the sun; and there was _ not a slipper nor a shoe amongst the party. Of course all were armed; but, fortunately for us, none had any- thing more formidable than a cut-and-thrust dagger about ten inches long. These Maghrabis travel in hordes under — | X.—The Pilgrim Ship. | 191 ‘a leader who obtains the temporary title of ‘‘ Maula,”— the master. He has generally performed a pilgrimage or two, and has collected a stock of superficial information which secures for him the respect of his followers, and the profound contempt of the heaven-made Ciceroni of Meccah and Al-Madinah. No people endure greater hardships when upon the pilgrimage than these Africans, who trust almost entirely to alms and to other such dis- pensations of Providence. It is not therefore to be wondered at that they rob whenever an opportunity pre- sents itself. Several cases of theft occurred on board the ‘‘ Golden Wire’; and as such plunderers seldom allow themselves to be baulked by insufficient defence, they are accused, perhaps deservedly, of having committed some revolting murders. The first thing to be done after gaining standing- room was to fight for greater comfort; and never a Holyhead packet in the olden time showed a finer scene of pugnacity than did our pilgrim ship. A few Turks, ragged old men from Anatolia and Caramania, were ‘mixed up with the Maghrabis, and the former began the war by contemptuously elbowing and scolding their wild neighbours. The Maghrabis, under their leader, ‘‘ Maula Ali,” a burly savage, in whom I detected a ridiculous resemblance to the Rev. Charles Delafosse, an old and well-remembered schoolmaster, retorted so willingly that in a few minutes nothing was to be seen but a confused mass of humanity, each item indiscriminately punching and pulling, scratching and biting, butting and trampling, with cries of rage, and all the accompaniments of a proper fray, whatever was obnoxious to such operations. One of our party on the poop, a Syrian, somewhat incautiously leapt down to aid his countrymen by restoring order. He sank immediately below the surface of the living mass: and when we fished him out, his forehead was cut open, half his beard had disappeared, and a fine sharp set 192 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. Ce o1 teeth belonging to some Maghrabi had left their mark in the calf of his leg. The enemy showed no love of fair play, and never appeared contented unless five or six of them were setting upon a singleman. This made matters worse. ‘The weaker of course drew their daggers, and a few bad wounds were soon given and received. Ina few minutes five men were completely disabled, and the victors began to dread the consequences of their victory. Then the fighting stopped, and, as many could not find places, it was agreed that a deputation should wait upon Ali Murad, the owner, to inform him of the crowded state of the vessel. After keeping us in expectation at least three hours, he appeared in a row-boat, preserving a respectful distance, and informed us that any one who pleased might quit the ship and take back his fare. This left the case exactly as it was before; none would abandon his party to go on shore: so Ali Murad rowed off towards Suez, giving us a parting injunction to be good, and not fight; to trust in Allah, and that Allah | would make all things easy to us. His departure was the signal for a second fray, which in its accidents differed a little from the first. During the previous disturbance we kept our places with weapons in our hands. This time we were summoned by the Maghrabis to relieve their difficulties, by taking about half a dozen of them on the | poop. Sa’ad the Demon at once rose with an oath, and threw amongst us a bundle of « Nabbit goodly ashen staves six feet long, thick as a man’s wrist, well greased, and tried in many a rough bout. He shouted to us ‘Defend yourselves if you don’t wish to be the meat of. the Maghrabis!”’ and to the enemy— Dogs and sons of | dogs! now shall you see what the children of the Arab | are.” “Tam Omar of Daghistan!” “I am Abdullah the son of Joseph!” “Iam Sa’ad the Demon!” we ex- claimed, “ renowning it” by this display of name and- patronymic. To do our enemies justice, they showed no X.—The Pilgvim Ship. 193 sign of flinching; they swarmed towards the poop like angry hornets, and encouraged each other with cries of ‘ Allaho akbar!” But we had a vantage-ground about four feet above them, and their palm-sticks and short daggers could do nothing against our terrible quarter- staves. In vain the ‘‘ Jacquerie,” tried to scale the poop and to overpower us by numbers; their courage only secured them more broken heads. At first I began to lay on load with main morte, really fearing to kill some one with such a weapon; but it soon became evident that the Maghrabis’ heads and shoulders could bear and did require the utmost exertion of strength. Presently a thought struck me. A large earthen jar full of drinking water,'—in its heavy frame of wood the weight might have been 100 lbs.,—stood upon the edge of the poop, and the thick of the fray took place beneath. Seeing an opportunity, I crept up to the jar, and, without attracting attention, rolled it down by a smart push with the shoulder upon the swarm of assailants. The fall caused a shriller shriek to rise above the ordinary din, for heads, limbs, and bodies were sorely bruised by the weight, scratched by the broken potsherds, and wetted by the sudden discharge. A fear that some- thing worse might be coming made the Maghrabis slink off towards the end of the vessel. After a few minutes, we, sitting in grave silence, received a deputation of individuals in whity-brown Burnus, spotted and striped with what Mephistopheles calls a ‘‘ curious juice.” They solicited peace, which we granted upon the condition that they would:pledge themselves to keep it. Our heads, shoulders, and hands were penitentially kissed, and _pre- sently the fellows returned to bind up their hurts in dirty 1 In these vessels each traveller, unless a previous bargain be made, is expected to provide his own water and firewood. The best way, however, is, when the old wooden box called a tank is sound, to pay the captain for providing water, and to keep the key. VOL. I. H 194 — Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. rags. We owed this victory entirely to our own exer- tions, and the meek Omar was by far the fiercest of the party. Our Rais, as we afterwards learned, was an old fool who could do nothing but call for the Fatihah,’ claim Bakhshish at every place where we moored for the night, and spend his leisure hours in the ‘ Caccia del Mediterraneo.” ‘Our crew consisted of half a dozen Egyptian lads, who, not being able to defend themselves, were periodically chastised by the Maghrabis, especially when any attempt was made to cook, to fetch water, or to prepare a pipe.” At length, about 3 p.m. on the 6th July, 1853, we shook out the sail, and, as it bellied in the favourable wind, we recited the Fatihah with upraised hands which we afterwards drew down our faces. As the ‘* Golden Wire” started from her place, I could not help casting one wistful look upon the British flag floating over the Consulate. But the momentary regret was stifled by the heart-bounding which prospects of an adventure excite, and by the real pleasure of leaving Egypt. I had lived there a stranger in the land, and a hapless life it hac peen: in the streets every man’s face, as he looked upor the Persian, was the face of a foe. Whenever I came ir contact with the native officials,‘ insolence marked the 1 The ‘ opener’’—the first chapter of the Koran, which Mos: lems recite as Christians do the Lord's Prayer; it is also used or occasions of danger, the beginnings of journeys, to bind contracts, &c 2 These Maghrabis, like the Somalis, the Wahhabis of the desert, and certain other barbarous races, unaccustomed to tobacco, appeared to hate the smell of a pipe. 3 The hands are raised in order to catch the blessing that is sup. posed to descend from heaven upon the devotee; and the meaning o drawing the palms down the face is symbolically to transfer the bene diction to every part of the body. 4 Asis the case under all despotic governments, nothing can be more intentionally offensive than the official manners of a superior tc his inferior in Egypt. The Indians charge their European fellow subjects with insolence of demeanour and coarseness of langtvage AX.—The Pilgrim Ship. 195 event; and the circumstance of living within hail of my fellow-countrymen, and yet finding it impossible to enjoy their society, still throws a gloom over the memory of my first sojourn in Egypt. _ The ships of the Red Sea—infamous region of rocks, reeis, and shoals—cruise along the coast by day, and at night lay-to in the first cove they find; they do not sail when it blows hard, and as in winter time the weather is ‘often stormy and the light of day does not last long, the ‘voyage is intolerably slow. At sunset we stayed our adventurous course; and, still within sight of Suez, com- fortably anchored under the lee of Jabal Atakah, the ** Mountain of Deliverance,?” the butt-end of Jabal Joshi. We were now on classic waters. The Eastern shore was dotted with the little grove of palm-trees which clusters around the Uyun Musa, or Moses’ Wells; and on the west, between two towering ridges, lay the mouth of the valley (Badiyah, or Wady Tawarik, or Wady Musa) down which, according to Father Sicard,° the Israelites fled to As far as my experience goes, our roughness and brusquerie are mere politeness compared with what passes between Easterns. At the same time it must be owned that I have seen the worst of it. 1 It was far safer and more expeditious in Al-Adrisi’s day (a.p. 1154), when the captain used to sit on the poop “furnished with numerous and useful instruments’’; when he “sounded the shallows, and by his knowledge of the depths could direct the helmsman where to steer.” 2 In the East it is usual, when commencing a voyage or a journey, to make a short day’s work, in order to be at a convenient distance for returning, in case of any essential article having been forgotten. _ 3 A Jesuit missionary who visited the place in a.p. 1720, and described it in a well-known volume. As every eminent author, |however, monopolises a ‘crossing,’ and since the head of the Suez creek, as is shown by its old watermark, has materially changed within no very distant period, it is no wonder that the question is still sub judice, and that there it will remain most probably till the end of time. The Christians have two equally favourite lines: the Mos- lems patronise one so impossible, that it has had attractions enough 196 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah, the Sea of Sedge.!’ The view was by no means deficient in a sort of barbarous splendour. Verdure there was none, but under the violet and orange tints of the sky the chalky rocks became heaps of topazes, and the brown-burnt ridges masses of amethyst. The rising mists, here silvery white, there deeply rosy, and the bright blue of the waves,’ lining long strips of golden sand, compensated for the want of softness by a semblance of savage gorgeous- ness. | Next morning (7th July), before the cerulean hue had vanished from the hills, we set sail. It was not long before we came to a proper sense of our position. The box con- taining my store of provisions, and, worse still, my opium, was at the bottom of the hold, perfectly un- approachable; we had, therefore, the pleasure of break- ing our fast on “ Mare’s skin,’* and a species of biscuit, hard as a stone and quite as tasteless. During the day, whilst insufferable splendour reigned above, the dashing) of the waters below kept my nest in a state of perpetual drench. At night rose a cold, bright moon, with dews falling so thick and clammy that the skin felt as though it would never be dry again. Itis, also, by no means pleas- to fix their choice. It extends from Zafaran Point to Hammam Bluffs, ten miles of deep water. 1 The Hebrew name of this part of the Red Sea. Ina communi- cation lately made to the Royal Geographical Society, I gave my reasons for believing that the Greeks borrowed their Erythraean Sea from the Arabic ‘‘ Sea of Himyar.”’ 2 Most travellers remark that they have never seen a brighter blue than that of the Red Sea. It was the observation of an early age that ‘‘the Rede Sea is not more rede than any other sea, but in| some place thereof is the gravelle rede, and therefore men clepen it the Rede Sea.” 3 Jild al-Faras (or Kamar al-Din), a composition of apricot paste, dried, spread out, and folded into sheets, exactly resembling the article after which it is named. Turks and Arabs use it when travel- ling; they dissolve it in water, and eat it as a relish with bread or biscuit Ee ata Do Re OY mia atin X.—The Pilgvim Ship. 197 ant to sléep upon a broken cot about four feet long by two broad, with the certainty that a false movement would throw you overboard, and a conviction that if you do fall | from a Sambuk under sail, no mortal power can save'you. And as under all circumstances in the East, dozing is : one’s chief occupation, the reader will understand that the want of it left me in utter, utter idleness. The gale was light that day, and the sunbeams were fire ; our crew preferred crouching in the shade of the sail to taking advantage of what wind there was. In spite of our impatience we made but little way. near evening time we anchored on a tongue of sand, about two miles distant from the well-known and picturesque heights called by the Arabs Hammam Faraitn,’ which —‘ like giants stand To sentinel enchanted land." The strip of coarse quartz and sandstone gravel is ob- viously the offspring of some mountain torrent; it stretches southwards, being probably disposed in that direction by the currents of the sea as they receive the deposit. The distance of the ‘‘Hammam Bluffs” pre- vented my visiting them, which circumstance I regretted the less as they have been described by pens equal to the task. That evening we enjoyed ourselves upon clean sand, whose surface, drifted by the wind into small yellow waves, was easily converted by a little digging and heap- ing up, into the coolest and most comfortable of couches. Indeed, after the canescent heat of the day, and the ‘tossing of our ill-conditioned vessel, we should have ‘been contented with lodgings far less luxurious. Fuel was readily collected, and while some bathed, others 1 ‘' Pharaoh’s hot baths,"’ which in our maps are called ‘‘ Hum- mum Bluffs.” They are truly ‘“‘enchanted land" in Moslem fable: a volume would scarcely contain the legends that have been told and written about them. (See Note 1, p. ro, ante.) 198 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. erected a hearth—three large stones and a hole open to leeward—lit the fire and put the pot on to boil. Shaykh Nur had fortunately a line; we had been successful in fishing; a little rice also had been bought; with this boiled, and rock-cod broiled upon the charcoal, we made a dinner that caused every one to forget the sore griev- ance of ‘‘Mare’s skin” and stone-hard biscuit. A few Maghrabis had ventured on shore, the Rais having terrified the others by threatening them with those ‘“‘ bogies,” the Badawin—and they offered us Kuskusu! in exchange for fish. As evening fell, we determined, before sleeping, to work upon their “morale” as effec- tually as we had attacked their physique. Shaykh Hamid stood up and indulged them with the Azan, or call to prayers, pronounced after the fashion of Al- Madinah.? They performed their devotions in lines ranged behind us as a token of respect, and when wor- ship was over we were questioned about the Holy City till we grew tired of answering. Again our heads and shoulders, our hands and knees,’ were kissed, but this time in devotion, not in penitence. My companions could scarcely understand half the rugged words which the Maghrabis used,* as their dialect was fresh from the 1 One of the numerous species of what the Italians generally call ‘‘ Pasta.’’ The material is wheaten or barley flour rolled into small round grains. In Barbary it is cooked bysteaming, and served up with hard boiled eggs and mutton, sprinkled with red pepper. These Badawi Maghrabis merely boiled it. 2 The Azan is differently pronounced, though similarly worded by every orthodox nation in Al-Islam. 3 The usual way of kissing the knee is to place the finger tips upon it, and then to raise them to the mouth. It is an action denoting great humility, and the condescending superior who is not an immediate master returns the compliment in the same way. : 4 The Maghrabi dialect is known to be the harshest and most guttural form of Arabic. It owes this unenviable superiority to its frequency of ‘‘Sukun,"’ or the quiescence of one or more conson- ants ;—'' K’lab,"’ for instance, for ‘‘ Kilab,"" and “\'Msik"’ ior “ Amsik." X.—The Pilgrim Ship. | 199 distant Desert. Still we succeeded in making ourselves jn- telligible to them, vaunting our dignity as the Sons of the Prophet, and the sanctity of our land which should protect its children from every description of fraud and violence. We benignantly promised to be their guides at Al-Madinah, and the boy Mohammed would conduct their devotions at Meccah, always provided that they re- pented their past misdeeds, avoided any repetition of the Same, and promised to perform the duties of good and faithful pilgrims. Presently the Rais joined our party, and the usual story-telling began. The old man knew the name of each hill, and had a legend for every nook and corner in sight. He dwelt at length upon the life of Abu Zulaymah, the patron saint of these seas, whose little tomb stands at no great distance from our bivouac place, and told us how he sits watching over the satety of pious mariners in a cave among the neighbouring rocks, and sipping his coffee, which is brought in a raw state from Meccah by green birds, and prepared in the usual way by the hands of ministering angels. He showed us the spot where the terrible king of Egypt, when close upon the heels of the children of Israel, was whelmed in the “hell of waters,’”’ and he warned us that next day our way would be through breakers, and reefs, and dan- gerous currents, over whose troubled depths, since that awful day, the Ifrit of the storm has never ceased to flap his sable wing. The wincing of the hearers proved that the shaft of the old man’s words was sharp; but as night was advancing, we unrolled our rugs, and fell asleep upon the sand, all of us happy, for we had fed and drunk, and ‘Thus it is that vowels, the soft and liquid part of language, disappear, leaving in their place a barbarous sounding mass of consonants. 1 Burckhardt mentions the Arab legend that the spirits of the drowned Egyptians may be seen moving at the bottom of the sea, and Finati adds that they are ever busy recruiting their numbers witb shipwrecked mariners. 200 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. —the homo sapiens is a hopeful animal—we made sure that on the morrow the Ifrit would be merciful, and allow us to eat fresh dates at the harbour of Tur. | Fair visions of dates doomed to the Limbo of things which should have been! The grey dawn (8th July) looked down upon us in difficulties. The water is deep near this coast; we had anchored at high tide close to the shore, and the ebb had left us high anddry. When this fact became apparent, a storm was upon the point of breaking. The Maghrabis, but for our interference, would have bas- tinadoed the Rais, who, they said with some reason, ought to have known better. When this phase of feeling passed away, they applied themselves to physical efforts. All except the women and children, who stood on the shore encouraging their relatives with shrill quaverings, threw themselves into the water; some pushed, others applied their shoulders to the vessel’s side, and all used their lungs with might and main. But the “Golden Wire” was firmly fixed, and their exertions were too ir- regular, Muscular force failed, upon which they changed their tactics. At the suggestion of their “‘ Maula,” they prepared to burn incense in honour of the Shaykh Abu Zulaymah. The material not being forthcoming, they used coffee, which perhaps accounts for the shortcomings of that holy man. After this the Rais remembered that their previous exertions had not begun under the auspices of the Fatihah. Therefore they prayed, and then re- applied themselves to work. Still they failed. Finally, each man called aloud upon his own particular saint or spiritual guide, and rushed forward as if he alone sufficed for the exploit. Shaykh Hamid unwisely quoted the name, and begged the assistance, of his great ancestor, the ‘“ Claritied-Butter-Seiler”; the obdurate ‘Golden Wire” was not moved, and Hamid retired in rete confusion. It was now about nine a.m., and the water had risen. X.—The Pilgrim Ship. 20% considerably. My morning had been passed in watching the influx of the tide, and the grotesque efforts of the Maghrabis. When the vessel showed some symptoms of unsteadiness, I arose, walked gravely up to her, ranged the pilgrims around her with their shoulders to the sides, and told them to heave with might when they heard me invoke the revered name of my patron saint. I raised my hands and voice; ‘Ya Piran Pir! Ya Abd al-Kadir Jilani?” was the signal. Each Maghrabi worked like an Atlas, the ‘Golden Wire” canted half over, and, sliding heavily through the sand, once more floated off into deep water. This was generally voted a minor miracle, and the Effendi was respected—for.a day or two. The wind was fair, but we had all to re-embark, an operation which went on till noon. After starting I re- marked the natural cause which gives this Birkat Faraun— ‘‘Pharaoh’s Bay,”—a bad name. Here the gulf narrows; and the winds, which rush down the clefts and valleys of the lofty mountains on the Eastern and Western shores, meeting tides and counter-currents, cause a perpetual commotion. That day the foam-tipped waves repcatedly washed over my cot, by no means diminishing its dis- comforts. In the evening, or rather late in the afternoon, we anchored, to our infinite disgust, under a ridge of rocks, behind which lies the plain of Tur. The Rais deterred all from going on shore by terrible stories about the Badawin that haunt the place, besides which there was no sand to sleep upon. We remained, therefore, on board that night; and, making sail early the next morning, we threaded through reefs and sand-banks about noon into the intricate and dangerous entrance of Tur. Nothing can be meaner than the present appearance of the old Pheenician colony, although its position as a a ee t I thus called upon a celebrated Sufi or mystic, whom many East-Indian Mosilems_reverence.as the Arabs do their Prophet. In Appendix 1. the curious reader will find. Abd al-Kadir again mentioned 202 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and M eccah, harbour, and its plentiful supply of fruit and fresh water, make it one of the most frequented places on the coast. The only remains of any antiquity—except the wells—are the fortifications which the Portuguese erected to keep out the Badawin. The little town lies upon a plain that stretches with a gradual rise from the sea to the lofty mountain-axis of the Sinaitic group. The country around reminded me strongly of maritime Sind; a flat of clay and sand. clothed with sparse turfs of Salsole, and bearing strong signs of a (geologically speaking) recent origin. The town is inhabited principally by Greek and other Christians,’ who live by selling water and provisions to ships. A fleecy cloud hung lightly over the majestic head of Jabal Tur, about eventide, and the outlines of the giant hills stood “ picked out ” from the clear blue sky. Our Rais, weather-wise man, warned us that these were indications of a gale, and that, in case of rough weather, he did not intend to leave Tur. I was not sorry to hear this. We had passed a pleasant day, drinking sweet water, and eabing the dates, grapes, and ‘pomegranates, which the people of the place carry down to the beach for the benefit of hungry pilgrims. Besides which, there were various sights to see, and with these we might profitably spend the morrow. We therefore pitched the tent upon the sand, and busied ourselves with 1 Those people are descendants of Syrians and Greeks that fled from Candia, Scios, the Ionian Islands, and Palestine to escape the persecutions of the Turks. They now wear the Arab dress, and speak the language of the country, but they are easily to be distin- guished from the Moslems by the expression of their countenances and sometimes by their blue eyes and light hair. There are also a few families calling themselves Jabaliyah, or mountaineers. Origin- ally they were 100 households, sent by Justinian to serve the convent of St. Catherine, and to defend it against the Berbers. Sultan Kansuh al-Ghori, called by European writers Campson Gaury, the Mamluk King of Egypt, in a.D. 1501, admitted these people into the Moslem community on condition of their continuing the menial service they bad afforded to the monks. X.—The Pilgrim Ship. 203 extricating a box of provisions: the labour was rendered lighter by the absence of the Maghrabis, someof whom were wandering about the beach, whilst others had gone off to fill their bags with fresh water. We found their surliness insufferable; even when we were passing from poop to forecastle, landing or boarding, they grumbled forth their dissatisfaction. Our Rais was not mistaken in his prediction. The fleecy cloud on Tur’s tops had given true warning. When morning (9th July) broke, we found the wind strong, and the sea white withfoam. Most of us thought lightly of these terrors, but our valorous captain swore that he dared not for his life cross in such a storm the mouth of ill-omened Akabah. We breakfasted, therefore, and afterwards set out to visit Moses’ Hot Baths, mounted on wretched donkeys with pack-saddles, ignorant of stirrups, and with- out tails, whilst we ourselves suffered generally from boils, which, as usual upon a journey, make their appearance in localities the most inconvenient. Our road lay north- ward across the plain towards a long narrow strip of date ground, surrounded by a ruinous mud wall. After a ride of two or three miles, we entered the gardens, and came suddenly upon the Hammam. It is a prim little Cockney bungalow, built by Abbas Pasha of Egypt for his own accommodation; glaringly whitewashed, and garnished with diwans and calico curtains.of a gorgeous hue. The guardian had been warned of our visit, and was present to supply us with bathing-cloths and other necessaries. One by one we entered the cistern, which is now in an inner room. The water is about four feet deep, warm jn winter, cool in summer, of a saltish-bitter taste, but celebrated for its invigorating qualities, when applied externally. On one side of the calcareous rock, near the ground, is the hole opened for the spring by Moses’ rod, which must have been like the ‘‘mast of some tall 204 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. Ammiral!”; and near it are the marks of Moses’ nails— deep indentations in the stone, which were probably left there by some extinct Saurian. Our Cicerone informed us that formerly the finger-marks existed, and that they were long enough for a man to lie in. The same func- tionary attributed the sanitary properties of the spring to the blessings of the Prophet, and, when asked why Moses had not made sweet water to flow, informed us that the Great Lawgiver had intended the spring for bathing in, not for drinking. We sat with him, eating the small yellow dates of Tur, which are delicious, melting like honey in the mouth, and leaving a surpassing arviéve gout. After finishing sundry pipes and cups of coffee, we gave the bath-man a few piastres, and, mounting our donkeys, | started eastward for the Bir Musa,? which we reached in half an hour. It is a fine old work, built round and domed over with roughly squared stones, very like what may be Seen in some rustic parts of Southern England. The) sides of the pit were so rugged that a man could climb down them, and at the bottom was a pool of water, sweet and abundant. We had intended to stay there, and to dine al fresco, but the hated faces of our companions, the Maghrabis, meeting us at the entrance, nipped that pro- ject in the bud. Accordingly we retired from the burning 1 Adam’s “forehead (says the Tarikh Tabari) brushed the skies, but this height being inconvenient, the Lord abridged it to t100 cubits. The Moslems firmly believe in Anakim. Josephus informs us that Moses was of ‘divine form and great tallness”’; the Arabs specify his stature,—300 cubits. They have, moreover, found his | grave in some parts of the country S.E, of the Dead Sea, and make cups of a kind of bitumen called ‘‘ Moses’ Stones.’’ This people nescit ignorave—it will know everything. 2 ‘*Moses’ Well.”” Ihave no argument except the untrustworthy traditions of the Badawin, either for or against this having been the identical well near which Moses sat when he fled from the face of Pharaoh to the land of Midian. One thing is certain, namely, that in this part of Arabia, as also at Aden, the wells are of a very ancient — date X.—The Pilgrim Ship. | 205 sun toa neighbouring coffee-house—a shed of palm leaves kept by a Tur man, and there, seated on mats, we demolished the contents of our basket. Whilst we were eating, some Badawin came in and joined us, when invited so to do. They were poorly dressed, and all armed with knives and cheap sabres, hanging to leathern ‘bandoleers: in language and demeanour they showed few remains of their old ferocity. As late as Mohammed Ali’s time these people were noted wreckers, and formerly they were dreaded pirates: now they are lions with their fangs and claws drawn. In the even, when we returned to our tent, a Syrian, one of our party on the poop, came out to meet us with the information that several large vessels had arrived from Suez, comparatively speaking, empty, and that the cap- tain of one of them would land us at Yambw’ for three dollars a head. The proposal was tempting. But presently it became apparent that my companions were unwilling to shift their precious boxes, and moreover, that I should have to pay for those who could not or would not pay for themselves,—that is to say, for the whole party. As sucha display of wealth would have been unadvisable, I dismissed the idea with a sigh. Amongst the large vessels was one freighted with Persian pilgrims, a most disagreeable race of men on a journey or a voyage. They would not land at first, because they feared the Badawin. They would not take water from the town people, because some of these were Christians. More- over, they insisted upon making their own call to prayer, which heretical proceeding—it admits five extra words— our party, orthodox Moslems, would rather have died than have permitted. When their crier, a small wizen- faced man, began the Azan with a voice ‘‘in quel tenore Che fa il cappon quando talvolta canta,”’ we received it with a shout of derision, and some, hastily 206 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. snatching up their weapons, offered him an opportunity of martyrdom. The Maghrabis, too, hearing that the Persians were Rafaz (heretics) crowded fiercely round to doa little Jihad, or Fighting for the Faith. The long- bearded men took the alarm. They were twice ‘the number of our small party, and therefore they had been in the habit of strutting about with nonchalance, and looking at us fixedly, and otherwise demeaning themselves in an indecorous way. But when it came to the point, they showed the white feather. These Persians accompanied us to the end of our voyage. As they approached the Holy Land, visions of the ““Nabbut” caused a change for the better in. their manners. At Mahar they meekly endured a variety of insults, and at Yambu’ they cringed to us like dogs. | | GHAPPEER: XI. TO YAMBU. On the rrth July, 1853, about dawn, we left Tur, after a pleasant halt, with the unpleasant certainty of not touching ground for thirty-six hours. I passed the time in steadfast contemplation of the web of my umbrella, and in making the following meteorological remarks. Morning.—The air is mild and balmy as that of an Italian spring ; thick mists roll down the valleys along the sea, and a haze like mother-o’-pearl crowns the head- lands. The distant rocks show Titanic walls, lofty don- jons, huge projecting bastions, and moats full of deep shade. At their base runs a sea of amethyst, and as earth receives the first touches of light, their summits, almost transparent, mingle with the jasper tints of the sky. Nothing can be more delicious than this hour. But as ‘les plus. belles choses Ont le pire destin,”’ so lovely Morning soon fades. The sun bursts up from behind the main, a fierce enemy, a foe that will force every one to crouch before him. He dyes the sky orange, and the sea “‘incarnadine,” where its violet surface is stained by his rays, and he mercilessly puts to flight the mists and haze and the little agate-coloured masses of cloud that were before floating in the firmament. The atmosphere is sO clear that now and then a planet is visible. For the two “ -—-- ~ 208 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. hours following sunrise the rays are endurable; after that © they become a fiery ordeal. The morning beams oppress you with a feeling of sickness; their steady glow, re- flected by the glaring waters, blinds your eyes, blisters your skin, and parches your mouth: you now become a monomaniac; you do nothing but count the slow hours that must “‘ minute by” before you can be relieved. Midday.—The wind, reverberated by the glowing hills is like the blast of a lime-kiln. All colour melts away with the canescence from above. ‘The sky is a dead milk-white, and the mirror-like sea so reflects the tint that you can scarcely distinguish the line of the horizon. After noon the wind sleeps upon the reeking shore ; there is a deep stillness; the only sound heard is the melan- choly flapping of the sail. Men are not so much sleeping | as half-senseless; they feel as if a few more degrees of heat would be death. Sunset.—The enemy sinks behind the deep cerulean sea, under a canopy of gigantic rainbow which covers ~ half the face of heaven. Nearest to the horizon is an arch of tawny orange; above it another of the brightest gold, and based upon these a semi-circle of tender sea- green blends with a score of delicate gradations into the sapphire sky. Across the rainbow the sun throws its rays in the form of giant wheel-spokes tinged with a beautiful pink. The Eastern sky is mantled with a purple flush that - picks out the forms of the hazy Desert and the sharp-cut_ Hills. Language is a thing too cold, too poor, to express the harmony and the majesty of this hour, which is as evanescent, however, as it is lovely. Night falls rapidly, when suddenly the appearance of the Zodiacal Light? re- 1 The reader who has travelled in the East will feel that I am not exaggerating. And to convince those who know it only by descrip- tion, I will refer them to any account of our early campaigns in Sind, where many a European soldier has been. taken up stone dead: after slecping an hour or two in the nate sun. 2 The Zodiacal Light ed Red. Sea, and in Bombay, i is fay X!I.—To Yambu. 209 ‘stores the scene to what it was. Again the grey hills and ‘the grim rocks become rosy or golden, the palms green, the sands saffron, and the sea wears a lilac surface of dimpling waves. But after a quarter of an hour all fades once more; the cliffs are naked and ghastly under the ‘moon, whose light falling upon this wilderness of white crags and pinnacles is most strange—most mysterious. Night.—The horizon is all darkness, and the sea reflects the white visage of the night-sun as in a mirror of steel. Inthe air we see giant columns of pallid light, distinct, based upon the indigo-coloured waves, and standing with their heads lost in endless space. The stars glitter with exceeding brilliance.* At this hour are “river and hill and wood, With all the numberless goings on of life, Inaudible as dreams "; while the planets look down upon you with the faces of smiling friends. You feel the ‘sweet influence of the Pleiades.” You are bound by the ‘‘bond of Orion.” Hes- perus bears with him a thousand things. In communion with them your hours pass swiftly by, till the heavy dews warn you to cover up your face and sleep. And with one look at a certain little Star in the north, under which lies all that makes life worth living through—surely it is a venial superstition to sleep with your eyes towards that Kiblah!—you fall into oblivion. Those thirty-six hours were a trial even to the hard- headed Badawin. ‘The Syrian and his two friends fell ill. Omar Effendi, it is true, had the courage to say his brighter than in England. I suppose this is the ‘ after-glow' described by Miss Martineau and other travellers: ‘ flashes of light like coruscations of the Aurora Borealis in pyramidal form" would exactly describe the phenomenon. It varies, however, greatly, and often for some days together is scarcely visible. _4 Niebuhr considers that the stars are brighter in Norway than ‘in the Arabian deseris ; 1 never saw them so bright as on the Neil- gherry hills 210 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. sunset prayers, but the exertion so altered him that he looked another man. Salih Shakkar in despair ate dates till threatened with a dysentery. Sa’ad the Demon had rigged out for himself a cot three feet long, which, arched over with bent bamboo, and covered with cloaks, he had slung on to the larboard side; but the loud grumbling which | _proceeded from his nest proved that his precaution had not been a cure. Even the boy Mohammed forgot to chatter, to scold, to smoke, and to make himself gen- erally disagreeable. The Turkish baby appeared to be dying, and was not strong enough to wail. How the poor mother stood her trials so well, made every one wonder. The most pleasant trait in my companions’ characters was the consideration they showed to her, and their attention to her children. Whenever one of the party drew forth a little delicacy—a few dates or a pomegranate—they gave away a share of it to the children, and most of them took their turns to nurse the baby. This was genuine politeness—kindness of heart. It would be well for those who sweepingly accuse Easterns of want of gallantry, to contrast this trait of character with the savage scenes of civilisation that take place among the ‘ Overlands” at Cairo and Suez.! No foreigner could be present for the first time without bearing away the lasting impression that the sons of Great Britain are model barbarians.” On board the “ Golden Wire” Salih Shakkar was the sole base exception to the general geniality of my com- panions. As the sun starts towards the West, falling harm- lessly upon our heads, we arise, still faint and dizzy, calling for water—which before we had not the strength Tish i doe Bit Se a ae ee 1 Written in the days of the vans, which preceded the Railway. 2 On one occasion I was obliged personally to exert myseif to -prevent a party of ladies being thrust into an oid and bad tracsit- van: the ruder sex having stationed itself at some distance from tbe starting-place in order to seize upon the best. Lid yrade XI.—To Yambu'. ati to drink—and pipes, and coffee, and similar luxuries. Our primitive kitchen is a square wooden box, lined with clay, and filled with sand, upon which three or four large stones are placed to form a hearth. Preparations are now made for the evening meal, which is of the simplest description. A little rice, a few dates, or an onion, will keep a man alive in our position ; a single “ good dinner ” would justify long odds against his seeing the next even- ing. Moreover, it is impossible in such cases to have an appetite—fortunately, as our store of provisions is a scanty one. Arabs consider it desirable on a journey to eat hot food once in the twenty-four hours; so we determine to cook, despite all difficulties. The operation, however, is by no means satisfactory ; twenty expectants surround the single fire, and there is sure to be a quarrel amongst them every five minutes. As the breeze, cooled by the dew, begins to fan our parched faces, we recover our spirits amazingly. Songs are sung; tales are told; and rough jests are bandied about till, not unfrequently, Oriental sensitiveness is sorely tried. Or, if we see the prospect of storm or calm, we draw forth, and piously peruse, a ‘‘ Hizb al-Bahr.”’ As this prayer is supposed to make all safe upon the ocean wave, I will not selfishly withhold it from the British reader. To draw forth all its virtues, the reciter should receive it from the hands of his Murshid or spiritual guide, and study it during the Chillah, or forty days of fast, of which, I venture to observe, few Sons of Bull are capable. *O Allah, O Exalted, O Almighty, O All-pitiful, O All-powerful, Thou art my God, and sufficeth to me the knowledge of it! Glorified be the Lord my Lord, and glorified be the Faith my Faith! Thou givest Victory to whom Thou pleasest, and Thou art the Glorious, the Merciful! We pray Thee for Safety in our goings forth and pur standings still, in our Words and our Designs, in our 212 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. Dangers of Temptation and Doubt, and the secret Designs — of our Hearts. Subject unto us this Sea, even as Thou didst subject the Deep to Musa” (Moses), ‘‘and as Thou didst subject the Fire to Ibrahim?” (Abraham), ‘‘ and as Thou didst subject the Iron to Datid?” (David), ‘‘and as” Thou didst subject the Wind and the Devils and Jinnis and Mankind to Sulayman®” (Solomon), ‘‘and as Thou didst subject the Moon and Al-Burak to Mohammed, upon whom be Allah’s Mercy and His Blessing! And subject unto us all the Seas in Earth and Heaven, in Thy visible and in Thine invisible Worlds, the Sea of this Life, and the Sea of Futurity. O Thou who reignest over every- thing, and unto whom all Things return, Khyas! Khyas! - Khyas‘!” And lastly, we lie down upon our cribs, wrapped up in thickly padded cotton coverlets ; we forget the troubles of the past day, and we care nought for the discomforts of that to come. Late on the evening of the 11th July we passed in sight of the narrow mouth of Al-’Akabah, whose famosi vupes are a terror to the voyagers of these latitudes. Like the Gulf of Cambay, here a tempest is said to be always brewing, and men raise their hands to pray as they cross it. We had no storm that day from without, but a fierce one was about to burst within our ship. The essence of Oriental discipline is personal respect based upon fear. Therefore it often happens that the commanding officer, 1 Abraham, for breaking his father’s idols, was cast by Nimrod into a fiery furnace, which forthwith became a garden of roses. (See Chapter xxi. of the Koran, called ‘‘ the Prophets.’’) 2 David worked as an armourer, but the steel was as wax in his hands. 3 Solomon reigned over the three orders of created beings: the fable of his flying carpet is well known. (See Chapter xxvii. of the Koran, called ‘the Ant.”’) - . 4 These are mystic words, and entirely beyond the’ reach of dic- tionaries and vocabularies. X1I.—~-To Yambu’. 213 if a mild old gentleman, is the last person whose com- mand is obeyed,—his only privilege being that of sitting apart from his inferiors. And such was the case with our Rais. On the present occasion, irritated by the refusal of the Maghrabis to stand out of the steerman’s way, and excited by the prospect of losing sight of shore for a whole day, he threatened one of the fellows with his slipper. It required all our exertions, even to a display of the dreaded quarter-staves, to calm the consequent ex- citement. After passing Al-’Akabah, we saw nothing but sea and sky, and we spent a weary night and day tossing upon the waters, our only exercise; every face bright- ened as, about sunset on the 12th July, we suddenly glided into the mooring-place. Marsa (anchorage) Damghah,' or rather Dumayghah, is scarcely visible from the sea. An islet of limestone rock defends the entrance, leaving a narrow passage to the south. It is not before he enters that the mariner discovers the extent and the depth of this creek, which indents far into the land, and offers 15 to 20 feet of fine clear anchorage which no swell can reach. Inside it looks more like a lake, and at night its colour is gloriously blue as Geneva itself. I could not help calling to mind, after dinner, the old school lines— “Est in secessu longo locus; insula portum Efficit objectu laterum ; quibus omnis ab alto Frangitur, inque sinus scindit sese unda reductos. Nothing was wanted but the ‘“‘ atrum nemus.” Where however, shall we find such luxuries in arid Arabia ? The Rais, as usual, attempted to deter us from land- ing, by romancing about the ‘*‘ Bedoynes and Ascopards,”’ representing them to be ‘“folke ryghte felonouse and foule and of cursed kynde.” To which we replied by shouldering our Nabbuts and scrambling into the cock- 1 In Moresby’s Survey, ‘‘Sherm Demerah,” the creek of De« merah. Ali Bey calls it Demeg. 2i4 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah aud Meccah. boat. On shore we saw a few wretched-looking beings, Juhaynah! or Hutaym, seated upon heaps of dried wood, which they sold to travellers; and three boat-loads of Syrian pilgrims who had preceded us. We often envied them their small swift craft, with their double latine sails disposed in ‘‘ hare-ears”’ which, about eventide in the far distance, looked like a white gull alighting upon the purple wave; and they justified our jealousy by arriving at Yambu’ two days before us. The pilgrims had bivouacked upon the beach, and were engaged in drinking their after- dinner coffee. They received us with all the rights of hospitality, as natives of Al-Madinah should everywhere be received ; we sat an hour with them, ate a little fruit, satisfied our thirst, smoked their pipes, and when taking leave blessed them. Then returning to the vessel we fed, — and lost no time in falling asleep. The dawn of the next day saw our sail flapping in the idle air. And it was not without difficulty that in the course of the forenoon we entered Wijh Harbour, distant from Dumayghah but very few miles. Al-Wijh is also a natural anchorage, in no way differing from that where we passed the night, except in being smaller and shallower and less secure. From this place to Cairo the road is safe. The town is a collection of round huts meanly built of round stones, and clustering upon a piece of elevated rock on the northern side of the creek. It is 1 See ‘“‘The Land of Midian (Revisited)"’ for a plan of Al- Dumayghah, and a description of Al-Wijh (al-Bahr) These men of the Beni Jahaynah, or ‘‘Juhaynah” tribe—the ‘ Beni Kalb,” as they are also called,—must not be trusted. They extend from the plains north of Yambu’ into the Sinaitic Peninsula. They boast no connection with the great tribe Al-Harb; but they are of noble race, are celebrated for fighting, and, it is said, have good horses. The specimens we saw at Marsa Dumayghah were poor ones, they had few clothes, and no arms except the usual Jambiyah (crooked dagger). By their civility and their cringing style of address it was easy to seo they had been corrupted by intercourse with strangers. X1I.—To Yambu’. - 215 distant about six miles from the inland fort of the same name, which receives the Egyptian caravan, and which thrives, like its port, by selling water and provisions to pilgrims. The little bazar, almost washed by every high tide, provided us with mutton, rice, baked bread, and the other necessaries of life at a moderate rate. Luxuries also were to be found: a druggist sold me an ounce of opium at a Chinese price. With reeling limbs we landed at Al-Wijh,' and find- ing a large coffee-house above and near the beach, we installed ourselves there. But the Persians who preceded us had occupied all the shady places outside, and were correcting their teeth with their case knives; we were forced to content ourselves with the interior. It was a building of artless construction, consisting of little but a roof supported by wooden posts, roughly hewn from date trees: round the tamped earthen floor ran a raised bench of unbaked brick, forming a diwan for mats and sleeping- rugs. Inthe centre a huge square Mastabah, or platform, answered a similar purpose. Here and there appeared attempts at long and side walls, but. these superfluities had been allowed to admit daylight through large gaps. In ‘one corner stood the apparatus of the “ Kahwahji,” an altar-like elevation, also of earthen-work, containing a hole for a charcoal fire, upon which were three huge coffee- pots dirtily tinned. Near it were ranged the Shishas, or Egyptian hookahs, old, exceedingly unclean, and worn by age and hard work. A wooden framework, pierced with circular apertures, supported a number of porous earthen- ware gullehs (gargoulettes, or monkey jars) full of cold, sweet water; the charge for each was, as usual in Al- Hijaz, five paras. Such was the furniture of the café, and the only relief to the barrenness of the view was a fine mellowing atmosphere composed of smoke, steam, ge Po ee ee ee Oe eee 1 It is written Wish and Wejh; by Ali Bey Vadjch and Wadjih ; Wodjeh and Wosh by Burckhardt ; and Wedge by Moresby. - 216 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. flies, and gnats in about equal proportions. I have been diffuse in my description of the coffee-house, as it was a type of its class: from Alexandria to Aden the traveller — will everywhere meet with buildings of the same kind. Our happiness in this Paradise—for such it was to us after the “Golden Wire ’’—was nearly sacrificed by Sa’ad the Demon, whose abominable temper led him at once into a quarrel with the master of the café. And the latter, an ill-looking, squint-eyed, low-browed, broad-shouldered fellow, showed himself nowise unwilling to meet the Demon half way. The two worthies, after a brief bandying of bad words, seized each other’s throats leisurely, so as to give the spectators time and encourage- ment to interfere. But when friends and acquaintances were hanging on to both heroes so firmly that they could not move hand or arm, their wrath, as usual, rose, till it was terrible to see. The little village resounded with the war, and many a sturdy knave rushed in, sword or cudgel in hand, so as not to lose the sport. During the heat of the fray, a pistol which was in Omar Effendi’s hand went off—accidentally of course—and the ball passed so close to the tins containing the black and muddy Mocha, that it drew the attention of all parties. As if by magic, the storm was lulled. A friend recog-— nised Sa’ad the Demon, and swore that he was no black slave, but a soldier at Al-Madinah—‘‘ no waiter, but a Knight Templar.” This caused him to be looked upon as rather a distinguished man, and he proved his right to the honour by insisting that his late enemy should feed with him, and when the other decorously hung back, by drag- ging him to dinner with loud cries. My alias that day was severely tried. Besides the Persian pilgrims, a number of nondescripts who came in the same vessel were hanging about the coffee-house; lying down, smoking, drinking water, bathing and pick- ing their teeth with their daggers. One inquisitive man XI.—To Yambu’. 217 was always at my side. He called himself a Pathan (Afghan settled in India); he could speak five or six languages, he knew a number of people everywhere, and hehad travelled far and wide over Central Asia. These fel- lows are always good detectors of anincognito. I avoided answering his question about my native place, and after telling him that I had no longer name or nation, being a Darwaysh, I asked him, when he insisted upon my having been born somewhere, to guess for himself. To my joy he claimed me for a brother Pathan, and in course of conversation he declared himself to be the nephew of an Afghan merchant, a gallant old man who had been civil to me at Cairo. We then sat smoking together with ‘effusion.” Becoming confidential, he complained that he, a Sunni, or orthodox Moslem, had been abused, mal- treated, and beaten by his fellow-travellers, the heretical Persian pilgrims. I naturally offered to arm my party, to take up our cudgels, and to revenge my compatriot. This thoroughly Sulaymanian style of doing business could not fail to make him sure of his man. He declined, however, wisely remembering that he had nearly a fortnight of the Persians’ society still to endure. But he promised him- self the gratification, when he reached Meccah, of sheathing his Charay? in the chief offender’s heart. At 8 a.m. on the 14th July we left Al-Wijh, after pass- ing a night, tolerably comfortable by contrast, in the coffee- house. We took with us the stores necessary, for though our Rais had promised to anchor under Jabal Hassani that evening, no qne believed him. We sailed among ledges of rock, golden sands, green weeds, and in some places through yellow lines of what appeared to me at a distance foam after a storm. All day a sailor sat upon the mast- head, looking at the water, which was transparent as blue glass, and shouting out the direction. This precaution was somewhat stultified by the roar of voices, which never 1 The terrible Afghan knife. 218 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. failed to mingle with the warning, but we wore every half hour, and we did not run aground... About midday we passed by Shaykh Hasan al-Marabit’s tomb. It is the usual domed and whitewashed building, surrounded by the hovels of its guardians, standing upon a low flat island of yellow rock, vividly reminding me of certain scenes in Sind. Its dreary position attracts to it the attention of passing travellers; the dead saint has a prayer and a Fatihah for the good of his soul, and the live sinner wends his way with religious refreshment. | Near sunset the wind came on to blow freshly, and _ we cast anchor together with the Persian pilgrims upon a rock, This was one of the celebrated coral reefs of the Red Sea, and the sight justified Forskal’s emphatic de- scription—luxus lususque nature. It was a huge ledge or platform rising but little above the level of the deep; the water-side was perpendicular as the wall of a fort; and, whilst a frigate might have floated within a yard of it, every ripple dashed over the reef, replenishing the little basins and hollows in the surface. The colour of the © waves near it was a vivid amethyst. In the distance the eye rested upon what appeared to be meadows of brilliant flowers resembling those of earth, only far brighter and more lovely. Nor was this Land of the Sea wholly deso- late. Gulls and terns here swam the tide;. there, seated upon the coral, devoured their prey. In the air, troops of birds contended noisily for a dead flying fish,’ and in the deep water they chased a shoal, which, in fright and hurry to escape the pursuers, veiled the surface with 1 These the Arabs, in the vulgar tongue, call Jarad al-Bahr, ‘‘ sea locusts’’; as they term the shrimp Burghat al-Bahr, or the sea-flea. Such compound words, palpably derived from land objects, prove the present Ichthyophagi and the Badawin living on the coast to be a race originally from the interior. Pure and ancient Arabs still have at least one uncompounded word to express every object familiar to them, and it is in this point that the genius of the language chiefly shows itself. | XI.—To Yambu’. 219 spray and foam. Andas night came on the scene shifted, displaying fresh beauties. Shadows clothed the back- ground, whose features, dimly revealed, allowed full scope to the imagination. In the forepart of the picture lay the sea, shining under the rays of the moon with a metallic lustre; while its border, where the wavelets dashed upon the reef, was lit by what the Arabs call the ‘jewels of the deep?’’—brilliant flashes of phosphoric light giving an idea of splendour which Art would vainly strive to imitate. Altogether it was a bit of fairyland, a spot for nymphs and sea-gods to disport upon: you might have heard, without astonishment, old Proteus calling his flocks with the writhed conch; ‘and Aphrodite seated in her shell would have been only a fit and proper climax for its love- liness. But—as philosophically remarked by Sir Cauline the Knyghte— “Every whyte must have its blacke, And every sweete its soure— ”’ this charming coral reef was nearly being the scene of an ugly accident. The breeze from seaward set us slowly but steadily towards the reef, a fact of which we soon became conscious. Our anchor was not dragging; it had not rope enough to touch the bottom, and vainly we sought for more. In fact the ‘*Golden Wire” was as disgracefully deficient in all the appliances of safety, as any English merchantman in the nineteenth century,—a circumstance which accounts for the shipwrecks and for the terrible loss of life perpetually occurring about the Pil- grimage-season in these seas. Had she struck upon the razor-like edges of the coral-reef, she would have melted 1 The Arab superstition is, that these flashes of light are jewels made to adorn the necks and hair of the mermaids and mermen. When removed from their native elements the gems fade and dis- appear. If I remember right, there is some idea similar to this among the Scotch, and other Northern people. 220 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. ~ away like a sugar-plum in the ripple, for the tide was: rising at thetime. Having nothing better to do, we began to make as much noise as possible. Fortunately for us, the Rais commanding the Persian’s boat was an Arab — from Jeddah; and more than once we had treated him with great civility. Guessing the cause of our distress, he sent two sailors overboard with a cable; they swam gallantly up to us; and ina few minutes we were safely moored to the stern of our useful neighbour. Which done, we applied ourselves to the grateful task of beating our Rais, and richly had he deserved it. Before noon, when the wind was shifting, he had not once given himself the trouble to wear; and when the breeze was falling, he preferred dosing to taking advantage of what little wind remained. With energy we might have been moored that night comfortably under the side of Hassani Island, instead of floating about on an unquiet sea with a lee- shore of coral-reef within a few. yards of our counter. At dawn the next day (15th July) we started. We made Jabal Hassani’ about noon, and an hour or so before sunset we glided into Marsa Mah4r. Our rest- ing-place resembled Marsa Dumayghah at an humble distance; the sides of the cove, however, were bolder and more precipitous. The limestone rocks presented a peculiar appearance; in some parts the base and walls had crumbled away, leaving a coping to pro- ject like a canopy; in others the wind and rain had cut deep holes, and pierced the friable material with caverns that looked lke the work of art. There was a pretty opening of backwood at the bottom of the 1 The word Jabal will frequently occur in these pages. It is applied by the Arabs to any rising ground or heap of rocks, and, therefore, must not always be transiated ‘‘ Mountain.” In the latter sense, it has found its way into some of the Mediterranean dialects. Gibraltar is Jabal al-Tarik, and “‘ Mt. Ethne that men clepen Mounte Gybelle” is “Monte Gibello,”—the mountain, par excellence. XI.—To Yambu’. 221 cove; and palm trees in the blue distance gladdened our eyes, which pined for the sight of something green. The Rais, as usual, would have terrified us with a description of the Hutaym tribe that holds these parts, and I knew from Welsted and Moresby that it is a debased race. But forty-eight hours of cramps on board ship would -make a man think lightly of a much more imminent danger. Wading to shore we cut our feet with the sharp rocks, I remember to have felt the acute pain of some- thing running into my toe: but after looking at the place and extracting what appeared to be a bit of thorn,! I dis- missed the subject, little guessing the trouble it was to give me. Having scaled the rocky side of the cove, we found some half-naked Arabs lying in the shade; they were unarmed, and had nothing about them except their villainous countenances wherewith to terrify the most timid. These men still live in limestone caves, like the Thamud tribe of tradition; also they are Ichthyophagi, existing without any other subsistence but what the sea affords. They were unable to provide us with dates, flesh, or milk, but they sold usa kind of fish called in India ‘¢ Bui”: broiled upon the embers, it proved delicious. After we had eaten and drunk and smoked, we began to make merry; and the Persians, who, fearing to come on shore, had kept to their conveyance, appeared proper butts for the wit of some of our party: one of us stood up and pronounced the orthodox call to prayer, after which the rest joined in a polemical hymn, exalting the virtues 1 It was most probably a prickle of the ‘ egg-fruit,” or Echinus, sO common in these seas, generally supposed to be poisonous. I found it impossible to cure my foot in Al-Hijaz, and every remedy seemed to make it worse. ‘This was as much theeffect of the climate _ of Arabia, as of the hardships and privations of a pilgrimage. After my return to Egypt in the autumn, the wound healed readily with- out medical treatment. g22 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. and dignity of the first three Caliphs.*. Then, as general on such occasions, the matter was made personal by | informing the Persians in a kind of rhyme sung by the Meccan gamuins, that they were the “slippers of Ali and the dogs of Omar.” But as they were too frightened to reply, my companions gathered up their cooking utensils, and returned to the ‘*Golden Wire,” melancholy, like disappointed candidates for the honours of Donnybrook. Our next day was silent and weary, for we were all surly, and heartily sick of being on board ship. We should have made Yambw’ in the evening but for the laziness of the Rais. Having duly beaten him, we anchored on the open coast, insufficiently protected by a reef, and almost in sight of our destination. In the distance rose Jabal Radhwah or Radhwa,? one of the “‘ Mountains of Paradise*” in which honoured Arabia abounds. It is celebrated by poetry as well as by piety. ‘*Did Radhwah strive to support my woes, Radhwah itself would be crushed by the weight,’ says Antar.‘ It supplies Al-Madinah with hones. I heard much of its valleys and fruits and bubbling springs, - but afterwards I learned to rank these tales with the super- stitious legends which are attached to it. Gazing at its bare and ghastly heights, one of our party, whose wit — was soured by the want of fresh bread, surlily remarked that such a heap of ugliness deserved ejection from heaven,—an irreverence too public to escape general denunciation. We waded on shore, cooked there, and 1 Abu Bakr, Omar, and Osman. 2 I have found both these forms of writing the word in books; Moresby, or rather Mr. Rassam, erroneously spells it ‘‘ Ridwah.” 3 In a future chapter, when describing a visit to Mt. Ohod, near Al-Madinah, I shall enter into some details about these ‘‘ Mountains of Paradise.” 4 The translator, however, erroneously informs us, in a foot- note, that Radhwah is a mountain near Meccah. ww X1I.—To Yambu’. | 223 passed the night; we were short of fresh water, which, combined with other grievances, made us as surly as bears. Sa’ad the Demon was especially vicious; his eyes gazed fixedly on the ground, his lips protruded till you might have held up his face by them, his mouth was gar- ‘nished with bad wrinkles, and he never opened it but he grumbled out a wicked word. He solaced himself that evening by crawling slowly on all-fours over the boy Mohammed, taking scrupulous care to place one knee upon the sleeper’s face. The youth awoke in a fiery rage: we all roared with laughter; and the sulky Negro, after savouring the success of his spite, grimly, as but half satisfied, rolled himself, like a hedgehog, into a bail; and, resolving to be offensive even in his forgetfulness, snored violently all night. We slept upon the sands and arose before dawn (July 17), determined to make the Rais start in time that day. A slip of land separated us from.our haven, but the. wind was foul, and by reason of rocks and shoals, we had to make a considerable détour. It was about noon on the twelfth day after our departure from Suez, when, after slowly beating up the narrow creek leading to Yambu’ harbour, we sprang into a shore-boat and felt new life when bidding an eternal adieu to the vile “‘Golden Wire.” I might have escaped much of this hardship and suffering by hiring a vessel to myself. There would then have been a cabin to retire into at night, and shade from the sun; moreover, the voyage would have lasted five, not twelve, days. But I wished to witness the scenes on board a pilgrim ship,—scenes so much talked of by the Moslem palmer home-returned. Moreover, the hire was exorbitant, ranging from £40 ito £50, and it would have led toa greater expenditure, as the man who can afford to take a boat must pay in proportion during his land 224 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. journey. In these countries you perforce go on as you begin: to ‘break one’s expenditure,” that is to say, to reitrench expenses, is considered all but impossible. We have now left the land of Egypt. | CHAPTER XII. THE HALT AT YAMBU’, Tue heat of the sun, the heavy dews, and the fre- quent washings of the waves, had so affected my foot, that on landing at Yambu’ I could scarcely place it upon the ground. But traveller’s duty was to be done; so, leaning upon my “‘slave’s” shoulder, I started at once to see the town, whilst Shaykh Hamid and the others of our party proceeded to the custom-house. ‘Yanbu’a al-Bahr, Yambuw’ or Fountain of the Sea,} identified, by Abyssinian Bruce, with the Iambia village of Ptolemy, is a place of considerable importance, and shares with others the title of ‘Gate of the Holy City.” t is the third quarter of the caravan road? from Cairo to Meccah; and here, as well as at Al-Badr, pilgrims fre- quently leave behind them, in hired warehouses, goods too heavy to be transported in haste, or too valuable to risk in dangerous times. Yambu’ being the port of Al- 1 Yanbu’a in Arabic is ‘‘a Fountain.” Yanbu’a of the Sea is so called to distinguish it from ‘‘ Yanbu’a of the Palm-Grounds,” a village at the foot of the mountains, about 18 or 20 miles distant from the sea-port. epey places it one day’s journey E.4.N.E. from Yanbu’a al-Bahr, ahd describes it as a pleasant place in a fertile valley. It is now known as Yambu’a al-Nakhil. See ‘‘The Land of Midian (Revisited).”’ 2 The first quarter of the Cairo caravan is Al-Akabah ; the second is the Manhal Salmah (Salmah’s place for watering camels) ; the third is Yambu’; and the fourth Meccah. WOL, I. t 226 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. Madinah, as Jeddah is of Meccah, is supported by a considerable transport trade and extensive imports from the harbours on the Western coasts of the Red Sea; it supplies its chief town with grain, dates, and henna. Here the Sultan’s dominion is supposed to begin, whilst the authority of the Pasha of Egypt ceases; there is no Nizam, or Regular Army, however, in the town,’ and the governor is a Sharif or Arab chief. I met him in the great bazar; he is a fine young man of light complexion and the usual high profile, handsomely dressed, with a - Cashmere turband, armed to the extent of sword and dagger, and followed by two large, fierce- mae Negro. slaves leaning upon enormous Nabbuts. The town itself is in no wise remarkable. Built on the edge of a sunburnt plain that extends between the mountains and the sea, it fronts the northern extremity of a narrow winding creek. Viewed from the harbour, it is a long line of buildings, whose painful whiteness is set off by a sky-like cobalt and a sea-like indigo; behind it lies the flat, here of a bistre-brown, there of a lively tawny; whilst the background is formed by dismal Radh- wah, ‘‘ Barren and bare, unsightly, unadorned.” Outside the walls are a few little domes and tombs, which by no means merit attention. Inside, the streets are wide; and each habitation -is placed at an unsociable distance from its neighbour, except near the port and the bazars, where ground is valuable. The houses are roughly built of limestone and coralline, and their walls a of fossils crumble hike almond cake; they have huge 1 The Nizam, as Europeans now know, is the regular Turkish iafantry. In Al-Hijaz, these troops are not stationed in small towns like Yambu’. At such places a party of Irregular horse, for the pur- pose of escorting travellers, is deemed sufficient. The Yambu’ police seems to consist of the Sharif’s sturdy negroes. In Ali Bey’s time Yambu’ belonged to the Sharif ef Meccah, and was garrisoned by hima. XII.—The Halt at Yambu’. 227 hanging windows, and look mean after those in the Mos- lem quarters of Cairo. There is a ‘‘Suk,” or market- street of the usual form, a long narrow lane darkened by a covering of palm leaves, with little shops let into the walls of the houses on both sides. The cafés, which abound here, have already been described in the last chapter; they are rendered dirty in the extreme by travel- lers, and it is impossible to sit in them without a fan to drive away the flies. The custom-house fronts the land- ing-place upon the harbour; it is managed by Turkish officials,—men dressed in Tarbushes, who repose the live- long day upon the Diwans near the windows. In the case of us travellers they had a very simple way of doing business, charging each person of the party three piastres for each large box, but by no means troubling themselves to meddle with the contents.’ Yambu’ also boasts of a Hammam or hot bath, a mere date-leaf shed, tenanted by an old Turk, who, with his surly Albanian assistant, lives by “cleaning” pilgrims and travellers. Some whitc- ~washed Mosques and Minarets of exceedingly simple form, -a Wakalah or two for the reception of merchants, and a saint’s tomb, complete the list of public buildings. In one point Yambu’ claims superiority over most other towns in this part of Al-Hijaz. Those who can afford the luxury drink sweet rain-water, collected amongst the hills in tanks and cisterns, and brought on camel- back to the town. Two sources are especially praised, the Ayn al-Birkat and the Ayn Ali, which suffice to supply the whole population: the brackish water of the wells is confined to coarser purposes. Some of the old people here, as at Suez, are said to prefer the drink to which 1 This, as far as I could learn, is the only tax which the Sultan’s government derives from the northern Hijaz ; the people declare it to be, as one might expect at this distance from the capital, liable to gross peculation. When the Wahhabis held Yambu’, they assessed it, like all other places; for which reason their name is held in the liveliest abhorrence. 228 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. years of habit have accustomed them, and it isa standing joke that, arrived at Cairo, they salt the water of the Nile to make it palatable. The population of Yambu’—one of the most bigoted and quarrelsome races in Al-Hijaz—strikes the eye after arriving from Egypt, as decidedly a new feature. The Shaykh or gentleman is over-armed and over-dressed, as Fashion, the Tyrant of the Desert as well as of the Court, dictates to a person of his consequence. The civilised traveller from Al-Madinah sticks in his waist-_ shawl a loaded pistol,! garnished with crimson silk cord, but he partially conceals the butt-end under the flap of his jacket. The Irregular soldier struts down the street a small armoury of weapons: one look at the man’s countenance suffices to tell you what he is. Here and there stalk grim Badawin, wild as their native wastes, and in all the dignity of pride and dirt; they also are armed to the teeth, and even the presence of the police- man’s quarterstaff? cannot keep their swords in their scabbards. What we should call the peaceful part of the population never leave the house without the ‘* Nabbut” over the right shoulder, and the larger, the longer, and the heavier the weapon is, the more gallantry does the bearer claim. The people of Yambu’ practise the use of this implement diligently; they become expert in delivering —- SS SSS, 1 Civilians usually stick one pistol in the belt; soldiers and fight- ing men two, or more, with all the necessary concomitants of pouches, turnscrews, and long iron ramrods, which, opening with a screw, dis- close a long thin pair of pincers, wherewith fire is put upon the chibuk. 2 The weapons with which nations are to be managed form a curious consideration. The Englishman tamely endures a staff, which would make a Frenchman mad with anger; anda Frenchman respects a sabre, which would fill an Englishman’s bosom with civilian spleen, You order the Egyptian to strip and be flogged; he makes no objec- tion to seeing his blood flow in this way; but were a cutting weapon used, his friends would stop at nothing in their fury. AIT.—The Halt at Yambw, 229 a head-blow so violent as to break through any guard, and with it they always decide their trivial quarrels.’ The dress of the women differs but little from that of the ‘Egyptians, except in the face veil,? which is generally white. There is an independent bearing about the Yambu’ men, strange in the East; they are proud without inso- lence, and they look manly without blustering. Their walk partakes somewhat ofthe nature of a swagger, owing, per- haps, to the shape of the sandals, not a little assisted by the self-esteem of the wearer, but there is nothing offen- sive in it: moreover, the population has a healthy appear- ance, and, fresh from Egypt, I could not help noticing their freedom from ophthalmic disease. The children, too, appear vigorous, nor are they here kept in that state of filth to which fear of the Evil Eye devotes them in the Valley of the Nile. My companions found me in a coffee-house, where I had sat down to rest from the fatigue of halting on my wounded foot through the town. They had passed their boxes through the custom-house, and were now inquiring in all directions, ‘‘Where’s the Effendi?” After sitting for half an hour, we rose to depart, when an old Arab merchant, whom I had met at Suez, politely insisted 1 In Arabia, generally, the wound is less considered by justice and revenge, than the instrument with which it was inflicted. Sticks and stones are held to be venial weapons: guns and pistols, swords and dagvers, are felonious. 2 Europeans inveigh against this article.—which represents the ‘ loup’’ of Louis XIV.’s time,— for its hideousness and jealous concealment of charms made to be admired. It is, on the contrary, the most coquettish article of woman's attire, except- i) ing, perhaps, the Lisam of Constantinople. It con- Filey ceals coarse skins, fleshy noses, wide mouths, and #) vanishing chins, whilst it sets off to best advantage what in these lands is almost always lustrous and liquid—the eye. Who has not remarked this at a masquerade ball ? é 230 Pilevimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. upon paying for my coffee, still a mark of attention in Arabia as it was whilome in France. We then went to a Wakalah, near the bazar, in which my companions had secured an airy upper room on the terrace opposite the sea, and tolerably free from Yambu’s plague, the flies. It had been tenanted by a party of travellers, who were introduced to me as Omar Effendi’s brothers; he had by accident met them in the streets the day before their start for Constantinople, where they were travelling to receive the Ikram.!. The family was, as I have said before, from Daghistan (Circassia), and the male mem- bers still showed unequivocal signs of a northern origin, in light yellowish skins, grey eyes fringed with dark lashes, red lips, and a very scant beard. They were broad-shouldered, large-limbed men, distinguished only by a peculiar surliness of countenance; perhaps their expression was the result of their suspecting me; for I observed them narrowly watching every movement during Wwuzu and prayers. This was a good oppor- tunity for displaying the perfect nonchalance of a True Believer; and my efforts were, I believe, successful, for afterwards they seemed to treat me as a mere stranger, from whom they could expect nothing, and who there- fore was hardly worth their notice. On the afternoon of the day of our arrival we sent for a Mukharrij,? (hirer of conveyance) and began to treat for camels. One Amm Jamal, a _ respectable native of Al-Madinah who was on his way home, under- took to be the spokesman; after a long palaver (for future chapter. 2 The Shaykh, or agent of the camels, without whose assistance it would be difficult to hire beasts. He brings the Badawin with him; talks them over to fair terms; sees the ‘‘Arbiin,” or earnest-— money, delivered to them; and is answerable for their not failing ia their engagement. 1 Acertain stipend allowed by the Sultan to citizens of the Hara- mayn (Meccah and Al-Madinah). It will be treated of at length in a XII,—The Halt at Yambu’. 231 the Shaykh of the camels and his attendant Badawin were men that fought for farthings, and we were not far inferior to them), a bargain was struck. We agreed to pay three dollars for each beast; half in ready money, the other half after reaching our desti- nation, and to start on the evening of the next day with a grain-caravan, guarded by an escort of Irregular cavalry. I hired two animals, one for my luggage and servant, the other for the boy Mohammed and myself, expressly stipulating that we were to ride the better beast, and that if it broke down on the road, its place should be supplied by another as good. My friends could not dissemble their uneasiness, when informed by the Muk- harry that the Hazimi tribe was “out,” and that travellers had to fight every day. The Daghistanis also contributed to their alarm. ‘‘ We met,” said they, ‘‘between 200 and 300 devils on a Razzia near Al- Madinah; we gave them the Salam, but they would not reply, although we were all on dromedaries. Then they asked us if we were men of Al-Madinah, and we replied -*Yes;’ and lastly, they wanted to know the end of our journey; so we said Bir Abbas.” The Badawin who had accompanied the Daghistanis belonged to some tribe unconnected with the Hazimi: the spokesman rolled his head, as much as to say ‘Allah has preserved us!” And a young Indian of the party—I shrewdly suspect him of having stolen my pen-knife that night—displayed 1 The not returning Salam" was a sign on the part of the Badawin that they were out to fight, and not to make friends; and -the dromedary riders, who generally travel without much to rob, thought this behaviour a declaration of desperate designs. The Badawin asked if they were Al-Madinah men; because the former do not like, unless when absolutely necessary, to plunder the people of the Holy City. And the Daghistanis said their destination was Bir Abbas, a neighbouring, instead of Yambu’, a distant post, because those who travel on a long journey, being supposed to have more funds with them, are more likely to be molested. 232 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. the cowardice of a “Miyan,!” by looking aghast at the memory of his imminent and deadly risk. “ Sir,” said Shaykh Nur to me, ‘“‘ we must wait till all this is over.’ I told him to hold his tongue, and sharply reproved' the boy Mohammed, upon whose manner the effect of finding himself suddenly in a fresh country had wrought a change for the worse. ‘ Why, ye were lions at Cairo; and here, at Yambu’, you are cats—hens!*” It was not long, however, before the youth’s impudence returned upon him with increased violence. We sat through the afternoon in the little room on the terrace, whose reflected heat, together with the fiery winds from the Wilderness, seemed to incommode even my companions. After sunset we dined in the open air, a body of twenty: master, servants, children and strangers. All the procurable rugs and pillows had been seized to make a Diwan, and we squatted together round a large cauldron of boiled rice, containing square masses of mutton, the whole covered with clarified butter. Sa’ad the Demon was now in his glory. With what anecdotes the occasion supplied him! His tongue seemed to wag with a perpetual motion; for each man he hada boisterous greeting; and, to judge from his whisperings, he must have been in every one’s privacy and confidence. Conversation over pipes and coffee was prolonged to ten p.m.,a late hour in these lands; then we prayed the 1 ‘‘ Miyan,” the Hindustani word for ‘Sir,’”’ is known to the Badawin all over Al-Hijaz; they always address Indian Moslems with this word, which has become contemptuous, on account of the low esteem in which the race is held. 2 That is to say, sneaks and cowards. I was astonished to see our Maghrabi fellow-passengers in the bazar at Yambu’ cringing and bowing to us, more like courtiers than Badawin. Such, however, is the effect of a strange place upon Orientals generally. In the Per- sians such humility was excusable; in no part of Al-Hijaz are they for a moment safe from abuse and blows. ——— AII.—The Halt at Yambu’. 233 Isha! (or vespers), and, spreading our mats upon the terrace, slept in the open air. The forenoon of the next day was occupied in - making sundry small purchases. We laid in seven days’ provisions for the journey ; repacked our boxes, polished _and loaded our arms, and attired ourselves appropriately for the road. By the advice of Amm Jamal? I dressed as an Arab, in order to avoid paying the Jizyat, a capita- tion tax® which, upon this road, the settled tribes extort from stranger travellers; and he warned me not to speak any language but Arabic, even to my ‘‘slave,” in the vicinity of a village. I bought for my own convenience a Shugduf or litter‘ for which I paid two dollars. Itisa 1 The night prayer. 2 ‘“‘Amm” means literally a paternal uncle. In the Hijaz it is prefixed to the names of respectable men, who may also be addressed “Ya Amm Jamal!’ (O Uncle Jamal!) Tosay “Ya Ammi!” (O my Uncle!) is more familiar, and would generally be used by a superior addressing an inferior. 3 Jizyat properly means the capitation tax levied on Infidels; in this land of intense pride, the Badawin, and even the town-chiefs, apply the opprobrious term to blackmail extorted from travellers, even of their own creed. 4 The Shugduf of Al-Hijaz differs greatly from that used in Syria and other countries. It is composed of two corded cots 5 feet long, slung horizontally, about half-way down, and parallei with the camel's sides. These cots have short legs, and at thehalt may be used as bedsteads; the two are connected together by loose ropes, at- tached to the inner long sides of the framework, and these are thrown over the camel’s packsaddle. Thick twigs inserted in the ends and the outer long sides of the framework, are bent over the top, bower-fashion, to support matting, carpets, and any other pro- tection against the sun. There is an opening in this kind of wicker-work in front (towards the camel’s head), through : which you creep ; anda similar one behind creates 9, draught of wind. The Mahmi, en déshabille. 234 ° Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. vehicle appropriated to women and children, fathers of families, married men, ‘“‘ Shelebis,’”” and generally to those who are too effeminate to ride. My reason for choosing a litter was that notes are more easily taken in it than on a dromedary’s back; the excuse of lameness prevented it detracting from my manhood, and I was careful when entering any populous place to borrow or hire a saddled beast. Our party dined early that day, for the camels had - been sitting at the gate since noon. We had the usual trouble in loading them: the owners of the animals voci- ferating about the unconscionable weight, the owners of the goods swearing that a child could carry such weight, while the beasts, taking part with their proprietors, moaned piteously, roared, made vicious attempts to bite, and started up with an agility that threw the half-secured boxes or sacks headlong to the ground. About 3 P.M. all was ready — the camels formed into Indian file were placed standing in the streets. But, as usual with Oriental travellers, all the men dispersed about the town: we did not mount before it was late in the afternoon. I must now take the liberty of presenting to the reader an Arab Shaykh fully equipped for travelling.’ Nothing can be more picturesque than the costume, and Outside, towards the camel's tail, are pockets containing gullehs, or earthenware bottles, of cooled water. Inside, attached to the wicker- work, are large provision pouches, similar to those used in old- fashioned travelling chariots. At the bottom are spread the two beds. The greatest disadvantage of the Shugduf is the difficulty of keeping balance. Two men ride in it, and their weights must be made to tally. Moreover, it is liable to be caught and torn by thorn trees, to be blown off in a gale of wind ; and its awkwardness causes the camel repeated falls, which are most likely to smash it. Yet itis not necessarily an uncomfortable machine. ‘Those for sale in the bazar are, of course, worthless, being made of badly seasoned wood. But private litters are sometimes pleasant vehicles, with turned and painted framework, silk cordage, and valuable carpets. ‘The often described “* Mahmil” is nothing but a Syrian Shugduf, Eh ornamented. phe Exquisites. 3 It is the same rule with the Arab, op the road as at home; the eT ah Be. 8, 237 XI1.—The Halt at Yan =& > ae Ss. *sibebind it is with regret that we see it exchang, neo and more civilised parts for any other. © ee or the shaven scalps are surmounted by a\ e ‘skull-cap, over which is a Kifiyah—a large squ. of silk and cotton mixed, and generally of a colour with a bright yellow border, from which ad crimson silk twists ending in little tassels that reach the wearer’s waist. Doubled into a triangle, and bound with an Aakal' or fillet of rope, a skein of yarn or a twist of wool, the kerchief fits the head close behind: it pro- jects over the forehead, shading the eyes, and giving a fierce look to the countenance. On certain occasions one end is brought round the lower part of the face, and is fastened behind the head. This veiling the features is technically called Lisém: the chiefs generally fight so, and it is the usual disguise when a man fears the avenger of blood, or a woman starts to take her Sav.’ ‘In hot weather it is supposed to keep the Samun, in cold weather the catarrh, from the lungs. more he is dressed the greater is his respectability. For this reason, you see Sharifs and other men of high family, riding or walking in their warm camel's hair robes on the hottest days. Another super- stition of the Arabs is this, that thick clothes avert the evil effects of the sun’s beams, by keeping out heat. 1 Sharifs and other great men sometimes bind a white turband or a Cashmere shaw! round the kerchief, to keep it in its place. The Aakal varies in every part of the country. Here it is a twist of dyed wool, there a bit of common rope, three or four feet long. Some of the Arab tribes usea circlet of wood, com- posed..of little round pieces, the size of a ‘\ shillin 7, joined side by side, and inlaid with mother-of-pearl. The Eastern Arabs wear a large circle of brown wool, almost a turband in itself. In Barbary, they twist bright- coloured cloth round a rope, and adorn it with thick golden thread. 2 Generally written ‘ Thar,” the blood-revenge right, acknow- edged by law and custom. (See Chapter xxiv: post.) 234 ° Pilgrgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. vehicl-+ he body dress is simply a Kamis or cotton shirt: s-ught sleeved, opening in front, and adorned round the waist and collar, and down the breast, with embroidery | like net-work; it extends from neck to foot. Some wear wide trousers, but the Badawin consider such things | effeminate, and they have not yet fallen into the folly of | socks and stockings. Over the Kamis is thrown a long- skirted and short-sleeved cloak of camel’s hair, called an Aba. It is made in many patterns, and of all materials from pure silk to coarse sheep’s wool; some prefer it brown, others white, others striped: in Al-Hijaz the favourite hue is white, embroidered with gold,' tinsel, or yellow thread in two large triangles, capped with broad bands and other figures running down the shoulders and sides of the back. It is lined inside the shoulders and breast with handsome stuffs of silk and cotton mixed, and is tied in front by elaborate strings, and tassels or acorns of silk and gold. A sash confines the Kamis at the waist, and supports the silver-hilted Jambiyah? or crooked dag- ger: the picturesque Arab sandal* completes the costume. Finally, the 1 Gold, however, as well as silk, I may be excused for repeating, is a forbidden article of ornament to the Moslem. 2 The silver-hilted dagger is a sign of dignity: ‘‘I would silver my dagger,” in idiomatic Hijazi, means, ‘‘I would raise myself in the world.” j 3 Niebuhr has accurately described this article. It is still worn in the Madras army, though long discarded from the other presi- dencies ; the main difference betwe. ot ‘the Indian and the Arab sandal is, that the former has a ring, into which the big toe is inserted, and the latter a thong, which is clasped between the big toe and its neigh- bour. Both of them are equally uncomfortable, and equally injurious to soldiers, whose legs fight as muchas do their arms. They abrade the skin wherever the straps touch, expose the feet to the sun, wind, and rain, and admit thoras and flints to the toes and toe-najls. In Arabia, the traveller may wear, if he pleases, slippers, but they are XII.—The Halt at Yambu’. 237 Shaykh’s arms are a sword and a matchlock slung behind his back; in his right hand he carries a short javelin’ ora light crooked stick, about two feet and a half long, called _a Mas’hab, used for guiding camels. The poorer clans of Arabs twist round their waist, considered townsman-like and effeminate. They must be of the usual colours, red or yellow. Black shoes, though almost universally worn by the Turks at Cairo and Constantinople, would most probably excite suspicion in Al-Hijaz. 1 The Mizrak, as it is called, is peculiar to certain tribes, as the Karashi and the Lahyami, and some, like the Hudayli near Meccah, make very pretty as well as very useful darts. The head is 15 or 16 inches long, nowhere broader than an inch, and tapering gradually to a fine point; its shape is two shallow prisms joined at their bases, and its socket, round like that of all lances, measures a little less than 2 inches. The lower third of the blade only is adorned with bars, lozenges, and cones of brass let into the iron in zig-zag and other figures. The shaft is of hard pliant wood—I do not know of what tree—well seasoned with grease and use; it is 23 inches long, and strengthened and adorned at distances of half an inch apart by bands of fine brass wire, about one inch and a half long. The heel of the weapon is a blunt spike 14 inches long, used to stick it in the ground, and this, as well as the lower third of the blade, is ornamented with brass work. Being well balanced, the Mizrak isa highly efficient weapon for throwing in hunting, and by its hand- some appearance adds not a little to the bearer’s dignity. But the stranger must be careful how he so arms himself. Unless he be undistinguishable from a Badawi, by carrying a weapon peculiar to certain clans, he will expose himself to suspicion, or to laughter. And to offend an Arab of Al-Hijaz mortally, you have only to say bluntly, “‘ Sell me thy spear.” The proper style of address to the man whose necessities compel him to break through one of his ‘points d’honneur,” is to say, “ Give me that javelin, and I will satisfy thee ;"" after which he will haggle for each copper piece as though you were cheapening a sheep. 2 The Mas’hab is of almond, generally brought from Syria; at the thick end is a kind of crook, formed by cutting off a bit of the larger branch from which the stick grows. This crook is afterwards cut into the shape useful to seize a camel’s nose-ring, or a horse’s bridle. Arabs of all degrees are fond of carrying these sticks. [It is also called Maghin.] : 238 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah, — next to the skin, a long plait of greasy leather, to support the back; and they gird the shirt at the middle merely with a cord, or with a coarse sash. The dagger is stuck > in this scarf, and a bandoleer slung over the shoulders carries the cartridge-case, powder-flask, flint and steel, priming-horn, and other necessaries. With the traveller, the waist is an elaborate affair. Next to the skin is worn the money-pouch, concealed by the Kamis; the latter is girt with a waist shawl, over which is strapped a leathern belt.1. The latter article should always be well garnished with a pair of long-barrelled and silver- mounted flint pistols,? a large and a small dagger, and an 1 This article, the Silahlik of the Turks, is composed of several oblong pieces of leather cut out to fit the front part of the body; between each fold there is room enough to stick a weapon ; a substan- tial strap fastens it round the waist, and it serves to defend the sash or the shirt from iron mould, and the stains of gunpowder, It is made of all kinds of material, from plain Morocco leather to the richest velvet embroidered with gold. 2 It is as well to have a good pair of Turkish barrels and stocks, fitted up with locks of European manufacture; those made by natives of these countries can never be depended upon. The same will apply to the gun or rifle, Upon the whole, it is more prudent to have flint locks. Copper caps are now sold in the bazars of Meccah and Al-Madinah, where a Colt’s “‘six-shooter”’ might excite attention for a day; but were the owner in a position to despise notoriety, he might display it everywhere without danger. One of our guards, who was killed on the road, had a double-barrelled. English fowling-piece. Still, when doubts must not be aroused, the traveller will do well to avoid, even in the civilised Hijaz, suspicious appearances in his weapons. I carried in a secret pocket a small pistol with a spring dagger, upon which dependence could be placed, and I was careful never to show it, discharging it and loading it always in the dark. Some men wear a little dagger strapped round the leg, below the knee. Its use is this: when the enemy gets you under, he can prevent you bringing your hand up to the weapon in your waist-belt ; but before he cuts your throat, you may slip your fingers down to the knee, and persuade him to stop by a stab in the perineum. This knee dagger is required only in very dangerous places. The article I chiefly accused myself of forgetting was a XII.—The Halt at Yamba’. 239 iron ramrod with pincers inside; a little leathern pouch fastened to the waist-strap on the right side contains cartridge, wadding, and flask of priming powder. The sword hangs over the shoulder by crimson silk cords and huge tassels': well-dressed men apply the same showy ornaments to their pistols. In the hand may be borne a bell-mouthed blunderbuss; or, better still, a long single-barrel gun with an ounce bore. All these weapons must shine like silver, if you wish to be respected; for the knightly care of arms is here a sign of manliness. Pilgrims, especially those from Turkey, carry, I have said, a “‘ Hamail,” to denote their holy errand. This is a pocket Koran, in a handsome gold-embroidered crim- son velvet or red morocco case, slung by red silk cords over, the left shoulder. It must hang down by the right side, and should never depend below the waist-belt. For this I substituted a most useful article. To all appearance a ‘* Hamail,” it had inside three compart- ments; one for my watch and compass, the second for ready money, and the third contained penknife, pencils, and slips of paper, which I could hold concealed in the hollow of my hand. These were for writing and drawing: opportunities of making a “fair copy” into the diary- book,? are never wanting to the acute traveller. He stout English clasp-knife, with a large handle, a blade like an ‘‘ Arkansas toothpick,” and possessing the other useful appliances of picker, fleam, tweezers, lancet, and punch. 1 Called ‘‘Habak’’: these cords are made in great quantities at - Cairo, which possesses a special bazar for them, and are exported to all the neighbouring countries, where their price considerably in- creases. A handsome pistol-cord, with its tassels, costs about 12 shillings in Egypt; at Meccah, or Al-Madinah, the same would fetch upwards of a pound sterling. 2 My diary-book was made up for me by a Cairene; it was a long thin volume fitting into a breast-pocket, where it could be carried without being seen. I began by writing notes in the Arabic character, but as no risk appeared, my journal was afterwards kept in English. More than once, by way of experiment, I showed tha 240 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. must, however, beware of sketching before the Badawin, who would certainly proceed to extreme measures, sus- pecting him to be a spy or a sorcerer. Nothing so effectually puzzles these people asthe Frankish habit of put- ting everything on paper; theirimaginationsareset at work, and then the worst may be expected from them. The only safe way of writing in presence of a Badawi would be when drawing out a horoscope or preparing a charm ; ‘he also objects not, if you can warm his heart upon the subject, to seeing you take notes in a book of genealogies. You might begin with, “And you, men of Harb, on what origin do you pride yourselves?” And while the listeners became fluent upon the, to.them, all-interesting writing on a loose slip of paper to my companions, and astonished them with the strange character derived from Solomon and Alex- ander, the Lord of the Two Horns, which we Afghans still use. For a short trip a pencil suffices; on long journeys ink is necessary ; the latter article should be English, not Eastern, which is washed out clean the first time your luggage is thoroughly soaked with rain. The traveller may use either the Persian or the brass Egyptian ink- stand; the latter, however, is preferable, being stronger and less likely to break. But, unless he be capable of writing and reading a letter correctly, it would be unadvisable to stick such an article in the waist-belt, as this gives out publicly that he is a scribe. When sketching, the pencil is the best, because the simplest and shortest mode of operation is required. Important lines should afterwards be marked with ink, as ‘fixing’ is impossible on such journeys. For prudence sake, when my sketches were made, I cut up the paper into square pieces, numbered them for future reference, and hid them in the tin canisters that contained my medicines. t Anaccident of this kind happened not long ago, in Hazramaut, to a German traveller who shall be nameless. He had the morti fication to see his sketch-book, the labour of months, summarily appropriated and destroyed by the Arabs. I was told by a Hazra- maut man at Cairo, and by several at Aden, that the gentleman had at the time a narrow escape with his life; the Badawin wished to put him to death as a spy, sent by the Frank to ensorceley their country, but the Shaykhs forbade bloodshed, and merely deported the offender. Travellers caught sketching are not often treated with sich forhearance. AlI.—The Halt at Yambu. | 241 theme, you could put down whatever you please upon the margin. The townspeople are more liberal, and years ago the Holy Shrines have been drawn, surveyed and even lithographed, by Eastern artists: still, if you wish to avoid all suspicion, you must rarely be seen with pen or with pencil in hand. At 6 p.m., descending the stairs of our Wakalah, we found the camels standing loaded in the street, and shifting their ground in token of impatience.1_ My Shug- duf, perched upon the back of a tall strong animal, nodded and swayed about with his every motion, impressing me with the idea that the first step would throw it over the shoulders or the crupper. The camel-man told me I must climb up the animal’s neck, and so creep into the vehicle. But my foot disabling me from such exertion, I insisted upon their bringing the beast to squat, which they did grumblingly.?. We took leave of Omar Effendi’s brothers and their dependents, who insisted upon paying us’ the compliment of accompanying us to the gate. Then we mounted and started, which was a signal for all our party to disperse once more. Some heard the report of a vessel having arrived from Suez, with Mohammed Shiklibha and other friends on board; these hurried down to the harbour for a parting word. Others, declaring they had forgotten some necessaries for the way, ran off to spend one last hour in gossip at the coffee-house. ‘Then the sun set, and prayers must be said. The brief twilight had almost faded away before all had mounted. With loud cries of ‘‘ Wassit, ya hé !— t All Arabs assert that it pains the loaded camel’s feet to stand still, and, certainly, the ‘‘fidgettiness ’’ of the animal to start, looks as if he had some reason to prefer walking. 2 It often strains the camel to rise with a full Shugduf on his back, besides which the motion is certain to destroy the vehicle ina few days. Those who ire unable to climb up the camel’s neck usually carry with them a short ladder. 242 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. Go in the middle of the road, O He!” and “Jannib, yal Jammél'!—Keep to the side, O camel-man!” we threaded our way through long, dusty, narrow streets, flanked with white-washed habitations at considerable intervals, and large heaps of rubbish, sometimes higher than the houses. We were stopped at the gate to ascertain if we were strangers, in which case, the guard would have done his best to extract a few piastres before allowing our luggage to pass; but he soon perceived by my companions, accent, that they were Sons of the Holy City,—consequently, that the case was hopeless. While standing here, Shaykh Hamid vaunted the strong walls and turrets of Yambu’, which he said were superior to those of Jeddah’: they kept Sa’ud, the Wahhabi, at bay in A.D. 1802, but would scarcely, I should say, resist a field battery in A.D. 1853. The moon rose fair and clear, dazzling us with light as we emerged from the shadowy streets; and when we launched into the Desert, the sweet air delightfully contrasted with the close offensive atmos- phere of the town. My companions, as Arabs will do on such occasions, began to sing. 1 Wassit means, ‘‘ goin the middle of the road”’; Jannib, ‘* keep clear of the sides.’’ These words are fair specimens of how much may be said by two Arabic syllables. Ya hu (O, he) is an address common in Arabia as in Egypt, and Y'al Jammal (O camel-man) is perhaps a little more civil. 2 The rivalry between the Sons of the two Holy Cities extends even to these parts: the Madanis contending for Yambu’, the Mece cans for Jeddah. CHAPTER, XIII, FROM YAMBU’ TO BIR ABBAS. On the 18th July, about 7 p.m., we passed through the gate of Yambu’, and took a due Easterly course. Our route lay over the plain between the mountains of Radh- wah on the left, and the sea on the right hand; the land was desert,—thatisto say, a hard level plain, strewed with rounded lumps of granite and greenstone schist, with here and there a dwarf Acacia, and a tuft of rank camel grass. By the light of a glorious moon, nearly at the full, I was able to see the country tolerably well. Our party consisted of twelve camels, and we trav- elled in Indian file, head tied to tail, with but one out- rider, Omar Effendi, whose rank required him to mount a: dromedary with showy trappings. Immediately in front of me was Amm Jamal, whom I had to reprove for asking the boy Mohammed, ‘Where have you picked up that Hindi, (Indian)?” ‘Are we, the Afghans, the Indian- slayers,’ become Indians?” I vociferated with indignation, and brought the thing home to his feelings, by asking him how he, an Arab, would like to.be called an Egyptian, —a Fellah? The rest of the party was behind, sitting or dozing upon the rough platforms made by the lids of the two huge boxes slung to the sides of their camels. Only one old woman, Al-Sitt Maryam (the lady Mary), return- 1 Alluding to the celebrated mountain, the ‘ Hindu-kush," whence the Afghans sallied forth to lay waste India. 244 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. ing to Al-Madinah, her adopted country, after a visit toa sister at Cairo, allowed herself the luxury of a half-dollar _ Shibriyah or cot, fastened crosswise over the animal’s load. Moreover, all the party, except Omar Effendi, in token of poverty, were dressed in the coarsest and dirtiest of clothes,—the general suit consisting of a shirt torn in divers places and a bit of rag wrapped round the head. They carried short chibuks without mouth-pieces, and tobacco-pouches of greasy leather. Though the country hereabouts is perfectly safe, all had their arms in readiness, and the unusual silence that succeeded to the singing,— even Sa’ad the Demon held his tongue,—was sufficient to show how much they feared for their property. After a slow march of two hours facing the moon, we turned somewhat towards the North-East, and began to pass over undulating ground, in which a steady rise was per- ceptible. We arrived at the halting-place at three in the morning, after a short march of about eight hours, during which we could not have passed over more than sixteen miles.1 The camels were nakh’d?; the boxes were taken off and piled together as a precaution against invisible robbers; my little tent, the only one in the party, was pitched ; we then spread our rugs upon the ground and lay down to sleep. We arose at about 9 a.m. (July 19), and after congrat- ulating one another upon being once more in the “dear Desert,” we proceeded in exhilarated mood to light the fire for pipes and breakfast. The meal—a biscuit, a little rice, and a cup of milkless tea—was soon dis- patched, after which I proceeded to inspect our position. er 1 Throughout this work I have estimated the pace of a Hijazi_ camel, laden and walking in caravan line, under ordinary circum- stances, at two geographical miles an hour. A sandy plain or a rocky pass might make a difference of half a mile each way, but not more. 2 See Chap. VIII., page 152, note r, ante. AIII.—From Yambw to Biv Abbas. 245 About a mile to the westward lay the little village Al-Musahhal,' a group of miserable mud hovels. On the south was a strip of bright blue sea, and all around, an tron plain producing naught but stones and grasshoppers, and bounded northward by a grisly wall of blackish rock. Here and there a shrub fit only for fuel, or a tuft of coarse grass, crisp with heat, met the eye. All was sun-parched; the furious heat from above was drying up the sap and juice of the land, as the simmering and quivering atmos- phere showed ; moreover the heavy dews of these regions, forming in large drops upon the plants and stones, con- centrate the morning rays upon them like a system of burning-glasses. After making these few observations I followed the example of my companions, and returned to sleep. At two P.M. we were roused to a dinner as simple as the breakfast had been. Boiled rice with an abundance of _ the clarified butter? in which Easterns delight, some frag- ments of Kahk* or soft biscuit, and stale bread‘ anda handful of stoned and pressed date-paste, called ’Ajwah, formed the menu. Our potations began before dinner with a vile-tasted but wholesome drink called Akit,° t The reader must be warned that these little villages in Arabia, asin Sind and Baluchistan, are continually changing their names, whilst the larger settlements always retain the same. The traveller, too, must beware of writing down the first answer he receives ; in one of our maps a village on the Euphrates is gravely named ** M’adri,” (‘* Don’t know’). 2 Here called Samn, the Indian ghee. 3 The ‘‘ Kahk” in this country is a light and pleasant bread made of ground wheat, kneaded with milk, leavened with sour bean flour, and finally baked in an oven, not, as usual, in the East, upon an iron plate. The Kahk of Egypt is a kind of cake. 4 Stale unleavened bread is much relished by Easterns, who say that keeping it on journeys makes it sweet. To prevent its becoming mouldy, they cut it up into little bits, and, at the risk of hardening it to the consistence of wood, they dry it by exposure to the air. 5 This Akit has different names in all parts of Arabia; even in 246 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. dried sour milk dissolved in water; at the meal we drank the leather-flavoured element, and ended with a large cupful of scalding tea. Enormous quantities of liquid were consumed, for the sun seemed to have got into'our throats, and the perspiration trickled as after a shower of rain. Whilst we were eating, a Badawi woman passed close by the tent, leading a flock of sheep and goats, seeing which I expressed a desire to drink milk. My com- panions sent by one of the camel-men a bit of bread, and asked in exchange for a cupful of “laban.’” Thus I learned that the Arabs, even in this corrupt region, still adhere to the meaningless custom of their ancestors, who chose to make the term ‘‘ Labban’” (milk-seller) an oppro- brium and a disgrace. Possibly the origin of the preju- Al-Hijaz it is known by the name of Mazir, as well as ‘‘Igt,’’ (the corruption of Akit). When very sour, it is called ‘‘Saribah,” and when dried, without boiling, ‘‘Jamidah.’’ The Arabs make it by evaporating the serous part of the milk; the remainder is then formed into cakes or lumps with the hand, and spread upon hair cloth to dry. They eat it withclarified butter, and drink it melted in water. It is considered a cooling and refreshing beverage, but boasts few attractions to the stranger. The Baluchis and wild tribes of Sindians call this preparation of milk “ Krat,’’ and make it in the same way as the Badawin do. 1 In Arabic and Hebrew, milk; the Maltese give the word a very different signification, and the Egyptians, like the Syrians, confine their use of it to sour milk or curds—calling sweet milk ‘“laban halib,” or simply ‘ halib.” 2 In a previous work (History of Sind), I have remarked that there exists some curious similarity in language and customs between the Arabs and the various races occupying the broad ranges of hills that separate India from Persia. Amongst these must be numbered the prejudice alluded to above. The lamented Dr. Stocks, of Bombay, who travelled arnongst and observed the Brahui and the Baluchi nomads in the Pashin valley, informed me that, though they will give milk in exchange for other commodities, yet they consider it a disgrace to make money by it. This, methinks, is too conven- tional a point of honour to have sprung up spontaneously in two countries so distant, and apparently so unconnected. | ALII.—F rom Yambu’ to Biv Abbas. 247 dice might be the recognising of a traveller’s guest-right to call for milk gratis. However this may be, no one will in the present day sell this article of consumption, even at - civilised Meccah, except Egyptians, a people supposed to _ be utterly without honour. As a general rule in the Hijaz,' milk abounds in the spring, but at all other times of the year it is difficult to be procured. The Badawi woman managed, however, tosend me back a cupful. | At three P.M. we were ready to start, and all saw, with unspeakable gratification, a huge black nimbus rise from the shoulder of Mount Radhwah, and range itself, like a good genius, between us and our terrible foe, the sun. We hoped that it contained rain, but presently a blast of hot wind, like the breath of a volcano, blew over the plain, and the air was filled with particles of sand. This is the ‘dry storm” of Arabia; it appears to depend upon some electrical phenomena which it would be de- sirable to investigate.’ When we had loaded and mounted, my camel-men, two in number, came up to the Shugduf and demanded ‘ Bakhshish,” which, it appears, they are now in the habit of doing each time the traveller starts. I was at first surprised to find the word here, but after a few days of Badawi society, my wonder diminished. The men were Beni-Harb of the great Hijazi tribe, which has kept its blood pure for the last thirteen cen- turies,—how much more we know not,—but they had been corrupted by intercourse with pilgrims, retaining none of their ancestral qualities but greed of gain, re- vengefulness, pugnacity, and a frantic kind of bravery, displayed on rare occasions. Their nobility, however, did not prevent my quoting the Prophet’s saying, “‘Of a truth, the worst names among the Arabs are the Beni- tr At Aden, as well as in Sind, these dry storms abound, and there the work of meteorological investigation would be easier than in Al-Hijaz. 248 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. Kalb and the Beni-Harb,!” whilst I taunted them severely with their resemblance to the Fellahs of Egypt. They would have resented this with asperity, had it proceeded from their own people, but the Turkish pilgrim—the char- acter in which they knew me, despite my Arab dress— is a privileged person. The outer man of these Fight- Sons was contemptible; small chocolate-coloured beings, stunted and thin, with mops of course bushy hair burned brown by the sun, straggling beards, vicious eyes, frown- ing brows, screaming voices, and well-made, but atten- uated, limbs. On their heads were Kufiyahs in the last stage of wear: a tattered shirt, indigo-dyed, and girt with a bit of common rope, composed their clothing; and their feet were protected from the stones by soles of thick leather, kept in place by narrow thongs tied to the ankle. Both were armed, one with a match- lock, and a Shintiyan? in a leathern scabbard, slung over the shoulder, the other with a Nabbut, and both showed at _ the waist the Arab’s invariable companion, the Jambiyah (dagger). These ragged fellows, however, had their pride. They would eat with me, and not disdain, like certain self-styled Caballeros, to ask for more; but of work they would do none. No promise of “ Bakhshish,” potent as Sane SERSRERRneneneeeeeeeee ee 1 ‘ Beni-Kalb,” (or Juhaynah, Chap. X.), would mean the “‘ Dogs’- Sons ’’—‘' Beni-Harb,” the “ Sons of Fight.” 2 The Shintiyan is the common sword-blade of the Badawin ; in Western Arabia, it is called Majar (from the Magyars ?), and is said to be of German manufacture. Good old weapons of the proper curve, marked like Andrew Ferraras with a certain number of lines down their length, will fetch, even in Arabia, from £7 to £8. The modern and cheap ones cost about ros. Excellent weapons abound in this country, the reason being that there is a perpetual demand for them, and when once purchased, they become heir-looms in the family. I have heard that when the Beni Bu Ali tribe, near Ras al- Khaymah, was defeated with slaughter by Sir Lionel Smith's expedi- tion, the victors found many valuable old Furopean blades in the hands ot the slain. i | X1II1.—From Yambu to Bir Abosa. 249 tne speil of that word is, would induce them to assist in pitching my tent: they even expected Shaykh Nur to cook for them, and J had almost to use violence, for even the just excuse of a sore foot was insufficient to procure the privilege of mounting my Shugduf while the camel was sitting. it was, they said, the custom of the country from time immemorial to use a ladder when legs would not act. i agreed with them, but objected that I had no tadder. At last, wearied with their thick-headedness, I snatched the nose-string of the camel, and by main force made it kneel. Our party was now strong enough. We had about 200 beasts carrying grain, attended by their proprietors, truculent looking as the contrabandistas of the Pyrenees. The escort was composed of seven Irregular Turkish cavalry, tolerably mounted, and supplied each with an armoury in epitome. They were privily derided by our party, who, being Arabs, had a sneaking fondness for the Badawin, however loth they might be to see them amongst the boxes. For three hours we travelled in a south - easterly direction upon a hard plain and a sandy flat, on which several waters from the highlands find a passage to the sea westward. Gradually we were siding towards the mountains, and.at sunset I observed that we had sensibly neared them. We dismounted for a short halt; and, strangers being present, my companions, before sitting down to smoke, said their prayers—a pious exercise in which they did not engage for three days afterwards, when they met certain acquaintances at Al-Hamra. As evening came on, we emerged from a scrub of Acacia and Tamarisk and turned due East, traversing an open country with a perceptible rise. Scarcely was it dark before the cry of ‘‘Harami” (thieves) rose loud in the rear, causing such confusion as one may see in a boat in the Bay of Naples when suddenly neared by a water- 250 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. spout. All the camel-men brandished their huge staves, and rushed back vociferating in the direction of the robbers. They were followed by the horsemen; and truly, had the thieves possessed the usual acuteness of the profession, they might have driven off the camels in our van with safety and convenience.1 But these con- temptible beings were only half a dozen in number, and they had lighted their matchlocks, which drew a bullet or two in their direction. Whereupon they ran away. This incident aroused no inconsiderable excitement, for it seemed ominous of worse things about to happen to us when entangled in the hills, and the faces of my com- panions, perfect barometers of fair and foul tidings, fell to zero. For nine hours we-journeyed through a bril- liant moonlight, and as the first grey streak appeared in the Eastern sky we entered a scanty “* Mtsyal,?”’ or Fiumara, strewed with pebbles and rounded stones, about half a mile in breadth, and flanked by almost perpen- dicular hills of primitive formation. I began by asking the names of peaks and other remarkable spots, when I found that a folio volume would not contain a three months’ collection*: every hill and dale, flat, valley, and Sade Ss Noh ke NE UREA RE LET Sete ws 1 The way of carrying off a camel in this country is to loosen | him, and then to hang on heavily to his tail, which causes him to start at full gallop. 2 The Arabic Misyal, Masyal, Masil, or Masilah, is the Indian Nullah and the Sicilian “ Fiumara,” a hill water-course, which rolls a torrent during and after rain, and is either partially or wholly dry at other seasons,—the stream flowing slowly underground. In England we want the feature, and therefore there is no single word to express it. Our “ River” is an imperfect way of conveying the idea. 3 Generalisation is not the forte of the Arabic language. ‘ Al- Kulzum”’ (the Red Sea), for instance, will be unintelligible to the native of Jeddah; call it the Sea of Jeddah, and you at once explain yourself ; so the Badawin will have names for each separate part, but no single cne to express the whole. This might be explained by their ignorance of anything but details. The same thing is observable, however, in the writings of the Arabian geographers when they ceme to treat of the objects near home. XI11.—F rom Yambw te Biv Abbas. 251 water-course here has its proper name or rather names, The ingenuity shown by the Badawin in distinguishing between localities the most similar, is the result of a _ high organization of the perceptive faculties, perfected by the practice of observing a recurrence of landscape features few in number and varying but little amongst themselves. After travelling two hours up this torrent bed, winding in an Easterly direction, and crossing some ‘“‘ Harrah,” or ridges of rock, ‘‘ Ria,” steep descents,’ “ Kitaah,” patch of stony flat, ard bits of ** Sahil,” dwarf plain, we found ourselves pet eight a.M., after a march of about thirty-four miles, at Bir Sa’id (Sas id’s Well), our destination. I had been led to expect at the ‘“ Well,” a pastoral scene, wild flowers, flocks and flowing waters; so I looked with a jaundiced eye upon a deep hole full of slightly brackish water dug in a tamped hollow—a kind of punch- bowl with granite walls, upon whose grim surface a few thorns of exceeding hardihood braved the sun for a season. Not a house was in sight—it was as barren and desolate a spot as the sun ever ‘‘viewed in his wide career.” But this is what the Arabian traveller must expect. He is to traverse, for instance, the Wady Al-Ward—the Vale of Flowers. Heindulgesin sweet recollections of Indian lakes beautiful with the Lotus, and Persian plains upon which Narcissus is the meanest of grasses. Heseesa plain like swish-work, where knobs of granite act daisies; and where, at every fifty yards, some hapless bud or blossom is dying of inanition among the stones. The sun scorched our feet as we planted the tent, and, after drinking our breakfast, we passed the usual day of perspiration and semi-lethargy. In discomfort man natur- 1 About the classic “ Harrah, "T shall have m more to say at a future time. The word “ Ria” in literary and in vulgar Arabic is almost synonymous with Akabah, a steep descent, a path between hills or a mountain road. 252 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. ally hails a change, even though it be one from bad to worse. When our enemy began slanting towards the West, we felt ready enough to proceed on our journey. The camels were laden shortly after 3 p.m., July 20th, and we started, with water jars in our hands, through a storm of Samun. We travelled five hours in a North-Easterly course up a diagonal valley,’ through a country fantastic in its deso- lation—a mass of huge hills, barren plains, and desert vales. Even the sturdy Acacias here failed, and in some places the camel grass could not find earth enough for its root. The road wound among mountains, rocks and hills of granite, and over broken ground, flanked by huge blocks and boulders piled up as if man’s art had aided Nature to disfigure herself. Vast clefts seamed like scars the hideous face of earth; here they widened into dark caves, there they were choked with glistening drift sand. Nota bird or a beast was to be seen or heard; their presence would have argued the vicinity of water; and, though my companions opined that Badawin were lurking among the rocks, I decided that these Badawin were the creatures of their fears. Above, a sky like polished blue steel, with a tremendous blaze of yellow light, glared upon us without the thinnest veil of mist cloud. Below, the brass-coloured circle scorched the face and dazzled the eyes, mocking them the while with offers of water that was but air. The distant prospect was more attractive than the near view, because it borrowed a bright azure tinge from the intervening atmosphere; but the jagged peaks and the perpendicular streaks of shadow down the flanks of the mountainous background EE — eee 1 Valleys may be divided into three kinds. 1. Longitudinal, ¢.<. parallel to the axis of their ridges; 2. Transversal or perpendicular to the same; and, 3. Diagonal, which form an acute or an obtuse angle with the main chain of mountains. ( XIII.—From Yambw to Bw Abbas. 253 showed that yet in store for us was no change for the Detter. Between ro and 11 P.M., we reached human habita- tions—a phenomenon unseen since we left Al-Musahhal— in the shape of a long straggling village. It is called Al-Hamra, from the redness of the sands near which it is built, or Al-Wasitah, the “half-way,” because it is the middle station between Yambu’ and Al-Madinah. It is therefore considerably out of place in Burckhardt’s map ; and those who copy from him make it much nearer the sea-port than it really is. We wandered nearly an hour in search of an encamping station, for the surly villa- gers ordered us off every flatter bit of ground, without, howeyer, deigning to show us where our jaded beasts might rest. At last, after long wrangling, we found the usual spot ; the camels were unloaded, the boxes and baggage were disposed in a circle for greater security against the petty pilferers in which this part of the road abounds, and my companions spread their rugs so as to sleep upon their valuables. I was invited to follow the general example; but I absolutely declined the vicinity of so many steaming and snoring fellow-travellers. Some wonder was excited by the Afghan Haji’s obstinacy and recklessness; but re- sistance to these people 1s sometimes ben placé, and a man from Kabul is allowed to say and to do strange things. In answer to their warnings of nightly peril, I placed a drawn sword by my side’ and a cocked pistol under my pillow, the saddle-bag: acarpet spread upon the cool loose sand formed by no means an uncomfortable couch, and upon it I enjoyed a sound sleep till day-break. Rising at dawn (July 21), I proceeded tovisit the vil- lage. It is built upon a narrow shelf at the top of a pre- cipitous hill to the North, and on the South runs a sandy 1 This act, by the bye, I afterwards learned to bea greater act of imprudence than the sleeping alone. Nothing renders the Arab thief so active as the chance of stealing a good weapon. 254 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. Fiumara about halfa milebroad. On all sides are rocksand mountains rough and stony; so you find yourself in another of those punch-bowls which the Arabs seem to consider choice sites for settlements.1. The Fiumara, hereabouts very winding, threads the high grounds all the way down from the plateau of Al-Madinah: during the rainy season it becomes a raging torrent, carrying west- wards to the Red Sea the drainage of a hundred hills. Water of good quality is readily found in it by digging a few feet below the surface at the angles where the stream forms the deepest hollows, and in some places the stony sides give out bubbling springs.? Al-Hamra itself is a collection of stunted houses or rather hovels, made of unbaked brick and mud, roofed over with palm leaves, and pierced with air-holes, which occasionally boast a bit of plank fora shutter. It appears thickly populated in the parts where the walls are stand- ing, but, like all settlements in the Holy Land, Al-Hijaz,} it aboundsin ruins. It is well supplied with provisions, which are here cheaper than at Al-Madinah,—a circumstance that induced Sa’ad the Demon to overload his hapless camel with a sack of wheat. In thevillage area few shops where grain, huge plantains, ready-made bread, rice, 1 Probably, because water is usually found in such places. In the wild parts of the country, wells are generally protected by some fortified building, for men consider themselves safe from an enemy until their supply of water is cut off. 2 Near Al-Hamra, at the base of the Southern hills, within fire of the forts, there is a fine spring of sweet water. All such fountains are much prized by the people, who call them ‘“ Rock-water," and attribute to them tonic and digestive virtues. 3 As far as I could discover, the reason of the ruinous state of the country at present is the effect of the old Wahhabi and Egyptian wars in the early part of the present century, and the misrule of the Turks. In Arabia the depopulation of a village or a district is not to be remedied, as in other countries, by an influx of strangers; the land still belongs to the survivors of the tribe, and trespass would be visited with a bloody revenge. XIT.—From Vambw to Bir Abbas. 255 clarified butter, and other edibles are to be purchased. Palm orchards of considerable extent supply it with dates. The bazar is, like the generality of such places in the . villages of Eastern Arabia, a long lane, here covered with _ matting, there open to the sun, and the narrow streets— if they may be so called—are full of dust and glare. Near the encamping ground of caravans is a fort for the officer commanding a troop of Albanian cavalry, whose duty it is to defend the village,’ to hold the country, and to escort merchant travellers. The building consists of an outer wall of hewn stone, loopholed for musketry, and surmounted by ‘ Shavarif,” ‘‘vemparts coquets,’”’ about as useful against artillery as the sugar gallery round a Twelfth-cake. Nothing would be easier than to take the place: a false attack would draw off the attention of the defenders, who in these latitudes know nothing of sentry- duty, whilst scaling - ladders or a bag full of powder - would command a ready entrance into the other side. Around the Al-Hamra fort are clusters of palm-leaf huts, where the soldiery lounge and smoke, and near it is the usual coffee-house, a shed kept by an Albanian. These places are frequented probably on account of the intense heat inside the fort. We passed a comfortless day at the ‘‘Red Village.” Large flocks of sheep and goats were being driven in and out of the place, but their surly shepherds would give no milk, even in exchange for bread and meat. The morning was spent in watching certain Badawin, who, matchlock in hand, had climbed the hills in pursuit of a troop of cranes: not one bird was hit of the many fired at—a circumstance which did not say much for their vaunted marksmanship. Before break- fast I bought a moderately sized sheep for a dollar. 1 Without these forts the Turks, at least so said my companions, could never hold the country against the Badawin. There is a little amour propre in the assertion, but upon the whole it is true. There are no Mohammed Alis, Jazzars, and Ibrahim Pachas in these days. 256 Pilgrimage te Al-Madinah and Meccah. Shaykh Hamid ‘haldled’" (butchered) it, according to rule, and my companions soon prepared a feast of boiled mutton. But that sheep proved a ‘“ bone of contention.” The boy Mohammed had, in a fit of economy, sold its head to a Badawi for three piastres, and the others, dis- appointed in their anticipations of ‘‘haggis,” lost temper. With the ‘Demon’s” voluble tongue and impudent countenance in the van, they opened such a volley of raillery and sarcasm upon the young ‘‘tripe-seller,” that he in his turn became excited—furious. I had some difficulty to keep the peace, for it did not suit my interests that they should quarrel. But to do the Arabs justice, nothing is easier for a man who knows them than to work upon their good feelings. ‘‘ He is a stranger in your country—a guest!” acted as a charm; they listened patiently to Mohammed’s gross abuse, only promising to answer him when in Ais land, that is to say, near Meccah. But what especially soured our day was the report that Sa’ad, the great robber-chief, and his brother were in the field; consequently that our — march would be delayed for some time: every half-hour some fresh tattle from the camp or the coffee-house added fuel to the fire of our impatience. A few particulars about this Schiridorkalis of Al- Hijaz? may not be unacceptable. He is the chief of the Sumaydah and the Mahamid, two influential sub-families of the Hamidah, the principal family of the Beni-Harb tribe of Badawin. He therefore aspired to rule all the Hamidah, and through them the Beni-Harb, in which case he would have been, de facto, monarch of the Holy Land. But the Sharif of Meccah, and Ahmad Pasha, 1 To “halal” is to kill an aniinal according to Moslem rites: a word is wanted to express the act, and we cannot do better than to borrow it from tle people to whom the practice belongs. 2 He is now dead, and has been succeeded by a son worse than himself, AIII.—Fvom Yambw to Bir Abbas. Ae) the Turkish governor of the chief city, for some politi- cal reason degraded him, and raised up a rival in the person of Shaykh Fahd, another ruffian of a similar stamp, who calls himself chief of the Beni-Amr, the third sub-family of the Hamidah family. Hence all kinds of confusion. Sa’ad’s people, who number it is said 5000, resent, with Arab asperity, the insult offered to their chief, and beat Fahd’s, who do not amount to 800. Fahd, supported by the government, cuts off Sa’ad’s supplies. Both are equally wild and reckless, and—no- where doth the glorious goddess, Liberty, show a more brazen face than in this Eastern ‘‘Inviolate land of the brave and the free ;" both seize the opportunity of shooting troopers, of plundering travellers, and of closing the roads. This state of things continued till I left the Hijaz, when the Sharif of Meccah proposed, it was said, to take the field in person against the arch-robber. And, as will after- wards be seen in these pages, Sa’ad, had the audacity to turn back the Sultan’s Mahmil or litter—the ensign of Imperial power—and to shut the road against its cortége, because the Pashas of Al-Madinah and of the Damascus caravan would not guarantee his restitution to his former dignity. That such vermin is allowed to exist proves the imbecility of the Turkish government. The Sultan pays pensions in corn and cloth to the very chiefs who arm their varlets against him; and the Pashas, after purloin- ing all they can, hand over to their enemies the means of resistance. It is more than probable, that Abd al-Majid has never heard a word of truth concerning Al-Hijaz, and that-fulsome courtiers persuade him that men there tremble at his name. His government, however, is desirous, if report speaks truth, of thrusting Al-Hijaz upon the Egyptian, who on his side would willingly pay a large sum to avert such calamity. The Holy Land drains off Turkish gold and blood in abundance, and the VOL. |. K 258 - Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. lords of the country hold in it a contemptible position. If they catch a thief, they dare not hang hims)>; they must pay black-mail, and yet be shot at in every pass. They affect superiority over the Arabs, hate them, and are despised by them. Such in Al-Hijaz are the effects of the charter of Gulkhanah, a panacea, like Holloway’s Pills, for all the evils to which Turkish, Arab, Syrian, Greek, Egyptian, Persian, Armenian, Kurd, and Al- banian flesh is heir to. Such the results of the Tanzimat, the silliest copy of Europe’s folly—bureaucracy and centralisation—that the pen of empirical statecraft ever traced. Under a strong-handed and strong-hearted despotism, like Mohammed Ali’s, Al-Hijaz, in one genera- tion, might be purged of its pests. By a proper use of the blood feud; by vigorously supporting the Weaker against the stronger classes; by regularly defeating every Badawi who earns a name for himself; and, above all, by the exercise of unsparing, unflinching justice,? the few thousands of half-naked bandits, who now make the land a fighting field, would soon sink into utter insignifi- — 1 The greatest of all its errors was that of appointing to the provinces, instead of the single Pasha of the olden time, three ‘different governors, civil, military, and fiscal, all depending upon the supreme council at Constantinople. Thus each province has three plunderers instead of one, and its affairs are referred to a body that can take no interest in it. 2 Ziy4d bin Abihi was sent by Al-Mu’dwiyah, the Caliph, to reform Al-Basrah, a den of thieves ; he made aspeech, noticed that he meant to rule with the sword, and advised all offenders to leave the city. The inhabitants were forbidden under pain of death to appear in the streets after evening prayers, and dispositions were made to secure the execution of the penalty. Two hundred persons were put to death by the patrol during the first night, only five during the second, and not a drap of blood was shed afterwards. By similar severity, the French put an end to assassination at Naples, and the Austrians at Leghorn. We may deplore the necessity of. having recourse to such means, but it is a silly practice to salve the wound which requires the knife. XIII.—Frvom Yanbw to Biv Abbas. 259 cance. But to effect such end, the Turks require the old stratocracy, which, bloody as it was, worked with far less misery than the charter and the new code. What Milton calls The solid rule of civil government" has done wonders for the race that nurtured and brought to perfection an idea spontaneous to their organisation. The world has yet to learn that the admirable exotic will thrive amongst the country gentlemen of Monomo- tapa or the ragged nobility of Al-Hijaz.1 And it requires no prophetic eye to foresee the day when the Wabhhabis or the Badawin, rising en masse, will rid the land of its feeble conquerors.? Sa’ad, the Old Man of the Mountains, was described to me as a little brown Badawi; contemptible in appear- ance, but remarkable for courage and ready wit. He has for treachery a keen scent, which he requires to keep in exercise. A blood feud with Abd al-Muttalib, the present Sharif of Meccah, who slew his nephew, and the hostility of several Sultans, has rendered his life eventful. He lost all his teeth by poison, which would have killed him, had he not, after swallowing _ the potion, corrected it by drinking off a large pot- full of clarified butter. Since that time he has lived entirely upon fruits, which he gathers for himself, and 1 These remarks were written in 1853: I see no reason to change them in 1878. 2 A weak monarch, a degenerate government, a state whose cor- ruption is evidenced by moral decay, a revenue bolstered up by a system of treasury paper, which even the public offices discount at from three to six per cent., an army accustomed to be beaten, and dis- organised provinces; these, together with the proceedings of a ruth- less and advancing enemy, form the points of comparison between the Constantinople of the present day and the Byzantine metropolis eight hundred years ago. Fate has marked upon the Ottoman Empirein Europe “‘delenda est’: we are now witnessing the efforts of human energy and ingenuity to avert or to evade the fal. 260 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. coffee which he prepares with his own hands. In Sultan Mahmud’s time he received from Constantinople a gorgeous purse, which he was told to open, as it con- tained something for his private inspection. Suspect- ing treachery, he gave it for this purpose to a slave, bidding him carry it to some distance; the bearer was shot by a pistol cunningly fixed, like Rob Roy’s, in the folds of the bag. Whether this far-known story be “true or only well found,” it is certain that Shaykh Sa’ad now fears the Turks, even ‘when they bring gifts.” The Sultan sends, or is supposed to send him, presents of fine horses, robes of honour, and a large quantity of grain. But the Shaykh, trusting to his hills rather than to steeds, sells them ; he gives away the dresses to his slaves, and he distributes the grain amongst his clansmen. Of his character, men, as usual, tell two tales: some praise his charity, and call him the friend-of the poor, as certainly as he is a foe to the rich. Others, on the contrary, describe him as cruel, cold-blooded, and notably, even among Arabs, revengeful and avaricious. The truth probably lies between these two extremes, but I observed that those ot my companions who spoke most highly of the robber chief when at a distance seemed to be in the sudort freddr whilst under the shadow of his hills. Al-Hamra is the third station from Al-Madinah in the Darb Sultani, the ‘“‘Sultan’s” or ** High Road,” the Westerly line leading to Meccah along the sea-coast. When the robbers permit, the pilgrims prefer this route on account of its superior climate, the facility of pro- curing water and supplies, the vicinity of the sea, and the circumstance of its passing through ‘‘Badr,” the scene of the Prophet’s principal military exploits (a.H. 2). After mid-day, on the 21st July, when we had made up our minds that Fate had determined we should halt at Al- Hamra, a caravan arrived from Meccah; and the new travellers had interest to procure an escort, and permission AlII.—Fyvom Yambu to Biv Abbas. 261 to proceed without delay towards Al-Madinah. The good news filled us with joy. A little after four p.m. we urged our panting camels over the fiery sands to join the -Meccans, who were standing ready for the march, on the other side of the torrent bed. An hour afterwards we started in an Easterly direction. My companions having found friends and relations in the Meccan caravan,—the boy Mohammed’s elder brother, about whom more anon, was of the number,—were full of news and excitement. At sunset they prayed with unction: even Sa’ad and Hamid had not the face to sit their camels during the halt, when all around were washing, sanding themselves,’ and busy with their devo- tions. We then ate our suppers, remounted, and started once more. Shortly after night set in, we came to a ‘sudden halt. A dozen different reports rose to account for this circumstance, which was occasioned by a band of Badawin, who had manned a gorge, and sent forward a ‘‘ parliamentary,” ordering us forthwith to stop. They at first demanded money to let us pass; but at last, hearing that we were Sons of the Holy Cities, they granted us transit on the sole condition that the military,—whom they, like Irish peasants, hate and fear,—should return to whence they came. Upon this, our escort, 200 men, wheeled their horses round and galloped back to their barracks. We moved onwards, without, however, seeing any robbers; my camel-man pointed out their haunts, and showed me a small bird hovering over a place where he supposed water trickled from the rock. The fellow had attempted a sneer at my expense when the fray was impending. ‘* Why don’t you load your pistols, Effendi,” 1 When water cannot be obtained for ablution before prayers, Moslems clap the palms of their hands upon the sand; and draw them down the face and both fore-arms. This operatiori, which is per- formed once or twice--it varies in Generei schools—is called Tayammum. 262 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah he cried, “and get out of your litter, and show fight ? *‘ Because,” I replied as loudly, ‘tin my country, when dogs run at us, we thrash them with sticks.” This stopped Mansur’s mouth for a time, but he and I were never friends. Like the lowest orders of Orientals, he required to be ill-treated ; gentleness and condescension he seemed to consider a proof of cowardice or of imbe- cility. I began with kindness, but was soon compelled to use hard words at first, and then threats, which, though he heard them with frowns and mutterings, proguced manifest symptoms of improvement. “‘ Oignez vilain, il vous poindra! Poignez vilain, il vous oindra!”’ says the old French proverb, and the axiom is more valuable in the East even than in the West. Our night's jo urney had no other incident. We travelled over rising ground with the moon full in our faces; and, about midnight, we passed through another long straggling line of villages, called Jadaydah,’* or Al-Khayf? The principal part of it lies on the left of the road going to Al-Madinah; it has a fort like that of Al-Hamra, springs of tolerable drinking water, a Nakhil or date- ground, and a celebrated (dead) saint, Abd al-Rahim al- Burai. A little beyond it lies the Bughaz® or defile, where in a.D. 1811 Tussan Bey and his 8000 Turks were totally defeated by 25,000 Harbi Badawin and Wahhabis. é 1 I write this word as my companions pronounced it. “Burck- hardt similarly gives it ‘‘Djedeyde,”’ and Asi Bey “ Djideida.” Giovanni Fiuati wrongly calls the place ‘‘ Jedeed Bughaz,’’ which Mr. Bankes, his editor, rightly translates the ‘‘ new opening or pass."’ 2 Al-Khayf is a common name for places in this part of Arabia. The word literally means a declivity or a place built upon a declivity. 3 Bughaz means in Turkish the fauces, the throat, and signifies also here a gorge, or a mountain pass. It is the word now commonly used in Al-Hijaz for the classical ‘‘Nakb,"” or ‘‘ Mazik."’ Vincent (Periplus) errs in deriving the word from the Italian ‘‘ Bocca.” 4 Giovanni Finati, who was: present at this hard-fought field XITI.—From Yambw to Biv Abbas. 263 This is a famous attacking-point of the Beni-Harb. In former times both Jazzar Pasha, thecelebrated “butcher” of Syria, and Abdullah Pasha of Damascus, were baffled at the gorge of Jadaydah’; and this year the commander of the Syrian caravan, afraid of risking an attack at a place so ill-omened, avoided it by marching upon Meccah vid the Desert road of Nijd. At four a.m., having travelled about twenty-four miles due East, we encamped at Bir Abbas, as a soldier in Tussun’s army, gives a lively description of the disas- trous ‘“‘day of Jadaydah"’ in vol. i. of his work. 1 This Abdullah, Pasha of Damascus, led the caravan in a.p. 1756. When the Shaykhs of the Harb tribe came to receive their black-mail, he cut off their heads, and sent the trophies to Stambul. During the next season the Harb were paralysed by the blow, but in the third year they levied 80,000 men, attacked the caravan, pillaged it, and slew every Turk that fell into their hands. CHAPTER = XIV. FROM BIR ABBAS TO AL-MADINAH. Tue 22nd July was a grand trial of temper to our little party. The position of Bir Abbas exactly resembles that of Al-Hamra, except that the bulge of the hill-girt Fiumara is at this place about two miles wide. There are the usual stone-forts and palm- leaved hovels for the troopers, stationed here to hold the place and to escort travellers, with a coffee-shed, and a hut or two, called a bazar, but no village. Our encamping ground was a bed of loose sand, with which the violent Samum filled the air; not a tree or a bush was in sight; a species of hardy locust and swarms of flies were the only remnants of animal life: the scene was a caricature of Sind. Although we were now some hundred feet, to judge by the water-shed, above the level of the sea, the mid-day sun scorched even through the tent; our frail tenement was more than once blown down, and the heat of the sand made the work of repitching it painful. Again my companions, after breakfasting, hurried to the coffee-house, and returned one after the other with dispiriting reports. Then they either quar- relled desperately about nothing, or they threw them- selves on their rugs, pretending to sleep in very sulkiness. The lady Maryam soundly rated her surly son for refusing to fill her chibuk for the twelfth time that morning, with the usual religious phrases, ‘Allah direct thee into the right way, O my son!”—meaning that he was going to the bad,—and ‘‘O my calamity, thy mother is a lone woman, O Allah!”—equivalent to the AIV.—F rom Bir Abbas to Al-Madinah, 265 European parental plaint about grey hairs being brought down in sorrow to the grave. Before noon a small © caravan which followed us came in with two dead bodies, _—a trooper shot by the Badawin, and an Albanian killed by sun-stroke, or the fiery wind.’ Shortly after mid-day a Caravan, travelling in an opposite direction, passed by us; it was composed chiefly of Indian pilgrims, habited in correct costume, and hurrying towards Meccah in hot haste. They had been allowed to pass unmolested, because probably a pound sterling could not have been collected from a hundred pockets, and Sa’ad the Robber sometimes does a cheap good deed. But our party, 1 The natives of Al-Hijaz assured me that in their Allah-favoured land, the Samum never kills a man. I ‘doubt the fact.” This Arnaut’s body was swollen and decomposing rapidly, the true diagnostic of death by the poison-wind. (See Ibn Batuta’s voyage, ‘“Kabul.”) However, as troopers drink hard, the Arabs may still be right, the Samum doing half the work, arrack the rest. -I travelled ‘during the months of July, August, and September, and yet never found myself inconvenienced by the ‘ poison-wind”’ sufficiently to make me tie my Kufiyah, Badawi-fashion, across my mouth. At the same time I can believe that to an invalid it would be trying, and that a man almost worn out by hunger and fatigue would receive from it a coup degrdce. Niebuhr attributes the extraordinary mortality of his companions, amongst other causes, to a want of stimulants. Though these might doubtless be useful in the cold weather, or in the mountains of Al-Yaman, for men habituated to them from early youth, yet nothing, I believe, would be more fatal than strong drink when travelling through the Desert in summer heat. The common beverage should be water or lemonade; the strongest stimulants coffee or tea. It is what the natives of the country do, and doubt- less it is wise to take their example. The Duke of Wellington’s dictum about the healthiness of India to an abstemious man does not require to be quoted. Were it more generally followed, we should have less of sunzstroke and sudden ceath in our Indian armies, when soldiers, ted with beef and brandy, are called out to face. the violent heat. . At the same time it must be remembered, that foul and stag- _ fant water, abounding in organic matter, is. the. cause of half the “diarrhcea and dysentry which prove so fatal to travellers “in thése ‘regions. To the water-drinker, therefore, a pocket- ae is indis- vensable. : sat 266 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah.’ having valuables with them, did not seem to gather heart from this event. In the evening we all went out to see some Arab Shaykhs who were travelling to Bir Abbas in order to receive their salaries. Without such dowceurs, it is popularly said and believed, no stone walls could enable a Turk to hold Al-Hijaz against the hill-men. Such was our system in Afghanistan—most unwise, teaching im linine the subject to despise rulers subject to blackmail. Besides which, these highly paid Shaykhs do no good. When a fight takes place or a road is shut, they profess inability to restrain their clansmen; and the richer they are, of course the more formidable they become. The party looked well; they were Harb, dignified old men in the picturesque Arab costume, with erect forms, fierce thin features, and white beards, well armed, and mounted upon high-bred and handsomely equipped dromedaries from Al-Shark.’ Preceded by their half-naked clansmen, carrying spears twelve or thirteen feet long, garnished with single or double tufts of black ostrich feathers, and ponderous matchlocks, which were discharged on approaching the fort, they were not without a kind of barbaric pomp. Immediately after the reception of these Shaykhs, there was a parade of the Arnaut Irregular horse. About 500 of them rode out to the sound of the Nakis or little kettle-drum, whose puny notes strikingly contrasted with this really martial sight. The men, it is true, were mounted on lean Arab and Egyptian nags, ragged- looking as their clothes; and each trooper was armed 1 Al-Shark, ‘the East, "is the popular name in the Hijaz for the Western region as far as Baghdad and Bassorah, especially Nijd. The latter province supplies the Holy Land with its choicest horses and camels. The great heats of the parts near the Red Sea appear pre- "judicial to animal generation; whereas the lofty table-lands and the ‘broad pastures of Nijd, combined with the attention paid by the people to purity of blood, have rendered it the greatest breeding country in Arabia. al AIV.—From Biv Abbas to Al-Madinah. 267 in his own way, though all had swords, pistols and matchlocks, or firelocks of some kind. But they rode hard as Galway ‘“buckeens,” and there was a gallant reckless look about the fellows which prepossessed me ‘strongly in their favour. Their animals, too, though notable *‘ screws,” were well trained, and their accoutre- ments were intended for use, not show. I watched their manceuvres with curiosity. They left their cantonments one by one, and, at the sound of the tom-tom, by degrees formed a ‘‘plump” or ‘‘ herse ’—column? it could not be called—all huddled together in confusion. Presently the little kettle-drum changed its noteand the parade its aspect. All the serried body dispersed as would Light Infantry, now continuing their advance, then hanging back, then making a rush, and all the time keeping up a hot 4re upon the enemy. At another signal they suddenly put their horses to full speed, and, closing upon the centre, again advanced in a dense mass. After three-quarters of an hour parading, sometimes charging singly, often in bodies, to the right, to the left, and straight in front, halt- ing when requisite, and occasionally retreating, Parthian- like, the Arnauts turned en masse towards their lines. As they neared them, all broke off and galloped in, ventve &@ tevye, discharging their shotted guns with much recklessness against objects assumed to denote the enemy. But ball-cartridge seemed to be plentiful hereabouts ; during thé whole of this and the next day, I remarked that bullets, notched for noise, were fired away in mere fun.? x I mean acivilised column. ‘‘Herse’’ is the old military name for a column opposed to ‘‘ Haye,” a line. So we read that at far-famed Cressy the French fought en battaille a haye, the English drawn up en herse. This appears to have been the national predilection of that day. In later times, we and vur neighbours changed style, ‘the French preferring heavy columns, the English extending themselves into lines. ; a The Albanians, delighting in the noise of musketry, notch the ball in crder to make it sing the louder. When fighting, they often 268 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and M eccal. Barbarous. as these movements may appear to the Cavalry Martinet of the ‘‘ good old school,” yet to some- thing of the kind will the tactics of that arm of the service, I humbly opine, return, when the perfect use of the rifle, the revolver, and field artillery shall have made the present necessarily slow system fatal. Also, if we adopt the common sense opinion of a modern writer,’ and determine that ‘individual prowess, skill in single com- bats, good horsemanship, and sharp swords render cavalry formidable,” these semi-barbarians are wiser in their generation than the civilised, who never practise arms (properly socalled), whose riding-drill never made a good rider, whose horses are over-weighted, and whose swords are worthless. They have yet another point of superiority over us; they cultivate the individuality of the soldier, whilst we strive to make him a mere automaton. In the days of European chivalry, battles were a system of well-fought duels. This was succeeded by the age of discipline, when, to use the language of Rabelais, ‘* men seemed rather a consort of organ-pipes, or mutual concord of the wheels of a clock, than an infantry and cavalry, or army of soldiers.” Our aim should now be to combine the merits of both systems; to make men individually adopt the excellent plan—excellent, when rifles are not procurable— of driving a long iron nail through the bullet, and fixing its head into the cartridge.. Thus the cartridge is strengthened, the bullet is rifled, and the wound which it inflicts is death. Round balls are apt to pass into and out of savages without killing them, and many an Afghan, after being shot or run through the body, has mortally wounded his English adversary before falling. It is false philan- thropy, also, to suppose that in battle, especially when a campaign is commencing, it is sufficient to maim, not to kill, the enemy. Nothing encourages men to fight so much, as a good chance of escaping with a wound—especially a flesh wound. I venture to hope that the reader will not charge these sentiments with cruelty. He who ren- ders warfare fatal to all engaged in it will be the greatest benefactor the world has yet known. . 1 The late Captain Nolan. XIV.—From Bir Abbas to Al-Madinah. 26g excellent in the use of weapons, and still train them to act naturally and habitually in concert. The French have given a model to Europe in the Chasseurs de Vincennes,—a body capable of most perfect combination, -yet never more truly excellent than when each man is fighting alone. We, I suppose, shall imitate them at some future time. A distant dropping of fire-arms ushered in the evening of our first melancholy day at Bir Abbas. This, said my companions, was a sign that the troops and the hill-men were fighting. They communicated the intelligence, as if it ought to be an effectual check’ upon my impatience to proceed; it acted, however, in the contrary way. I supposed that the Badawin, after _ battling out the night, would be less warlike the next day; the others, however, by no means agreed in opinion with me. At Yambu’ the whole party had boasted loudly that the people of Al-Madinah could keep their Badawin in order, and had twitted the boy Mohammed with their superiority in this respect to his townsmen, the Meccans. But now that a trial was impending, I saw none of the fearlessness so conspicuous when peril was only pos- sible. The change was charitably to be explained by the presence of their valuables; the ‘ Sahkharahs,” like’ conscience, making cowards of them all. But the young Meccan, who, having sent on his box by sea from Yambu’ 1 The first symptom of improvement will bea general training to the Bayonet exercise. The British is, and for years has been, the only army in Europe that does not learn the use of this weapon: how long does it intend to be the sole authority on the side of ignor- ance? We laughed at the Calabrese levies, who in the French war threw away their muskets and drew their stilettos; and we cannot understand why the Indian would always prefer a sabre to a rifle. Yet we read without disgust of our men being compelled, by want of © proper training, to ‘“‘club their muskets” in hand-to-hand fights,— when they have in the bayonet the most formidable of offensive weapons,—and of the Kafirs and other savages wresting the piece, after drawing off its fire, from its unhappy possessor’s grasp. 240 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. to Jeddah, felt merry, like the empty traveller, would not lose the opportunity to pay off old scores. He taunted the Madinites till they stamped and raved with fury. At last, fearing some violence, and feeling answerable for the boy’s safety to his family, I seized him by the nape of his neck and the upper posterior portion of his nether garments, and drove him before me into the tent. : When the hubbub had subsided, and all sat after sup- per smoking the pipe of peace in the cool night air, I re- joined my companions, and found them talking, as usual, about old Shaykh Sa’ad. The scene was appropriate for the subject. In the distance rose the blue peak said to be his eyrie, and the place was pointed out with fearful mean- ing. As it is inaccessible to strangers, report has con- verted it into another garden of Iram. A glance, how- ever, at its position and formation satisfied me that the bubbling springs, the deep forests, and the orchards of apple-trees, quinces and pomegranates, with which my companions furnished it, were a ‘‘ myth,” whilst some experience of Arab ignorance of the art of defence suggested to me strong doubts about the existence of an impregnable fortress on the hill-top. The mountains, however, looked beautiful in the moonlight, and distance gave them a semblance of mystery well suited to the themes which they inspired. That night I slept within my Shugduf, for it would have been mere madness to sleep on the open plain in a place so infested by banditti. The being armed is but a poor precaution near this robbers’ den. If you wound a man in the very act of plundering, an exorbitant sum must be paid for blood-money. If you kill him, even to save your life, then adieu to any chance of escaping destruction. Roused three or four times during the night by jackals and dogs prowling about our little camp, I observed that my companions, who had agreed amongst themselves to keep watch by turns, had all AIV.—From Biv Abbas to Al-Madinah. 271 fallen into a sound sleep. However, when we awoke in the morning, the usual inspection of goods and chattels showed that nothing was gone. , The next day (July 23rd) was a forced halt, a sore - stimulant to the traveller’s ill-humour; and the sun, the sand, the dust, the furious Samum, and the want of certain small supplies, aggravated our grievance. My sore foot had been inflamed by a dressing of onion skin which the lady Maryam had insisted upon applying to it. Still being resolved to push forward by any conveyance that could be procured, I offered ten dollars fora fresh dromedary to take me on to Al-Madinah. Shaykh Hamid also declared he would leave his box in charge of a friend and accom- pany me. Sa’ad the Demon flew into a passion at the idea of any member of the party escaping the general evil; and he privily threatened Mohammed_to cut off the legs of any camel that ventured into camp. This, the boy—who, like a boy of the world as he was, never lost an opportunity of making mischief—inst7ntly communi- cated to me, and it brought on a furious dispute. Sa’ad was reproved and apologised for by the rest of the party; and presently he himself was pacified, principally, I believe, by the intelligence that no camel was to be hired at Bir Abbas. One of the Arnaut garrison, who had obtained leave to go to Al-Madinah, came to ask us if we could mount him, as otherwise he should be obliged to walk the whole way. With him we debated the propriety of attempting a passage through the hills by one of the many by-paths that traverse them: the project was amply discussed, and duly rejected. We passed the day in the usual manner; all crowded 1 I began to treat it hydropathically with a cooling bandage, but my companions declared that the water was poisoning the wound, and truly it seemed to get worse every day. This idea is prevalent throughout Al-Hijaz; even the Badawin, after once washing a. cut or a sore, never allow air or-water to touch it. 272 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. together for shelter under the tent. Even Maryam joined us, loudly informing Ali, her son, that his mother was no longer a woman but a man; whilst our party generally, cowering away from the fierce glances of the sun, were either eating or occasionally smoking, or were occupied in cooling and drinking water. About sunset-time came a report that we were to start that night. None could believe that such good was in store for us ; before sleeping, however, we placed each camel’s pack apart, so as to be ready for loading at a moment’s notice; and we took care to watch that our Badawin did not drive their animals away to any distance. At last, about 11 p.m., as the moon was beginning to peep over the Eastern veil of rock, was heard the glad sound of the little kettle-drum calling the Albanian troopers to mount and march. In the dticaebst | possible time all made ready; and, hurriedly crossing the sandy flat, we found ourselves in company with three or four Caravans, forming one large body for better defence against the dreaded Hawadmid.! By dint of much manceuvring, arms in hand,—Shaykh Hamid and the “Demon” took the prominent parts,—we, though the last comers, managed to secure places about the middle of the line. On such occasions all push forward reck- lessly, as an English mob in the strife of sight-seeing ; the rear, being left unguarded, is the place of danger, and none seeks the honour of occupying it. We travelled that night up the Fiumara in an Easterly direction, and at early dawn (July 24th) found ourselves in an ill-famed gorge called Shuab al-Hajj,? the “ Pilgrimage Pass.” The loudest talkers became silent as we neared it, and their countenances showed apprehension written in legible characters. Presently from the high precipi. - 1 Hawamid is the plural of Hamidah, Shaykh Sa'ad’s tribe. a -- --2-Shuab properly means a path through mountains, or.a water: “course between hills. It is generally used in Arabia fora‘ “Valley,” and sometimes instead-of Nakb, or the Turkish Bughaz; a“! Pass," AIV.—From Bir Abbas to Al-Madinah. 2°73 tous cliff on our left, thin blue curls of smoke—somehow or other they caught every eye—rose in the air; and in- stantly afterwards rang the sharp cracks of the hill- ~ men’s matchlocks, echoed by the rocks on the right. My Shugduf had been broken by the camel’s falling during the night, so I called out to Mansur that we had better splice the framework with a bit of rope: he looked up, saw me laughing, and with an ejaculation of disgust dis- appeared. A number of Badawin were to be seen swarming like hornets over the crests of the hills, boys as well as men carrying huge weapons, and climbing with the agility of cats. They took up comfortable places on the cut-throat eminence, and began firing upon us with perfect convenience to themselves. The height of the hills and the glare of the rising sun prevented my seeing objects very distinctly, but my companions pointed out to me places where the rock had been scarped, and where a kind of rough stone breastwork—the Sangah of » Afghanistan—had been piled up as a defence, anda rest for thelong barrelofthematchlock. It wasuselesstochallenge the Badawin to come down and fight us like men upon the plain; they will do this on the Eastern coast of Arabia, but rarely, if ever, in Al-Hijaz. And it was equally unprofitable for our escort to fire upon a foe en- sconced behind stones. Besides which, had a robber been killed, the whole country would have risen to a man; with a force of 3,000 or 4,000, they might have gained courage to overpower a Caravan, and in such acasenota soul’ would have escaped. As it was, the Badawin directed their fire principally against the Albanians. Some of these called for assistance to the party of Shaykhs that accompanied us from Bir Abbas; but the dignified old men, dismounting and squatting in council round their pipes, came to the conclusion that, as the robbers would probably turn a deaf ear to their words, they had better spare themselves the trouble of speaking. 274 Pilgvimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. We had therefore nothing-to do but to blaze away as much powder, and to veil ourselves in as inuch smoke, as | possible; the result of the affair was that we lost twelve | men, besides camels and other beasts of burden. Though | the bandits showed no symptoms of bravery, and | confined themselves to slaughtering the enemy from their | hill-top, my companions Beanres to “ehasidey this question- | able affair a most gallant exploit. | After another hour’s hurried ride through the Wady | | Sayyalah, appeared Shuhada, to which we pushed on, “‘ Like nighted swain on lonely road, | When close behind fierce goblins tread." | Shuhada is a place which derives its name, “The Martyrs,” because here are supposed to be buried forty braves that fell in one of Mohammed’s many skirmishes. — Some authorities consider it the cemetery of the people of Wady Sayyalah.1. The once populous valley is now. barren, and one might easily pass by the consecrated spot without observing a few ruined walls and a cluster of rude Badawin graves, each an oval of rough stones lying beneath the thorn trees on the left of and a little off the road. Another half hour took us to a favourite halting. place, Bir al-Hindi,’ so called from some forgotten Indian r Others attribute these graves to the Beni Salim, or Salmah, an extinct race of Hijazi Badawin. Near Shuhada is Jabal Warkan, one of the mountains of Paradise, also called Irk al- -Zabyat, or Thread of the Winding Torrent. The Prophet named it “ Hamt,” (sultriness), when he passed through it on his way to the Battle of Badr. Healso called the valley ‘* Sajasaj,” (plural of Sajsaj, a temper- ate situation), declared it was a valley of heaven, that 70 prophets had prayed there before himself, that Moses with 70,000 Israelites had traversed it on his way to Meccah, and that, before the Resur- rection day, Isa bin Maryam should pass through it with the inten- tion of performing the Greater and the Lesser Pilgrimages. = are the past and such the future honours of the place. 2 The Indians sink wells in Arabia for the same reason which impels them o dig tanks at home,—'‘nam ke waste,'’—‘ for the -pur- pose of name"; thereby denoting, together with a laudable desire X1IV.—From Biv Abbas to Al-Madinah. 275 who dug a well there. But we left it behind, wishing to put as much space as we could between our tents and the nests of the Hamidah. Then quitting the Fiumara, we _ struck Northwards into a well-trodden road running over stony rising ground. The heat became sickening; here, and in the East generally, at no time is the sun more dan- gerous than between eight and ninea.m. Still we hurried on. It was not before eleven a.m. that we reached our destination, a rugged plain covered with stones, coarse gravel, and thorn trees in abundance ; and surrounded by inhospitable rocks, pinnacle-shaped, of granite below, and: in the upper parts fine limestone. The well was at least two miles distant, and not a hovel was in sight; a few Badawi children belonging to an outcast tribe fed their _starveling goats upon the hills. This place is called _‘*Suwaykah”’; it is, I was told, that celebrated in the history of the Arabs.’ Yet not for this reason did my com- rades look lovingly upon its horrors : their boxes were safe and with the eye of imagination they could now behold their homes. That night we must have travelled about twenty-two miles ; the direction of the road was due East, and the only remarkable feature in the ground was its steady rise. a ie en ere ' for posthumous fame, a notable lack of ingenuity in securing it. a For it generally happens that before the third generation has fallen, the well and the tank have either lost their original names, or have exchanged them for others newer and better known. 1 Suwaykah derives its name from the circumstance that in the Be dna. or third, year of the Hijrah (Hégira), Mohammed here attacked Abu Sufiyan, who was out on a foray with 200 men. The Infidels, in their headlong fight, lightened their beasts by emptying their bags of ‘‘ Sawik.’’ This is the old and modern Arabic name ' for a dish of green grain, toasted, pounded, mixed with dates or sugar, and eaten on journeys when it is found difficult tocook. Such is the present signification of the word: M. C. de Perceval (vol. iii., p. 84) gives it a different and a now unknown meaning. And our popular authors erroneously call the aftair the ‘‘ War of the Meal- sacks.” 276 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. We pitched the tent under a villainous Mimosa, the tree whose shade is compared by poetic Badawin to the false friend who deserts you in your utmost need. I enlivened the hot dull day by a final affair with Sa’ad the Demon. His alacrity at Yambu’ ob- tained for him the loan of a couple of dollars: he had bought grain at Al-Hamra, and now we were near Al-Madinah: sfill there was not a word about repayment. And knowing that an Oriental debtor discharges his debt as he pays his rent,—namely, with the greatest unwillingness,—and that, on the other hand, an Oriental creditor will devote the labour of a year. to recovering a sixpence, I resolved to act asa native of the country, placed in my position, would; and by dint of sheer dunning and demanding pledges, to recover my property. About noon Sa’ad the Demon, after a furiousrush, bare-headed, through the burning sun, flung the two dollars down upon my carpet : however, he presently recovered temper, and, as subsequent events showed, I had chosen the right part. Had he not been forced torepay his debt, he would have despised me asa “freshman,” and would have coveted more. As it was, the boy Mohammed bore the brunt of unpopular feeling, my want of liberality being traced to his secret and perfidious admonitions. He sup- ported his burden the more philosophically, because, as he notably calculated, every dollar saved at Al-Madinah would be spent under his stewardship at Meccah. : At four p.m. (July 24th) we left Suwaykah, all of us in the crossest of humours, and travelled ina N.E. direction. So ‘out oftemper ’’ weremy companions, that at sunset, of the whole party, Omar Effendi was the only one who would eat supper. Therest sat upon the ground, pouting, grumbling, and—they had been allowed to exhaust my stock of Latakia—smoking Syrian tobacco as if it were a grievance. Such a game at naughty children, I have seldom seen played even by Oriental men. The boy Mohammed XIV.—Fyvom Biv Abbas to Al-Madinah. 277 privily remarked to me that the camel-men’s beards were now in his fist,—meaning that we were out of their kins- ‘men, the Harb’s, reach. He soon found an opportunity to quarrel with them; and, because one of his questions “was not answered in the shortest possible time, he pro- ceeded to abuse them in language which sent their hands flying in the direction of their swords. Despite, however, this threatening demeanour, the youth, knowing that he now could safely go to any lengths, continued his ill words, and Mansur’s face was so comically furious, that I felt too much amused to interfere. At last the camel-men dis- appeared, thereby punishing us most effectually for our sport. The road lay up rocky hill and down stony vale; a tripping and stumbling dromedary had been substituted for the usual montuve: the consequence was that we had either a totter or a tumble once per mile during the whole of that long night. In vain the now fiery Mohammed called for the assistance of the camel-men with the full force of his lungs: ‘‘ Where be those owls, those oxen of the oxen, those beggars, those cut-off ones, those foreigners, those Sons of Flight}? withered be their hands! palsied be their fingers! the foul mustachioed fellows, basest of the Arabs that ever hammered tent-peg, sneaking cats, goats of Al- Akhfash !2. Truly I will torture them the torture of the oil, the mines of infamy! the cold of countenance!*” The Badawi brotherhood of the camel-men looked at him wickedly, muttering the while,—“ By Allah! andby Allah! 1 A popular but not a bad pun— Harb"’ (Fight), becomes, by the alteration of the H, ‘‘ Harb” (Flight). 2 The old Arabic proverb is ‘‘ A greater wiseacre than the goat of Akhfash"’; it is seldom intelligible to the vulgar. 3 That is to say, ‘I will burn them (metaphorically) as the fiery wick consumes the oil,’’—a most idiomatic Hijazi threat. 4 A“ cold- of-countenance"’ isa fool. Arabs use the word ‘cold’ in a peculiar way. ‘ May Allah refrigerate thy countenance !’” 7. é. may it show misery and want. ‘“ By Allah, a cold speech ! ! that is’ to say, a silly or an abusive tirade. 278, Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. { and by Allah! O boy, we will flog thee like a hound when ; we catch thee in the Desert!” All our party called upon him to desist, but his temper had got completely the upper hand over his discretion, and he expressed himself in such classic and idiomatic Hijazi, that I had not the heart to stop him. Some days after our arrival at Al-Madinah, Shaykh Hamid warned him seriously never again to go such perilous lengths, as the Beni Harb were celebrated for shooting or poniarding the man who ventured to use to them even the mild epithet **O jackass!” And in the quiet of the city the boy Mohammed, like a sobered man shuddering at dangers braved when drunk, hearkened with discomposure and penitence to his friend’s words. The only immediate consequence of his abuse was that my broken Shugduf became a mere ruin, and we passed the dark hours perched like two birds upon the only entire bits of framework the cots contained. The sun had nearly risen (July 25th) before I shook off _ the lethargic effects of such a night. Allaround me were - hurrying their camels, regardless of rough ground, and not a soul spoke a word tohisneighbour. ‘ Arethererobbers in sight?” was the natural question. ‘No!” replied Mohammed ; ‘they are walking with their eyes,’ they will presently see their homes!” Rapidly we passed the Wady al-Akik,? of which, : **O my friend, this is Akik, then stand by it, Endeavouring to be distracted by love, if not really a lover,” 8 OS x1 That is to say, they would use, if necessary, the dearest and noblest parts of their bodies (their eyes) to do the duty of the basest (i.e. their feet). 2 Writers mention two Al-Akik. The superior comprises the — whole site of Al-Madinah, extending from the Western Ridge, men- tioned below, to the cemetery Al-Bakia. The inferior is the Fiumara here alluded to; it is on the Meccan road, about four miles S.W. of Al-Madinah, and its waters fall into the Al;Hamra torrent. It is called the ‘‘ Blessed Valley ' because the Prophet was ordered by an angel to pray in it. 3 The esoteric meaning of this couplet is, “ Man! thisis a lovely — XIV.—From Bir Abbas to Al-Madinah. 279 and a thousand other such pretty things, have been said by the Arab poets. It was as ‘‘dry as summer’s dust,” and its ‘‘ beautiful trees”’ appeared in the shape of vege- tablemummies, Half an hour after leaving the ‘ Blessed ‘Valley’ we came toa huge flight of steps roughly cut in a long broad line of black scoriaceous basalt. This is termed the Mudarraj or flight of steps over the western ridge of the so-called Al-Harratayn.’ It is holy ground; for the Apostle spoke well of it. Arrived at the top, we passed through a lane of dark lava, with steep banks on both sides, and after a few at tahee a full view of the city sud- denly opened upon us.? We halted our beasts as if by word of command. All of us descended, in imitation of the pious of old, and sat down, jaded and hungry as we were, to feast our eyes with a view of the Holy City. “OQ Allah! this is the Harim (sanctuary) of Thy Apostle; make it to us a Protection from Hell Fire, and a Refuge from Eternal Punishment! O open the Gates of Thy Mercy, and let us pass through them to the Land of Joy!” and “O Allah, bless the last of Prophets, the Seal of Prophecy, with Blessings in number portion of God’s creation: then stand by it, and here s learn to love the perfections of thy Supreme l’riend.”’ x Al-Harratayn for Al-Harratani, the oblique case of the dual and plural noun being universally used for the nominative in colloquial Arabic. The other one of the Two Ridges will be described in a future part of this Book. _2 The city is first seen from the top of the valley called Nakb, or Shuab Ali, close to the Wady al-Akik, a long narrow pass, about five miles from Al-Madinah. Here, according to some, was the Mosque Zu’l Halifah, where the Prophet put on the Pilgrim’s garb when travelling to Meccah. It is also called ‘The Mosque of the Tree,’ because near it grew a fruit tree under which the Prophet twice sat. Iba Jubayr considers that the Harim (or sacred precincts of Al- Madinah) is the space enclosed by three points, Zu’l Halifah, Mount - Ohod, and the Mosque of Kuba. To the present day pilgrims doff their worldly garments at Zu’! Halifah. 280 Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah. as the Stars of Heaven, and the Waves of the Sea, and the Sands of the Waste—bless him, O Lord of Might and Majesty, as long as the Corn-field and the Date- grove continue to feed Mankind?!” And again, “Live, for ever, O Most Excellent of Prophets!—live in the Shadow of Happiness during the Hours of Night and the Times of Day, whilst the Bird of the Tamarisk (the dove) moaneth like the childless Mother, whilst the West-wind bloweth gently over the Hills of Nijd, and the Lightning flasheth bright in the Firmament of Al-Hijaz!” Such were the poetical exclamations that rose all around me, showing how deeply tinged with imagination | becomes the language of the Arab under the influence of strong passion or religious enthusiasm. I now under- stood the full value of a phrase in the Moslem ritual, ‘‘And when his” (the pilgrim’s) ‘eyes shall fall upon the Trees of Al-Madinah, let him raise his Voice and bless _ the Apostle with the choicest of Blessings.” In all) the fair view before us nothing was more striking, after the desolation through which we had passed, than the gardens and orchards about the town. It was impossible not to enter into the spirit of my com- panions, and truly I believe that for some minutes my enthusiasm rose as high as theirs. But presently when we remounted,’ the traveller returned strong upon me: I made a rough sketch of the town, put questions about the principal buildings, and in fact collected materials for the next chapter. 1 That is to say, ‘‘throughout all ages and all nations." The Arabs divide the world into two great bodies: first themselves, and, secondly, *’Ajami,"’ é.¢. all that are not Arabs. Similar bi-partitions are the Hindus and Mlenchhas, the Jews and Gentiles, the Greeks and Barbarians, &c., &c. _ 2 Robust religious men, especially those belonging to the school of Al-Malik, enter into Al-Madinah, after the example of Ali, on — “foot, ‘reverently, as the pilgrims approach Meccah, XIV.—From Bir bas to Al-Madinah. 281 The distance traversed that night was about twenty- two miles in a direction varying from easterly to north- easterly. We reached Al-Madinah on the 25th July, thus taking nearly eight days to travel over little more than 130 miles, This journey is performed with camels in four days, and a good dromedary will do it without difficulty in half that time.’ 1 Barbosa makes three days’ journey from Yambu’ to Al- Madinah, D’Herbelot eight, and Ovington six. The usual time is from four to five days. A fertile source of error to home geo- graphers, computing distances in Arabia, is their neglecting the difference between the slow camel travelling and the fast dromedary riding. The following is a synopsis of our stations :— Miles. 1. From Yambu’, 18th July, to Musahhal, N.E. . . . ay 2. From Musabhal, roth July, to Bir Sa’id,S.andE. . 34764 miles 3. From Bir Sa’id, 2oth July, to Al-Hamra, DE’ 14) 4. From Al-Hamra, 21st July, to Bir Abbas, E. . . . 24 5. From Bir Abbas, 23rd July, to Suwaykah, E. . . . 22; 68miler 6. From Suwaykah, 24th July, to Al-Madinah, N. and E. 22 Total English miles . . 132 pe : ‘ Teer ce ’ Md . + a gh, ting ‘ ty Cee Ae PEaSY pet: ‘a: 4 - ar 1b ad mC teol 3 ig Beal rests be hc ~