Part 2

[p.4] in Cairo, to Araby Djeylany, the richest merchant of Djidda; but this I knew could be of no use, as it was not a letter of credit; and I did not present it. [I afterwards became acquainted with Djeylany, at Mekka; and what I saw of him, convinced me that I was not mistaken in the estimation I had formed of his readiness to assist a stranger.] I determined therefore, at last, to address the Pasha, Mohammed Aly, in person. He had arrived in the Hedjaz at the close of the spring of 1813, and was now resident at Tayf, where he had established the head-quarters of the army, with which he intended to attack the strongholds of the Wahabis. I had seen the Pasha several times at Cairo, before my departure for Upper Egypt; and had informed him in general terms of my travelling madness (as he afterwards jocularly termed it himself at Tayf). I should here observe that, as the merchants of Upper Egypt are in general poor, and none of them strictly honour a bill or obligation by immediate payment, I had found it necessary, during my stay there, in order to obtain a supply of money, to request my correspondent at Cairo to pay the sum which I wanted into the Pasha’s treasury, and to take an order from him upon his son, Ibrahim Pasha, then governor of Upper Egypt, to repay me the amount. Having therefore already had some money dealings with the Pasha, I thought that, without being guilty of too much effrontery, I might now endeavour to renew them in the Hedjaz, and the more so, as I knew that he had formerly expressed rather a favourable opinion of my person and pursuits. As soon, therefore, as the violence of my fever had subsided, I wrote to his physician, an Armenian of the name of Bosari, whom I had also known at Cairo, where I had heard much in his favour, and who was then with his master at Tayf. I begged him to represent my unfortunate situation to the Pasha, to inform him that my letter of credit upon Djidda had not been honoured, and to ask him whether he would accept a bill upon

[p.5] my correspondent at Cairo, and order his treasurer at Djidda to pay the amount of it.

Although Tayf is only five days distant from Djidda, yet the state of the country was such, that private travellers seldom ventured to cross the mountains between Mekka and Tayf; and caravans, which carried the letters of the people of the country, departed only at intervals of from eight to ten days; I could not, therefore, expect an answer to my letter in less than twenty days. During this period I passed my leisure hours at Djidda, in transcribing the journal of my travels in Nubia; but I felt the heat at this season so oppressive, especially in my weak state, that, except during a few hours early in the morning, I found no ease but in the cool shade of the great gateway of the Khan in which I lodged; where I passed the greater part of the day, stretched upon a stone bench. Bosari’s correspondent at Djidda, through whom I had sent my letter to Tayf, had meanwhile mentioned my name to Yahya Effendi, the physician of Tousoun Pasha, son of Mohammed Aly, now governor of Djidda, who had been in Upper Egypt while I was there, but I had not seen him. This physician, when at Cairo, had heard my name mentioned as that of a traveller; and understanding now, that I came from the Black countries, he was curious to see me, and desired Bosari’s friend to introduce me to him. He received me politely, invited me repeatedly to his house, and, in the course of further explanation, became acquainted with my wants, and the steps I had taken to relieve them. He happened at this time to be preparing for a journey to Medina with Tousoun Pasha, and was sending back all his unnecessary baggage to Cairo; with this he was also desirous to transmit to his family his last year’s savings, amounting to three thousand piastres (about 100l.), and he was so kind as to offer me the money for a bill upon Cairo, payable at sight; an advantage which, he well knew, the merchants of Djidda never insure to those who take their bills. Such an offer would not be considered as conferring

[p.6] any obligation in the commercial towns of Europe; but in the East, and under the circumstances in which I was placed, it was extraordinary. Yahya Effendi added, that some of his friends had given me a flattering character while at Cairo, and that he could not, therefore, entertain the slightest doubt of my solvency and respectability, in which opinion he had been confirmed on reading the letter of credit I had brought with me. As the issue of my application to the Pasha at Tayf was uncertain, I readily and gratefully accepted Yahya’s proposal; the money was immediately paid to me, the bills drawn, and a few days after, my obliging friend departed with Tousoun Pasha for Medina, where I had the pleasure of seeing him again early in the following year.

I was now in possession of a sum sufficient to banish all apprehension of suffering from poverty before the arrival of fresh supplies from Egypt, whatever might be the consequence of my application to the Pasha; but Yahya Effendi was no sooner gone, than I received a somewhat favourable answer to the letter I had written to Tayf. Bosari, it appeared, had been rather unwilling to urge my request to the Pasha, afraid, perhaps, that he might himself become a sufferer, should I forfeit my word. The Pasha, however, had heard of my being at Djidda, through another person in his suite, whom I had seen there, and who had arrived at Tayf; and hearing that I was walking about in rags, he immediately despatched a messenger, with two dromedaries, to the collector of customs at Djidda, Seyd Aly Odjakly, in whose hands was the management of all the affairs of the town, with an order to furnish me a suit of clothes, and a purse of five hundred piastres as travelling money; accompanied with a request that I should repair immediately to Tayf, with the same messenger who had brought the letter. In a postscript, Seyd Aly Odjakly was enjoined to order the messenger to take me by the upper road to Tayf, which leaves Mekka to the south, the lower and more usual road passing through the middle of that town.

[p.7] The invitation of a Turkish Pasha is a polite command; whatever, therefore, might be my reluctance to go at this time to Tayf, I could not avoid, under the present circumstances, complying with the Pasha’s wishes; and, notwithstanding the secret aversion I had to receive a present at his hands instead of a loan, I could not refuse to accept the clothes and money, without hurting the pride and exciting the resentment of a chief, whose good graces it was now my principal aim to conciliate. [Some persons, perhaps, consider it an honour to receive presents from Pashas; but I think differently. I know that the real motive of a Turk in making presents, is either to get double the value in return, (which could not be the case with me,) or to gratify his own pride in showing to his courtiers that he deigns to be liberal towards a person whom he holds infinitely below him in station or worth. I have often witnessed the sneers of the donor and his people on making such presents; and their sentiments are sometimes expressed by the saying, “Look, he has thrown a morsel to this dog!” Few Europeans may, perhaps, agree with me in this respect, but my knowledge authorises me to form this opinion; and the only advice which I can give to travellers who would not lower themselves in the estimation of Turkish grandees, is to be always ready, on similar occasions, to return the supposed favour two-fold. As for myself, I had but seldom occasion to make presents during my travels; and this was the only one that I was ever obliged to accept.] I likewise understood the meaning of the postscript, although Seyd Aly was not aware of it; but, on this point, I flattered myself I should be a match for the Pasha and his people.

As the invitation was very pressing, I left Djidda in the evening of the same day on which the messenger arrived, after supping with Seyd Aly, in company with a great number of Hadjis from all parts of the world; for the fast of Ramadhan had already commenced, and during this month everybody displays as much hospitality and splendour as he possibly can, particularly in the supper after sun-set. Distrusting in some measure the Pasha’s intentions, I thought it necessary to carry a full purse to Tayf; I therefore changed the whole of the three thousand piastres which I had received from Yahya Effendi into gold, and put it in my girdle. A person who has money has little to fear among Osmanlis,

[p.8] except the loss of it; but I thought that I might stand in need of what I had, either as a bribe, or to facilitate my departure from Tayf. I was, however, fortunately mistaken in both these conjectures.

I shall add here some remarks on Djidda and its inhabitants. The town is built upon a slightly rising ground, the lowest side of which is washed by the sea. Along the shore it extends in its greatest length for about fifteen hundred paces, while the breadth is no where more than half that space. It is surrounded on the land-side by a wall, in a tolerable state of repair, but of no strength. It had been constructed only a few years since by the joint labours of the inhabitants themselves, who were sensible that they possessed no protection against the Wahabis in the ancient half-ruined wall, built, A.H. 917, by Kansoue el Ghoury, Sultan of Egypt. [See Kotobeddin, History of Mekka.] The present structure is a sufficient barrier against Arabs, who have no artillery. At every interval of forty or fifty paces, the wall is strengthened by watch- towers, with a few rusty guns. A narrow ditch was also carried along its whole extent, to increase the means of defence; and thus Djidda enjoys, in Arabia, the reputation of being an impregnable fortress. On the sea- shore, in front of the town, the ancient wall remains, but in a state of decay. At the northern extremity, near the spot where the new wall is washed by the sea, stands the Governor’s residence; and at the southern extremity is a small castle, mounting eight or ten guns. There is, besides, a battery, to guard the entrance from the side of the sea, and command the whole harbour. Here is mounted an immense old piece of ordnance, which carries a ball of five hundred pounds, and is so celebrated all over the Red Sea, that the very fame of it is a protection to Djidda. The approach into the town from the sea is by two quays, where small boats discharge the cargoes of the large ships, these being obliged to

[p.9] anchor in the roadstead, about two miles from shore; none but the vessels called say, (the smallest that navigate the Red Sea,) approaching close to the shore. The quays are shut every evening about sunset; thus all communication is prevented, at night, between the town and the shipping.

On the land side Djidda has two gates; the Báb Mekka on the east side, and Báb el Medina on the north. A small gate in the south wall has lately been filled up. The area inclosed by the new wall (about three thousand paces in circuit) and the sea, is not entirely covered with buildings. A broad piece of open ground extends the whole length of the interior of the wall; and there is, besides, a good deal of waste ground near the Báb el Medina, and on the southern extremity. Having traversed this open space in coming from the gate, you enter the suburbs, comprising only huts formed of reeds, rushes, and brushwood, and encircling the inner town, which consists of stone buildings. The huts are chiefly inhabited by Bedouins, or poor peasants and labourers, who live here completely after the Bedouin fashion. Similar quarters for people of this description may be found in every town of Arabia. The interior of Djidda is divided into different districts. The people of Sowakin, who frequent this place, reside near the Báb el Medina; their quarters are called Haret è Sowakiny. Here they live in a few poor houses, but principally under huts, to which the lowest class of people frequently resort, as many public women reside here, and those who sell the intoxicating beverage called Boosa. The most respectable inhabitants have their quarters near the sea, where a long street, running parallel to the shore, appears lined with shops, and affords many khans constantly and exclusively frequented by the merchants. Djidda is well built; indeed, better than any Turkish town of equal size that I had hitherto seen. The streets are unpaved, but spacious and airy; the houses high, constructed wholly of stone, brought for the greater part from the sea-shore, and consisting of madrepores and other marine

[p.10] fossils. Almost every house has two stories, with many small windows and wooden shutters. Some have bow-windows, which exhibit a great display of joiners’ or carpenters’ work. There is, generally, a spacious hall at the entrance, where strangers are received, and which, during the heat of the day, is cooler than any other part of the house, as its floor is kept almost constantly wet. The distribution of rooms is nearly the same as in the houses of Egypt and Syria; with this difference, however, that in Djidda there are not so many large and lofty apartments as in those countries, where but few houses, at least of the natives, have two stories, whilst the rooms on the ground-floor are sometimes of a considerable height. It thus happens that, in many houses of the Hedjaz, the only cool spot is the entrance-hall; and here, at noon, the master, with all his male attendants, hired servants or slaves, may be seen enjoying, the siesta. [Although the cool breeze comes only from the north, yet the Arabians do not seem to take so much advantage of it in their houses as the Egyptians, whose principal rooms are generally so contrived as to open towards the north. The large ventilators constructed on the terraces of houses in Egypt, and which diffuse a current of air through all the lower apartments, are unknown in the Hedjaz.] As building is very expensive in this country, little is adapted for outward show beyond the lattice-work of the bow-windows; this frequently is painted with most gaudy colours, both on the outside and inside. In many houses the lawful wife of a man occupies one part, and his female Abyssinian slaves are lodged in their own distinct apartments; convenience, therefore, in the building, is more studied than size or beauty; yet, in Egypt, many ordinary houses have spacious and handsome rooms.

Uniformity in architecture is not observed at Djidda. Some houses are built with small, others with large square stones, the smooth side outwards, and the interior filled up with mud. Sometimes the walls are entirely of stone; many have, at intervals of about three feet, thin layers of planks placed in the wall, and these, the

[p.11] Arabs imagine, tend to increase its strength. When the walls are plastered, the wood is left of its natural colour, which gives to the whole a gay and pleasing appearance, as if the building had been ornamented with so many bands; but the dazzling white of the walls during sun-shine is extremely distressing to the eyes. Most of the gateways have pointed arches; some few round; and the latter are seen, though less frequently, over the gates of private houses in every part of Egypt. No buildings of ancient date are observed in Djidda, the madrepore being of such a nature that it rapidly decays when exposed to the rain and moist atmosphere prevalent here. [In general, it may be said that Djidda is a modern town; for its importance as a market of Indian goods can only be traced to the beginning of the fifteenth century, although it had been known in the most ancient times of Arabian history as the harbour of Mekka.] Besides many small mosques, there are two of considerable size: one of these was built by Sherif Serour, predecessor of the last reigning Sherif Ghaleb. The Governor’s habitation, in which the Sherif himself frequently resided, is a paltry building; such, likewise, is that in which dwells the collector of the customs. There are some well-built public khans in the town, with good accommodation, where the foreign merchants reside during their short stay here. In these khans are large open squares with arched passages, which afford a cool shade to the merchants for the greater part of the day. Except during the monsoon, when Djidda is extremely crowded with people, private lodgings may easily be procured in the most distant quarters of the town. The best private dwellings of Djidda belong to the great mercantile establishment of Djeylani, who, with his family, occupies a small square behind the principal street. This square is composed of three large buildings, the most commodious and costly private houses in all the Hedjaz. Every house of moderate size has its cistern; but as the rains are not sufficiently regular or abundant to fill the cisterns from the tops of the houses, (as

[p.12] throughout Syria,) they are often supplied with water from pools formed outside of the town in rainy seasons.

Of these cisterns, the water is very inadequate to the consumption of Djidda, and is reckoned a delicacy. Much of the drinking water is drawn from some wells a mile and a half distant on the southern side; water, indeed, may be found every where at a depth of fifteen feet, but it is generally of a bad taste, and in some places scarcely drinkable. Two only of the wells afford water that can be called sweet; but even this is considered heavy, [Heavy and light, applied to water, are expressions common in most languages of the East, where both natives and foreigners, from the vast quantity which they consume, become more refined in their taste regarding it than the people of our northern climates.] and, if suffered to stand twenty-four hours in a vessel, it becomes full of insects. The good water of these two wells being scarce and dear, cannot always be procured without the assistance of powerful friends; in fact, not more than from two to three hundred persons are ever able to obtain it, while the rest of the inhabitants must content themselves with the water supplied by other wells; and to this the constant ill-health of the people may chiefly be ascribed. As Djidda has the name of a Turkish fortress, we might suppose that the wells would have been protected by a fort; but the Turks have neglected this precaution, and when, in December, 1814, the people apprehended that the Wahabis were advancing on the side of Gonfady, the Governor of Djidda, in great haste, filled the few cisterns belonging to the government houses with water from the wells, and for several days withheld that necessary of life from all the inhabitants, as every water-camel was employed by him. Several of the wells are private property, and yield to their owners a considerable income.

The town of Djidda is without gardens, or vegetation of any kind except a few date-trees adjoining one of the mosques; even outside the town the whole country is a barren desert, covered

[p.13] on the sea-shore with a saline earth, and higher up with sand: here are found some shrubs and a few low acacia trees. The number of wells around the town might be considerably augmented, and water obtained for the purposes of irrigation; but the inhabitants of Djidda consider their residence as merely temporary, and, like all the other people of the Hedjaz, devote their whole attention to commerce and the acquisition of riches: on this account they are much less inclined to rural enjoyments or occupations than any other race of Moslems that I ever saw.

Beyond the Báb Mekka, and close to the town, are several huts, through the midst of which lies the road to Mekka. These huts are inhabited by the camel-drivers who traffic between that city and Djidda; by poor Bedouins, who earn a livelihood by cutting wood at a considerable distance in the mountains; and by Negro Hadjis, who adopt the same means of supporting themselves during their stay at Djidda. Here is held the market for live cattle, wood and charcoal, fruits and vegetables in wholesale. Coffee also is sold in many booths in this place, frequented for a short time, at an early hour, by the inferior class of merchants, who resort hither to learn the news from Mekka, whence the post arrives every morning soon after sunrise. About a mile beyond these huts, eastward of the town, is the principal burial-ground, containing the tombs of several sheikhs; but there are smaller cemeteries within the walls. About two miles northward of the town, is shown the tomb of Howa (Eve), the mother of mankind; it is, as I was informed, a rude structure of stone, about four feet in length, two or three feet in height, and as many in breadth; thus resembling the tomb of Noah, seen in the valley of Bekaa, in Syria.

During the predominance of the Wahabis, Djidda had been in a declining state; many of its buildings had gone to ruin; no one constructed a new house; trade was much depressed, in consequence of the pilgrimage from Turkey having been discontinued, and the unwillingness of the merchants to bring their goods hither

[p.14] for sale. Since the recovery of the holy cities, however, and the re-establishment of the pilgrimage, together with the daily arrival of soldiers, and a number of merchants and followers of the army, the town has quickly recovered its former condition, and is now as flourishing as at any former period. The number of its inhabitants may be estimated, generally, at from twelve to fifteen thousand; but in the months preceding the pilgrimage, and again during the summer months corresponding with the monsoon winds, there is a great influx of strangers, which increases the above number perhaps one-half.

The inhabitants of Djidda, like those of Mekka and Medina, are almost exclusively foreigners. The descendants of the ancient Arabs who once peopled the town, have perished by the hands of the governors, or have retired to other countries. Those who can be truly called natives are only a few families of sherifs, who are all learned men, and attached to the mosques or the courts of justice; all the other Djiddawys (people of Ddjidda) are foreigners or their descendants. Of the latter, those from Hadramaut and Yemen are the most numerous: colonies from every town and province of those countries are settled in Djidda, and keep up an active commerce with their native places. Upwards of a hundred Indian families (chiefly from Surat, and a few from Bombay,) have also established themselves here; and to these may be added some Malays and people of Maskat. The settlers from Egypt, Syria, Barbary, European Turkey, and Anatolia, may be still recognised in the features of their descendants, who are all mixed in one general mass, and live and dress in the same Arab manner. The Indians alone remain a distinct race in manners, dress, and employment. There are no Christians settled in Djidda; but a few Greeks from the islands of the Archipelago occasionally bring merchandize to this market from Egypt. In the time of the sherifs they were much molested, compelled to wear a particular dress, and prohibited from approaching the Mekka gate; but the Turks having become

[p.15] masters of the Hedjaz, abolished these restrictions, and a Christian now enjoys complete liberty here: if he dies, he is not buried on shore, (this being sanctified ground, belonging to the holy city,) but upon some one of the small islands in the bay of Djidda. Jews were formerly the brokers of this town; but they were driven out, about thirty or forty years since, by Serour, the predecessor of Ghaleb, some of them having offended by their misconduct. They all retired to Yemen or to Sanaa. During the monsoons some Banians visit Djidda in the Indian ships; but they always return with them, and none are settled here.