Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah & Meccah Volume I Part 16

[p.199] distant Desert. Still we succeeded in making ourselves intelligible to them, vaunting our dignity as the Sons of the Prophet, and the sanct.i.ty of our land which should protect its children from every description of fraud and violence. We benignantly promised to be their guides at Al-Madinah, and the boy Mohammed would conduct their devotions at Meccah, always provided that they repented their past misdeeds, avoided any repet.i.tion of the same, and promised to perform the duties of good and faithful pilgrims. Presently the Rais joined our party, and the usual story-telling began. The old man knew the name of each hill, and had a legend for every nook and corner in sight. He dwelt at length upon the life of Abu Zulaymah, the patron saint of these seas, whose little tomb stands at no great distance from our bivouac place, and told us how he sits watching over the safety of pious mariners in a cave among the neighbouring rocks, and sipping his coffee, which is brought in a raw state from Meccah by green birds, and prepared in the usual way by the hands of ministering angels. He showed us the spot where the terrible king of Egypt, when close upon the heels of the children of Israel, was whelmed in the "h.e.l.l of waters,[FN#19]"

and he warned us that next day our way would be through breakers, and reefs, and dangerous currents, over whose troubled depths, since that awful day, the Ifrit of the storm has never ceased to flap his sable wing. The wincing of the hearers proved that the shaft of the old man's words was sharp; but as night was advancing, we unrolled our rugs, and fell asleep upon the sand, all of us happy, for we had fed and drunk, and

[p.200]-the h.o.m.o sapiens is a hopeful animal-we made sure that on the morrow the Ifrit would be merciful, and allow us to eat fresh dates at the harbour of Tur.

Fair visions of dates doomed to the Limbo of things which should have been! The grey dawn (8th July) looked down upon us in difficulties. The water is deep near this coast; we had anch.o.r.ed at high tide close to the sh.o.r.e, and the ebb had left us high and dry. When this fact became apparent, a storm was upon the point of breaking. The Maghrabis, but for our interference, would have bastinadoed the Rais, who, they said with some reason, ought to have known better. When this phase of feeling pa.s.sed away, they applied themselves to physical efforts. All except the women and children, who stood on the sh.o.r.e encouraging their relatives with shrill quaverings, threw themselves into the water; some pushed, others applied their shoulders to the vessel's side, and all used their lungs with might and main. But the "Golden Wire" was firmly fixed, and their exertions were too irregular. Muscular force failed, upon which they changed their tactics. At the suggestion of their "Maula," they prepared to burn incense in honour of the Shaykh Abu Zulaymah. The material not being forthcoming, they used coffee, which perhaps accounts for the shortcomings of that holy man. After this the Rais remembered that their previous exertions had not begun under the auspices of the Fatihah. Therefore they prayed, and then reapplied themselves to work. Still they failed. Finally, each man called aloud upon his own particular saint or spiritual guide, and rushed forward as if he alone sufficed for the exploit. Shaykh Hamid unwisely quoted the name, and begged the a.s.sistance, of his great ancestor, the "Clarified-b.u.t.ter-Seller"; the obdurate "Golden Wire" was not moved, and Hamid retired in momentary confusion.

It was now about nine A.M., and the water had risen

[p.201] considerably. My morning had been pa.s.sed in watching the influx of the tide, and the grotesque efforts of the Maghrabis. When the vessel showed some symptoms of unsteadiness, I arose, walked gravely up to her, ranged the pilgrims around her with their shoulders to the sides, and told them to heave with might when they heard me invoke the revered name of my patron saint. I raised my hands and voice; "Ya Piran Pir! Ya Abd al-Kadir Jilani[FM#20]" was the signal. Each Maghrabi worked like an Atlas, the "Golden Wire" canted half over, and, sliding heavily through the sand, once more floated off into deep water. This was generally voted a minor miracle, and the Effendi was respected-for a day or two.

The wind was fair, but we had all to re-embark, an operation which went on till noon. After starting I remarked the natural cause which gives this Birkat Faraun-"Pharaoh's Bay,"-a bad name. Here the gulf narrows; and the winds, which rush down the clefts and valleys of the lofty mountains on the Eastern and Western sh.o.r.es, meeting tides and counter-currents, cause a perpetual commotion. That day the foam-tipped waves repeatedly washed over my cot, by no means diminishing its discomforts. In the evening, or rather late in the afternoon, we anch.o.r.ed, to our infinite disgust, under a ridge of rocks, behind which lies the plain of Tur. The Rais deterred all from going on sh.o.r.e by terrible stories about the Badawin that haunt the place, besides which there was no sand to sleep upon. We remained, therefore, on board that night; and, making sail early the next morning, we threaded through reefs and sand-banks about noon into the intricate and dangerous entrance of Tur.

Nothing can be meaner than the present appearance of the old Phoenician colony, although its position as a

[p.202] harbour, and its plentiful supply of fruit and fresh water, make it one of the most frequented places on the coast. The only remains of any antiquity-except the wells-are the fortifications which the Portuguese erected to keep out the Badawin. The little town lies upon a plain that stretches with a gradual rise from the sea to the lofty mountain-axis of the Sinaitic group.The country around reminded me strongly of maritime Sind; a flat of clay and sand, clothed with spa.r.s.e turfs of Salsolae, and bearing strong signs of a (geologically speaking) recent origin. The town is inhabited princ.i.p.ally by Greek and other Christians,[FN#21] who live by selling water and provisions to ships. A fleecy cloud hung lightly over the majestic head of Jabal Tur, about eventide, and the outlines of the giant hills stood "picked out" from the clear blue sky. Our Rais, weather-wise man, warned us that these were indications of a gale, and that, in case of rough weather, he did not intend to leave Tur. I was not sorry to hear this. We had pa.s.sed a pleasant day, drinking sweet water, and eating the dates, grapes, and pomegranates, which the people of the place carry down to the beach for the benefit of hungry pilgrims. Besides which, there were various sights to see, and with these we might profitably spend the morrow. We therefore pitched the tent upon the sand, and busied ourselves with

[p.203] extricating a box of provisions: the labour was rendered lighter by the absence of the Maghrabis, some of whom were wandering about the beach, whilst others had gone off to fill their bags with fresh water. We found their surliness insufferable; even when we were pa.s.sing from p.o.o.p to forecastle, landing or boarding, they grumbled forth their dissatisfaction.

Our Rais was not mistaken in his prediction. The fleecy cloud on Tur's tops had given true warning. When morning (9th July) broke, we found the wind strong, and the sea white with foam. Most of us thought lightly of these terrors, but our valorous captain swore that he dared not for his life cross in such a storm the mouth of ill-omened Akabah.

We breakfasted, therefore, and afterwards set out to visit Moses' Hot Baths, mounted on wretched donkeys with pack-saddles, ignorant of stirrups, and without tails, whilst we ourselves suffered generally from boils, which, as usual upon a journey, make their appearance in localities the most inconvenient. Our road lay northward across the plain towards a long narrow strip of date ground, surrounded by a ruinous mud wall. After a ride of two or three miles, we entered the gardens, and came suddenly upon the Hammam. It is a prim little c.o.c.kney bungalow, built by Abbas Pasha of Egypt for his own accommodation; glaringly whitewashed, and garnished with diwans and calico curtains of a gorgeous hue. The guardian had been warned of our visit, and was present to supply us with bathing-cloths and other necessaries. One by one we entered the cistern, which is now in an inner room. The water is about four feet deep, warm in winter, cool in summer, of a saltish-bitter taste, but celebrated for its invigorating qualities, when applied externally. On one side of the calcareous rock, near the ground, is the hole opened for the spring by Moses' rod, which must have been like the "mast of some tall

[p.204] Ammiral[FN#22]"; and near it are the marks of Moses' nails-deep indentations in the stone, which were probably left there by some extinct Saurian. Our Cicerone informed us that formerly the finger-marks existed, and that they were long enough for a man to lie in. The same functionary attributed the sanitary properties of the spring to the blessings of the Prophet, and, when asked why Moses had not made sweet water to flow, informed us that the Great Lawgiver had intended the spring for bathing in, not for drinking. We sat with him, eating the small yellow dates of Tur, which are delicious, melting like honey in the mouth, and leaving a surpa.s.sing arriere gout. After finishing sundry pipes and cups of coffee, we gave the bath-man a few piastres, and, mounting our donkeys, started eastward for the Bir Musa,[FN#23] which we reached in half an hour. It is a fine old work, built round and domed over with roughly squared stones, very like what may be seen in some rustic parts of Southern England. The sides of the pit were so rugged that a man could climb down them, and at the bottom was a pool of water, sweet and abundant. We had intended to stay there, and to dine al fresco, but the hated faces of our companions, the Maghrabis, meeting us at the entrance, nipped that project in the bud.

Accordingly we retired from the burning

[p.205] sun to a neighbouring coffee-house-a shed of palm leaves kept by a Tur man, and there, seated on mats, we demolished the contents of our basket. Whilst we were eating, some Badawin came in and joined us, when invited so to do. They were poorly dressed, and all armed with knives and cheap sabres, hanging to leathern bandoleers: in language and demeanour they showed few remains of their old ferocity. As late as Mohammed Ali's time these people were noted wreckers, and formerly they were dreaded pirates: now they are lions with their fangs and claws drawn.

In the even, when we returned to our tent, a Syrian, one of our party on the p.o.o.p, came out to meet us with the information that several large vessels had arrived from Suez, comparatively speaking, empty, and that the captain of one of them would land us at Yambu' for three dollars a head. The proposal was tempting. But presently it became apparent that my companions were unwilling to shift their precious boxes, and moreover, that I should have to pay for those who could not or would not pay for themselves,-that is to say, for the whole party.

As such a display of wealth would have been unadvisable, I dismissed the idea with a sigh. Amongst the large vessels was one freighted with Persian pilgrims, a most disagreeable race of men on a journey or a voyage. They would not land at first, because they feared the Badawin.

They would not take water from the town people, because some of these were Christians. Moreover, they insisted upon making their own call to prayer, which heretical proceeding-it admits five extra words-our party, orthodox Moslems, would rather have died than have permitted.

When their crier, a small wizen-faced man, began the Azan with a voice

"in quel tenore Che fa il cappon quando talvolta canta,"

we received it with a shout of derision, and some, hastily

[p.206] s.n.a.t.c.hing up their weapons, offered him an opportunity of martyrdom. The Maghrabis, too, hearing that the Persians were Rafaz (heretics) crowded fiercely round to do a little Jihad, or Fighting for the Faith. The long-bearded men took the alarm. They were twice the number of our small party, and therefore they had been in the habit of strutting about with nonchalance, and looking at us fixedly, and otherwise demeaning themselves in an indecorous way. But when it came to the point, they showed the white feather. These Persians accompanied us to the end of our voyage. As they approached the Holy Land, visions of the "Nabbut" caused a change for the better in their manners. At Mahar they meekly endured a variety of insults, and at Yambu' they cringed to us like dogs.

[FN#1] Men of the Maghrab, or Western Africa; the vulgar plural is Maghrabin, generally written "Mogrebyn." May not the singular form of this word have given rise to the Latin "Maurus," by elision of the Ghayn, to Italians an unp.r.o.nounceable consonant? From Maurus comes the Portuguese "Moro," and our "Moor." When Vasco de Gama reached Calicut, he found there a tribe of Arab colonists, who in religion and in language were the same as the people of Northern Africa,-for this reason he called them "Moors." This was explained long ago by Vincent (Periplus, lib. 3), and lately by Prichard (Natural History of Man). I repeat it because it has been my fate to hear, at a meeting of a learned society in London, a gentleman declare, that in Eastern Africa he found a people calling themselves Moors. Maghrabin-Westerns,-then would be opposed to Sharkiyin, Easterns, the origin of our "Saracen."

From Gibbon downwards many have discussed the history of this word; but few expected in the nineteenth century to see a writer on Eastern subjects a.s.sert, with Sir John Mandeville, that these people "properly, ben clept Sarrazins of Sarra." The learned M. Jomard, who never takes such original views of things, asks a curious question:-"Mais comment un son aussi distinct que le Chine [Arabic text] aurait-il pu se confondre avec le Syn [Arabic text] et, pour un mot aussi connu que charq; comment aurait-on pu se tromper a l'omission des points?" Simply because the word Saracens came to us through the Greeks (Ptolemy uses it), who have no such sound as sh in their language, and through the Italian which, hostile to the harsh sibilants of Oriental dialects, generally melts sh down into s. So the historical word Hashshashiyun-hemp-drinker,-civilised by the Italians into "a.s.sa.s.sino,"

became, as all know, an expression of European use. But if any one adverse to "etymological fancies" objects to my deriving Maurus from "Maghrab," let him remember Johnson's successfully tracing the course of the metamorphosis of "dies" into "jour." An even more peculiar change we may discover in the word "elephant." "Pilu" in Sanscrit, became "pil" in old Persian, which ignores short final vowels; "fil,"

and, with the article, "Al-fil," in Arabic, which supplies the place of p (an unknown letter to it), by f; and elephas in Greek, which is fond of adding "as" to Arabic words, as in the cases of Aretas (Haris) and Obodas (Obayd). "A name," says Humboldt, "often becoming a historical monument, and the etymological a.n.a.lysis of language, however it may be divided, is attended by valuable results."

[FN#2] The Toni or Indian canoe is the hollowed-out trunk of a tree,-near Bombay generally a mango. It must have been the first step in advance from that simplest form of naval architecture, the "Catamaran" of Madras and Aden.

[FN#3] In these vessels each traveller, unless a previous bargain be made, is expected to provide his own water and firewood. The best way, however, is, when the old wooden box called a tank is sound, to pay the captain for providing water, and to keep the key.

[FN#4] The "opener"-the first chapter of the Koran, which Moslems recite as Christians do the Lord's Prayer; it is also used on occasions of danger, the beginnings of journeys, to bind contracts, &c.

[FN#5] These Maghrabis, like the Somalis, the Wahhabis of the desert, and certain other barbarous races, unaccustomed to tobacco, appeared to hate the smell of a pipe.

[FN#6] The hands are raised in order to catch the blessing that is supposed to descend from heaven upon the devotee; and the meaning of drawing the palms down the face is symbolically to transfer the benediction to every part of the body.

[FN#7] As is the case under all despotic governments, nothing can be more intentionally offensive than the official manners of a superior to his inferior in Egypt. The Indians charge their European fellow-subjects with insolence of demeanour and coa.r.s.eness of language.

As far as my experience goes, our roughness and brusquerie are mere politeness compared with what pa.s.ses between Easterns. At the same time it must be owned that I have seen the worst of it.

[FN#8] It was far safer and more expeditious in Al-Adrisi's day (A.D.

1154), when the captain used to sit on the p.o.o.p "furnished with numerous and useful instruments"; when he "sounded the shallows, and by his knowledge of the depths could direct the helmsman where to steer."

[FN#9] In the East it is usual, when commencing a voyage or a journey, to make a short day's work, in order to be at a convenient distance for returning, in case of any essential article having been forgotten.

[FN#10] A Jesuit missionary who visited the place in A.D. 1720, and described it in a well-known volume. As every eminent author, however, monopolises a "crossing," and since the head of the Suez creek, as is shown by its old watermark, has materially changed within no very distant period, it is no wonder that the question is still sub judice, and that there it will remain most probably till the end of time. The Christians have two equally favourite lines: the Moslems patronise one so impossible, that it has had attractions enough to fix their choice.

It extends from Zafaran Point to Hammam Bluffs, ten miles of deep water.

[FN#11] The Hebrew name of this part of the Red Sea. In a communication lately made to the Royal Geographical Society, I gave my reasons for believing that the Greeks borrowed their Erythraean Sea from the Arabic "Sea of Himyar."

[FN#12] Most travellers remark that they have never seen a brighter blue than that of the Red Sea. It was the observation of an early age that "the Rede Sea is not more rede than any other sea, but in some place thereof is the gravelle rede, and therefore men clepen it the Rede Sea."

[FN#13] Jild al-Faras (or Kamar al-Din), a composition of apricot paste, dried, spread out, and folded into sheets, exactly resembling the article after which it is named. Turks and Arabs use it when travelling; they dissolve it in water, and eat it as a relish with bread or biscuit.

[FN#14] "Pharaoh's hot baths," which in our maps are called "Hummum Bluffs." They are truly "enchanted land" in Moslem fable: a volume would scarcely contain the legends that have been told and written about them. (See Note 1, p. 10, ante.) [FN#15] One of the numerous species of what the Italians generally call "Pasta." The material is wheaten or barley flour rolled into small round grains. In Barbary it is cooked by steaming, and served up with hard boiled eggs and mutton, sprinkled with red pepper. These Badawi Maghrabis merely boiled it.

[FN#16] The Azan is differently p.r.o.nounced, though similarly worded by every orthodox nation in Al-Islam.

[FN#17] The usual way of kissing the knee is to place the finger tips upon it, and then to raise them to the mouth. It is an action denoting great humility, and the condescending superior who is not an immediate master returns the compliment in the same way.

[FN#18] The Maghrabi dialect is known to be the harshest and most guttural form of Arabic. It owes this unenviable superiority to its frequency of "Sukun," or the quiescence of one or more consonants;-"K'lab," for instance, for "Kilab," and "'Msik" for "Amsik." Thus it is that vowels, the soft and liquid part of language, disappear, leaving in their place a barbarous sounding ma.s.s of consonants.

[FN#19] Burckhardt mentions the Arab legend that the spirits of the drowned Egyptians may be seen moving at the bottom of the sea, and Finati adds that they are ever busy recruiting their numbers with shipwrecked mariners.

[FN#20] I thus called upon a celebrated Sufi or mystic, whom many East-Indian Moslems reverence as the Arabs do their Prophet. In Appendix I the curious reader will find Abd al-Kadir again mentioned.

[FN#21] Those people are descendants of Syrians and Greeks that fled from Candia, Scios, the Ionian Islands, and Palestine to escape the persecutions of the Turks. They now wear the Arab dress, and speak the language of the country, but they are easily to be distinguished from the Moslems by the expression of their countenances and sometimes by their blue eyes and light hair. There are also a few families calling themselves Jabaliyah, or mountaineers. Originally they were 100 households, sent by Justinian to serve the convent of St. Catherine, and to defend it against the Berbers.Sultan Kansuh al-Ghori, called by European writers Campson Gaury, the Mamluk King of Egypt, in A.D.

1501, admitted these people into the Moslem community on condition of their continuing the menial service they had afforded to the monks.

[FN#22] Adam's forehead (says the Tarikh Tabari) brushed the skies, but this height being inconvenient, the Lord abridged it to 100 cubits. The Moslems firmly believe in Anakim. Josephus informs us that Moses was of "divine form and great tallness"; the Arabs specify his stature,-300 cubits. They have, moreover, found his grave in some parts of the country S.E, of the Dead Sea, and make cups of a kind of bitumen called "Moses' Stones." This people nescit ignorare-it will know everything.

[FN#23] "Moses' Well." I have no argument except the untrustworthy traditions of the Badawin, either for or against this having been the identical well near which Moses sat when he fled from the face of Pharaoh to the land of Midian. One thing is certain, namely, that in this part of Arabia, as also at Aden, the wells are of a very ancient date.

[p.207]CHAPTER XI.

TO YAMBU'.

ON the 11th July, 1853, about dawn, we left Tur, after a pleasant halt, with the unpleasant certainty of not touching ground for thirty-six hours. I pa.s.sed the time in steadfast contemplation of the web of my umbrella, and in making the following meteorological remarks.

Morning.-The air is mild and balmy as that of an Italian spring; thick mists roll down the valleys along the sea, and a haze like mother-o'-pearl crowns the headlands. The distant rocks show t.i.tanic walls, lofty donjons, huge projecting bastions, and moats full of deep shade. At their base runs a sea of amethyst, and as earth receives the first touches of light, their summits, almost transparent, mingle with the jasper tints of the sky. Nothing can be more delicious than this hour. But as

"les plus belles choses Ont le pire destin,"

so lovely Morning soon fades. The sun bursts up from behind the main, a fierce enemy, a foe that will force every one to crouch before him. He dyes the sky orange, and the sea "incarnadine," where its violet surface is stained by his rays, and he mercilessly puts to flight the mists and haze and the little agate-coloured ma.s.ses of cloud that were before floating in the firmament. The atmosphere is so clear that now and then a planet is visible. For the two

[p.208] hours following sunrise the rays are endurable; after that they become a fiery ordeal. The morning beams oppress you with a feeling of sickness; their steady glow, reflected by the glaring waters, blinds your eyes, blisters your skin, and parches your mouth: you now become a monomaniac; you do nothing but count the slow hours that must "minute by" before you can be relieved.[FN#1]

Midday.-The wind, reverberated by the glowing hills is like the blast of a lime-kiln. All colour melts away with the canescence from above.

The sky is a dead milk-white, and the mirror-like sea so reflects the tint that you can scarcely distinguish the line of the horizon. After noon the wind sleeps upon the reeking sh.o.r.e; there is a deep stillness; the only sound heard is the melancholy flapping of the sail. Men are not so much sleeping as half-senseless; they feel as if a few more degrees of heat would be death.

Sunset.-The enemy sinks behind the deep cerulean sea, under a canopy of gigantic rainbow which covers half the face of heaven. Nearest to the horizon is an arch of tawny orange; above it another of the brightest gold, and based upon these a semi-circle of tender sea-green blends with a score of delicate gradations into the sapphire sky. Across the rainbow the sun throws its rays in the form of giant wheel-spokes tinged with a beautiful pink. The Eastern sky is mantled with a purple flush that picks out the forms of the hazy Desert and the sharp-cut Hills. Language is a thing too cold, too poor, to express the harmony and the majesty of this hour, which is as evanescent, however, as it is lovely. Night falls rapidly, when suddenly the appearance of the Zodiacal Light[FN#2] restores

[p.209] the scene to what it was. Again the grey hills and the grim rocks become rosy or golden, the palms green, the sands saffron, and the sea wears a lilac surface of dimpling waves. But after a quarter of an hour all fades once more; the cliffs are naked and ghastly under the moon, whose light falling upon this wilderness of white crags and pinnacles is most strange-most mysterious.

Night.-The horizon is all darkness, and the sea reflects the white visage of the night-sun as in a mirror of steel. In the air we see giant columns of pallid light, distinct, based upon the indigo-coloured waves, and standing with their heads lost in endless s.p.a.ce. The stars glitter with exceeding brilliance.[FN#3] At this hour are

"-river and hill and wood, With all the numberless goings on of life, Inaudible as dreams";

while the planets look down upon you with the faces of smiling friends.

You feel the "sweet influence of the Pleiades." You are bound by the "bond of Orion." Hesperus bears with him a thousand things. In communion with them your hours pa.s.s swiftly by, till the heavy dews warn you to cover up your face and sleep. And with one look at a certain little Star in the north, under which lies all that makes life worth living through-surely it is a venial superst.i.tion to sleep with your eyes towards that Kiblah!-you fall into oblivion.

Those thirty-six hours were a trial even to the hard-headed Badawin.

The Syrian and his two friends fell ill. Omar Effendi, it is true, had the courage to say his