Chapter 27 of 44 · 3924 words · ~20 min read

Part 27

Finding that I was not allowed to stir from the place where I was, I resigned myself in patience, and tried to take occasionally a little exercise round the town, when roving about, sometimes on foot, sometimes on horseback, I made by degrees a general survey of the town, which I have incorporated into the accompanying ground-plan, which, though very imperfect, and not pretending in any way to absolute accuracy, will nevertheless serve to give the reader a fair idea of the place.

[Footnote 41: I will here remark that I think this form, Felláta, which is usual in Bórnu and the neighbouring countries, is in its origin a plural, though it is continually employed also for the singular.]

[Footnote 42: Jackson’s Account of Morocco, p. 100.]

[Footnote 43: We have here an evident proof that a certain degree of civilization spread from Bórnu over the countries to the east. Kaskú is a slight variation of the Kanúri word “kásukú.”]

CHAP. L.

DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN. — ARRIVAL OF THE SULTAN. — FINAL DEPARTURE.

The town of Más-eñá extends over a considerable area, the circumference of which measures about seven miles; but only about half of this area is inhabited, the principal quarter being formed in the midst of the town on the north and west sides of the palace of the sultan, while a few detached quarters and isolated yards lie straggling about as outposts. The most characteristic feature of the place consists in a deep trough- like depression or bottom, stretching out to a great length, and intersecting the town from east to west, in the same manner as the town of Kanó is intersected by the Jákara; for this hollow of the capital of Bagírmi, after the rainy season, is filled with water, and on this account is called “bedá” by the natives, and “el bahr” by the Arabs, while during part of the dry season it is clothed with the richest verdure. It is remarkable that not only in this respect the town of Más- eñá resembles that of Kanó, but, like the great market-place of Háusa, its surface is also broken by many other hollows, which contain the wells, and during the rainy season are changed into deep ponds, which, by accumulating all the refuse of the town, cause a great deal of insalubrity; but in general the soil, consisting of sand, dries very quickly after a fall of rain.

[Illustration: _To face p._ 388. _of Vol. III._

PLAN OF THE TOWN OF MÁS-EÑA.

1. The house where I lodged, represented here also on a larger scale.

2. The palace of the sultan, surrounded by a strong wall 18 feet high, and 10 feet thick, built of baked bricks, but at present in decay.

_a._ Public hall of audience.

_b._ Hut of kadamánge.

_c._ Entrance-hall, or hut used as a parlour.

_d._ Court-yard in which I had an audience with the king, while he himself was in room _e_.

3. House of the fácha.

4. Mosque.

5. Open square in front of the palace, planted with trees.

6. House of zérma.

7. House of the fáki Sámbo.

8. House of the chiróma.

9. House of the máina Beládemí.

10. Market-place.

11. Tomb of ʿAlí Fenjár, the great chief of Miltú, who two years previous to my visit to the place died here at an advanced age and much respected. The tomb is well shaded by a kúrna-tree.

12. A large deep hollow with wells, but in the rainy season full of water.

13. A seat or diván of clay—“dágalí” in Kanúri, “teláng” in tar Bágrimma.

14. Huts for common strangers and pilgrims.

15. Hut of Fáki Íbrahím and his companion.

16. House of female patient.

17. Kitchen-gardens.]

The principal quarter of the town lies on the south side of the great hollow or bedá; but even this very central quarter is far from being densely inhabited, and was less so during the first month of my residence, owing to the absence of the sultan. The central point of this quarter, at least in regard to its importance, if not to its position, is the palace of the sultan, the whole arrangement of which is in general similar to the residences of the chiefs in other towns, consisting of irregular clusters of clay buildings and huts. But there is a remarkable feature in this palace, which distinguishes it in a very conspicuous manner from all other buildings of the kind in these countries. This difference consists in the wall which surrounds the whole building being built, not of sun-dried, but of baked bricks. I have had an opportunity of describing, on my journey from Kanó to Kúkawa, the ruins of the town of Ghámbarú, which is built of the same material; and I shall further on describe those of Bírni or Ghasréggomo, the old capital of Bórnu, constructed in the same manner. But at present the traveller looks in vain for such solid buildings in any of the towns of Negroland; and I was therefore not a little surprised at finding it here, in a place where one might least expect to see it.[44]

It was not, however, a building of recent date, but built at least fifty, or perhaps a hundred years ago, or probably more, and was at present in a considerable state of decay. It forms a quadrangle of a somewhat oblong shape, the front looking towards the N.W., and measures from 1500 to 1600 yards in circumference. It must once have been a very strong building, the walls measuring about ten feet at the base, and from fifteen to twenty feet in height, and the entrance-gate being formed by thick wooden planks bound with iron. Upon entering, we first got into an open courtyard, in the eastern part of which there was a large oblong building or hall built of clay, which formed the public place of audience. Adjoining this there was a hut, wherein the kadamánge, or zérma—for he had lately risen in the service—who had been installed as lieutenant-governor, had his official residence, while further westward another hut formed the entrance-hall into the inner or private apartments of the sultan, which I shall notice on the occasion of my audience with the sovereign.

The whole south-eastern part of the palace, being inclosed by a separate wall, is entirely devoted to the female portion of the royal household, and is full of huts, the number of which, of course, I am not able to tell, having had no access to this sacred and most secluded part of the residence. According to report, at least, the sultan is said to have from 300 to 400 wives. The huts are of various sizes and descriptions, in conformity with the character of the tenant of each. In front of the palace a spacious area or square is laid out, ornamented with six karáge-trees, besides a fine tamarind-tree which grows a little on one side of the entrance to the palace. Adjacent to the royal residence, on the west side, is the large house of the fácha, or commander-in-chief, and towards the east a mosque, of small dimensions, with a minaret at the north-west corner. The other sides are occupied by the residences of some of the principal courtiers, such as the mánja, the zérma, and the bárma. The principal street of the town joins this area in the north- west corner; and along it lie the dwellings of some of the other principal men. At the spot where this road passes by the north side of the deep hollow or concavity above described (12), it is crossed by another principal street, which, in a straight line, proceeds from the gate leading to Ábú-Gher, and intersects the market-place.

My own residence was situated at the south-western angle of the inhabited quarter; and while it had the advantage of being in an open and airy situation, it had also the disadvantage of being visible from almost every part of the town, so that I could not step out of my room without being seen by all the people around.

Dilapidated as was the appearance of the whole town, it had a rather varied aspect, as all the open grounds were enlivened with fresh pasture; but there is no appearance of industry, and the whole has the character of a mere artificial residence of the people immediately connected with the court. The market-place is rather small, and not provided with a single stall, the people being obliged to protect themselves as well as they can, by forming a new temporary shed every market-day. The most interesting aspect is afforded by the bedá, or bahr, which is bordered on the south-west side by a few picturesque groups of dúm-palms and other trees of fine foliage, while at the western end, near the market-place, there is a large extent of kitchen- gardens, as well as near the south-eastern extremity. In consequence of the peculiar nature of the bedá, the direct communication between the northern and southern quarters, which during the dry season is kept up by a good path, seems to be occasionally interrupted during the rains.

The construction of the houses in general is good, and the thatchwork of the roofs formed with great care, and even with neatness; but the clay is of rather a bad description for building, and the clay houses afford so little security during the rainy season, that most people prefer residing during that part of the year in the huts of reeds and straw: and I myself had sufficient opportunity of becoming acquainted with the frail character of these structures. There are, however, some pretty- looking houses on the road to Ábú-Gher.

The walls of the town, in most places, are in a state of great decay, so that the gates in reality have lost all importance; nevertheless there are still nine gates, or rather openings, in use. Most of them lie on the south side, while there is not a single gate towards the north, this quarter of the town being so deserted that it is even overgrown with dense underwood. All around the place, as well on the south side, where a large pond is formed in the rainy season, as on the other sides, there are villages inhabited by Shúwa or Shíwa (native Arabs), principally of the tribe of the Bení Hassan, who supply the town with milk and butter.

Besides studying, roving about, paying now an official visit to the lieutenant-governor, then a more interesting private one to my friend Sámbo, much of my time was also occupied with giving medicine to the people,—especially during the early period of my stay; for the small stock of medicines which I brought with me was soon exhausted. But even if I had possessed a much larger supply, I might perhaps have been tempted to withhold occasionally the little aid I could afford, on account of the inhospitable treatment which I received; and in the beginning I was greatly pestered by the lieutenant, who sent me to some decrepit old women, who had broken their limbs and in every respect were quite fit for the grave. I then protested officially against being sent in future to patients at least of the other sex, beyond a certain age.

But sometimes the patients proved rather interesting, particularly the females; and I was greatly amused one morning when a handsome and well- grown young person arrived with a servant of the lieutenant-governor, and entreated me to call and see her mother, who was suffering from a sore in her right ear. Thinking that her house was not far off, I followed her on foot, but had to traverse the whole town, as she was living near the gate leading to Ábú-Gher; and it caused some merriment to my friends to see me strutting along with this young lady. But afterwards, when I visited my patient, I used to mount my horse; and the daughter was always greatly delighted when I came, and frequently put some very pertinent questions to me, as to how I was going on with my household, as I was staying quite alone. She was a very handsome person, and would even have been regarded so in Europe, with the exception of her skin, the glossy black of which I thought very becoming at the time, and almost essential to female beauty.

The princesses also, or the daughters of the absent king, who in this country too bear the title of “mairam” or “méram,” called upon me occasionally, under the pretext of wanting some medicines. Amongst others, there came one day a buxom young maiden, of very graceful but rather coquettish demeanour, accompanied by an elder sister, of graver manners and fuller proportions, and complained to me that she was suffering from a sore in her eyes, begging me to see what it was; but when, upon approaching her very gravely, and inspecting her eyes rather attentively without being able to discover the least defect, I told her that all was right, and that her eyes were sound and beautiful, she burst out into a roar of laughter, and repeated, in a coquettish and flippant manner, “beautiful eyes, beautiful eyes.”

There is a great difference between the Kanúri and Bagírmi females, the advantage being entirely with the latter, who certainly rank among the finest women in Negroland, and may well compete with the Fúlbe or Felláta; for if they are excelled by them in slenderness of form and lightness of colour, they far surpass them in their majestic growth and their symmetrical and finely-shaped limbs, while the lustre and blackness of their eyes are celebrated all over Negroland. Of their domestic virtues, however, I cannot speak, as I had not sufficient opportunity to enable me to give an opinion upon so difficult a question. I will only say that on this subject I have heard much to their disadvantage; and I must own that I think it was not all slander. Divorce is very frequent among them as inclination changes. Indeed I think that the Bagírmi people are more given to intrigues than their neighbours; and among the young men sanguinary encounters in love affairs are of frequent occurrence. The son of the lieutenant-governor himself was at that time in prison on account of a severe wound which he had inflicted upon one of his rivals. In this respect the Bágrimma very nearly approach the character of the people of Wádáy, who are famous on account of the furious quarrels in which they often become involved in matters of love.

Occasionally there occurred some petty private affairs of my friends which caused some little interruption in the uniform course of my life. Now it was my old friend Bú-Bakr, from Bákadá, who complained of his wife, who resided here in Más-eñá, and who did not keep his house as well and economically as he desired, and, when he occasionally came into the town, did not treat him so kindly as he thought she ought to do, so that he came to the serious conclusion of divorcing her. Another time my restless friend was in pursuit of a runaway slave, who had tried to escape beyond the Báchikám.

Then it was my friend Háj Áhmed, who complained to me of his disappointment, and how he had been overreached by his enemies and rivals. He was certainly in an awkward position in this country; and I could never get quite at the bottom of his story. For, as I have mentioned above, he had been sent from Medína in order to obtain from the king of Bagírmi a present of eunuchs; but now, after he had been residing here about a year and a half, having been continually delayed by the ruler of the country, another messenger had arrived, who, it seemed, was to reap the fruits of my friend’s labours. Háj Áhmed had accompanied the sultan on his expedition the previous year; but he had almost lost his life, having received a severe wound in the head, from one of those iron hand-bills which form the chief weapon of the pagan tribes towards the south. He therefore thought it better this time to remain behind; but he made no end of complaints, on account of the miserly and inhospitable treatment of the lieutenant-governor. The situation of my friend became the more lamentable when his female slave, the only one he had at the time, managed to make her escape, having thrown down her mistress, who had gone outside the town with her.

Scenes like these happened daily; and I had frequent opportunities of demonstrating to my friends, how the vigour and strength of the Christian empires of Europe were principally based upon their capability of continually renewing their vitality from free native elements, and by totally abstaining from slavery. And I further demonstrated to them that slavery had been the principal cause of the speedy overthrow of all the Mohammedan dynasties and empires that had ever flourished.

Another time it was my friend Slímán, who, besides topics of a more serious nature, used to entertain me with stories from his domestic life; for, being of a roving disposition, ever changing, and of rather desultory habits, he was accustomed to contract temporary matches for a month, which of course gave him a great insight into the habits of the females of the countries which he traversed on his peregrinations.

At another time some natural phenomena gave me some occupation. Amongst the nuisances with which the country of Bagírmi abounds, the large black ant called “kingíbbu” and “kangífu” in Kanúri, “kíssino” in tar Bágrimma (the language of Bagírmi)—_termes mordax_,—is one of the most troublesome; and besides some smaller skirmishes with this insect, I had to sustain, one day, a very desperate encounter with a numerous host of these voracious little creatures, that were attacking my residence with a stubborn pertinacity which would have been extremely amusing if it had not too intimately affected my whole existence. In a thick uninterrupted line, about an inch broad, they one morning suddenly came marching over the wall of my court-yard, and entering the hall which formed my residence by day and night, they made straight for my store-room; but unfortunately, my couch being in their way, they attacked my own person most fiercely, and soon obliged me to decamp. We then fell upon them, killing those that were straggling about and foraging, and burning the chief body of the army as it came marching along the path; but fresh legions came up, and it took us at least two hours before we could fairly break the lines and put the remainder of the hostile army to flight.

On this occasion the insects seemed to have been attracted entirely by the store of corn which I had laid in from Bákadá. In general their hostile attacks have also a beneficial effect, for, as they invade the huts of the natives, they destroy all sorts of vermin, mice included. But while in some respects these black ants may be called the “scavengers of the houses,” in many parts of Negroland they often become also very useful by their very greediness in gathering what man wants entirely for himself; for they lay in such a considerable store of corn, that I have very often observed the poor natives, not only in these regions, but even along the shores of the Niger, digging out their holes, in order to possess themselves of their supplies.

Besides these large black ants, the small red ant, called in Bórnu “kítta-kítta,” and in Bagírmi “kíssasé,” is found in great numbers, and becomes often very troublesome by its very smallness, as it gets so easily into all sorts of dresses without being observed. I was once greatly amused in witnessing a battle between this small red ant and the white ant, called “kanám” in Bórnu, and here “nyó” (_termes fatalis_), when the latter were very soon vanquished by the warriors of the former species, who, notwithstanding their smaller size, were carrying them off with great speed and alacrity to their holes; for the white ant is powerless as soon as it gets out of its subterranean passages, which impart to them strength, as the earth did to Antæus.

The rains, which at first had set in with considerable violence, had afterwards almost ceased, so that the herbage on the open uncultivated grounds in the town became quite withered, and many of the people, who upon the first appearance of rain had been induced to trust their seeds to the soil, were sadly disappointed; and I have already had occasion to relate that the natives, including their chief, attributed this state of the weather to my malignant influence. However, I was delighted when I sometimes made a little excursion on horseback in the environs of the capital, to see that the open country was less dry than the inside of the town, although even there as yet little cultivation was to be seen. It seemed very remarkable to me that here, as well as in the other parts of the country, especially Bákadá, the corn was generally cultivated in deep furrows and ridges or “derába,” a mode of tillage which I had not observed in any other country of Negroland through which I had travelled. The people, however, were very suspicious whenever I mounted on horseback; and the first time they saw me galloping off, they thought I was going to make my escape, and were therefore all on the look-out.

All this time the sultan or “bánga” was absent, and the false news which was repeatedly told of his whereabouts kept up a continual excitement. When I first arrived in the country, he had gone a considerable distance towards the south-east, and was besieging a place called Gógomi, which was strongly fortified by nature, and made a long resistance, so that the besieging army lost a great many of their best men, and among them an Arab sheríf who had joined the expedition. But at length the place was taken, and the courtiers prevailed upon the prince to retrace his steps homewards, as they were suffering a great deal from famine; so much so that the greatest part of the army were obliged to live upon the fruit of the deléb-palm (_Borassus flabelliformis?_), which seems to be the predominant tree in many of the southern provinces of Bagírmi.

[Sidenote: July 3rd.]

After false reports of the sultan’s approach had been spread repeatedly, he at length really arrived. Of course, the excitement of the whole population was very great, almost all the fighting men having been absent from home for more than six months.

It was about nine o’clock in the morning when the army approached the south side of the town, displaying a great deal of gorgeous pomp and barbaric magnificence, although it was not very numerous, being reduced to the mere number of the inhabitants of the capital, the remainder having already dispersed in all directions, and returned to their respective homes. Thus there were not more than from 700 to 800 horsemen, or “malásínda;” but my friend the sheríf Slimán (who, exasperated at the bad treatment of the lieutenant-governor, had left the capital to join the expedition, and who, as far as I had an opportunity of trying him, was not inclined to exaggerate) assured me that, even on their return, the army mustered at least 2000 horsemen.