CHAPTER III

THE HISTORY OF SIWA

“Cities have been, and vanished; fanes have sunk,

Heaped into shapeless ruin; sands o’erspread.

Fields that were Edens; millions too have shrunk

To a few starving hundreds, or have fled

From off the page of being.”

SIWA lies thickly covered with “the Dust of History,” and its story is difficult to trace. For certain periods one is able to collect information on the subject, but during many centuries nothing is known. Some of the leading sheikhs have in their possession ancient documents and treaties which have been handed down through many generations from father to son. There is also an old Arabic history of Siwa, which appears to have been written some time during the fifteenth century, kept by the family whose members have always held a position corresponding to that of a town clerk, but this old history is so interwoven with curious legends and fables that it is difficult to separate fact from fiction. I used to sit in the garden of the old sheikh who owned the book and listen while he read. He was a venerable but rascally old fellow in flowing white robes, the green turban of a “Haj,” and huge horn spectacles. The book itself was a muddled collection of loose sheets of manuscript kept in a leather bag.

Roughly the history of Siwa can be divided into four periods. The first, which is also the greatest period, dates from the foundation of the Temple of Jupiter Ammon. The second period begins at the Mohammedan invasion in the seventh century A.D. The third period commences with the subjugation of Siwa by Mohammed Ali, early in the nineteenth century; and the fourth and last period is the history of Siwa during the Great War.

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FIRST PERIOD

THE TEMPLE OF JUPITER AMMON

According to the late Professor Maspero, the great authority on Egyptian antiquities, the oasis of Siwa was not connected with Egypt until about the sixteenth century B.C. In about 1175 B.C. the Egyptian oases, of which Siwa is one, were colonized by Rameses III, but very little authentic information is available on the history of Siwa until it came definitely under the influence of Egypt in the sixth century B.C. Mr. Oric Bates, in his exhaustive work, _The Eastern Libyans_, states that the original deity of the oasis was a sun god, a protector of flocks, probably with the form of a bull. The African poet Coreippus, mentions a ram-headed Libyan divinity called Gurzil who was represented as being the offspring of the original prophetic God of Siwa. His priests fought in battles, and the emblem of the god was carried by the Libyans in the fray. A sacred stone at Siwa is referred to by Pliny, which when touched by an irreverent hand stirred at once a strong and harmful sand-wind. The theory of sun worship, and the idea of an evil wind directed by some spirit in a stone is substantiated by the local customs and legends which are prevalent in Siwa at the present time.

It is certain that when the Egyptians occupied Siwa, in about 550 B.C., according to Mr. Bates, they discovered a local Libyan god firmly established and supported by a powerful but barbarous cult. So great was its reputation that King Crœsus of Lydia travelled to Siwa and consulted the oracle a little before, or at the time of, the Egyptian occupation. The Egyptians identified the local god of the oasis with their own Ammon. In the fourth century B.C. the god Ammon, of the Ammonians, for this was the name by which the people of Siwa were now known, had become one of the most famous oracles of the ancient world. At the time when the Egyptians recognized and worshipped the god of the oasis, a number of stories became prevalent, tending to prove that the deity at Siwa originated from the Ammon of Thebes, and one legend even went so far as to assert that the Ammon of Thebes was himself originally a Libyan herdsman who was deified by Dionysius. The following are some of the many legends which relate the origin of the Siwan god, and which suggest its connection with the Theban Ammon.

Herodotus, in whose works there are frequent allusions to the Ammonians, describes the inhabitants of the oasis of Ammon as being colonists from Egypt and Ethiopia, speaking a mixed language, and calling themselves Ammonians, owing to the Egyptians worshipping Jupiter under the name of Ammon. He relates that the colonists instituted an oracle in imitation of the famous one on the Isle of Meroë, and mentions the following account of its origin. Two black girls who served in the Temple of Jupiter Ammon at Thebes were carried away by Phœnician merchants. One of them was taken to Greece, where she afterwards founded the Temple of Dodona, which became a well-known oracle; the other was sold into Libya and eventually arrived at the kingdom of the Ammonians. Owing to her strange language, which resembled “the twittering of a bird,” she was supposed by the inhabitants to possess supernatural qualities; her reputation increased, and her utterances came to be regarded as the words of an oracle. There is a different version of the same fable in which the girls are represented as two black doves, one flying to Greece, the other to Libya.

According to Diodorus Siculus the Temple of Jupiter Ammon was built as far back as 1385 B.C., by Danaus the Egyptian. Rollins, in his _History of the Ancient World_, names Ham, the son of Noah, as the deity in whose honour the temple was built by the Ammonians. Another legend tells that Dionysius was lost in the desert on one of his fantastic expeditions and nearly died from thirst when suddenly a ram appeared, which led the party to a bubbling spring. They built a temple on the spot, in gratitude, and ornamented it with representations of a ram’s head. It is interesting to compare this story with one of the legends written in the Arabic history of Siwa. A Siwan, journeying in the desert, was led by a ram to a mysterious city where he found an avenue of black stone lions. He returned home, and set out again at a later date, meaning to rediscover the place, but he never found it again. In both cases it is a ram that led the way, and the god of Siwa is represented as having a ram’s head.

The temple, whose ruins are to be seen at the village of Aghourmi, near Siwa, was built probably during the sixth century B.C. The date is decided by the style of its architecture. This temple was known to the Egyptians as “Sakhit Amouou,” the “Field of Palms,” owing to its situation among groves of palm trees. It is evident that at this time Siwa was the principal island in a desert archipelago consisting of several oases, most of which are now uninhabited, obeying a common king and owing their prosperity to the great temple of the oracle. Such a cluster of islands would invest the dynasty to which King Clearchus and King Lybis belonged with considerable importance. Herodotus tells how certain Cyrenians held a conversation with Clearchus, King of the Ammonians, who told them that a party of young men had set off on an expedition from his country to the west, through a wild region full of savage animals, eventually arriving at a great river where they found a race of small black men. They supposed this river to be a branch or tributary of the Nile, but it was actually the river Niger. Thus it is shown that at this period Siwa was an independent monarchy. The Ammonians lived under the rule of their own kings and priests, and chieftainship was associated with priesthood. Silius Italicus describes the warrior priest Nabis, an Ammonian chief, “fearless and splendidly armed,” riding in the army of Hannibal.

Another early visitor to the oasis was Lysander the Spartan. Being disappointed by the oracle of Dodona he travelled to Siwa, under colour of making a vow at the temple, but hoping to bribe the priests to his interests. Notwithstanding “the fullness of his purse” and the great friendship between his father and Lybis, King of the Ammonians, he was totally unsuccessful, and the priests sent ambassadors to Sparta accusing Lysander of attempting to bribe the holy oracle. But “he so subtly managed his defence that he got off clear.” The Greeks held the oracle of Ammon in great veneration. The Athenians kept a special galley in which they conveyed questions across the sea to Libya. Mersa Matruh, sometimes called Ammonia, was the port for Siwa, and it was here that the ambassadors and visitors disembarked and started on their desert journey to the oasis. The poet Pindar dedicated an ode to Jupiter Ammon, which was preserved under the altar of the temple for some six hundred years; and the sculptor Calamis set up a statue to the god of the Ammonians in the Temple of Thebes at Karnak.

In 525 B.C., Cambyses, wishing to consolidate his newly acquired dominions in Northern Africa, dispatched two expeditions, one against Carthage, the other into Ethiopia. He made Memphis his base of operations and sent 50,000 men as an advance party to occupy the oasis of Ammon. His generals had orders to rob and burn the temple, make captives of the people and to prepare halting-places for the bulk of the army. They passed the oasis of Khargeh and proceeded north-west. But the whole army was lost in the sea of desert that lies between Siwa and Khargeh. The Ammonians, on inquiries being made, reported that the army was overwhelmed by a violent sand-storm during a midday halt. But it is more probable that they lost their way during one of the periodical sand-storms which are so prevalent in this desert region, and were overcome by thirst in the waterless, trackless desert. There was no further news; they never reached the temple, and not one of the soldiers returned to Egypt. This huge army still lies buried somewhere in that torrid waste, and perhaps some fortunate traveller may at a future date stumble unawares on the remains of the once mighty host. In the old Arabic history there are two other stories of armies that were lost in the desert. In one case it was a Siwan army which opposed the Mohammedan invaders, and in the other case an army of raiders from Tebu were lost on their way to attack the oasis.

In 500 B.C., Siwa and the other oases were subjected to Persia, and in the following year Cimon, the celebrated Athenian general, sent a secret embassy to the oracle while he was besieging Citium in Cyprus. The deputation was greeted by the oracle with the words, “Cimon is already with me,” and on their return it was found that Cimon had himself perished in battle. The foretelling of Cimon’s death augmented considerably the reputation of the oracle.

Oracles were most frequently situated in the vicinity of some natural phenomena; this at Siwa consisted of a sacred spring known as “Fons Solis,” the “Fountain of the Sun,” which by its strangeness contributed to the divine qualities of the temple. Very probably it was the “Ein el Hammam” which lies about a quarter of a mile south of the temple ruins and is to-day one of the largest and most beautiful springs in the oasis. Ancient writers describe its waters as being warm in the morning, cold at noon and boiling hot at midnight. Blind, black fish lived in the pool, according to the Arabic history, which was connected with the rites of the temple. The water to-day is a trifle warmer than most of the springs, and for that reason it is the favourite bathing-place of the inhabitants of Aghourmi. I have stood by the spring at midnight and tested its warmth, but it seemed in no way to differ from the other springs, except that it was a very little warmer.

There are many contemporary descriptions of the actual temple, and antiquarians have from time to time disputed as to its original size and form. It appears to have consisted of a main building, or sanctuary, surrounded by triple walls which enclosed the dwelling-places of the king, priests and the guards, standing on a rocky eminence among the palm groves. A smaller temple stood a few hundred yards south of the acropolis. The rock on which the village of Aghourmi now stands was evidently the site of the original temple and fortress, and the ruins below the village, known as “Omm Beyda,” are those of the minor temple. The two temples were connected by an underground passage.

The old history of Siwa gives a detailed description of the court of the king. The following is a rough translation. “At one period Siwa ranked among the important towns of the Egyptian sovereigns. It was ruled by a king called Meneclush who built a town and cultivated the land. He made the men drill and inaugurated a seven days’ feast in commemoration of his succession. The people of King Meneclush dressed richly and wore golden ornaments. The king lived in a stone and granite palace, and assembled his people in a great square which had four different courts, and in each court there was a statue which caught the sun at different times of the day, and when the sun shone upon the statues they spoke. When the people assembled they stood on seven steps. On the highest step sat the king, below, in succession, the king’s family, priests, astrologers and magicians, generals and courtiers, architects, soldiers, and, below, the people. Each step was inscribed with these words, ‘Look down, not towards the step above, lest ye become proud’—thus inculcating the principle of modesty. The king lived in a palace called Kreibein, inside the walls. In those days there were many buildings in Siwa, spreading from Omm Beyda to Gebel Dakrour. King Meneclush was stabbed by a girl and is buried, with his horse, in the Khazeena, underneath Aghourmi. . . . At a later period Siwa was divided into two parts ruled by two princes called Ferik and Ibrik. Afterwards a queen called Khamissa ruled in Siwa and gave her name to the square hill at the end of the Western lake.”

Much of the history is missing, and at times it plunges into descriptions of neighbouring countries, but it is interesting to find mention of “statues that speak” when touched by the sun.

As recently as 1837 there was a considerable portion of the smaller temple standing. Travellers described the roof, made of massive blocks of stone, the coloured ceilings, and the walls covered with hieroglyphics and sculptured figures. But the depredations of Arab treasure hunters, and a Turkish Governor who committed an unpardonable vandalism by blowing up the temple with gunpowder in order to obtain stone for building an office, have reduced the once imposing building to a single ruined pylon, or gateway, which towers above the surrounding gardens, a pathetic reminder of its former grandeur. This solitary ruin, and two massive stone gateways almost hidden by mud buildings in the middle of the village of Aghourmi, is all that remains of the temple that was once famous throughout the world. In a way the ruins are symbolic of Siwa which was once a powerful dominion, but is now nothing more than a wretched desert station with three or four thousand degenerate inhabitants.

In 331 B.C. the fame of the oracle reached its zenith, owing to Alexander the Great visiting it after having settled his affairs in Egypt. The visit to the famous oracle was undertaken in order to inquire into the mysterious origin of his birth. Probably at the same time Alexander wished to emulate the deeds of Hercules, from whom he claimed descent, and who was supposed during his wanderings to have visited the oasis. He marched along the coast to Parætonium—Matruh—where he was met by ambassadors from Cyrene, a wealthy city on the coast some 400 miles further west, who presented him gifts of chariots and war horses. He then turned south across the desert into a region “where there was nothing but heaps of sand.” After journeying four days the water supply, carried in skins, gave out, and the army was in danger of perishing from thirst when, by a fortunate chance, or by the direct interposition of the gods, the sky became black with clouds, rain fell, and by this miraculous means the army was preserved from destruction.

A little later the expedition lost its way, and after wandering for miles was saved by the appearance of a number of ravens who, flying before the army, guided them eventually to the temple. They found the oasis “full of pleasant fountains, watered with running streams, richly planted with all sorts of trees bearing fruit, surrounded by a vast dry and sandy desert, waste and untilled . . . the temperature of the air was like spring, yet all the place around it was dry and scorching . . . a most healthful climate.” Alexander was received by the oracle with divine honours, and returned to Egypt satisfied that he was indeed the authentic son of Zeus. As the son of the god he became a legitimate Pharoah, and adopted the pschent crown and its accompanying rites.

About this time various nations applied to the oracle for permission to deify their rulers, and on the death of his friend Hephistion, Alexander dispatched another embassy asking that Hephistion might be ranked as a hero. When Alexander died, in 323 B.C., it was suggested that he should be buried at Siwa. However, the suggestion was not carried out and he was buried at Alexandria, the city to which he gave his name. One of the hills in the desert near Siwa is still called “Gebel Sekunder,” and tradition has it that from this hill Alexander saw the ravens which led him to the temple.

The ritual of the temple was somewhat similar to several other oracular temples. The actual oracle was made in human figure, with a ram’s head, richly ornamented with emeralds and other precious stones. The figure of the god appears to have been shown as though wrapped for burial, and this dead god, who was a god of prophecy, may possibly have set the fashion of menes-worship which one still sees in Siwa when natives resort to the graves of their ancestors in order to learn the future. When a distinguished pilgrim arrived for a consultation the symbol of the god was brought up from the inmost sanctuary of the temple and carried on a golden barque, hung with votive cups of silver, followed by a procession of eighty priests and many singing girls, “who chanted uncouth songs after the manner of their country,” in order to propitiate the deity and induce him to return a satisfactory answer. The god directed the priests who carried the barque which way they should proceed, and spoke by tremulous shocks, communicated to the bearers, and by movements of the head and body, which were interpreted by the priests.

[Illustration: RUINS OF “OMM BEYDA” THE TEMPLE OF JUPITER AMMON]

Those spaces among the palm groves at Aghourmi must have witnessed in ancient days many a splendid spectacle. One can imagine the magnificent ceremonies and the awe-inspiring rites which were solemnized among the shady vistas of tall palm trees, in the shadow of the great temple on the rock, the processions of chanting priests, the savage music of conches and cymbals, and the gorgeous caravans of Eastern monarchs, carrying offerings of fabulous treasure to lay before the mystic oracle of the oasis, whose infallible answers were regarded by the whole world with profound respect. In those days caravans from the West, and from the savage countries of the Sudan, brought slaves and merchandize to Siwa, and the barbarian followers of African chieftains mingled with the courtiers of Eastern potentates, and gazed with awe on the white-robed priests and the troops of pale singing girls. To-day the people of Aghourmi build their fires against the great crumbling archways that gave access to the holiest altar of Ammonium, and shepherds graze their flocks among the ruins of the smaller temple.

“The Oracles are dumb

No voice or hideous hum

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.”

Towards the end of the third century B.C. the fame of the oracle declined, although, according to Juvenal, the answers of Ammon were esteemed in the solution of difficult problems until long after the cessation of the oracle at Delphi. But in the second century B.C. the oracle was almost extinct. Strabo, writing when its fame was on the wane, advances a theory in his _Geography_ that the Temple of Ammon was originally close to the sea. He bases his argument on the existence of large salt lakes at Siwa and the quantities of shells which are to be found near the temple. He considers that Siwa would never have become so illustrious, or possessed with such credit as it once enjoyed, if it had always been such a distance from the coast, therefore the land between Siwa and the sea must have been created comparatively recently by deposits from the ocean. Undoubtedly at some remote period the whole of the northern part of the Libyan Desert was under the sea, but there is nothing to prove that even then Siwa was a coast town, because one finds shells and fossils, such as Strabo mentions, over a hundred miles south of Siwa.

The Romans neglected Oriental oracles, especially those of Ammon. They preferred the auguries of birds, the inspection of victims and the warnings of heaven to the longer process of oracular consultation. In the reign of Augustus, Siwa had become a place of banishment for political criminals. Timasius, an eminent general, was sent there in A.D. 396 and Athanasius addresses several letters to his disciples who were banished to the oases, “a place unfrequented and inspiring horror.” The French poet Fénelon, in his play, _The Adventures of Telemachus_, makes the mistake of describing Siwa as a place where one sees “snow that never melts, making an endless winter on the mountain tops.”

Somewhere about the fourth century Christianity penetrated to Siwa, and the ruins of a church, or monastery, built probably at this time, where one can still distinguish the Coptic cross carved in stone, are visible at Biled el Roumi, near Khamissa. The ruin is described in the Arabic history as the place where “bad people” lived. But apparently Christianity was never embraced with much zeal. During the Berber uprisings in the sixth century Siwa relapsed into barbarism, and the Siwans probably took part with the Berbers in their struggles against the Byzantine rule which flourished on the coast. Early in the seventh century, when the Arab army invaded Egypt, the inland country west of Egypt was practically independent, the Berber tribes having won back their freedom.

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SECOND PERIOD

MEDIÆVAL SIWA

The second period of Siwa’s history is the most difficult to trace, especially with regard to the fixing of definite dates. One has to depend on the Arabic history at Siwa, and occasional highly coloured references to the oasis by the Arab historians and geographers. Siwa was known to the Arab writers as “Schantaria,” or “Santrieh,” spelt in various ways, which at a later date became “Siouah,” and finally “Siwa.”

In 640 Egypt was invaded by a Mohammedan army commanded by Amrou, who seized the country from the feeble grasp of the representatives of Heraclius. The tide of conquest swept west along the northern coast of Africa. The disunion of the Berber tribes made the conquest of the country more easy for the host of Islam. Fugitives from the Arabs fled inland to the remote places such as the oases, and it was not until several centuries later that the Arabs established their religion in Siwa. According to the Arabic history when Egypt was invaded by the Mohammedans the Siwans sent an army to help repel the enemy, but this army, like many others, was lost in the desert.

Mohammed Ben Ayas, an Arab historian who wrote in 1637, gives an account of the mysterious country of “Santarieh,” and describes how Moussa Ibn Nosseir was repulsed from its gates. In 708 Moussa attempted to reduce Siwa. He crossed the desert from Egypt in seven days. On arrival he found that all the Siwans had retired into their fortified town, which was surrounded by enormously high walls, with four iron gates. Finding it impossible to force an entrance he ordered his men to scale the walls and see what lay on the other side. With the aid of ladders they managed to reach the battlements, but each man who scaled the wall immediately disappeared over the other side and was never seen again. Moussa was so discouraged by this that he renounced his project and returned to Egypt, having lost a large number of soldiers. In 710 Tharic Ben Sayed, another Arab general, was also repulsed.

The mediæval Arab writers have many stories to tell of the strange things at Siwa. Among the wonders of the country was a magic lake over which no bird could fly without falling in, and it could only escape from the water if drawn out by a human hand. The four gates of the town were surmounted by four brass statues. When a stranger entered the gates a deep sleep fell upon him, and he remained in this state until one of the inhabitants came and blew upon his face. Without this attention he lay unconscious at the foot of the statue until death claimed him. There was a sacred stone in the town which was called “The Lover,” because of its strange power of attracting men. It drew them towards itself, and then when they touched it their limbs stuck to the stone. Struggles were of no avail, their only release was death. The neighbouring country was full of wild beasts, and serpents of prodigious length, with bodies as thick as palm trunks, dwelt among the hills and devoured sheep, cattle and human beings. Another species was particularly fond of eating camels. In one of the gardens there flourished a marvellous orange tree which bore 14,000 oranges, not including those that fell to the ground, every year. The author who mentions this tree asserts that he saw it himself!

All the Arab writers mention the mines at Siwa. Among the mountains that enclose the oasis people found iron, lapis lazulis and emeralds, which they sold in Egypt. They also exported the salt which they picked up on the ground, and obtained barley from Egypt in exchange. The only manufactures were leather carpets of great beauty, which were much prized by Egyptians.

The inhabitants of Siwa were Berbers; they worked naked in their gardens; the country was independent, thinly populated and showed signs of a former civilization. A strange breed of savage donkey, striped black and white—zebras—lived in the oasis. These animals allowed no one to mount them, and when taken to Egypt they died at once.

People used to find enchanted cities in the desert near Siwa, but latterly they have disappeared and their positions are now only marked by mounds of sand. Abdel Melik, Ibn Merouan, made an excursion from Egypt into the desert near Siwa, where he discovered a ruined city and a tree that bore every known fruit. He gathered some fruit and returned to Fostat—Cairo. A Copt told him that this city contained much treasure, so he sent out the Copt with a number of men provisioned for thirty days to rediscover the place, but they failed to find it. On another occasion an Arab was journeying near Siwa and suddenly saw a loaded camel disappear into a deep, rocky valley in the middle of the desert. He followed it and arrived at an oasis watered by a spring where there were people cultivating the land. They had never seen a stranger before. He returned to Egypt and reported the matter to the collector of taxes, who immediately sent out men to visit this oasis, but, as usual, they never found it.

There are innumerable stories of hidden cities in the desert near Siwa. This idea, and that of buried treasure, appeals strongly to an Oriental mind. Siwa itself, owing to its history, probably does contain a great deal that could be advantageously excavated. It is a field that would yield many treasures, as up to now no really thorough work has been carried out, though various people who have happened to be there have “done a little digging.” The ex-Khedive spent some money in uncovering some old ruins near one of the lakes, but really there is a great deal that has never been touched. Labour, and the difficulty of reaching Siwa, are the most formidable obstacles to any excavating projects.

It is interesting to note that nearly all the mediæval Arab historians mention the emerald mines at Siwa, and in these days the natives still hold a belief in their existence. In the time of the Temple of Jupiter Ammon the figure of the god was decorated with emeralds, which were probably found in the country. According to a Siwan tradition there exists a cave in the hill called Gebel Dakrour, south of Aghourmi, which contains precious stones. But its entrance is guarded by a jinn, who makes it invisible except to a person who has drunk from the water of a certain spring among the sand-dunes south of Siwa. The spring is unknown in these days, but I have seen it marked on an old map of the desert. Possibly some of the peculiar shafts that pierce the hills round Siwa are the remains of old mines; it is difficult to imagine what else they could be.

In 1048 the tribes of Hilal and Ben Soleim, who had been transported from Arabia as a punishment, and were living in the country between the Nile and the Red Sea, were given permission to cross the Nile and advance into Tripoli. Some 200,000 of them hastened like hungry wolves with their wives and families from Egypt to the west. They overran Tripoli and pushed on towards the shores of the Atlantic. It was some of these colonists who eventually forced Siwa to accept the Mohammedan rule, and by 1100, according to the Arab historians, the Koran flourished within the precincts of the Temple of Ammon. From that date onwards Siwa has been fanatically Mohammedan. The Siwans were not swept into oblivion by this great Arab invasion; apparently only a very few Arabs remained in the oasis, and very shortly they themselves became indistinguishable from the Siwans. From this time the Berbers, as a nation, ceased to exist, but they remained Berbers, not Arabs, and in a few out-of-the-way places, such as Siwa, they retained much of their original language.

The history at Siwa tells how one Rashwan was King of Siwa when the Mohammedan army arrived, commanded by the Prophet’s khalifa. Rashwan summoned his priests and magicians and consulted them as to how the enemy were to be repelled. Acting on their advice he removed all the bodies from “Gebel Muta,” a hill near Siwa which is honeycombed with rock tombs, and cast them into the springs in order to poison the enemy. Then he retired into the town, depending on the wells inside the walls. The Mohammedan army arrived, but the water of the springs did them no harm. They stormed the town and captured it after a strenuous fight; Rashwan was killed, and the inhabitants embraced the faith of Islam at the sword’s point.

During the period that followed the Arab invasion very little is known of Siwa. The oasis was inhabited by a mixture of Berbers and Arabs, the Berbers predominating. Occasional caravans of slave-traders passed northwards along the main desert routes, and some of the slaves, having been bought by the Siwans, remained in the oasis and intermarried with the inhabitants. The Siwans, diminished in numbers and in power, began to suffer from raids by the Arabs from the west and from the coast.

According to the old history, which is preserved at Siwa, there was another small incursion from the east at a later date. About the middle of the fifteenth century there was a great plague which carried off a number of Siwans. A certain devout man in Egypt dreamed that the ground at Siwa was very rich. He came to the oasis and settled there, planting a special kind of date palm which he brought from Upper Egypt; he also grew dates for the “Wakf”—religious foundation—of the Prophet, which custom still continues. Later he made the pilgrimage and described the country of Siwa to the people of Mecca, who had never heard of it. They did him great honour. He returned to Siwa accompanied by thirty men, Berbers and Arabs, who settled in Siwa. They built an olive press in the centre of the high town and inscribed their names thereon. From these men, and their Siwan wives, certain of the present inhabitants are descended, and some Siwans boast to-day that their forebears came with “The Thirty” whose names were inscribed on the old olive press. “The Thirty” occupied the western part of the town, and the original Siwans remained in the eastern quarter and in the village of Aghourmi. Later the Siwans elected a council and chose a “Kadi”—judge—who drew up a code of laws.

Under this government the population increased and the people flourished again; they treated travellers well, especially pilgrims from the west on their way to Mecca. The people of Tripoli came to hear of them, and they made an alliance together. Siwa became a “Zawia”—religious dependency—of Tripoli, and the Siwans fought in the army of Tripoli. Siwa once more became a market for slaves and a halting-place for the caravans from the south and the west. Slaves came in great numbers from Wadai and the Sudan, via Kufra, Jalo and Jerabub. Egyptian merchants came to Siwa bringing merchandise, and returned to Egypt with slaves and dates. From the Sudan came ivory, gold, leather and ostrich feathers.

During the time of Sidi Suliman, a very devout Kadi, the savage people of Tebu, in the south, made constant raids upon Siwa, and troubled the people greatly. On one occasion it was known that a large army of the enemy were advancing on the oasis. The venerable judge offered up prayers for help against the enemy, and every man in Siwa went to the mosques. As a consequence the whole army was buried in the sand and the road they came by was blotted out. Sidi Suliman encouraged his people to show hospitality to strangers, but some years after his death the people, forgetting his injunctions, drove away from the gates some poor Arab pilgrims who sought their hospitality. It is said that the door of Sidi Suliman’s tomb miraculously closed, marking the strong displeasure of the saint, nor did it open until the Arabs had been brought in and hospitably entertained. According to another legend Sidi Suliman, whilst walking near the town, suddenly became thirsty. There was no water at hand so he struck the ground seven times with his staff, and fresh water gushed forth, which flows in that place to-day. Before Sidi Suliman was born his mother felt a frantic desire to eat some fish. There was none in the town, and the sea lay 200 miles distant. The woman seemed on the point of death. Suddenly a pigeon flew through the open window of her room and deposited a large fish on the floor. She ate the fish, recovered, and Sidi Suliman was born. For this reason all Siwan women eat fish when they are pregnant, hoping that their offspring may be such another as Sidi Suliman. These, and many other legends, are told of Sidi Suliman, who has become the most venerated patron sheikh of the Siwans.

The system of living in Siwa in those days was very curious. The high town existed, with a thin fringe of buildings huddled at the foot of the walls. None of the suburbs, such as Sebukh or Manshia, were built. At night all flocks and cattle were driven within the walls. Married men only, with their wives and families, lived in the high town. Unmarried men, youths over fifteen years of age and widowers shaved their heads, as a distinction, and occupied the houses outside the walls. The town was one vast harem. After sunset no bachelors were allowed inside the gates, and any man who divorced his wife was cast out—until he bought a new one. The bachelors, who were known as “Zigale,” formed a kind of town guard. On the approach of strangers they sallied out to meet them and detained them until the council of sheikhs had decided whether they were to be permitted to enter the town. Strangers were almost always accommodated outside the walls. There was one family of Siwans who were always interpreters, for in those days, unlike to-day, hardly any of the natives spoke any language but their own. The council of sheikhs met in a room close to the main gate of the town, and near it there was a deep, dark pit which served as a prison.

After Sidi Suliman a number of other kadis ruled in the oasis. One of them was called Hassan Mitnana, and during his lifetime a great quarrel arose between the eastern and western factions of the town. This began in about the year 1700. The dispute originated about a road which divides the town into two parts. A family on the eastern side wished to enlarge their house by building out into the street. Their opposite neighbours objected to the public thoroughfare being narrowed merely in order to enlarge a private dwelling-place. There was a dispute, a quarrel, and a fight in which the two sides of the street took part. One side called themselves “Sherkyn”—the Easterners—and the other side called themselves “Gharbyn”—the Westerners. The whole population took up the quarrel, which developed into a permanent civil war. At times it died down and seemed on the point of extinction, then, quite suddenly, it flamed up, ending in pitched battles in the space before the town, where the casualties were often very severe considering the smallness of the population.

[Illustration: THE CITADEL AND THE MOSQUE OF EL ATIK]

Before the days of gunpowder these battles were fought in an open space below the walls of the town. On an appointed day the two opposing armies faced one another. The men stood in front, armed with swords and spears, the women collected behind the men, carrying bags full of stones which they hurled at the enemy, or at anyone on their own side who showed signs of cowardice. Platoons, each of a few dozen men, advanced in turn and fought in the space midway between the two armies, then gradually the whole of both forces became engaged. The women displayed great fierceness; they often joined in the fray, beating out the life from any of their enemies who they found lying wounded, with sharp stones. It seems amazing that, notwithstanding these frequent battles, the Siwans managed to live in such a confined space, so close together.

It is only during the last few years of peaceful government, since the war, that the violent animosity between the two parties has died down. A few families of opposing parties have intermarried, but even now one rarely meets a western sheikh in the eastern quarter, or vice versa. Both quarters are entirely self-supporting. They have their own wells, olive presses, mosques and date markets.

At the time of writing I hear from Siwa that a few months after I left there was another outbreak between east and west. Some eastern men were riding home from their gardens, excited by “lubki”—palm wine. They rode through the streets of the western quarter, shouting and singing. The western people took this as an insult and attacked them. In ten minutes 800 men had collected in the square, the east and the west facing each other. A fierce fight began, but fortunately, as the men were only armed with sticks and tools, there were no fatal injuries. The local police and the mamur were unable to do anything, and the Egyptian officials retired to the Markaz—Government Office. A few minutes later the Camel Corps arrived with fixed bayonets and dispersed the crowd. There were about fifty cases needing hospital treatment, some of them being quite severe.

Such were the lively conditions of internecine warfare when Browne, the first Englishman to visit Siwa, arrived at the oasis in 1792. He came in disguise with a caravan from Egypt. But against an infidel, a common foe, the Siwans stood united. Browne’s identity was discovered; he was received with stones and abuse, roughly treated, and sent back to Egypt without having seen much of the oasis. But during his brief stay he formed no favourable opinion of the people. They were notorious for their monstrous arrogance, intense bigotry and gross immorality.

Six years later Hornemann, of the African Association, arrived at Siwa, travelling in the guise of a young mameluke, with a pilgrim caravan on its way from Mecca to the kingdom of Fezzan. He described Siwa as a small independent state, acknowledging the Sultan, but paying no tribute. He estimated the population at 8000 persons. The Siwans were governed by a council of sheikhs, who held their meetings and trials in public, and flew to arms on the slightest provocation when they disagreed. When Hornemann left Siwa he was followed by the inhabitants who apparently suspected his identity. “The braying of several hundred asses heralded the approach of the Siwan Army.” With great difficulty he persuaded the sheikhs that his passport from Napoleon Buonaparte was really a firman from the Sultan. They finally allowed him to proceed on his way. He sent his papers to Europe from Tripoli, but he himself perished while exploring North Africa. It is very curious that most of the few Europeans who visited Siwa in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were Germans.

The difficulties that meet a European travelling in the guise of a Mohammedan are not so formidable as they would appear. Knowledge of the language would seem to be the greatest stumbling-block. But in North Africa there are so many dialects, and so many different pronunciations, that an Arab from one part of the desert would find it difficult to understand an Arab from another district, and the difference in the accent or pronunciation of an Egyptian from Cairo and a European speaking Arabic, would not be recognized in many of the more remote districts.

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THIRD PERIOD

THE TURKISH RULE

“A house divided against itself cannot stand.”

In the year 1816 there was a great fight between the two factions, in which the easterners gained the day. Ali Balli, a western sheikh, went to Egypt and described to the Government the independent state of Siwa and the condition of anarchy prevalent there. In 1820 Mohammed Ali invaded the Sudan. In order to protect his western flank he sent a force of 1300 men, with some cannon, commanded by Hassein Bey Shemishera, one of his generals, against the fanatical population of Siwa. They crossed the desert via Wadi Natrun and the oasis of Gara. A few of the western faction welcomed the army, but most of the population prepared to fight. After a desperate battle, lasting for several hours, the Siwans were severely beaten, and from that date Siwa was permanently secured to Egypt. The Turks entered the town, seized the principal men, and in course of time some sixty of the notables were executed by Hassein Bey, who punished by death on the least suspicion of rebellion or revolt. A tribute was imposed on Siwa, and Sheikh Ali Balli was made omda, supported by the Turks. After some time Hassein Bey and the army returned to Egypt. The Siwans promptly refused to pay tribute, so in 1827 Hassein Bey returned with a force of 800 men, occupied the town after a brief contest, executed eighteen of the notables, confiscated their property, but paid the widows of the unfortunate men ten pounds each as full compensation for the life of a Siwan notable. He also banished twenty of the sheikhs, increased the tribute, and appointed a Turkish officer as Governor of Siwa, with a small force. Under Hassein Bey the Siwans suffered considerably. He seized their money, slaves, dates and silver ornaments, which he sent to his home in Egypt. He built the first “Markaz”—Government Office—whose ruins stand behind the Kasr Hassuna, the present District Officer’s house, where I lived.

During the nineteenth century several Europeans visited Siwa, but they met with no encouragement and were in most cases badly treated. One of them, Butin, a French colonel, carried on his camels a collapsible boat in which he hoped to reach the island on the salt lake of Arashieh, which according to legends contained fabulous treasure and the sword and seal of Mohammed. He managed to bring the boat to Siwa, but the natives refused to let him embark. These early travellers all mention the subterranean passages connecting Aghourmi and Omm Beyda, also between Siwa town and the Hill of the Dead. The natives described these passages as having “biute”—houses—or possibly burying spaces, opening out on either side. The entrances have now in all cases been blocked up by stones and rubbish, but with a little labour they could easily be excavated. Several old men in Siwa know the exact position of the entrances to these passages, which I have seen myself.

The successor of Hassein Bey was Farag Kashif, who built a causeway across one of the salt lakes, making each family work on it in turn. It is a useful piece of work, a narrow path, wide enough for two camels to pass abreast, supported by rough stakes and palm logs, crossing the salt bog which would otherwise be impassable. Several more mamurs were appointed, but they were mere figureheads, as all the power lay in the hands of the omda, Ali Balli. Each year that the taxes were unpaid, and this was frequent, a punitive expedition arrived from Egypt.

The omda was hated by most of the Siwans, who held him responsible for the Turkish occupation, and the years of oppression. Knowing his unpopularity he never left his house after sunset. Certain of the eastern sheikhs bribed two young western men to lure him from his house at night. They persuaded him to come to Mesamia, a narrow tunnel in the western quarter, and there they stabbed him to death. Yousif Ali, the omda’s son, demanded blood money, or the surrender of his father’s murderers, but the eastern sheikhs refused and secretly sent the men to Derna. Then followed a few years with neither omda nor mamur, and a government, of sorts, by a council of sheikhs.

Yousif Ali was a clever, ambitious man. Bayle St. John, who visited Siwa in 1849, described him as “a broad, pale-faced man, with a sly, good-humoured expression, of ambitious character, with speech full of elegant compliments.” He wore a tarbouch, a white burnous and carried a blunderbuss. Except for the blunderbuss the description would suit several of the present-day Siwan notables. For seven years he went every winter to Cairo, trying to persuade the Government to make him omda in place of his father. He earned the nickname of “The Schemer.” He spent a great deal of money on bribes in Egypt, but was always unsuccessful.

In the year 1852 Hamilton, an English traveller, came to Siwa on his way back to Egypt, after journeying in Tripoli and North Africa. In his _Wanderings in North Africa_ he devotes several pages to his experiences in Siwa. The following version of what happened to him is told there now by the Siwans. He pitched his camp near the Markaz, half a mile south of the town. The Siwans bitterly resented any European visitors, so Yousif Ali, knowing this, collected the fighting men and deliberately inflamed their anger against the stranger who had come to spy out their land; he urged them that it was their duty to kill the “Unbeliever,” so they determined to make a night attack on Hamilton’s camp. Then Yousif Ali secretly warned Hamilton of the intended attack, and persuaded him to take shelter in his house. Hamilton left his tents standing empty, and during the night the “Zigale”—fighting men—opened fire on them, but the Englishman was safely lodged in Yousif Ali’s house. Thus Yousif Ali gained credit for having saved Hamilton from the attack which he himself had instigated. This is a characteristic example of Siwan diplomacy.

After the attack the Siwans refused to let Hamilton leave the town, and for six weeks he was practically a prisoner in a little house adjoining that of Yousif Ali. During this time the people amused themselves by shooting and throwing stones at his windows, and collecting in crowds to stare and jeer at the “Nosrani”—Christian. Matters became worse and the most fanatical sheikhs on the town council advocated his execution. With great difficulty he managed to send two letters, by slaves, to the Viceroy of Egypt; but he spent an anxious time as the days passed and no answer came. The Siwans found out about the letters, and as time passed and it became more and more probable that the messengers were lost, so the people became more and more insolent. Some of the sheikhs offered to lend him camels to escape from the town, on the condition that he first wrote to the Viceroy saying that he had been well treated. They intended to murder him as soon as he left the town, and to secure his baggage for themselves, but he discovered the plot and refused to leave.

One day an abnormally hot wind rose from the south and blew with great violence for three days. This was taken as a serious omen of coming disaster. The idea that a sudden violent wind, stirred by an evil “jinn,” foreshadows a catastrophe, is implicitly believed by the Siwans and by all Berbers. A number of Siwans who had been most aggressive hurriedly left the town, and the remainder endeavoured, to the best of their ability, to conciliate Hamilton. The sheikhs who had been most vindictive now fawned upon their “guest,” who became a person to be conciliated instead of a despised Christian. Evidently they had secret news of the approach of a party of cavalry from Egypt. On the 14th March, 1852, two sheikhs arrived and announced the approach of 150 irregular cavalry, who with 14 officers had been dispatched by the Viceroy to effect his release, in response to Hamilton’s letter. A week later, with much “fantasia” and display, the army left Siwa accompanied by Hamilton and Yousif Ali. The Turkish Commandant, with typically stupid obstinacy, refused to take any prisoners, but bound over a number of the sheikhs to appear in Egypt in two months’ time. Needless to say they failed to appear.

Shortly after Hamilton arrived in Cairo the Viceroy sent another expedition of 200 men to bring back a number of Siwan notables to answer for their conduct. The army reached the oasis and camped at Ain Megahiz. The Siwans retired into their fortress town. A certain Arab sheikh, who knew Siwa and was with the Turkish expedition, went down to the town and persuaded forty of the leading men to come out to the camp and see the Commandant. He successfully tricked them with a promise of a favourable treaty, and they believed him. On arrival at the camp they were arrested and thrown into chains; the army entered the town without opposition, as the people, having lost their leaders, had no heart to fight. As before, the Turks spoiled the people, the soldiers robbed the inhabitants, seized the women, and shot down anyone who opposed them. Then at last Sheikh Yousif Ali was appointed Omda of Siwa by the Government of Egypt.

Some years later, in 1854, Abbas, son of Mohammed Ali, died, and was succeeded by his son, Said Pasha. The latter, on his accession, granted an amnesty under which the Siwan notables, who had been condemned to hard labour and were working as prisoners, were released. They hurried back to their oasis, eager to be revenged on Yousif Ali. On arrival they were joined by their slaves and retainers, but met with considerable opposition from the westerners. For three days there was sporadic fighting, then they surrounded the omda’s house. But Yousif Ali had fled to the house of one of his supporters in the suburb, called Manshiah, and garrisoned it with his few remaining slaves. His friends among the western sheikhs deserted him, seeing that popular opinion was entirely against him. From the house in Manshiah, which is a miniature fortress, he sent his two young daughters to bribe the mamur to help him. The mamur was the same Arab who had betrayed the forty sheikhs, and was busy enough looking after himself. The two girls were caught by the eastern sheikhs. One of them was persuaded to go back to her father’s house, and at a given signal to let in the enemy. They surrounded Manshiah and forced an entry to the house. The slaves stopped fighting and surrendered. Yousif Ali was caught on the roof, trying to escape; he was dragged down through the house, out into the street and strangled.

The news of this outrage reached Egypt, and in 1857 a new mamur arrived with a detachment of soldiers. The system of two omdas ruling at once, one eastern and one western, was tried, but found to be a failure. The force under the mamur was quite inadequate to collect the taxes or to keep order. The post was an unpopular one, and was considered, as it is now, a form of exile by the Egyptian mamurs who detest a place that has not the liveliness and amusements of Cairo, or a provincial town. All the mamurs at Siwa used constantly to say to me, “Saire—Siwa ees what you call exile!”

There followed in quick succession a series of somewhat incompetent Turkish mamurs who were in most cases quite powerless to keep under this turbulent town and population. To add to their difficulties the power of the Senussi sect was beginning to make itself firmly felt, and this complicated still more the political situation in the oasis. The Senussi brethren at Jerabub were regarded by the Siwans as the ultimate arbitrators in any disputes which arose among the people, thus ignoring the jurisdiction of the Turkish Government officials. One mamur married, on the day of his arrival, a girl of the eastern quarter, and oppressed the westerners to such a degree that they obtained his recall from Egypt. He was sent back to Egypt, and as he entered the Governor’s house in Alexandria one of his men stepped forward and shot him. Another mamur infuriated the people by wishing to demolish the tomb of Sidi Suliman, in order to build a house on the site. He made all preparations for the work, but on the night before the building began he died mysteriously, possibly from poison. Another mamur imitated the Siwans in every way—eating, dressing and speaking as one. He kept his position for fourteen years, becoming very popular on account of the interest he took in the well-being of the people. But few of the mamurs were liked; they generally sided definitely with one faction or the other, which resulted in intrigue against them by the opposite faction, who tried to procure their dismissal.

In 1896 Mustapha Mahr, Governor of the Behera Province, was dispatched to Siwa, with fifty soldiers, to inquire into certain disorders. He arrived to find Siwa in an uproar, the administration of justice at a standstill, and three years’ taxes unpaid. A powerful western sheikh, Hassuna Mansur, had retired to his stronghold, Kasr Hassuna, a fortress on an isolated rock south of the town, with a large number of slaves and adherents. He refused to pay taxes and defied the Egyptian Government. This individual became the nucleus of opposition. He was besieged; but friends among the besiegers supplied him with water, and even helped him when he sallied out from his fortress and carried away corn, sheep and cattle from the neighbourhood. The Turkish official was helpless. Mustapha Mahr and his fifty men were unable to cope with the rebel. On the advice of the sheikhs he appealed to the Senussi brethren at Jerabub, and very soon Sheikh Ahmed Ibn Idris, a relation by marriage to Sheikh El Senussi, appeared on the scene. The Turkish Commandant asked his assistance. Sheikh Ahmed ordered Hassuna to surrender, which he did at once, and after much discussion an agreement was made, signed by the Senussi sheikh, by which the Siwans promised to pay taxes, but on the condition that they should not be retrospective. The Senussi sheikh then returned triumphantly to Jerabub. This illustrates conclusively the power of the Senussi at this period. A few months later another dispute arose, about some goats, which ended in a battle between east and west, in which Hassuna Mansur was slain, and with him over 100 Siwans.

In 1898, five years after the death of this firebrand of the desert, another affair began which is known as the “Widow’s War.” The Omda of Siwa died leaving a son, Mohammed Said, and a wealthy young widow of great personal attractions. An eastern Siwan, named Ahmed Hamza, wished to marry her. It was considered a suitable match, and all her relations approved, except her stepson, Mohammed Said, who was supported by the Medinia sect of Siwans, who had another prospective husband. One night she disappeared. It was found that she had fled to the house of Osman Habun, a very powerful western sheikh, the most influential man in Siwa, who was the representative of the Senussi. The son demanded his mother from the Habun family, who refused to surrender her. The war drums were beaten, and a fight between east and west was imminent. But at the last moment Habun surrendered the woman, who returned to her own house. On the next day she ran away again; this time she went to the house of a western Siwan, called Abdulla Mansur, whom she wished to marry, although she herself should have held no views on the subject. The whole town was disturbed by the widow’s unseemly behaviour. Finally her stepson forced her to marry the man whom he had chosen, and the widow retired from the scene.

But Ahmed Hamza resented losing her, and in revenge, some of his friends attacked some relations of Mohammed Said’s, on the road to Aghourmi, and killed two of them. Then Mohammed Said, with the easterners, raided the western gardens, and the westerners retaliated by carrying off sheep and cattle. The war drums were beaten, which signal meant that every man must be ready and armed within twenty-four hours; flags were displayed on the western hill and on the highest fort of the eastern quarter, and the doors leading into the street that divides the town were barred with palm logs. At the end of the twenty-four hours the eastern force assembled on Shali—the high town—and the western forces stationed themselves on their rock. The easterners opened fire and shot, by mistake, a small Arab boy. A truce was called while both parties discussed the compensation. But during the truce an eastern man, going out to his garden, was killed by a party of westerners, so the fight began again, both sides firing across the street with long, Arab guns and old-fashioned blunderbusses. The Turkish mamur and his little force retired to the Markaz, well out of harm’s way.

[Illustration: GATE INTO THE WESTERN QUARTER]

The westerners had only one good spring within convenient reach of the town. They posted a guard round it, and the easterners, not expecting to meet with resistance, made a sortie, intending to capture the spring. The attacking party was beaten off and driven away from the town towards the gardens. The rest of the easterners, seeing their comrades in flight, came down from the town and followed after them. Then the entire western force, led by their chief, Osman Habun, on his great white war-horse, the only one in Siwa, surged out of the town, through the narrow gates, firing and shrieking, waving swords and spears, followed by their women throwing stones. Every able-bodied man and woman joined in the battle beneath the walls, and only a few old men and children remained on the battlements watching the fight.

After a fierce combat, lasting for nearly a day, resulting in many casualties, the western force was beaten back towards the town, and “The Habun” found himself in danger of being captured. The western women had followed their men out from the town and were watching the battle from the gardens. Habun’s mother, seeing her son in danger, collected a dozen women of his house and managed to get near him. He left his horse and slipped into the gardens where he joined the women. They dressed him as a girl, and with them he escaped to the tomb of Sidi Suliman, where he hid. While in hiding Habun communicated with the Senussi brethren at Jerabub, who intervened and patched up a peace. Nowadays, if one wants to insult one of the Habun family, there is no surer method than by inquiring who it was who escaped from a battle disguised as a woman.

After this the Egyptian Government realized that a stronger force was needed to keep order in Siwa, so they sent some more men and a few cavalry. The Senussi Government also tried to make a lasting peace between east and west. Sheikh Osman Habun, agent of the Senussi in Siwa, was at this time the most wealthy and powerful man in the oasis. He was a large landowner and employed a small army of slaves. He was related by marriage to most of the western sheikhs, and many of the Siwan notables were beholden to him for financial assistance. From his large fortified house in the town he dominated the western faction, and his armoury included some modern weapons which he had stolen from a certain English traveller. In appearance he was a fine, handsome man, with a masterful manner and a commanding presence. When he went abroad a numerous retinue followed him, and he received visitors to his house with almost regal state. He married several times, and had nine sons and daughters.

Several years before the Great War a certain Arab called Abdel Arti, a notorious smuggler of hashish between Egypt and Tripoli, made a raid on some bedouins who camped at Lubbok, a little oasis where there is water and good grazing about eight miles south of Siwa, among the sand-dunes. He called at Lubbok to get water on his way to Egypt via the oasis of Bahrein. One of the bedouins came to Siwa and warned the mamur, who summoned the sheikhs and the people. Osman Habun was at this time an ally of Abdel Arti and knew his plans. The eastern people assembled, but the westerners delayed. Eventually, after many absurd excuses, Osman Habun arrived and accompanied the mamur and an armed party to Lubbok; but they found that the smugglers had escaped, carrying off several women and leaving two of the bedouins dead on the field. The delay caused by Osman Habun had saved Abdel Arti from capture. When they returned the mamur held a court on Osman Habun and threatened to depose him and make another man omda in his place. Habun retired to his house and sulked, refusing to appear again when summoned by the mamur. One of Habun’s sons was ordered to bring his father to the Markaz, but he returned with a message that being the month of Ramadan his father was fasting and could not go out.

Then the mamur, with his few soldiers and some Sudanese camel corps, followed by a shouting mob of Siwans, went up the steep, dark streets that lead to the house of “The Habun.” By the time that they had arrived night had fallen. They found the great wooden door locked and barred, and the house full of armed men, but they managed to break in the door and enter the ground floor. But the stairs were strongly barricaded, so they went outside and lit lanterns while they discussed what to do. Then the soldiers started firing up at the windows, and the defenders fired back, people in the adjoining houses joining in. The soldiers retreated under some buildings across the lane, but as they did this the mamur was shot and left lying in the narrow alley. A Camel Corps man dashed out and dragged him into shelter. Meanwhile Osman Habun had escaped by a private door through the mosque behind the house. Eventually the soldiers entered the building and captured the defenders. Osman Habun attempted to escape through the town to Jerabub, but he was caught by Sheikh Mohammed Said, his rival of the eastern faction, and brought a prisoner to the Markaz where the mamur lay dying. He was tried for the murder of the mamur, found guilty, and hanged, and his eldest son, Hammado, was awarded penal servitude. He is still alive, in prison at Tura.

Osman Habun was one of the biggest men that Siwa ever produced, though he had many bad qualities. The Siwans say that he sacrificed himself for his son, Hammado, being an old man and not willing to see his son hanged, though Hammado is said to have killed the mamur. Abdel Arti, the cause of the trouble, had a fight with some of the Egyptian Coastguard Camel Corps, and killed one of them. They met him again among the desolate sand-dunes south of Siwa, and killed him, together with several of his followers. Their graves are distinguishable—rough stone cairns—on the unmapped desert where a route from Egypt to Tripoli is still called “Abdel Arti’s Road.”

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FOURTH PERIOD

SIWA AND THE WAR

The history of the British operations on the Western Desert of Egypt against the Senussi in 1915-1917 has been well described in several books, and by people who were actually present at the various engagements. I was not there at the time, so I am unable to give a first-hand account of it, but no history of Siwa would be complete without a sketch of the principal events of that campaign, which was one of the most brilliant and successful “side-shows” of the Great War, and has left a lasting impression on the Arabs of the Western Desert, which will be remembered for many years to come.

After the war in Tripoli between the Italians and the Turks, in 1911, the suzerainty of Italy over Tripoli was formally acknowledged at the Treaty of Lausanne, but although the whole of the country became an Italian possession only the coastal towns were held firmly. The Arabs in the south, and the Berber inhabitants of the various oases, strongly resented the Italian rule, and for this reason the seeds of propaganda sown by Turkish and German agents found fertile soil among the natives of Tripoli.

Germany had for a long time cast envious eyes on North Africa, and early in the war the Germans seem to have hoped that by their influence in the country they could stir the Arabs to sweep their much-hated Italian masters off the coast, and to advance against Egypt from the west. At the outbreak of war the Arabs in the south listened readily to the Turkish agents, who encouraged them with arms and money to revolt against the Italians and to take part in the Holy War, which was declared by the Sultan of Turkey against the English and the Allies. But the most important military and political factor on the Libyan Desert was the Senussi confraternity, and they, up to this time, had been decidedly pro-British.

The Senussi confraternity was founded by Sidi Mohammed Ben Ali es Senussi, who was born of Berber stock, but claimed descent from the Prophet, in Algeria, in 1787. In 1821 he went to Fez and became known as an ascetic religious who held severely to the simple teachings of the Koran. Just before the French occupation of Algeria he left his country and began travelling in North Africa, teaching his doctrine of a pure form of Islam. The occupation of his native country by Unbelievers probably contributed to the dislike of Christians which characterized his later life. After spending some years in North Africa he went to Cairo and settled at El Azhar, the great Mohammedan university of Egypt, but his strict ideals found no favour and his teaching was condemned by the Ulema. From Cairo he went to Mecca, where he studied with Sidi Ahmed Ibn Idris el Fasi, the leader of the Khadria confraternity, which had some influence in Morocco. On the death of Sidi Ahmed, Mohammed es Senussi became head of the sect and travelled for some years among the bedouins of the Hedjaz. But his doctrines were too peaceable for these fierce Arabs, and in 1838 he returned to the west and settled at Siwa.

In Siwa he inhabited the caves in the limestone rock below the Kasr Hassuna, living in one of them and using the other as an oratory. With his own hands he carved out the nitch—or “mihrab”—which faces Mecca. During his sojourn at Siwa he became very ill and at one time he almost died. The people of Siwa accepted his teachings with enthusiasm, and since then the greater proportion of the population have been ardent Senussiya. For this reason it has always been considered very dangerous for anybody who is not exceedingly religious and virtuous to inhabit these caves in the Kasr Hassuna.

When I was in the Kasr one of my servants asked for permission to live in the cave. I reminded him of the superstition, but allowed him to do so. It was most disastrous; after about a month he moved out and complained to me of the persistent misfortune that had dogged him. His wife ran away, he became ill, he had some money stolen from him, and was badly bitten by a tarantula. Another man, who had a reputation in the Section for being particularly religious, moved in, but he only remained a week, and after that the caves were left severely alone. None of the Siwans would live in this place under any consideration, and the Siwan wife of my Sudanese orderly lived in a little hut outside the entrance.

[Illustration: “KASR HASSUNA,” THE DISTRICT OFFICER’S HOUSE]

After eight months in Siwa Mohammed es Senussi went on to Jalo and came into contact with the Zouias, a fierce and warlike race of Arabs who held various oases in southern Tripoli. They adopted his teachings, and in 1844 he founded his first zawia—religious centre—at El Beda, where his eldest son was born. From this centre the Senussi brethren carried their teachings all over Africa, travelling with the great caravans of the merchants who traded in slaves, ivory, arms, etc., between the Sudan, Tripoli, Wadai and Egypt. Gradually they grew to be regarded as arbitrators in disputes, and important cases were brought to Mohammed es Senussi for his judgment. They successfully combined the duties of merchants and magistrates, acquiring great wealth and great influence. The Senussi were at all times opposed to luxury and intolerant of Unbelievers; they claimed that their form of Mohammedanism was more pure than any other, and as far as possible they kept aloof from politics.

In 1852 Mohammed es Senussi returned to Mecca, and shortly afterwards he formally excommunicated the Sultan of Turkey. In 1856 he came, for the last time, to Jerabub, ninety miles west of Siwa. He died here three years later and was buried in the tomb in the mosque. At the time of his death his prestige was enormous; pilgrims travelled many thousands of miles to visit Jerabub, and Senussism had spread all over Central and North Africa. The Senussi zawias became rich from the profits of trading and owned large numbers of slaves, also arms and ammunition were imported from Turkey, landed on the Tripoli coast and taken down to the south. One of the greatest authorities on the Senussi estimated their numbers at between one and a half and three millions at the time of the death of Mohammed es Senussi. But their importance as a military factor was not great; being spread over such a vast area they lacked cohesion, and any combined action would be almost an impossibility.

Mohammed es Senussi left two sons, Mohammed el Mahdi and Mohammed el Sherif. The former succeeded his father as the leader of the Senussi. He spent a considerable part of his life at Jerabub, acquiring great wealth and strengthening his influence by peaceable penetration. In 1884 he refused to help the Sudanese Mahdi, who appealed to the Senussi for assistance in driving the English out of Egypt. If the Senussi had risen then and joined with the Sudanese the position of Egypt would have been very dangerous. Mohammed el Mahdi died in 1902 and was succeeded by his nephew, Sayed Ahmed, as the son of Mohammed el Mahdi was still a boy.

When Sayed Ahmed succeeded, the French were pushing their conquests inland from the coast, and the Turks were also advancing southwards in Tripoli. Sayed Ahmed did all he could to oppose them, but gradually he was forced to retire. One by one the various zawias were occupied, till finally the Senussi chief was driven back to Kufra and Jerabub. In 1911 Sayed Ahmed allied himself to the Turks, although the Senussi had always been at enmity with them, and when the Italians landed on the Tripoli coast the Senussi supported the Turks in the war against the Italians, and when the Turks were finally beaten the Senussi in the interior became once more practically independent.

In the summer of 1915 the Senussi were still ostensibly at peace with Egypt and Britain, but the pro-German agents had successfully fomented an anti-British feeling, and the Arabs were being armed and organized by German and Turkish officers who landed in submarines—from Constantinople—evaded the Italians on the coast, and went down south into the Senussi country. The British and Italian alliance was an incentive to the Arabs in Tripoli, who bitterly resented the Italian occupation of their country.

Sollum, the frontier post, was garrisoned by a small detachment of the Egyptian army and the Coastguards, native troops with two or three English officers. In August, 1915, the crews of two English submarines, wrecked on the coast west of Sollum, were fired upon by the Senussi, but Sayed Ahmed apologized and declared that he did not know what nationality the men were. In the autumn it was known that the British attempt at Gallipoli was doomed; there was a danger of disturbances in Egypt, and the Turks attacked the Suez Canal.

On November 5th the _Tara_, an armed patrol boat, was torpedoed off Sollum. Three of her boats came ashore a few miles west of the frontier, and ninety-two men of the crew were captured by some Senussi Arabs and carried inland to a place called Bir Hakim, a well which lies about seventy miles south of the coast; here they were kept prisoners for several months, and during this time they suffered the most excessive privations at the hands of their captors. They were so badly fed that they were forced to eat snails, which are very plentiful in some parts of the desert; several men died, and their attempts to escape were in all cases unsuccessful. The history of their sufferings and adventures forms the subject of two books written by one of the survivors on his return home. Even after this incident Sidi Ahmed continued to protest his friendship for the British, and disclaimed any knowledge of the whereabouts of the _Tara_’s crew.

About this time large numbers of Arabs began to collect on the high desert above Sollum. The garrison was slightly reinforced and some armoured cars came up the coast from Egypt. On November 23rd Sollum was attacked by a numerous force of Senussi, armed with a miscellaneous collection of fire-arms and some old guns. The garrison was evacuated on to the _Rasheed_, an Egyptian gunboat, during a heavy sand-storm, and on the same day the garrison of Barrani was taken down the coast on another boat. They landed at Matruh, which was put into a state of defence, and the garrison was very soon considerably augmented by British troops who were hurried up from Alexandria in trawlers and in cars from the railhead. A few days after they arrived at Matruh some of the men of the Egyptian Coastguards went over to the enemy, and Colonel Snow Bey, of the Coastguards, was shot while speaking to some so-called friendly Arabs on a reconnaissance.

Colonel Snow and Major Royle, another officer of the Coastguards who lost his life later in the war, after joining the Flying Corps, were both very well known on the Western Desert. As a rule, the bedouins do not talk much of the Englishmen who lived and served among them, but even now, several years later, one constantly hears these two names mentioned round the camp fires of the Arabs.

While the British force was building up the defences of Matruh, the Senussi collected a few miles west of the town. On December 13th the garrison advanced against the enemy, and a force of about 1300 Senussi was cleared out from a long wadi and driven off with heavy casualties. On this occasion a squadron of Yeomanry, who were fired on from a gully, charged at the enemy and came suddenly on a deep and unexpected drop.

Towards the end of the month another large force of Arabs, under the command of Gaffar Pasha, a Germanized Turk and a very capable officer, occupied a valley called Wadi Majid, near Matruh. It appeared that they intended attacking Matruh on Christmas Day, when they supposed that the garrison would be eating and drinking—though, as it happened, there was not even any beer in the town. On Christmas Eve the British force, consisting of part of a New Zealand brigade, some Sikhs, Australian Light Horse and British Yeomanry, supported by aeroplanes and naval ships, which shelled the enemy from the coast, went out of Matruh and fought a successful action on Christmas Day. The Arab camp was destroyed, and the enemy were beaten off with heavy casualties. After the engagement the British force returned to Matruh. By this time the usual winter weather had begun; floods of rain fell on the coast, filling the wadis, swamping the roads and turning the country into a morass. Once again the enemy concentrated, at a place about 26 miles west of Matruh. They were located by aeroplanes, attacked and again driven westward. On February 26th another engagement took place at Agagia, near Barrani. The enemy lost heavily and Gaffar Pasha, the Commander of the Senussi army, was captured during a brilliant charge which was made by the Dorset Yeomanry. After this defeat Sayed Ahmed, the Senussi chief, with a number of his supporters and a huge quantity of baggage, retired from the coast, which was getting too hot for him, and trekked across the desert down to Siwa, travelling in great comfort with gramophones, clocks, brass bedsteads and a large harem!

On arrival at Siwa he settled himself in the Kasr Hassuna, but he lived in a very different style to his ancestor, the original Mohammed es Senussi. A renegade Coastguard officer, Mohammed Effendi Saleh, was appointed as his second in command. At first the Siwans welcomed Sayed Ahmed with great enthusiasm, but their feelings rapidly changed when the ill-disciplined mob that made up his army took to spoiling the gardens and robbing the people. Mohammed Saleh had been in Siwa before and he knew exactly how much money the various inhabitants had. This acquaintance with everybody’s financial position was of great use when he began to extort money from the natives. Those who could not or would not pay were beaten in the market-place and forcibly enlisted into the army; those who paid a little were made corporals and officers, and only the people who gave much money were exempt from service. The richest sheikhs and merchants were presented with Turkish and German medals and orders and promoted to Pashas and Beys. The officers of the Senussi force attired themselves in bright green putties, which they manufactured from the green baize tablecloths in the offices of the Markaz; all the files and the Government furniture, etc., was seized by Sayed Ahmed, who carried it about with him during the rest of the campaign, eventually leaving it at Jerabub when he finally left the country.

Meanwhile the campaign on the coast was going badly for the Senussi. Barrani was occupied after the battle of Agagia, and from there the British force, reinforced by the Duke of Westminster and his armoured cars, pushed on towards Sollum, which was occupied on the 14th of March. Sollum was captured by a rear attack from above the Scarp, armoured cars and troops having managed to find a way up the cliffs by a steep, precipitous pass known as “Negb Halfia,” or “Hell Fire Pass,” as it was afterwards called. The Senussi blew up their large ammunition dump at Bir Wær, on the frontier, and the remains of their army were driven over the desert for many miles, pursued by the British cars, which scattered them far and wide and inspired all the Arabs with a holy dread of “Trombiles”—motors—which will never be forgotten. The capture of Sollum virtually ended the fighting on the coast; after that only Siwa remained to be cleared out. The country was full of fugitives and their starving families, who were fed and provided for by the British. Arab women flocked round the garrisons at Sollum and Matruh offering their silver ornaments and jewellery in exchange for food.

On April 16th, much to the relief of the inhabitants, Sayed Ahmed left Siwa _en route_ for the Dakhla oasis. He took with him most of the able-bodied men in the place, as well as a number of Senussi soldiers and many camel loads of luggage. The Siwans were expected to bring their own food, but by this time they were reduced to such a state of poverty that they had not even enough dates to support themselves. A number of men died on the road, and still more deserted and made their way back to the oasis. Sayed Ahmed stayed for several months at Dakhla and then returned to Siwa, hurrying back like a hunted hare. On each of these little desert trips the Grand Sheikh shed a little of his baggage.

During his absence from Siwa the sheikhs of the Medinia sect organized a very successful little rebellion. The people revolted against the Senussi sheikhs who had been left in charge, drove them into the Markaz, and besieged them for two days. Eventually peace was made, but not before the Senussi sheikhs had sent frantic messages to Sayed Ahmed complaining of the scandalous behaviour of the Siwans and imploring him to return. The Siwans at the same time sent letters to Sayed Ahmed with complaints against his sheikhs who had stayed in Siwa to keep order. The messengers met on the road and journeyed together till they came upon Sayed Ahmed and his party between Dakhla and Siwa. They handed their letters to the sheikh and he read them together. The news of the “goings-on” at Siwa hastened his return.

Once again he established himself in the Kasr Hassuna. Here he indulged in severe religious observances and urged the people to pray for divine help against the Unbelievers who had destroyed the Senussi army on the coast. In January Sayed Ahmed and Mohammed Saleh, his second in command, were considering retiring to Jerabub, so as to be still further away from the British. On the 2nd of February a force of armoured cars, lorries and light cars arrived a few miles north of Girba, a little oasis in a deep rocky valley north-west of Siwa. On the following day the cars successfully descended the pass and attacked the enemy camp at Girba. The Senussi were absolutely astounded. They had already learnt to fear the British cars, but they never for one moment thought it possible that a large force of motors could dash across the desert from the coast, almost 200 miles, and attack them in their stronghold. Owing to the rocky ground the cars were unable to get at close quarters with the enemy. The action lasted a whole day. The Senussi, who numbered about 800, were under the command of Mohammed Saleh, and another force of about 500 men were at Siwa with Sayed Ahmed. At the first alarm the Grand Sheikh bundled himself and his belongings on to camels and fled frantically over the sand-dunes towards Jerabub, followed by a straggling mob of Arabs. On the evening of the 4th the enemy began to retire from their position at Girba, burning arms and ammunition before evacuating, and on the 5th of February the cars entered Siwa and the British force was received by the sheikhs and notables at the Markaz with expressions of relief and goodwill. The column left the town on the same day and reached “Concentration Point,” north of Girba, on the following day.

Another detachment had been sent to a pass above the western end of the oasis in order to intercept the fugitives, but only a few cars were able to get down from the high country above, but the one Light Car Patrol which did descend managed to cut off a number of the enemy who were retreating to the west. On the 8th February the whole column went back to Sollum. The enemy’s losses were 40 killed, including 2 Senussi officers, and 200 wounded, including 5 Turkish officers. Sayed Ahmed and Mohammed Saleh both escaped, but after this crushing defeat, and the capture of the Siwa oasis, all danger from the Senussi forces was at an end.

Some time previously, after the occupation of Sollum by the British, information was found as to the whereabouts of the prisoners from the _Tara_, who had been joined by the survivors of the _Moorina_, who had also landed on the coast and had been captured by the Arabs. A force of armoured cars and other cars, under the command of the Duke of Westminster, set off on the 17th from Sollum with a native guide. They dashed across the desert to Bir Hakim, rescued the prisoners and brought them back to Sollum, having travelled across some 120 miles of unknown desert and attacked an enemy whose numbers they did not know. This gallant enterprise was perhaps the most brilliant affair which occurred during the operations on the Western Desert. The Duke of Westminster received the D.S.O. for his exploit, and was recommended for the Victoria Cross.

After the capture of Siwa there was no more fighting on the Western Desert. Sollum, Matruh and the various stations on the coast were garrisoned with British infantry, gunners and Camel Corps, and a standing camp of Light Cars was made at Siwa, where they remained for some time. The F.D.A. took over the Administration of the Western Desert, and gradually the garrisons were withdrawn and replaced by F.D.A. Camel Corps. To-day there only remains one small detachment of Light Car Patrols in the fort at Sollum.

Sayed Ahmed and Mohammed Saleh were never captured. The Grand Sheikh’s progress terminated on the Tripoli coast, where he was met by a Turkish submarine and carried over to Constantinople. He was received by the Sultan and has remained there ever since, an exile from his native land, probably regretting that he ever allowed himself to be persuaded to throw in his lot with the Turks.

Sayed Ahmed did not distinguish himself in this campaign. Whenever he thought that the fighting was too near he hurriedly retired to some more distant place. His cowardly conduct was to a certain extent responsible for the failure of his troops; he never took part in the fighting and never led them in person. His behaviour was very different to that of Ali Dinar, Sultan of Darfur, in the Sudan, who was also persuaded by the Turks to rebel against the English at the same time. The latter showed considerable personal courage, and was killed on the field at the end of the war. Sayed Ahmed was succeeded by his cousin, Sidi Mohammed Idris, the son of Mohammed el Madhi, who had always shown himself to be strongly pro-British, and had carefully refrained from taking any part in the Senussi rising and the subsequent campaign. An agreement was drawn up by the British and the Italians which arranged that Idris should be responsible for keeping order inland, and that he should receive money and assistance. This arrangement has been in force up to now, and is in every way a success.

[Illustration: SHEIKH MOHAMMED IDRIS, THE CHIEF OF THE SENUSSI]