Front matter (continued 2)

Eleven clothes-shops. In these various articles of dress are sold every morning by public auction. The greater part of those dresses are of the Turkish fashion, adopted by merchants of the first and second classes, with some trifling national variations in the cut of the clothes. During the period of the Hadj, these shops are principally frequented for the purchase of the Hiram or Ihram, that mantle in which the pilgrimage is performed, and which consists generally of two long pieces of white Indian cambric. Here, too, the Hedjaz Bedouins come to buy the woollen abbas, or Bedouin cloaks, brought from Egypt, on which country they entirely depend for this article; and thus they seem to possess the same indolent character as most people of the Hedjaz; for it is customary with the wives of other Bedouins to fabricate their own abbas. Here, also, they bring Turkish carpets of an inferior quality, which form an indispensable article of furniture for the tent of a Sheikh. In these shops are likewise retailed all other imports from Egypt necessary for dress, as mellayes, cotton quilts, linen for shirts, shirts dyed blue, worn by the peasants, red and yellow slippers,

[p.38] used by the more opulent merchants, and by all the ladies, red caps, all kinds of cloth dresses, second-hand cashmere shawls, muslin shawls, &c. &c.

Six large shops of Indian piece-goods: French cloth, cashmere shawls, &c. belonging to respectable merchants, whose clerks here sell by retail. Almost all the principal merchants carry on also a retail business in their own houses, except the great Indian merchants established here, who deal in nothing but Indian piece-goods. The other merchants of Djidda engage in every branch of commerce. I once saw the brother of Djeylany quarrelling with a Yembo pedlar about the price of a mellaye, worth about fifteen shillings; but this is the case also in Egypt and Syria, where the most wealthy native merchants sell in retail, and enter into all the minute details of business, and yet without keeping any large establishment of clerks or accomptants, which their mode of conducting business renders little necessary. A Turkish merchant never keeps more than one accompt-book; into this he copies from a pocket-book his weekly sales and purchases. They have not that extensive correspondence which European merchants are obliged to keep up; and they write much less, though perhaps more to the purpose, than the latter. In every town with which they traffic, they have one friend, with whom they annually balance accounts. Turkish merchants, with the exception of those living in sea-ports, generally pursue but one branch of trade; maintaining a correspondence with the town only from whence they obtain their merchandize, and with that to which they transport it. Thus, for instance, the great Baghdad merchants of Aleppo, men with from thirty to forty thousand pounds in capital, receive goods from their friends at Baghdad, and then send them from Aleppo to Constantinople. I have known many of them who kept no clerk, but transacted the whole of their business themselves. At Cairo, the Syrian merchants trade in the stuffs of Damascus and Aleppo, and

[p.39] are altogether unconnected with the Maggrebin, Syria, and Djidda merchants.

Mercantile transactions are farther simplified by the traders employing chiefly their own capital, commission business being much less extensive than it is in Europe. When a merchant consigns a considerable quantity of goods to a place, he sends a partner with them, or perhaps a relative, if he have no partner resident in the place. Ranking concerns and bills of exchange are wholly unknown among the natives, which saves them much trouble. In those towns where European factories are established, bills may be found, but they are hardly current with the natives, among whom assignments only are customary.

The practice followed equally by Mahomedan, Christian, and Jewish merchants, in the East, of never drawing an exact balance of the actual state of their capital, is another cause that renders the details of book-keeping less necessary here than in Europe. For the same reason that a Bedouin never counts the tents of his tribe, nor the exact number of his sheep, nor a military chief the exact number of his men, nor a governor the number of inhabitants of his town, a merchant never attempts to ascertain the exact amount of his property; an approximation only is all that be desires. This arises from a belief that counting is an ostentatious display of wealth, which heaven will punish by a speedy diminution.

The Eastern merchant seldom enters into hazardous speculations, but limits his transactions to the extent of his capital. Credit to a great amount is obtained with difficulty, as affairs of individuals are in general much more publicly known than in Europe; failures are, therefore, of rare occurrence; and when a man becomes embarrassed either from an unsuccessful speculation or inevitable losses, his creditors forbear to press their demands, and are generally paid after a few years patience;

[p.40] thereby saving the merchants credit, and preventing the consequences of bankruptcy.

On the other hand, however, the Eastern merchants are liable to the imputation of uncertainty in their payments, which they often delay beyond the stipulated periods. Even the most respectable among them do not hesitate to put off the payment of a debt for months; and it may be stated as a general rule in Egypt and Syria, that assignments are never fully paid till after a lapse of nearly double the time named. But this, I was often assured by the best informed people here, has only become the practice within the last twenty or thirty years, and is a consequence of the universal decay of commerce and diminution of capital in the Levant. At Djidda, as I have already observed, almost all bargains are made for ready money.

Three sellers of copper vessels. A variety of well-tinned copper vessels may be found in every Arabian kitchen. Even the Bedouins have one capacious boiler, at least, in every tent. The whole of these come from Egypt. The most conspicuous article of this description is the abrík, or water-pot, with which the Muselman performs his ablutions. No Turkish pilgrim arrives in the Hedjaz without one of these pots, or at least he purchases one at Djidda. There are found, also, in the market a few copper vessels from China, brought hither by the Malays; but they are not tinned, and though the copper seems to be of a much finer quality than that of Anatolia, which is brought from Cairo, the Arabs dislike to use it.

Four barbers shops. The barbers are at once the surgeons and physicians of this country. They know how to let blood, and to compound different sorts of aperient medicines. The few Arabians whose beards are longer and thicker than those of their country-men usually are, take great pains in keeping them neatly cut, so that not a hair may project beyond another. The mustachios are

[p.41] always cut closely, and never allowed to hang over the lips; in this they differ from the northern Turks, who seldom touch their thick bushy mustachios with scissors. The barbers shops are frequented by loungers of the lower classes, who resort thither to hear the news, and amuse themselves with conversation. In one of these shops I found established a seal-engraver of Persian origin; he had a good deal of business, for a pilgrim, after he has performed his visits to the holy places, usually adds to the name on his seal the words El Hadjy, or The Pilgrim.

Four tailors. Many others live in various parts of the town; they are mostly foreigners. Tousoun Pashas court-tailor was a Christian of Bosnia, and exercised authority over all the other tailors in the town; who complained bitterly of being subjected, not only to the commands and insults, but often to the stick of this Christian.

Five makers of nâl, or sandals. There is not one shoe-maker in the Hedjaz. Those who wear shoes or slippers buy them of the merchants by whom they are imported from Egypt.

The shape of the sandals used throughout Arabia differs in every province; and to those delineated by Niebuhr, a dozen other forms might be added. Some are peculiar to certain classes: a merchant, for instance, would not wear the sandals of a mariner. This is the case in Turkey with regard to shoes, of which each province and class has its particular shape. Egypt and Abyssinia furnish the thick leather used in making sandals.

Three shops where water-skins brought from Sowakin and Egypt are sold and repaired. The greater part of the Hedjaz is furnished with water- skins from Sowakin; they are in great request, being very light, and sewed with much neatness. A Sowakin water-skin will last, in daily use, about three or four months.

Two turners, who bore pipe-tubes, and make beads, &c.

Three sellers of sweet-oils or essences, civet, aloe-wood, balsam of Mekka, and rose-water from Fayoum in Egypt. The civet

[p.42] and Mekka balsam can seldom be bought pure, except at first hand. The Habesh or Abyssinian merchants bring the civet in large cow-horns; they sold it at four piastres per drachm in the year 1814. Musk also is sold in these shops, the best at two dollars per metkal. It is brought hither by the Indian and Persian Hadjys.

One watchmaker, a Turk. All the Mekka and Djidda merchants wear watches, many of which are of good English manufacture; they are brought either from India, or by the Hadjys from Constantinople. As it often happens that the Turkish pilgrims want money in the Hedjaz, they are sometimes compelled to dispose of their most valuable articles; the watch is always the first, then the pistols and sabre, and lastly the fine pipe, and best copy of the Korán: all these articles are consequently very common in the auction-markets of Djidda and Mekka.

One seller of Turkish and Persian tobacco-pipes. The latter come principally from Baghdad. The wealthy often display in their sitting- rooms a whole range of the finest nargils: these cost as much as one hundred dollars a piece.

Seven money-dealers, or seráfs. They sit upon benches in the open street, with a large box before them containing the money. Formerly, these seráfs were all Jews, as is still the case, with few exceptions, at Cairo, Damascus, and Aleppo; but since the Sherif-Serour drove the Jews out of the Hedjaz, the Djiddawys themselves have taken up the profession, to which their natural disposition and habits incline them. There is usually at each stand a partnership of them, comprising half a dozen individuals. A large amount of cash is required to carry on the business; but it is very profitable. The value of money changes here more rapidly than in any part of the East with which I am acquainted. The price of dollars and sequins fluctuates almost daily, and the seráfs are always sure to be gainers. During the stay of the Indian fleet, the value of a dollar becomes very high. While I was at Djidda, it rose

[p.43] to eleven and twelve piastres. After the departure of the fleet, when there is no immediate demand for dollars, the price falls; in January, 1815, it was at nine piastres. The gold coins vary in proportion.

Formerly the old current coins of the Hedjaz were Venetian and Hungarian sequins, Spanish dollars, and money coined at Constantinople. Egyptian coins were wholly excluded; [According to the historians of Mekka, it appears that the sherifs there assumed the privilege of coining their own money, in the name of the Sultan of Constantinople, as late as the seventeenth century; but this is now abandoned.] but since the arrival of the troops of Mohammed Ali Pasha, all the Cairo coins have been forcibly put into circulation, and the Cairo silver money is now next in estimation to the Spanish dollar. The Pasha of Egypt, who enjoys the right of coining money in the name of the Sultan, has lately much abused this privilege. In 1815, he farmed out the mint for a yearly sum of seven millions of piastres, which is, at the present rate of exchange, about two hundred thousand pounds sterling, obliging the people to take the dollar at eight of his piastres, although it is well known to be now worth twenty-two or twenty-three. In the Hedjaz he has not the same means of enforcing his despotic measures to their full extent; and thus it happens that in the interior of the country, where the Turkish troops are placed, the value of the dollar is eighteen or nineteen piastres. The Bedouins, however, refuse to take the Egyptian piastres, even at a depreciation, and will receive nothing but dollars; a determination to which the Pasha himself has been frequently obliged to yield.

The párá, or smallest Turkish coin, (here called diwany,) is current all over the Hedjaz, and in great request, from its being of more intrinsic value than the piastre, though coined like them at Cairo. Forty párás make a piastre; but in the time of the Hadj, when small change is necessary for the immense daily traffic of the pilgrims, the seráfs gave twenty-five párás only in

[p.44] change for the piastre. A few Indian rupees are seen in the Djidda market, but they have no currency. I never met with any money coined by the Imám of Yemen.

In the same great street of shops are ten large okales, always full of strangers and goods. Most of them were formerly the property of the sherif; they now belong to the Pasha, who levies an annual rent on the merchants. In Syria these buildings are called khans; in the Hedjaz hosh, which, in the dialect of Egypt, means a court-yard.

In a street adjoining the great market-place live a few artisans, blacksmiths, silversmiths, carpenters, some butchers, &c. most of them natives of Egypt.

The reader will perceive, by the foregoing pages, that Djidda depends for its commodities entirely on importations either from Egypt or the East Indies; and this is the case even to the most trifling article. The want of hands, and the high price of manual labour, but still more the indolence and want of industry inherent in the natives of the Hedjaz, have hitherto prevented them from establishing any kind of manufactory, except of the most indispensable articles. In this respect they offer a contrast to the Syrian and Egyptian Arabs, who in general are industrious, and who, in spite of the obstacles often thrown in their way by the government, have nevertheless established several manufactures, which render them, in some parts of the country, entirely independent of foreign supplies. The inhabitants of the Hedjaz appear to have only two occupations; commerce, and the pasture of cattle. The first engrosses the mind of almost every town-inhabitant, not excepting even the olemas, or learned men. Every one endeavours to employ whatever capital he possesses in some advantageous traffic, that he may live without much bodily exertion; for these people seem to be as averse to the latter as they are eager to endure all the anxieties and risks inseparable from the former. It is even difficult to find persons who will perform the common

[p.45] labour of porters, &c.: those who follow similar occupations are for the most part foreigners from Egypt or Syria, and negro pilgrims, who thus earn a very comfortable livelihood, and generally make but a temporary stay at Djidda. The only race of Arabians whom I have found more industrious than the others, are the people of Hadramaut, or, as they are called, El Hadáreme. Many of them act as servants in the merchants houses, as door-keepers, messengers, and porters, in which latter character they are preferred to all others for their honesty and industry. Almost every considerable town in the East has its particular race of porters: at Aleppo, the Armenians of the mountains of Asia Minor are in request for this office; at Damascus, the people of Mount Libanus; at Cairo, the Berábera Nubians; at Mekka and Djidda, the Hadáreme, who, like those of Syria, are mountaineers. It is well known that similar qualifications recommend my countrymen, the Alpine mountaineers, to the same offices at Paris. There is another striking similarity among the natives of all these countries; they generally return home with their gains, and pass the remainder of their days with their families. Notwithstanding this source, there is a great and almost absolute want of free servants in the Hedjaz. No man who has been born in one of the holy cities, will act as a menial servant, unless he be driven to it by the fear of dying from want of food; and no sooner is he in good condition, than he ceases to labour, and either turns pedlar or beggar. The number of beggars at Mekka and Djidda is very great, and it is a common remark among the merchants of the latter place, that a Djiddawy will never work while he can possibly maintain himself by begging. Mendicity is much encouraged by the pilgrims, who are fond of displaying their charity on first touching holy ground at this place.

Respecting the people of Djidda and their character, I shall have occasion to make further observations in describing the inhabitants of Mekka, whom generally they resemble. In fact, all the

[p.46] respectable families have houses at both places, and frequently pass from one to the other.

Djidda is governed by a pasha of three tails, who takes precedence of most others, from the connexion of this place with the holy cities; but the government of it is an honour little esteemed by the Turkish grandees, who have always regarded Djidda as a place rather of exile than of preferment, and it has often been conferred on disgraced statesmen. The Pasha styles himself not only Wály or governor of Djidda, but of Sowakin and Habesh; and in support of this title, keeps custom- house officers at Sowakin and Massoua, which, prior to the government of Mohammed Aly, were entirely dependent on the sherif.

The pashalik of Djidda was reduced to perfect insignificance by the power of the sherif of Mekka; and the title had become merely an honorary distinction, enjoyed by the individual on whom it had been bestowed, while he resided in some provincial town of Turkey or at Constantinople, without ever attempting to take possession of his government. There was, however, an exception in 1803, when, after the total evacuation of Egypt by the French, Sherif Pasha went to Djidda with a body of four or five hundred soldiers; but like all his predecessors, he became the mere instrument of Sherif Ghaleb, and in 1804 his career was terminated by sudden death-the fate of many former Pashas both of Djidda and of Mekka.

According to the orders of the Sultan, whose nominal supremacy over the Hedjaz was recognised until the last Wahaby conquest, the revenue arising from the customs collected at Djidda should have been divided equally between the Pasha and the sherif of Mekka, while the former was to have exclusively the command of the town. When the Turks began to subdue Asia, the sherif received only one third of this revenue, and it was not until the year of the Hedjira 1042 that he obtained the half. [Vide Asámi, History of the Hedjaz.] Subsequently,

[p.47] however, the sherif not only usurped the government of Djidda, but also applied the customs wholly to his own use, the Pasha being rendered altogether dependent upon his bounty.

Soon after the death of Sherif Pasha, the Sherif Ghaleb was obliged to surrender Mekka to the Wahabys, having been besieged, the preceding year, in Djidda, by Saoud. He then openly declared himself a proselyte to the Wahaby faith, and a subject of the Wahaby chief, though he still retained full possession of Djidda and the produce of its customs, which formed the principal part of his income. The Wahabys did not enter the town, which ostensibly declared in favour of their doctrines. The Turkish soldiers were now obliged to retire towards Egypt, or elsewhere; and from that period till 1811 all Turkish authority was entirely excluded from the Hedjaz.

In 1811, Mohammed Aly Pasha commenced his operations against the Wahabys, by sending a body of troops under the command of his son Tousoun Bey, who was defeated in the passes between Yembo and Medina. A second, in 1812, was more successful: while Tousoun, in September of that year, took Medina, Mustafa Bey, the Pashas brother-in-law, proceeded directly with the cavalry under his command to Djidda, Mekka, and Tayf; all which surrendered, almost without bloodshed. The Sherif Ghaleb, who, from the moment he began to apprehend the probable success of Alys expedition, had entered into a secret correspondence with Egypt, now openly declared himself a friend to the Turks, who entered Djidda as friends. The title of Pasha of Djidda was soon after conferred by the Porte upon Tousoun, as a reward for his services. The details of this war will be given in another place; I shall, therefore, only mention here, that after the Osmanlys, or Turks, entered Djidda, a quarrel arose between the Pasha and the sherif respecting the customs, which were to be divided between them, but which the Pasha, being now superior in power, kept wholly to himself. He sent the sherif as prisoner to Turkey, and

[p.48] since that event, the town has continued wholly at his disposal, the new sherif, Yahya, being a servant in the pay of Tousoun.

Djidda, in the time of Sherif Ghaleb, was governed either by himself, when he resided there, or, during his absence, by an officer called Vizir, under whose orders the police of the town was placed; while the collection of the customs (gumruk) was entrusted to another officer, called the gumrukdjy; and the police of the harbour to the Emir el Bahhr, or the Chief of the Sea, a title equivalent to harbour- master. In later times the vizir was a black slave of Ghaleb, and much detested for his pride and despotic conduct. Ghaleb seldom resided in Djidda, his continual intrigues with the Bedouins, and his schemes against the Wahaby tribes, requiring his presence in the more central position of Mekka.

The form of government which existed under Ghaleb has not been changed by the Osmanlys. It happened that Tousoun Pasha could seldom reside in his capital, being placed under the command of his father, who received from the Porte the entire direction of the Hedjaz war, and the disposal of all the resources of that country. Tousoun was more usefully employed in moving about with the troops under his command, till he returned to Cairo in the autumn of 1815. Since the year 1812, a military commander has always resided in the town, with a garrison of two or three hundred men, which the Pasha takes care to change every three or four months. The collection of the customs, the entire regulation of civil affairs, the correspondence with Cairo and Mekka, the conveyance of troops, stores, and government merchandize between Egypt and Djidda, and the Pashas treasury, are in the hands of this commander, whose name is Seyd Ali Odjakly. His father was from Asia Minor, and belonged to the corps of Janissaries (Odjak), whence his son takes the epithet of Odjakly. He is disliked by the merchants of Djidda, because they remember his selling nuts in the streets about twenty years ago. In the time of Sherif Ghaleb,

[p.49] he was employed by him in his private commercial affairs; and as he possesses great talents and activity, joined to a good knowledge of the Turkish language, Mohammed Ali could with difficulty have pitched upon a person more competent to fill the post which he now holds.

The public revenue of Djidda arises almost exclusively from the customs, called here ashour, or tithes. This ought legally to be, as I was informed, ten per cent. upon all imported goods; but, in consequence of abuses which have been long practised, some articles of merchandize are charged much higher, while others pay less. During the latter period of the sherifs power, coffee was charged at five dollars the quintal, which may be computed as fifteen to twenty per cent. Spices pay somewhat less than ten per cent.; India piece-goods something more. Great irregularity, therefore, exists in levying the customs; and it is in the power of the officer of customs to favour his friends without incurring any responsibility.

After the sherif had embraced the Wahabi doctrine, his income was greatly diminished; because Saoud, the chief of the Wahabis, insisted that the goods of all his followers should pass duty-free, and thus the greater part of the coffee trade became exempt. I heard from a person who had means of knowing the truth, and who had no motive for concealing it from me, that the amount of customs collected at Djidda in 1814 was four hundred thousand dollars, equal to eight thousand purses, or four millions of piastres, which would give an annual importation of about four millions of dollars, a sum certainly below rather than above the truth. Customs are levied after the same rate at the two gates of the town, called Bab Mekka and Bab el Medina, upon all provisions coming from the interior of the country, principally cattle, butter, and dates, which, in time of peace, when the communication with the interior is uninterrupted, becomes a matter of importance. Except these, the people of the town pay no imposts whatever.

[p.50] During my residence, the Turks had made Djidda the principal depot for their army. A large magazine of corn belonging to the Pasha, received almost daily supplies from Egypt, and caravans were every day despatched to Mekka and Tayf; the commerce of the town also was much increased by the wants of the army and its followers. The police of the place was well regulated; and the Pasha had given the strictest injunctions to his troops that they should not commit excesses, as he well knew that the high-minded Arabians do not so quietly submit to ill- treatment as the enslaved Egyptians: whenever quarrels happened between Arabs and Turks, the former generally had the advantage. No avanies (or wanton act of oppression and injustice) had, under any pretence, been exercised upon individuals, except in the occupation of a few of the best houses by the Pasha as lodgings for his wives. The merchants suffered, however, as in the sherifs time, from the arbitrary rates of customs, and from the necessity of frequently purchasing all kinds of merchandize from the Pasha, who, while he was in the Hedjaz, seemed to be as eager in his mercantile as he was in his military pursuits. But after an impartial view of the merits and demerits of both governments, it may be said that the people of Djidda have certainly gained by the Osmanlys; yet, strange to mention, not an Arab could be found, whether rich or poor, sincerely attached to his new masters; and the termination of the sherifs government was universally regretted. This must not be attributed wholly to the usual levity of a mob, which is found among the subjects of the Porte, even in a greater degree than among those of any European nation. The Ottoman governors or Pashas are continually changing, and every new one becoming a supreme ruler, gives ample cause for complaints and private hatred and disgust; while their rapid succession inspires the people with the hope of being soon rid of their present despot, an event to which they look forward with pleasure, as the first months of a new governor are generally marked by clemency and justice.

[p.51] The Arabians are a very proud, high-spirited nation; and this may be said even of those who inhabit the towns, however corrupted the true Bedouin character may be among this degenerate race. They despise every nation that does not speak the Arabic language, or that differs in manners; they have, besides, been accustomed, for many years, to look upon Turks as a very inferior people, who, whenever they entered the Hedjaz, were overawed by the power of the sherif. The rigid ceremonial of a Turkish court was not adapted to the character and established notions of Mohammed Alys new subjects. The sherif, in the height of his power, resembled a great Bedouin Sheikh, who submits to be boldly and often harshly addressed. A Turkish Pasha is approached with the most abject forms of servitude. Whenever the Sherif Ghaleb wanted a loan of money, observed one of the first merchants of the Hedjaz to me, he sent for three or four of us; we sat in close discourse with him for a couple of hours, often quarrelling loudly, and we always reduced the sum to something much less than was at first demanded. When we went to him on ordinary business, we spoke to him as I now speak to you; but the Pasha keeps us standing before him in an humble attitude, like so many Habesh (Abyssinian) slaves, and looks down upon us as if we were beings of an inferior creation. I would rather, he concluded, pay a fine to the sherif than receive a favour from the Pasha.

The little knowledge which the Turks possess of the Arabic language, their bad pronunciation of it even in reciting prayers from the Koran, the ignorance of Arabia and its peculiarities which they betray in every act, are so many additional causes to render them hateful or despicable in the eyes of the Arabs. The Turks return an equal share of contempt and dislike. Whoever does not speak the language of the Turkish soldier, or does not dress like one, is considered as a fellah, or boor, a term which they have been in the habit of applying to the Egyptian peasants, as beings in the lowest

[p.52] state of servitude and oppression. Their hatred of the Arabian race is greater, because they cannot indulge their tyrannical disposition with impunity, as they are accustomed to do in Egypt, being convinced by experience that an Arabian, when struck, will strike again. The Arabians particularly accuse the Turks of treachery, in seizing the sherif and sending him to Turkey after he had declared for the Pasha, and permitted Djidda and Mekka to be occupied by the Turkish troops, who, they assert, would never, without the assistance of the sherif, have been able to make any progress in Arabia, much less to acquire a firm footing therein.

The term khayn, treacherous, is universally applied to every Turk in Arabia, with that proud self-confidence of superiority, in this respect, for which the Arabs are deservedly renowned. The lower classes of the Arabs have discovered a fanciful confirmation of their charge against the Turks in one of the Grand Signors titles, Khán, an ancient Tatar word, which in Arabic signifies he betrayed, being the preterite of the verb ykhoun, to betray. They pretend that an ancestor of the Sultan having betrayed a fugitive, received the opprobrious appellation of el Sultan Khán, (the Sultan has been treacherous;) and that the title is merely retained by his successors from their ignorance of the Arabic language.

Whenever the power of the Turks in the Hedjaz declines, which it will when the resources of Egypt are no longer directed to that point by so able and so undisturbed a possessor of Egypt as Mohammed Ali, the Arabs will avenge themselves for the submission, light as it is, which they now reluctantly yield to their conquerors; and the reign of the Osmanlis in the Hedjaz will probably terminate in many a scene of bloodshed.

[p.53] ROUTE FROM DJIDDA TO TAYF. [I was unable to take any bearings during this excursion, as the only compass which I possessed, and which had served me throughout my Nubian journey, had become useless, and no opportunity offered of replacing it till December in this year, when I obtained one from a Bombay ship which arrived at Djidda.]

ON the 24th of August, 1814, (11th of Ramadhán, A.H. 1230.) I set out from Djidda, late in the evening, with my guide and twenty camel-drivers of the tribe of Harb, who were carrying money to Mekka for the Pashas treasury. After having left the skirts of the town, where the road passes by mounds of sand, among which is the cemetery of the inhabitants, we travelled across a very barren, sandy plain, ascending slightly towards the east; there are no trees in it, and it is strongly impregnated with salt to about two miles from the town. After three hours march, we entered a hilly country, where a coffee-hut stands near a well named Ragháme. We continued in a broad and winding valley amongst these hills, some sandy and some rocky, and, at the end of five hours and a half, stopped for a short time at the coffee-hut and well called El Beyádhye. Of these wells the water is not good. From thence, in one hour and a half, (seven hours in all,) we reached a similar station called El Feráyne, where we overtook a caravan of pilgrims, who were accompanying goods and provisions destilled for the army: they had quitted Djidda before us in the evening. The coffee-huts are miserable structures, with half-ruined

[p.54] walls, and coverings of brushwood; they afford nothing more than water and coffee. Formerly, it is said, there were twelve coffee-houses on this road, which afforded refreshments of every kind to the passengers between Djidda and the holy city; but as the journey is now made chiefly during the night, and as the Turkish soldiers will pay for nothing unless by compulsion, most of these houses have been abandoned. The few that still remain are kept by some of the Arabs of the Lahyan tribe, (a branch of the Hodheyl Arabs,) and Metarefe, whose families are Bedouins, and live among the hills with their flocks. From Ferayne the valley opens, and the hills, diverging on both sides, increase considerably in height. At the end of eight hours, about sun-rise we reached Bahhra, a cluster of about twenty huts, situated upon a plain nearly four hours in length and two in breadth, extending eastward. At Bahhra there is plenty of water in wells, some sweet and some brackish. In a row of eight or ten shops are sold rice, onions, butter, dates, and coffee-beans, at thirty per cent. in advance of the Djidda market-price. This is what the Arabs call a souk, or market, and similar places occur at every station in this chain of mountains as far as Yemen. Some Turkish cavalry was stationed at Bahhra to guard the road. After travelling for two hours farther over the plain, we halted, at ten hours from Djidda, at Hadda, a souk, similar to the above. Between Bahhra and Hadda, upon an insulated hillock in the plain, are the ruins of an ancient fortification.

August 25th.—The caravan from Djidda to Mekka rests during the day at Bahhra or at Hadda, thus following the common practice of the Hedjaz Arabs, who travel only by night. This is done in winter as well as in summer, not so much for the purpose of avoiding the heat as to afford the camels time for feeding, these animals never eating by night. Such nocturnal marches are most unfavourable to the researches of a traveller, who thus crosses the country at a time when no objects can be observed;

[p.55] and during the day, fatigue and the desire of sleep render every exertion irksome.

We alighted at Hadda, under the shed of a spacious coffee-hut, where I found a motley crew of Turks and Arabs, in their way to or from Mekka, each extended upon his small carpet. Some merchants from Tayf had just brought in a load of grapes; and, although I felt myself still weak from the fever, I could not withstand this temptation, and seized a few of them; for the baskets were no sooner opened than the whole company fell upon them, and soon devoured the entire load; the owner, however, was afterwards paid. It is at Hadda that the inhabitants of Djidda, when making a pilgrimage to Mekka, put on the ihram, or pilgrims cloak. By the Muselman law, every one is obliged to assume it, whatever may be his rank, who enters the sacred territory of Mekka, whether on pilgrimage or for other purposes; and he is enjoined not to lay it aside till after he has visited the temple. Many persons, however, transgress this law; but an o[r]thodox Mekkan never goes to Djidda without carrying his ihram with him, and on his return home, he puts it on at this place. In the afternoon some of the Turkish soldiers who were here put on this garment, with the prescribed ceremonies, which consist in an ablution, or, if the pilgrim choose, an entire purification, an audible avowal of the act of investment, a prayer of two rikats, and the recital of pious exclamations called telbye. This being a time of war, the soldiers continued to wear their arms over the cloak.

In the afternoon, the coffee-house keeper dressed the provisions I had brought, as well as those belonging to many others of the company. There was great disorder in the place, and nobody could attempt to sleep. Soon after our arrival, a troop of soldiers passed, and pitched their tents a little farther on the plain; they then entered the coffee-huts, and took away all the sweet water, which had been procured from a well about half-an-hour distant, and kept at Hadda in large jars. The huts of the few miserable

[p.56] inhabitants, thus exposed to all the casualties attending the continual passage of troops, are formed with brushwood, in the shape of a flattened cone, and they receive light only through the entrance; here the whole family lives huddled together in one apartment. The numerous coffee-huts are spacious sheds, supported by poles, with the coffee- waiters hearth placed in one corner. They are infested by great numbers of rats, bolder than any I ever saw.

We left Hadda about five oclock in the evening. The road continuing over the plain, the soil is sandy, in some parts mixed with clay, and might, I think, be easily cultivated by digging wells. At one hour from Hadda, we saw on our left, in the plain, some date-trees: here, as I understood, flows a small rivulet, which in former times irrigated some fields. The trees are at present neglected. We now left the plain, and diverging a little south-ward from our easterly course, again entered a hilly country, and reached, at two hours from Hadda, another coffee-hut, called Shemeysa. Behind it is the Djebel Shemeysa, or mountain of Shemeysa, from which, according to the historians of Mekka, was extracted the marble of many columns in the mosque of that holy city. In the mountain, near the hut, is a well. From Shemeysa we rode in a broad valley overspread with deep sands, and containing some thorny trees. At four hours from Hadda, we passed Kahwet Salem, or Salems coffee-shop, and a well; there we met a caravan coming from Mekka. The mountains nearly close at this place, leaving only a narrow straight valley, crossed at intervals by several other valleys. We then proceeded as far as Hadjalye, a coffee-house, seven hours distant from Hadda, with a large well near it, which supplies the camel-drivers of the Syrian pilgrim caravan, on the way to and from Mekka.

Not having enjoyed a moments sleep since we quitted Djidda, I lay down on the sands, and slept till day-break, while my companions pursued their road to Mekka. My guide only remained with me;

[p.57] but his fears for the safety of his camels would not allow him to close his eyes. The route from Djidda to Mekka is always frequented by suspicious characters; and as every body travels by night, stragglers are easily plundered. Near Hadjalye, are the ruins of an ancient village, built with stone; and in the Wady are traces of former cultivation.

August 26th.—At half an hour from Hadjalye, we came to a small date plantation, surrounded by a wall. From hence the road to Mekka lies to the right, and enters the town by the quarter called Djerouel. My guide had orders to conduct me by a by-road to Tayf, which passes in the north of Mekka; it branches off at Hadda, crosses the road from Mekka to Wady Fatmé, and joins the great road from Mekka to Tayf, beyond Wady Muna. Just before we left Hadda, my guide, who knew nothing further respecting me than that I had business with the Pasha at Tayf, that I performed all the outward observances of a Moslem pilgrim, and that I had been liberal to him before our departure, asked me the reason of his having been ordered to take me by the northern road. I replied, that it was probably thought shorter than the other. That is a mistake, he replied; the Mekka road is quite as short, and much safer; and if you have no objection, we will proceed by it. This was just what I wished, though I had taken care not to betray any anxiety on the subject; and we accordingly followed the great road, in company with the other travellers. Instead, however, of taking me the usual way, which would have carried me through the whole length of the town, he, having no curiosity to gratify, conducted me, without my being aware of it, by a short cut, and thus deprived me of an opportunity of seeing Mekka fully at this time.

From the date plantation beyond Hadjalye, we reached in half an hour the plain where the Syrian pilgrim-caravan usually encamps, and which has taken the name of Sheikh Mahmoud, from the tomb of a saint so called, built in the midst of it. It is encompassed

[p.58] by low mountains; is from two to three miles in length, and one in breadth; and is separated from the valley of Mekka by a narrow chain of hills, over which a road has been cut through the rocks, with much labour. By this road we ascended, and on the summit of the hill passed two watch-towers, built on each side of the road by the Sherif Ghaleb. As we descended on the other side, where the road is paved, the view of Mekka opened upon us; and at an hour and a half from Hadjalye, we entered the eastern quarter of the town, near the Sherifs palace (marked 50 in the plan). The great body of the town lay on our right, hidden, in part, by the windings of the valley. As I knew that I should return to Mekka, I did not press my guide to allow me a full view of the city, since we should, for that purpose, have been obliged to ride back about two miles in a contrary direction. I repressed my curiosity, therefore, and followed him, reciting those ejaculations which are customary on entering the holy city.

I travelled several times afterwards between Mekka and Djidda, in both directions. The caravans rate of march is here very slow, scarcely exceeding two miles an hour. I have ridden from Mekka to Djidda upon an ass in thirteen hours. The distance may, perhaps, be fairly estimated at sixteen or seventeen hours walk, or about fifty-five miles; the direction a trifle to the northward of east.

On turning to our left, we passed, a little farther on, the great barracks of the Sherif; and in the suburbs called El Moabede, we alighted at the house of an Arab, with whom my guide happened to be acquainted. It was now the fast of Ramadhán; but travellers are exempted by law from observing it. The woman of the house, whose husband was absent, prepared us a breakfast, for which we paid her, and remained in the house till after mid-day; we then remounted our camels, and turning by the Sherifs garden-house, situated at the eastern extremity of the suburbs, we took the high road to Wady Muna. Winding valleys, of greater or less breadth,

[p.59] covered with sands, and almost wholly destitute of vegetation, with hills on both sides, equally barren, lead to Muna. At half an hour from the garden-house of the Sherif, the country opens a little to the left. There the canal passes which supplies Mekka with sweet water; and we saw, about two miles distant, at the extremity of the opening, a conical mountain, called Djebel el Nour, considered holy by the pilgrims, as will be subsequently mentioned. We passed on our right, in an hour and a half, a large tank, built of stones. This, in the time of the Hadj, is filled with water from the canal, which passes close by it. I believe this to be the place called Sebyl-es-Sett. One of the side- valleys between Mekka and Muna is called Wady Mohsab. El Fasy, the historian of Mekka, says that there were formerly sixteen wells between that city and Muna. At the end of two hours, after having ascended a little by a paved causeway formed across the valley, which is about forty yards in breadth, we entered Wady Muna. Near the causeway we saw a small field, irrigated by means of a brackish well, where a few miserable Bedouins raised onions and leeks for the market at Mekka. I shall give hereafter a more detailed description of Wady Muna, where the Hadj remains three days after its return from Arafat.

We continued our route among the ruined houses of Muna, passed the short columns, at which the pilgrims throw stones, then the Sherifs palace, and issued into the open country, which continues thence towards Mezdelife, distant three hours and three quarters from Mekka. This name is given to a small mosque, now almost in ruins, close to which is a tank or reservoir of water. Here a sermon is preached from a high platform in front of the mosque, to the pilgrims after their return from Arafat. El Fasy, the historian, says that this mosque was built in A.H. 759. It is often called Moshár el Haram; but, according to the same author, this name belongs to a small hill at the

[p.60] extremity of the valley of Mezdelife, which bears also the appellation of El Kazeh. From Mezdelife two roads lead to Arafat; the one on the left along the plain or valley called Dhob; the other leads straight across the mountain, and joins the former near the Aalameyn. We proceeded along the great road in the valley. At four hours and a quarter the mountains again close, and a narrow pass called El Mazomeyn or El Medyk leads across them for half an hour, after which the view opens upon the plain of Arafat. At the end of four hours and three quarters, we passed, in this plain, a tank called Bir Basan, constructed of stone, with a small chapel adjoining. Here the country opens widely to the north and south. Eastward, the mountains of Tayf are seen for the first time in their full height. [On my return from Tayf to Mekka, when I was completely my own master, I drew up a much more detailed and accurate description of the road than this given here; but I accidentally lost the papers containing it; the present, therefore, is written from memory, and the few short notes which I hastily made during the route to Tayf.] At five hours we reached El Aalameyn, two stone structures standing one on each side of the road, from eighty to one hundred paces from each other, and between them the pilgrims must pass in going, and more particularly in returning from Arafat. They are of coarse masonry, plaistered white, and the annexed outline represents their form.[Not included]

Fasy says that there were formerly three, that they were built in A.H. 605, and that one had fallen. Of those now remaining one is entire, the other half ruined. At five hours and a quarter we passed to our right a large insulated mosque in a state of decay, called Djama Nimre, or Djama Ibrahim, built as it now stands by the Sultan Kail, Bey of Egypt. The low mountain of

[p.61] Arafat was now to our left at the extremity of the plain, about two miles distant. We proceeded, without stopping, over the plain, which is covered with shrubs of considerable height, and low acacia trees: from these it is prohibited to take even the smallest branch, this being holy ground. On attaining the eastern limits of the plain, we reached, at five hours and three quarters, the canal of Mekka, issuing from the mountainous ground. Near it is a small tank, and in its vicinity a cluster of Arab huts similar to those at Hadda, and bearing the name of Kahwet Arafat, or the coffee-house of Arafat. They are inhabited chiefly by Beni Koreysh, who cultivate vegetables in a valley extending from hence towards the south. We rested here some hours; a caravan from Tayf, composed of mules and asses, arrived at the same time.

From Kahwet Arafat, the road becomes rocky, and the mountains nearly close, and are intersected by valleys which cross the road in every direction. Acacia-trees grow here in great abundance. At seven hours and a half we again entered upon sandy ground, in a valley called Wady Noman, where, towards the south, are some wells, and a few plantations cultivated by the Arab tribes of Kebákeb and Ryshye. At eight hours and a half we passed an encampment of the Bedouin tribe of Hodheyl, where dogs attacked our camels so fiercely that I had much difficulty, though mounted, to defend myself from their teeth. At eight hours and three quarters we passed a cluster of huts and coffee-shops, called shedad, with wells of very good water. At nine hours and a half, it being a cloudy and extremely dark night, we lost our way in following the windings of a side valley, and being unable to regain the right road, we lay down on the sand and slept till day-break.

August 27th.—We found ourselves close to the road, and proceeding, we began to ascend, in half an hour, the great chain of mountains. From Djjdda to this place, our route, though generally between hills and mountains, had been constantly over flat

[p.62] ground, in valleys, with an ascent almost imperceptible to the traveller, and the existence of which became visible only in viewing the country from the summit of the mountains now before us. The lower hills are seldom higher than four or five hundred feet. The lowest range above Djidda is calcareous; but its rocks soon change into gneiss, and a species of granite, with schorl in the place of feldspath, accompanied by predominant masses of quartz, and some mica. This rock continues along the road, with few variations, as far as the vicinity of Djebel Nour, to the eastward of Mekka, where granite begins. I learned at Mekka, that, south of Hadda, some hours distant, a mountain yields fine marble, which served for the pavement of the great mosque. The mountains forming the valley of Muna are composed of this red and grey granite, and continue so from thence to this higher chain, mixed in a few places with strata of grunstein. The lower chain of the high ridge which we were now ascending, again, consists of grey granite; towards the middle I found it of all colours, mixed with strata of grunstein, trappe, and porphyry schistus, the latter much decayed: at the summit of the ridge, red granite occurred again; its surface had been completely blackened by the suns rays.

We ascended by a road, still bad, although Mohammed Ali Pasha had recently caused it to be repaired. The country around was very wild, being covered with large blocks of loose stones, carried down by the winter torrents, and interspersed with a few acacia and nebek trees. At one hour we came to a building of loose stones, called Kaber Er-rafyk, i.e. the Companions tomb. The following tradition concerning it was related by my guide. In the last century, a Bedouin returning from the Hadj was joined, beyond the gates of Mekka, by a traveller going the same road with himself; they reached this spot in company, when one of them felt himself so ill, that he was unable to proceed farther, and on the following day the small-pox broke out on his body. In this situation his companion

[p.63] would not abandon him. He built two huts with boughs of acacia- trees, one for his friend, the other for himself; and continued to nurse him, and solicit alms for his benefit from passing travellers, until he recovered. But in turn, he himself became ill of the same disease, and was nursed by his convalescent companion with equal kindness, though not with equal success; for he died, and was interred by his friend on this spot, where his tomb serves as a monument of Bedouin generosity, and inculcates benevolence even towards the casual companions of the road.

At one hour and a half, still ascending, we reached some huts built among the rocks, near a copious spring; they are named Kahwet Kora, from the mountains which collectively bear the name of Djebel Kora. I found here a Turkish soldier, charged with the transport of provisions for the Pashas army over the mountain. This being the shortest road from Mekka to Tayf, caravans are continually passing. The camel-loads are deposited at this place, and then forwarded to the summit of the mountain on mules and asses, of which about two hundred are kept here. On the mountain camels are prepared for carrying the loads to Tayf. The more northern road to Tayf, of which I shall speak hereafter, is passable for camels all the way; but it is by one day longer than this.

The huts of Kora are constructed between the rocks, on the slope of the mountain, where there is scarcely any level surface. The inhabitants are Hodheyl Bedouins. In two or three huts nothing could be procured but coffee and water. The Turkish soldier had lately incurred the Pashas displeasure, having stolen and sold the camel of a Hodheyl woman, who had gone to lay her complaint before his master, the Pasha, at Tayf. The soldier treated me with much civility, when he learned that I was going to visit the Pasha, and begged me to intercede in his behalf; this, however, I declined to do, telling him that I was myself a solicitor for my own concerns. We remained till mid-day at this

[p.64] pleasant spot, from whence there is a fine prospect over the lower country. A large nebek-tree, near the spring which drizzles down the rocks, afforded me shade, and a delicious cool breeze allayed the sultry heat which we had endured ever since our departure from Djidda. Leaving Kora, we found the road very steep, and, although it had lately been repaired, so bad, that a mounted traveller could hardly hope to reach the summit without alighting. Steps had been cut in several places, and the ascent rendered less steep, by conducting it, in many windings, to the top: half a dozen spacious resting-places had also been formed on the side of the mountain, where the caravans take breath, there being no where so much as eight square feet of level ground. The same spring, which comes from near the top, is crossed several times. I met many of the Hodheyl Bedouins, with their families and flocks of sheep, near the road. One of them gave me some milk, but would not take any money in return; the sale of milk being considered by these Bedouins as a scandal, though they might derive great profits from it at Mekka, where one pound of milk is worth two piastres. I conversed freely with the men, and with the wife of one of them. They seemed a race of hardy mountaineers, and, although evidently poor, have a more robust and fleshy appearance than the northern Bedouins, which I ascribe chiefly to the healthiness of the climate, and the excellence of the water. The Beni Hodheyl, famous in the ancient history of Arabia, were nominally subject to the Sherif of Mekka, in whose territory they live; but they were in fact quite independent, and often at war with him.

We were full two hours in ascending from the coffee-huts to the summit of the mountain, from whence we enjoyed a beautiful prospect over the low country. We discerned Wady Muna, but not Mekka; and as far as the eye could reach, winding chains of hills appeared upon a flat surface, towards the north and south, with narrow stripes of white sand between them, without the slightest verdure. Close to our right rose a peak of the mountain

[p.65] Kora, called Nakeb el Ahmar, from four to five hundred feet higher than the place where we stood, and appearing to overtop all the neighbouring chain. Towards the north, the mountain, about thirty miles distant, seemed to decrease considerably in height; but southward it continues of the same height. After half an hours ride from the summit, we came to a small village called Ras el Kora. Finding myself much fatigued, I insisted upon sleeping here, with which my guide reluctantly complied, as he had received orders to travel expeditiously.

August 28th.—The village and neighbourhood of Ras el Kora is the most beautiful spot in the Hedjaz, and more picturesque and delightful than any place I had seen since my departure from Lebanon, in Syria. The top of Djebel Kora is flat, but large masses of granite lie scattered over it, the surface of which, like that of the granite rocks near the second cataract of the Nile, is blackened by the sun. Several small rivulets descend from this peak, and irrigate the plain, which is covered with verdant fields and large shady trees on the side of the granite rocks. To those who have only known the dreary and scorching sands of the lower country of the Hedjaz, this scene is as surprising as the keen air which blows here is refreshing. Many of the fruit-trees of Europe are found here,—figs, apricots, peaches; apples, the Egyptian sycamore, almonds, pomegranates; but particularly vines, the produce of which is of the best quality. There are no palm-trees here, and only a few nebek-trees. The fields produce wheat, barley, and onions; but the soil being stony, these do not succeed so well as the fruits. Every beled, as they here call the fields, is enclosed by a low wall, and is the property of a Hodheyl Bedouin. When Othman el Medhayfe took Tayf from the Sherif, this place was ruined, the fields were destroyed, and many of the walls had not yet been rebuilt.

After having passed through this delightful district, for about half an hour, just as the sun was rising, when every leaf and blade

[p.66] of grass was covered with a balmy dew, and every tree and shrub diffused a fragrance as delicious to the smell as was the landscape to the eye, I halted near the largest of the rivulets, which, although not more than two paces across, nourishes upon its banks a green Alpine turf, such as the mighty Nile, with all its luxuriance, can never produce in Egypt. Some of the Arabs brought us almonds and raisins, for which we gave them biscuits; but although the grapes were ripe, we could not obtain any, as they are generally purchased while on the vines by the merchants of Tayf, who export them to Mekka, and keep them closely watched by their own people till they are gathered. Here a Turkish soldier, complimented with the title of Aga, was stationed under a tent, to forward the provisions coming from the lower station to Tayf. I observed with some astonishment, that not a single pleasure-house was built on this high platform. Formerly, the Mekka merchants had their country-seats at Tayf, which stand in a situation as desert and melancholy, as this is cheerful and luxuriant; but none of them ever thought of building a cottage here; a new proof of the opinion which I have long entertained, that orientals, especially the Arabs, are much less sensible of the beauties of nature than Europeans. The water of Ras el Kora is celebrated throughout the Hedjaz for its excellence. While Mohammed Ali remained at Mekka and at Djidda, he received a regular supply of Nile water for drinking, sent from Egypt, by every fleet, in large tin vessels; but on passing this place, he found its water deserving of being substituted for the other: a camel comes here daily from Tayf for a load of it.

The houses of the Hodheyl, to whom these plantations belong, are scattered over the fields in clusters of four or five together. They are small, built of stones and mud, but with more care than might be expected from the rude hands of the occupants. Every dwelling comprises three or four rooms, each of which being separated from the others by a narrow open space, forms, as it were,

[p.67] a small detached cottage. These apartments receive no light but from the entrance; they are very neat and clean, and contain Bedouin furniture, some good carpets, woollen and leathern sacks, a few wooden bowls, earthen coffee-pots, and a matchlock, of which great care is taken, it being generally kept in a leathern case. At night I reposed upon a large well-tanned cow-skin: the covering was formed of a number of small sheep-skins neatly sewed together, similar to those used in Nubia. The Hodheyl told me, that before the Wahabys came, and obliged them to pay tribute for their fields, they knew no land-tax, but, on the contrary, received yearly presents from the sherifs, and from all the Mekkawys who passed this way to Tayf. Ras el Kora extends from east to west about two and a half or three miles, and is about a mile in breadth. According to the statements of the Arabs, many spots towards the south, where Bedouin tribes, like the Hodheyl, cultivate the soil in detached parts of the mountain, are equally fertile and beautiful as that which we saw in the chain above mentioned.

We left the Ras, which will be remembered by me as long as I am sensible to the charms of romantic scenery, and rode for about one hour over uneven barren ground, with slight ascents and descents, till we came to a steep declivity, to walk down which occupied us half an hour, and double that time would be necessary for ascending it. The rock is entirely composed of sand-stone. From the summit of the declivity just mentioned, Tayf is seen in the distance. At half an hour from the foot of the mountain, we entered a fertile valley, called Wady Mohram, extending from N.W. to S.E. Like the upper district, it is full of fruit-trees; but the few cultivated fields are watered from wells, and not by running streams. A village, which the Wahabys had almost wholly ruined, stands on the slope, with a small tower constructed by the inhabitants to secure the produce of their fields against the invasion of enemies.

[p.68] Here begins the territory of Tayf, and of the Arab tribe of Thekyf, who, in former times, were often at war with their neighbours the Hodheyl. The Wady is denominated Mohram, from the circumstance, that here the pilgrims and visitors going from the eastward to Mekka, invest themselves with the ihram before noticed. There is a small ruined stone tank close by the road. The caravan of the Yemen pilgrims, called Hadj el Kebsy, whose route lies along these mountains, used always to observe the ceremony here, and the tank was then filled with water for ablution. The husbandmen of Mohram draw the water from their wells in leathern buckets suspended from one end of an iron chain, passed round a pulley, and to the other end they yoke a cow, which, for want of a wheel, walks to a sufficient distance from the well to draw up the bucket, when she is led back to resume the same course. The cows I saw here, like all those of the Hedjaz, are small, but of a stout, bony make: they have generally only short stumps of horns, and a hump on the back, just over the shoulder, about five inches in height and six in length, much resembling in this respect the cows which I saw on the borders of the Nile in Nubia. According to the natives, the whole chain of mountains from hence southward, as far as the country where the coffee-plantations begin, is intersected by similar cultivated valleys at some distance from each other, the intermediate space consisting chiefly of barren rocky soil.

From Wady Mohram we again crossed uneven, mountainous ground, where I found sand-stone and silex. Acacia trees are seen in several sandy valleys, branching out from the road. At two hours and a half from Wady Mohram we ascended, and at the top of the hill saw Tayf lying before us. We reached it in three hours and a half from Wady Mohram, after having crossed the barren sandy plain which separates it from the surrounding hills. The rate of our march from Mekka, when we were quite alone upon our dromedaries, and able to accelerate their pace at pleasure, was not

[p.69] less than three miles, and a quarter per hour. I therefore calculate from Mekka to the foot of Djebel Kora, about thirty-two miles; to its top, ten miles; and from thence to Tayf, thirty miles, making in the whole seventy-two miles. The bearing of the road from Arafat to Tayf is about twelve or fifteen degrees of the compass, to the southward of that from Mekka to Arafat; but having had no compass with me, I cannot give the bearing with perfect accuracy.

[p.70] RESIDENCE AT TAYF.

I ARRIVED at Tayf about mid-day, and alighted at the house of Bosari, the Pashas physician, with whom I had been well acquainted at Cairo. As it was now the fast of Ramadhan, during which the Turkish grandees always sleep in the day-time, the Pasha could not be informed of my arrival till after sun-set. In the mean while, Bosari, after the usual Levantine assurances of his entire devotion to my interests, and of the sincerity of his friendship, asked me what were my views in coming to the Hedjaz. I answered, to visit Mekka and Medina, and then to return to Cairo. Of my intention respecting Egypt he seemed doubtful, begged me to be candid with him as with a friend, and to declare the truth, as he confessed that he suspected I was going to the East Indies. This I positively denied; and in the course of our conversation, he hinted that if I really meant to return to Egypt, I had better remain at head- quarters with them, till the Pasha himself should proceed to Cairo. Nothing was said about money, although Bosari was ignorant that my pecuniary wants had been relieved at Djidda.

In the evening Bosari went privately to the Pasha at his womens residence, where he only received visits from friends or very intimate acquaintances. In half an hour he returned, and told me that the Pasha wished to see me rather late that evening in his public room. He added, that he found seated with the Pasha

[p.071] the Kadhy of Mekka, who was then at Tayf for his health; and that the former, when he heard of my desire to visit the holy cities, observed jocosely, it is not the beard [I wore a beard at this time, as I did at Cairo, when the Pasha saw me.] alone which proves a man to be a true Moslem; but turning towards the Kadhy, he said, you are a better judge in such matters than I am. The Kadhy then observed that, as none but a Moslem could be permitted to see the holy cities, a circumstance of which he could not possibly suppose me ignorant, he did not believe that I would declare myself to be one, unless I really was. When I learnt these particulars, I told Bosari that he might return alone to the Pasha; that my feelings had already been much hurt by the orders given to my guide not to carry me through Mekka; and that I certainly should not go to the Pashas public audience, if he would not receive me as a Turk.

Bosari was alarmed at this declaration, and in vain endeavoured to dissuade me from such a course, telling me that he had orders to conduct me to the Pasha, which he could not disobey. I however adhered firmly to what I had said, and he reluctantly went back to Mohammed Aly, whom he found alone, the Kadhy having left him. When Bosari delivered his message, the Pasha smiled, and answered that I was welcome, whether Turk or not. About eight oclock in the evening I repaired to the castle, a miserable, half-ruined habitation of Sherif Ghaleb, dressed in the new suit which I had received at Djidda by the Pashas command. I found his highness seated in a large saloon, with the Kadhy on one hand, and Hassan Pasha, the chief of the Arnaut soldiers, on the other; thirty or forty of his principal officers formed a half-circle about the sofa on which they sat; and a number of Bedouin sheikhs were squatted in the midst of the semicircle. I went up to the Pasha, gave him the Salam Aleykum, and kissed his hand. He made a sign for me to sit down by the side of the

[p.72] Kadhy, then addressed me very politely, inquired after my health, and if there was any news from the Mamelouks in the Black country which I had visited; but said nothing whatever on the subject most interesting to me. Amyn Effendi, his Arabic dragoman, interpreted between us, as I do not speak Turkish, and the Pasha speaks Arabic very imperfectly. In about five minutes he renewed the business with the Bedouins, which I had interrupted. When this was terminated, and Hassan Pasha had left the room, every body was ordered to withdraw, except the Kadhy, Bosari, and myself. I expected now to be put to the proof, and I was fully prepared for it; but not a word was mentioned of my personal affairs, nor did Mohammed Aly, in any of our subsequent conversations, ever enter further into them than to hint that he was persuaded I was on my way to the East Indies. As soon as we were alone, the Pasha introduced the subject of politics. He had just received information of the entrance of the allies into Paris, and the departure of Bonaparte for Elba; and several Malta gazettes, giving the details of these occurrences, had been sent to him from Cairo. He seemed deeply interested in these important events, chiefly because he laboured under the impression that, after Bonapartes downfall, England would probably seek for an augmentation of power in the Mediterranean, and consequently invade Egypt.

After remaining for two or three hours with the Pasha in private conversation, either speaking Arabic to him, through the medium of the Kadhy, who, though a native of Constantinople, knew that language perfectly, or Italian, through Bosari, who was an Armenian, but had acquired a smattering of that tongue at Cairo, I took my leave, and the Pasha said that he expected me again on the morrow at the same hour.

August 29th.—I paid a visit to the Kadhy before sun-set, and found him with his companion and secretary, a learned man of Constantinople. The Kadhy Sádik Effendi was a true eastern

[p.73] courtier, of very engaging manners and address, possessing all that suavity of expression for which the well-bred natives of Stamboul are so distinguished. After we had interchanged a few complimentary phrases, I mentioned my astonishment on finding that the Pasha had expressed any doubts of my being a true Moslem, after I had now been a proselyte to that faith for so many years. He replied that Mohammed Aly had allowed that he (the Kadhy) was the best judge in such matters; and added, that he hoped we should become better acquainted with each other. He then began to question me about my Nubian travels. In the course of conversation literary subjects were introduced: he asked me what Arabic hooks I had read, and what commentaries on the Koran and on the law; and he probably found me better acquainted, with the titles, at least, of such works than he had expected, for we did not enter deeply into the subject. While we were thus conversing, the call to evening prayers announced the termination of this days fast. I supped with the Kadhy, and afterwards performed the evening prayers in his company, when I took great care to chaunt as long a chapter of the Koran as my memory furnished at the moment; after which we both went to the Pasha, who again sat up a part of the night in private conversation with me, chiefly on political affairs, without ever introducing the subject of my private business.

After another interview, I went every evening, first to the Kadhy, and then to the Pasha; but, notwithstanding a polite reception at the castle, I could perceive that my actions were closely watched. Bosari had asked me if I kept a journal; but I answered that the Hedjaz was not like Egypt, full of antiquities, and that in these barren mountains I saw nothing worthy of notice. I was never allowed to be alone for a moment, and I had reason to suspect that Bosari, with all his assurances of friendship, was nothing better than a spy. To remain at Tayf for an indeterminate period, in the situation I now found myself, was little

[p.74] desirable; yet I could not guess the Pashas intentions with respect to me. I was evidently considered in no other light than as a spy sent to this country by the English government, to ascertain its present state, and report upon it in the East Indies. This, I presume, was the Pashas own opinion: he knew me as an Englishman, a name which I assumed during my travels (I hope without any discredit to that country), whenever it seemed necessary to appear as an European; because at that time none but the subjects of England and France enjoyed in the East any real security: they were considered as too well protected, both by their governments at home and their ministers at Constantinople, to be trifled with by provincial governors. The Pasha, moreover, supposed me to be a man of some rank, for every Englishman travelling in the East is styled My lord; and he was the more convinced of this by a certain air of dignity which it was necessary for me to assume in a Turkish court, where modesty of behaviour and affability are quite out of place. Afraid as he then was of Great Britain, he probably thought it imprudent to treat me ill, though he did nothing whatever to forward my projects. As far as he knew, I could have only the five hundred piastres which he had ordered for me at Djidda, and which were not sufficient to pay my expenses for any length of time in the Hedjaz. Nothing was said to me either by him or Bosari of taking my bill upon Cairo, as I had requested him to do; but this favour I did not again solicit, having money enough for the present, and expecting a fresh supply from Egypt.

To remain for any length of time at Tayf, in a sort of polite imprisonment, was little to my taste; yet I could not press my departure without increasing his suspicions. This was manifest after my first interview with the Pasha and the Kadhy, and I knew that the reports of Bosari might considerably influence the mind of Mohammed. Under these circumstances, I thought the best course was to make Bosari tired of me, and thus induce him

[p.75] involuntarily to forward my views. I therefore began to act at his house with all the petulance of an Osmanly. It being the Ramadhan, I fasted during the day, and at night demanded a supper apart; early on the following morning I called for an abundant breakfast, before the fast recommenced. I appropriated to myself the best room which his small house afforded; and his servants were kept in constant attendance upon me. Eastern hospitality forbids all resentment for such behaviour; I was, besides, a great man, and on a visit to the Pasha. In my conversations with Bosari, I assured him that I felt myself most comfortably situated at Tayf, and that its climate agreed perfectly with my health; and I betrayed no desire of quitting the place for the present. To maintain a person in my character for any length of time at Tayf, where provisions of all kinds were much dearer than in London, was a matter of no small moment; and a petulant guest is everywhere disagreeable. The design, I believe, succeeded perfectly; and Bosari endeavoured to persuade the Pasha that I was a harmless being, in order that I might be the sooner dismissed.

I had been six days at Tayf, but seldom went out, except to the castle in the evening, when Bosari asked whether my business with the Pasha was likely to prevent me much longer from pursuing my travels, and visiting Mekka. I replied that I had no business with the Pasha, though I had come to Tayf at his desire; but that my situation was very agreeable to me, possessing so warm and generous a friend as he, my host. The next day he renewed the subject, and remarked that it must be tiresome to live entirely among soldiers, without any comforts or amusements, unacquainted besides, as I was, with the Turkish language. I assented to this; but added, that being ignorant of the Pashas wishes, I could determine on nothing. This brought him to the point I wished. This being the case, said he, I will, if you like, speak to his Highness on the subject. He did so in the evening, before I went to the castle; and the Pasha told me, in the course of conversation,

[p.76] that as he understood I wished to pass the last days of Ramadhan at Mekka, (a suggestion originating with Bosari,) I had better join the party of the Kadhy, who was going there to the feast, and who would be very glad of my company. This was precisely such a circumstance as I wished for. The departure of the Kadhy was fixed for the 7th of September, and I hired two asses, the usual mode of conveyance in this country, in order to follow him.

As it was my intention to proceed afterwards to Medina, where Tousoun Pasha, the son of Mohammed Aly, was governor, I begged Bosari to ask the Pasha for a firman or passport, authorising me to travel through all the Hedjaz, together with a letter of recommendation to his son. In reply, Bosari told me that the Pasha did not like to interfere personally in my travels; that I might act as I pleased, on my own responsibility; and that my knowledge of the language rendered a passport unnecessary. This was equivalent to telling me, Do what you please; I shall neither obstruct nor facilitate your projects, which, indeed, was as much, at present, as I could well expect or desire.

On the 6th of September I took my leave of the Pasha, who told me at parting, that if ever my travels should carry me to India, I might assure the English people there that he was much attached to the interests of the India trade. Early on the 7th the Kadhy sent me word that he should not set out till evening, would travel during the night, and hoped to meet me at Djebel Kora, midway to Mekka. I therefore left Tayf alone, as I had entered it, after a residence of ten days. At parting, Bosari assured me of his inviolable attachment to my interest; and I blessed my good stars, when I left the precincts of the town, and the residence of a Turkish court, in which I found it more difficult to avoid danger, than among the wild Bedouins of Nubia.

During my stay at Tayf, I had five or six interviews with the

[p.77] Pasha; and the following extracts from my journal will show the general result of what passed between us on those different occasions:—

Q. Sheikh Ibrahim, I hope you are well. A. Perfectly well, and most happy to have the honour of seeing you again. Q. You have travelled much since I saw you at Cairo. How far did you advance into the negro country?

To this question I replied, by giving a short account of my journey in Nubia.

Q. Tell me, how are the Mamelouks at Dongola?

I related what the reader will find in my Nubian Travels.

Q. I understand that you treated with two of the Mamelouk Beys at Ibrim; was it so?

The word treated (if the dragoman rightly translated the Turkish word), startled me very much; for the Pasha, while he was in Egypt, had heard that, on my journey towards Dongola, I had met two Mamelouk Beys at Derr; and as he still suspected that the English secretly favoured the Mamelouk interest, he probably thought that I had been the bearer of some message to them from government. I therefore assured him that my meeting with the two Beys was quite accidental that the unpleasant reception which I experienced at Mahass was on their account; and that I entertained fears of their designs against my life. With this explanation the Pasha seemed satisfied.

Q. Let us only settle matters here with the Wahabys, and I shall soon be able to get rid of the Mamelouks. How many soldiers do you think are necessary for subduing the country as far as Senaar? A. Five hundred men, good troops, might reach that point, but could not keep possession of the country; and the expenses would scarcely be repaid by the booty. Q. What do those countries afford?

[p.78] A. Camels and slaves; and, towards Senaar, gold, brought from Abyssinia; but all this is the property of individuals. The chiefs or kings in those countries do not possess any riches. Q. In what state are the roads from Egypt to Senaar? A. I described the road between Asouan and Shendy, and from Souakin to the same place. Q. How did you pass your time among the Blacks? A. I related some laughable stories, with which he seemed greatly amused. Q. And now, Sheikh Ibrahim, where do you mean to go? A. I wish to perform the Hadj, return to Cairo, and then proceed to visit Persia.—(I did not think it advisable to mention my design of returning into the interior of Africa.) Q. May God render the way smooth before you! but I think it folly and madness to travel so much. What, let me ask, is the result of your last journey? A. Mens lives are predestined; we all obey our fate. For myself, I enjoy great pleasure in exploring new and unknown countries, and becoming acquainted with different races of people. I am induced to undertake journies by the private satisfaction that travelling affords, and I care little about personal fatigue. Q. Have you heard of the news from Europe? A. Only some vague reports at Djidda.

The Pasha then gave me an account of the events which ended in Bonapartes banishment to Elba, after the entrance of the allies into Paris. Bonaparte, he said, behaved like a coward; he ought to have sought for death, rather than expose himself in a cage to the laughter of the universe. The Europeans, he said, are as treacherous as the Osmanlys; all Bonapartes confidants abandoned him—all his generals, who owed to him their fortunes.

He was eager in his inquiries about the political relations between Great Britain and Russia, and whether it was not likely that war might break out between them, on account of the hostile

[p.79] intentions of the latter towards the Porte. (On this point he had received false intelligence.) His only fear seemed to be that the English army, which had been employed in the south of France, and in Spain, would now be at liberty to invade Egypt. The great fish swallow the small, he said; and Egypt is necessary to England, in supplying corn to Malta and Gibraltar. I reasoned with him in vain on this subject, and perceived that the dragoman did not always interpret my answers correctly, from the fear of contradicting the well-known opinions of his master. These opinions, indeed, were deeply rooted, and had been fostered by the French mission in Egypt. I am the friend of the English, he continued. (This addressed by a Turk to a Christian, means only that he fears him, or wants his money.) But to tell you the truth, among great men we see many compliments, and very little sincerity. My hope is, that they will not fall upon Egypt during my stay in the Hedjaz; if I am there myself, I shall at least have the satisfaction of fighting personally for my dominions. Of the Sultan I am not afraid, (this he repeatedly asserted, but I much doubt his sincerity,) and I shall know how to outwit him in all his measures. An army from Syria can never attack Egypt by land in very large bodies, from the want of camels; and separate corps are easily destroyed as soon as they have passed the desert.

I took the liberty of telling him that he was like a young man in possession of a beautiful girl; although sure of her affection, he would always be jealous of every stranger. You say well, he replied. I certainly love Egypt with all the ardour of a lover; and if I had ten thousand souls, I would willingly sacrifice them for its possession.

He asked me in what state I had found Upper Egypt; and whether his son Ibrahim Pasha (the governor) was liked there. I replied, in the language of truth, that all the chiefs of villages hated him (for he had compelled them to abandon their despotic treatment of their fellow- peasants); but that the peasants themselves

[p.80] were much attached to him. (The fact is, that instead of being oppressed, as formerly, by the Mamelouk Beys and Kashefs, as well as by their own Sheikhs, they have at present only one tyrant, the Pasha himself, who keeps his governors of districts in perfect order.)

Mohammed Aly wished to know my opinion respecting the number of troops necessary for defending Egypt against a foreign army. I answered, that I knew nothing of war, but from what I had read in books. No, no; he exclaimed, you travellers always have your eyes open, and you inquire after every thing. He persisted in his question; and being thus forced to reply, I said that twenty-five thousand chosen troops would probably be able to resist any attack. I have now thirty-three thousand, said he—a false assertion, for I am quite certain that he had at that time not more than sixteen thousand men, dispersed over Egypt and the Hedjaz.

He would next explain to me the Nizam Djedyd, or new system of discipline and military regulations He said it was only the avidity of the chiefs, and not the dislike of the common sol­diers, that obstructed the institution of a well-organised army in Turkey, and opposed the mustering necessary to prevent the officers from imposing on the public treasury. But I shall make a regular corps of negro soldiers, he added. This his predecessor Khurshid Pasha had attempted, but with little success. The subject of the Nizam Djedyd was resumed as soon as Mohammed Aly returned to Egypt from this expedition; but the revolt of his soldiers, who plundered his own capital, obliged him to abandon the undertaking, which had been badly planned. In the defence of Egypt, he said, he should principally use his cavalry and horse­artillery; the former should destroy all the provisions in advance of the enemy, as the Russians had lately done; and the latter would harass them on all sides, without ever attempting to make a stand.

[p.81] During my stay at Tayf, letters arrived from Constantinople, across the Desert, by way of Damascus, bringing to the Pasha a Turkish translation of the treaty of peace concluded at Paris. After having read it several times, he ordered his Turkish writer to explain it to me in Arabic, word for word. This occupied us in a private apartment several hours. I then returned to the audience, and was desired by the Pasha to tell him my opinion of the treaty. Referring to a Turkish atlas, copied from European maps, and printed at Constantinople, he made me point out to him the new limits of Belgium, the islands Mauritius and Tobago, the position of Genoa, &c. &c. With respect to the latter place, a curious mistake occurred. It had been stated to me that Genoa was ceded to the Swedes, which I could not credit. Upon inquiry, I found that Geneva and Switzerland were meant; a town and country which, I am sorry to say, were not comprised in the geographical knowledge of a Turkish viceroy. The mistake, how­ever, was easily made; for in Turkish, Geneva is written like Genoua, and Sweden is pronounced Shwit.

The Pasha observed that much yet remained to be done, before all differences between the parties could be settled; and I clearly saw how impatiently he looked forward to a war among the European powers, which would relieve him from any apprehensions for his own safety, and at the same time occasion a great demand for corn at Alexandria.

With respect to Bonaparte, he seemed quite certain that the English would one day seize him in Elba. Have the English, then, he exclaimed, fought for nothing these twenty years? They have only got Malta, and a few other islands! He was impressed with the fear that there were secret articles in the peace, which assigned to them the possession of Egypt. The notion of their having re-established the balance of power in Europe, and secured their own safety and independence, did not enter into his mind. They should not leave Spain, he continued, without

[p.82] being handsomely paid by the Spaniards; and why now abandon Sicily? That the English were guided in their policy by the laws of honour, and a sense of the general good of Europe, he could not comprehend. A great king, he exclaimed, with much warmth, knows nothing but his sword and his purse; he draws the one to fill the other; there is no honour among conquerors!—a frank avowal of the sentiments which guide even the most petty of the Turkish rulers.

Mohammed Aly had some notions of the English parliament; the name of Wellington was familiar to him. He was a great general, he said; but he doubted whether, if his Lordship had commanded such bad soldiers as the Turkish troops are, he would have been able to do with them as much as he (the Pasha) had done in conquering Egypt and the Hedjaz. He betrayed great anxiety about the fate and future possession of Corfu and the Seven Islands. On the one hand, he wished the Russians to make war on the Porte, and to drive the Sultan out of Europe; on the other, he feared that, if the Russians should seize Turkey in Europe, the English would not remain quiet spectators, but would take their share of the Turkish empire, which he was firmly persuaded would be no other than the province of Egypt.

I am still ignorant of the Pashas real opinion concerning my sincerity in professing the Mohammedan faith. He certainly treated me as a muselman, and I flattered myself that the boldness of my conduct at Tayf had convinced him that I was a true pro­selyte. As to the Kadhy, who was a shrewd Constantinopolitan, most people supposed that the Porte had sent him to watch the proceedings of Mohammed Aly, and give information accordingly to the Sultan; and it struck me that his behaviour towards myself was connected with an intention of accusing the Pasha, on his return to Constantinople, of having protected a Christian in his visit to the holy cities, a crime which would be considered unpar­donable in a Pasha. Mohammed Aly, after his return to Cairo,

[p.83] (where, contrary to his expectations, he again found me, and where I only saw him once,) took frequent opportunities, and indeed seemed anxious, to convince Mr. Salt and Mr. Lee, His Majestys and the Levant Companys consuls, as well as several English travellers of note who passed through Cairo, that he knew per­fectly well, in the Hedjaz, that I was no Moslem, but that his friendship for the English nation made him overlook the circum­stance, and permit me to impose upon the Kadhy. He entertained a notion, suggested to him by some of his Frank counsellors at Cairo, that, in some future account of my travels, I might perhaps boast of having imposed upon him, like Aly Bey el Abassi, whose work had just been received at Cairo, and who declares that he deceived not only the Pasha, but all the olemas, or learned men, of Cairo. To Mohammed Aly it was of more consequence not to be thought a fool than a bad muselman.

Notwithstanding these declarations of the Pasha to the English gentlemen, which were made in private, and certainly were not occasioned by any imprudent speeches of mine, I continued to live, after my return to Cairo, without molestation, as a Moslem, in the Turkish quarter. I have to thank him for his polite reception of me at Tayf, and for his having thrown no obstacles in the way of my travels through the Hedjaz.

I was at Mekka in December, and at Medina in the April following, when the Pasha was at both places; but I did not think it necessary or advisable to wait upon him at either place, where I was otherwise wholly unknown. My practice in travelling has been to live as retired as possible; and, except during my short visit to Tayf, where circumstances forced me to appear somewhat conspicuously, I was known only in the Hedjaz as a hadjy, or pilgrim, a private gentleman from Egypt, one with whom no person was acquainted but the few officers of the Pasha whom I had seen at Tayf.

My information respecting Tayf is very scanty, and was not

[p.84] committed to paper until after I had left the town. I was never suffered to be alone during my stay there. I had no acquaintances from whom much could be learned; and during the fast of Ramadhan, few individuals of the higher classes, among whom I lived, stir out of their houses in the day-time.