Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah & Meccah by Sir Richard Francis Burton

Scanned and proofread by William Thierens and Robert Sinton

PERSONAL NARRATIVE OF A PILGRIMAGE TO AL-MADINAH & MECCAH

BY

CAPTAIN SIR RICHARD F. BURTON,

K.C.M.G., F.R.G.S., &c., &c., &c.

EDITED BY HIS WIFE, ISABEL BURTON.

“Our notions of Mecca must be drawn from the Arabians; as no unbeliever is permitted to enter the city, our travellers are silent.”—Gibbon, chap. 50.

MEMORIAL EDITION.

IN TWO VOLUMES

VOLUME II.

[p.xii]
[Arabic]
Dark and the Desert and Destriers me ken, And the Glaive and the Joust, and Paper and Pen. Al-Mutanabbi

PART II.

AL-MADINAH.
(Continued.)

[p.1]
A PILGRIMAGE

TO

AL-MADINAH AND MECCAH.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE PEOPLE OF AL-MADINAH.

AL-MADINAH contains but few families descended from the Prophet’s Auxiliaries. I heard only of four whose genealogy is undoubted. These were,—

1. The Bayt al-Ansari, or descendants of Abu Ayyub, a most noble race whose tree ramifies through a space of fifteen hundred years. They keep the keys of the Kuba Mosque, and are Imams in the Harim, but the family is no longer wealthy or powerful.

2. The Bayt Abu Jud: they supply the Harim with Imams and Mu’ezzins.[FN#l] I was told that there are now but two surviving members of this family, a boy and a girl.

3. The Bayt al-Sha’ab, a numerous race. Some of the members travel professionally, others trade, and others are employed in the Harim.

4. The Bayt al-Karrani, who are mostly engaged in commerce.

There is also a race called Al-Nakhawilah,[FN#2] who,

[p.2]according to some, are descendants of the Ansar, whilst others derive them from Yazid, the son of Mu’awiyah: the latter opinion is improbable, as the Caliph in question was a mortal foe to Ali’s family, which is inordinately venerated by these people. As far as I could ascertain, they abuse the Shaykhayn (Abu Bakr and Omar): all my informants agreed upon this point, but none could tell me why they neglected to bedevil Osman, the third object of hatred to the Shi’ah persuasion. They are numerous and warlike, yet they are despised by the townspeople, because they openly profess heresy, and are moreover of humble degree. They have their own priests and instructors, although subject to the orthodox Kazi; marry in their own sect, are confined to low offices, such as slaughtering animals, sweeping, and gardening, and are not allowed to enter the Harim during life, or to be carried to it after death. Their corpses are taken down an outer street called the Darb al-Janazah—Road of Biers—to their own cemetery near Al-Bakia. They dress and speak Arabic, like the townspeople; but the Arabs pretend to distinguish them by a peculiar look denoting their degradation: it is doubtless the mistake of effect for cause, about all such

“Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast.” number of reports are current about the horrid

[p.3]customs of these people, and their community of women[FN#3] with the Persian pilgrims who pass through the town. It need scarcely be said that such tales coming from the mouths of fanatic foes are not to be credited. I regret not having had an opportunity to become intimate with any of the Nakhawilah, from whom curious information might be elicited. Orthodox Moslems do not like to be questioned about such hateful subjects; when I attempted to learn something from one of my acquaintance, Shaykh Ula al-Din, of a Kurd family, settled at Al-Madinah, a man who had travelled over the East, and who spoke five languages to perfection, he coldly replied that he had never consorted with these heretics. Sayyids and Sharifs,[FN#4] the descendants of the Prophet, here abound. The Benu Hosayn of Al-Madinah have their head-quarters at Suwayrkiyah:[FN#5] the former place contains six or seven families; the latter, ninety-three or ninety-four. Anciently they were much more numerous, and such was their power, that for centuries they retained charge of the Prophet’s tomb. They

[p.4]subsist principally upon their Amlak, property in land, for which they have title-deeds extending back to Mohammed’s day, and Aukaf, religious bequests; popular rumour accuses them of frequent murders for the sake of succession. At Al-Madinah they live chiefly at the Hosh Ibn Sa’ad, a settlement outside the town and south of the Darb al-Janazah. There is, however, no objection to their dwelling within the walls; and they are taken to the Harim after death, if there be no evil report against the individual. Their burial-place is the Bakia cemetery. The reason of this toleration is, that some are supposed to be Sunni, or orthodox, and even the most heretical keep their “Rafz[FN#6]” (heresy) a profound secret. Most learned Arabs believe that they belong, like the Persians, to the sect of Ali: the truth, however, is so vaguely known, that I could find out none of the peculiarities of their faith, till I met a Shirazi friend at Bombay. The Benu Hosayn are spare dark men of Badawi appearance, and they dress in the old Arab style still affected by the Sharifs,—a Kufiyah (kerchief) on the head,[FN#7] and a Banish, a long and wide-sleeved garment resembling our magicians’ gown, thrown over the white cotton Kamis (shirt): in public they always carry swords, even when others leave weapons at home. There are about two hundred families of Sayyid Alawiyah,—descendants of Ali by any of his wives but Fatimah, they bear no distinctive mark in dress or appearance, and are either employed at the

[p.5]temple or engage at trade. Of the Khalifiyah, or descendants of Abbas, there is, I am told, but one household, the Bayt Al-Khalifah, who act as Imams in the Harim, and have charge of Hamzah’s tomb. Some declare that there are a few of the Siddikiyah, or descendants from Abu Bakr; others ignore them, and none could give me any information about the Benu Najjar.

The rest of the population of Al-Madinah is a motley race composed of offshoots from every nation in Al-Islam. The sanctity of the city attracts strangers, who, purposing to stay but a short time, become residents; after finding some employment, they marry, have families, die, and are buried there with an eye to the spiritual advantages of the place. I was much importuned to stay at Al-Madinah. The only known physician was one Shaykh Abdullah Sahib, an Indian, a learned man, but of so melancholic a temperament, and so ascetic in his habits, that his knowledge was entirely lost to the public. “Why dost thou not,” said my friends, “hire a shop somewhere near the Prophet’s Mosque? There thou wilt eat bread by thy skill, and thy soul will have the blessing of being on holy ground.” Shaykh Nur also opined after a short residence at Al-Madinah that it was bara jannati Shahr, a “very heavenly City,” and little would have induced him to make it his home. The present ruling race at Al-Madinah, in consequence of political vicissitudes, is the “Sufat,[FN#8]” sons of Turkish fathers by Arab mothers. These half-castes are now numerous, and have managed to secure the highest and most lucrative offices. Besides Turks, there are families originally from the Maghrib, Takruris, Egyptians in considerable numbers, settlers from Al-Yaman and other parts of Arabia, Syrians, Kurds, Afghans, Daghistanis from the Caucasus, and a few Jawis—Java Moslems. The Sindis, I was told, reckon about one hundred families, who are exceedingly despised for their

[p.6]cowardice and want of manliness, whilst the Baluch and the Afghan are respected. The Indians are not so numerous in proportion here as at Meccah; still Hindustani is by no means uncommonly heard in the streets. They preserve their peculiar costume, the women persisting in showing their faces, and in wearing tight, exceedingly tight, pantaloons. This, together with other reasons, secures for them the contempt of the Arabs. At Al-Madinah they are generally small shopkeepers, especially druggists and sellers of Kumash (cloth), and they form a society of their own. The terrible cases of misery and starvation which so commonly occur among the improvident Indians at Jeddah and Meccah are here rare.

The Hanafi school holds the first rank at Al-Madinah, as in most parts of Al-Islam, although many of the citizens, and almost all the Badawin, are Shafe’is. The reader will have remarked with astonishment that at one of the fountain-heads of the faith, there are several races of schismatics, the Benu Hosayn, the Benu Ali, and the Nakhawilah. At the town of Safra there are said to be a number of the Zuyud schismatics,[FN#9] who visit Al-Madinah, and have settled in force at Meccah, and some declare that the Bayazi sect[FN#10] also exists.

The citizens of Al-Madinah are a favoured race, although the city is not, like Meccah, the grand mart of the Moslem world or the meeting-place of nations. They pay no taxes, and reject the idea of a “Miri,” or land-cess, with extreme disdain. “Are we, the children of the Prophet,” they exclaim, “to support or to be supported?” The Wahhabis, not understanding the argument, taxed them,

[p.7]as was their wont, in specie and in materials, for which reason the very name of those Puritans is an abomination. As has before been shown, all the numerous attendants at the Mosque are paid partly by the Sultan, partly by Aukaf, the rents of houses and lands bequeathed to the shrine, and scattered over every part of the Moslem world. When a Madani is inclined to travel, he applies to the Mudir al-Harim, and receives from him a paper which entitles him to the receipt of a considerable sum at Constantinople. “The “Ikram” (honorarium), as it is called, varies with the rank of the recipient, the citizens being divided into these four orders, viz.

First and highest, the Sadat (Sayyids),[FN#11] and Ima[m]s, who are entitled to twelve purses, or about £60. Of these there are said to be three hundred families.

The Khanahdan, who keep open house and receive poor strangers gratis. Their Ikram amounts to eight purses, and they number from a hundred to a hundred and fifty families.

The Ahali[FN#12] (burghers) or Madani properly speaking, who have homes and families, and were born in Al-Madinah. They claim six purses.

The Mujawirin, strangers, as Egyptians or Indians, settled at, though not born in, Al-Madinah. Their honorarium is four purses.

The Madani traveller, on arrival at Constantinople, reports his arrival to his Consul, the Wakil al-Haramayn. This “Agent of the two Holy Places” applies to the Nazir al-Aukaf, or “Intendant of Bequests”; the latter,

[p.8]after transmitting the demand to the different officers of the treasury, sends the money to the Wakil, who delivers it to the applicant. This gift is sometimes squandered in pleasure, more often profitably invested either in merchandise or in articles of home-use, presents of dress and jewellery for the women, handsome arms, especially pistols and Balas[FN#13] (yataghans), silk tassels, amber pipe-pieces, slippers, and embroidered purses. They are packed up in one or two large Sahharahs, and then commences the labour of returning home gratis. Besides the Ikram, most of the Madani, when upon these begging trips, are received as guests by great men at Constantinople. The citizens whose turn it is not to travel, await the Aukaf and Sadakat (bequests and alms),[FN#14] forwarded every year by the Damascus Caravan; besides which, as has been before explained, the Harim supplies even those not officially employed in it with many perquisites.

Without these advantages Al-Madinah would soon be abandoned to cultivators and Badawin. Though commerce is here honourable, as everywhere in the East, business is “slack,[FN#15]” because the higher classes prefer the idleness of administering their landed estates, and being servants to the Mosque. I heard of only four respectable houses, Al-Isawi, Al-Sha’ab, Abd al-Jawwad, and a family from Al-Shark (the Eastern Region).[FN#16] They all deal in grain, cloth, and provisions, and perhaps the richest have a capital of twenty thousand dollars. Caravans in

[p.9]the cold weather are constantly passing between Al-Madinah and Egypt, but they are rather bodies of visitors to Constantinople than traders travelling for gain. Corn is brought from Jeddah by land, and imported into Yambu’ or via Al-Rais, a port on the Red Sea, one day and a half’s journey from Safra. There is an active provision trade with the neighbouring Badawin, and the Syrian Hajj supplies the citizens with apparel and articles of luxury—tobacco, dried fruits, sweetmeats, knives, and all that is included under the word “notions.” There are few store-keepers, and their dealings are petty, because articles of every kind are brought from Egypt, Syria, and Constantinople. As a general rule, labour is exceedingly expensive,[FN#17] and at the Visitation time a man will demand fifteen or twenty piastres from a stranger for such a trifling job as mending an umbrella. Handicraftsmen and artisans—carpenters, masons, locksmiths, potters, and others—are either slaves or foreigners, mostly Egyptians.[FN#18] This proceeds partly from the pride of the people. They are taught from their childhood that the Madani is a favoured being, to be respected however vile or schismatic; and that the vengeance of Allah will fall upon any one who ventures to abuse, much more to strike him.[FN#19] They receive a stranger at the shop window with the haughtiness of Pashas, and take pains to show him, by words as well as by looks, that they consider themselves as

[p.10]“good gentlemen as the king, only not so rich.” Added to this pride are indolence, and the true Arab prejudice, which, even in the present day, prevents a Badawi from marrying the daughter of an artisan. Like Castilians, they consider labour humiliating to any but a slave; nor is this, as a clever French author remarks, by any means an unreasonable idea, since Heaven, to punish man for disobedience, caused him to eat daily bread by the sweat of his brow. Besides, there is degradation, moral and physical, in handiwork compared with the freedom of the Desert. The loom and the file do not conserve courtesy and chivalry like the sword and spear; man “extends his tongue,” to use an Arab phrase, when a cuff and not a stab is to be the consequence of an injurious expression. Even the ruffian becomes polite in California, where his brother-ruffian carries his revolver, and those European nations who were most polished when every gentleman wore a rapier, have become the rudest since Civilisation disarmed them.

By the tariff quoted below it will be evident that Al-Madinah is not a cheap place.[FN#20] Yet the citizens,

[p.11]despite their being generally in debt, manage to live well. Their cookery, like that of Meccah, has borrowed something from Egypt, Turkey, Syria, Persia, and India: as all Orientals, they are exceedingly fond of clarified butter.[FN#21]

[p.12]I have seen the boy Mohammed drink off nearly a tumbler-full, although his friends warned him that it would make him as fat as an elephant. When a man cannot enjoy clarified butter in these countries, it is considered a sign that his stomach is out of order, and all my excuses of a melancholic temperament were required to be in full play to prevent the infliction of fried meat swimming in grease, or that guest-dish,[FN#22] rice saturated with melted—perhaps I should say—rancid butter. The “Samn” of Al-Hijaz, however, is often fresh, being brought in by the Badawin; it has not therefore the foul flavour derived from the old and impregnated skin-bag which distinguishes the “ghi” of India.[FN#23] The house of a Madani in good circumstances is comfortable, for the building is substantial, and the attendance respectable. Black slave-girls here perform the complicated duties of servant-maids in England; they are taught to sew, to cook, and to wash, besides sweeping the house and drawing water for domestic use. Hasinah (the “Charmer,” a decided misnomer) costs from $40 to $50; if she be a mother, her value is less; but neat-handedness, propriety of demeanour, and skill in feminine accomplishments, raise her to $100=£25. A little black boy, perfect in all his points, and tolerably intelligent, costs about a thousand piastres; girls are dearer, and eunuchs fetch double that sum. The older the children become, the

[p.13]more their value diminishes; and no one would purchase[,] save under exceptional circumstances, an adult slave, because he is never parted with but for some incurable vice. The Abyssinian, mostly Galla, girls, so much prized because their skins are always cool in the hottest weather, are here rare; they seldom sell for less than £20, and they often fetch £60. I never heard of a Jariyah Bayza, a white slave girl, being in the market at Al-Madinah: in Circassia they fetch from £100 to £400 prime cost, and few men in Al-Hijaz could afford so expensive a luxury. The Bazar at Al-Madinah is poor, and as almost all the slaves are brought from Meccah by the Jallabs, or drivers, after exporting the best to Egypt, the town receives only the refuse.[FN#24]

The personal appearance of the Madani makes the stranger wonder how this mongrel population of settlers has acquired a peculiar and almost an Arab physiognomy. They are remarkably fair, the effect of a cold climate; sometimes the cheeks are lighted up with red, and the hair is a dark chestnut—at Al-Madinah I was not stared at as a white man. The cheeks and different parts of the children’s bodies are sometimes marked with Mashali or Tashrih, not the three long stripes of the Meccans,[FN#25] but little scars generally in threes. In some points they approach very near the true Arab type, that is to say, the Badawi of ancient and noble family. The cheek-bones are high and saillant, the eye small, more round than long,

[p.14] piercing, fiery, deep-set, and brown rather than black. The head is small, the ears well-cut, the face long and oval, though not unfrequently disfigured by what is popularly called the “lantern-jaw”; the forehead high, bony, broad, and slightly retreating, and the beard and mustachios scanty, consisting of two tufts upon the chin, with, generally speaking, little or no whisker. These are the points of resemblance between the city and the country Arab. The difference is equally remarkable. The temperament of the Madani is not purely nervous, like that of the Badawi, but admits a large admixture of the bilious, and, though rarely, the lymphatic. The cheeks are fuller, the jaws project more than in the pure race, the lips are more fleshy, more sensual and ill-fitting; the features are broader, and the limbs are stouter and more bony. The beard is a little thicker, and the young Arabs of the towns are beginning to imitate the Turks in that abomination to their ancestors—shaving. Personal vanity, always a ruling passion among Orientals, and a hopeless wish to emulate the flowing beards of the Turks and the Persians—perhaps the only nations in the world who ought not to shave the chin—have overruled even the religious objections to such innovation. I was more frequently appealed to at Al-Madinah than anywhere else, for some means of removing the opprobrium “Kusah,” or scant-bearded man. They blacken the beard with gall-nuts, henna, and other preparations, especially the Egyptian mixture, composed of sulphate of iron one part, ammoniure of iron one part, and gall-nuts two parts, infused in eight parts of distilled water. It is a very bad dye. Much refinement of dress is now found at Al-Madinah,—Constantinople, the Paris of the East, supplying it with the newest fashions. Respectable men wear either a Benish or a Jubbah; the latter, as at Meccah, is generally of some light and flashy colour, gamboge, yellow, tender green, or bright pink.

[p.15]This is the sign of a “dressy” man. If you have a single coat, it should be of some modest colour, as a dark violet; to appear always in the same tender green, or bright pink, would excite derision. But the Hijazis, poor and rich, always prefer these tulip tints. The proper Badan, or long coat without sleeves, still worn in truly Arab countries, is here confined to the lowest classes. That ugliest of head-dresses, the red Tunisian cap, called “Tarbush,[FN#26]” is much used, only the Arabs have too much regard for their eyes and faces to wear it, as the Turks do, without a turband. It is with regret that one sees the most graceful head-gear imaginable, the Kufiyah and the Aakal, proscribed except amongst the Sharifs and the Badawin. The women dress, like the men, handsomely. Indoors they wear, I am told, a Sudayriyah, or boddice of calico and other stuffs, like the Choli of India, which supports the bosom without the evils of European stays. Over this is a Saub, or white shirt, of the white stuff called Halaili or Burunjuk, with enormous sleeves, and flowing down to the feet; the Sarwal or pantaloons are not wide, like the Egyptians’, but rather tight, approaching to the Indian cut, without its exaggeration.[FN#27] Abroad, they throw over the head a silk or a cotton Milayah, generally chequered white and blue. The Burka (face-veil), all over Al-Hijaz is white, a decided improvement in point of cleanliness upon that of Egypt. Women of all ranks die the soles of the feet and the palms of the hands black; and trace thin lines down the inside of the

[p.16]fingers, by first applying a plaster of henna and then a mixture, called “Shadar,” of gall-nuts, alum, and lime. The hair[,] parted in the centre, is plaited into about twenty little twists called Jadilah.[FN#28] Of ornaments, as usual among Orientals, they have a vast variety, ranging from brass and spangles to gold and precious stones; and they delight in strong perfumes, musk, civet, ambergris, attar of rose, oil of jasmine, aloe-wood, and extract of cinnamon. Both sexes wear Constantinople slippers. The women draw on Khuff, inner slippers, of bright yellow leather, serving for socks, and covering the ankle, with Papush of the same material, sometimes lined with velvet and embroidered with a gold sprig under the hollow of the foot. In mourning the men show no difference of dress, like good Moslems, to whom such display of grief is forbidden. But the women, who cannot dissociate the heart and the toilette, evince their sorrow by wearing white clothes and by doffing their ornaments. This is a modern custom: the accurate Burckhardt informs us that in his day the women of Al-Madinah did not wear mourning.

The Madani generally appear abroad on foot. Few animals are kept here, on account, I suppose, of the expense of feeding them. The Cavalry are mounted on poor Egyptian nags. The horses generally ridden by rich men are generally Nijdi, costing from $200 to $300. Camels are numerous, but those bred in Al-Hijaz are small, weak, and consequently little prized. Dromedaries of good breed, called Ahrar[FN#29] (the noble) and Namani, from the place of that name, are to be had for any sum between $10 and $400; they are diminutive, but exceedingly swift, surefooted, sagacious, thoroughbred, with eyes like the

[p.17]antelope’s, and muzzles that would almost enter a tumbler. Mules are not found at Al-Madinah, although popular prejudice does not now forbid the people to mount them. Asses come from Egypt and Meccah: I am told that some good animals are to be found in the town, and that certain ignoble Badawi clans have a fine breed, but I never saw any. Of beasts intended for food, the sheep is the only common one in this part of Al-Hijaz. There are three distinct breeds. The larger animal comes from Nijd and the Anizah Badawin, who drive a flourishing trade; the smaller is a native of the country. Both are the common Arab species, of a tawny colour, with a long fat tail. Occasionally one meets with what at Aden is called the Berberah sheep, a totally different beast,—white, with a black broad face, a dew-lap, and a short fat tail, that looks as if twisted up into a knot: it was doubtless introduced by the Persians. Cows are rare at Al-Madinah. Beef throughout the East is considered an unwholesome food, and the Badawi will not drink cow’s milk, preferring that of the camel, the ewe, and the goat. The flesh of the latter animal is scarcely ever eaten in the city, except by the poorest classes.

The manners of the Madani are graver and somewhat more pompous than those of any Arabs with whom I ever mixed. This they appear to have borrowed from their rulers, the Turks. But their austerity and ceremoniousness are skin-deep. In intimacy or in anger the garb of politeness is thrown off, and the screaming Arab voice, the voluble, copious, and emphatic abuse, and the mania for gesticulation, return in all their deformity. They are great talkers as the following little trait shows. When a man is opposed to more than his match in disputing or bargaining, instead of patiently saying to himself, S’il crache il est mort, he interrupts the adversary with a Sall’ ala Mohammed,—Bless the Prophet. Every good Moslem is obliged to obey such requisition by responding, Allahumma

[p.18] salli alayh,—O Allah bless him! But the Madani curtails the phrase to “A’n,[FN#30]” supposing it to be an equivalent, and proceeds in his loquacity. Then perhaps the baffled opponent will shout out Wahhid, i.e., “Attest the unity of the Deity”; when, instead of employing the usual religious phrases to assert that dogma, he will briefly ejaculate “Al,” and hurry on with the course of conversation. As it may be supposed, these wars of words frequently end in violent quarrels; for, to do the Madani justice, they are always ready to fight. The desperate old feud between the “Juwwa,” and the “Barra,”—the town and the suburbs—has been put down with the greatest difficulty. The boys, indeed, still keep it up, turning out in bodies and making determined onslaughts with sticks and stones.[FN#31]

It is not to be believed that in a town garrisoned by Turkish troops, full of travelled traders, and which supports itself by plundering Hajis, the primitive virtues of the Arab could exist. The Meccans, a dark people, say of the Madani, that their hearts are black as their skins are white.[FN#32] This is, of course, exaggerated; but it is not too

[p.19] much to assert that pride, pugnacity, a peculiar point of honour and a vindictiveness of wonderful force and patience, are the only characteristic traits of Arab character which the citizens of Al-Madinah habitually display. Here you meet with scant remains of the chivalry of the Desert. A man will abuse his guest, even though he will not dine without him, and would protect him bravely against an enemy. And words often pass lightly between individuals which suffice to cause a blood feud amongst Badawin. The outward appearance of decorum is conspicuous amongst the Madani. There are no places where Corinthians dwell, as at Meccah, Cairo, and Jeddah. Adultery, if detected, would be punished by lapidation according to the rigour of the Koranic law[FN#33]; and simple immorality by religious stripes, or, if of repeated occurrence, by expulsion from the city. But scandals seldom occur, and the women, I am told, behave with great decency.[FN#34] Abroad, they have the usual Moslem

[p.20]pleasures of marriage, lyings-in, circumcision feasts, holy isitations, and funerals. At home, they employ themselves with domestic matters, and especially in scolding “Hasinah” and “Za’afaran.” In this occupation they surpass even the notable English housekeeper of the middle orders of society—the latter being confined to “knagging” at her slavey, whereas the Arab lady is allowed an unbounded extent of vocabulary. At Shaykh Hamid’s house, however, I cannot accuse the women of

“Swearing into strong shudders
The immortal gods who heard them.”

They abused the black girls with unction, but without any violent expletives. At Meccah, however, the old lady in whose house I was living would, when excited by the melancholy temperament of her eldest son and his irregular hours of eating, scold him in the grossest terms, not unfrequently ridiculous in the extreme. For instance, one of her assertions was that he—the son—was the offspring of an immoral mother; which assertion, one might suppose, reflected not indirectly upon herself. So in Egypt I have frequently heard a father, when reproving his boy, address him by “O dog, son of a dog!” and “O spawn of an Infidel—of a Jew—of a Christian!” Amongst the men of Al-Madinah I remarked a considerable share of hypocrisy. Their mouths were as full of religious salutations, exclamations, and hackneyed quotations from the Koran, as of indecency and vile abuse—a point in which they resemble the Persians. As before

[p.21] observed, they preserve their reputation as the sons of a holy city by praying only in public. At Constantinople they are by no means remarkable for sobriety. Intoxicating liquors, especially Araki, are made in Al-Madinah, only by the Turks: the citizens seldom indulge in this way at home, as detection by smell is imminent among a people of water-bibbers. During the whole time of my stay I had to content myself with a single bottle of Cognac, coloured and scented to resemble medicine. The Madani are, like the Meccans, a curious mixture of generosity and meanness, of profuseness and penuriousness. But the former quality is the result of ostentation, the latter is a characteristic of the Semitic race, long ago made familiar to Europe by the Jew. The citizens will run deeply in debt, expecting a good season of devotees to pay off their liabilities, or relying upon the next begging trip to Turkey; and such a proceeding, contrary to the custom of the Moslem world, is not condemned by public opinion. Above all their qualities, personal conceit is remarkable: they show it in their strut, in their looks, and almost in every word. “I am such an one, the son of such an one,” is a common expletive, especially in times of danger; and this spirit is not wholly to be condemned, as it certainly acts as an incentive to gallant actions. But it often excites them to vie with one another in expensive entertainments and similar vanities. The expression, so offensive to English ears, Inshallah Bukra—Please God, tomorrow—always said about what should be done to-day, is here common as in Egypt or in India. This procrastination belongs more or less to all Orientals. But Arabia especially abounds in the Tawakkal al’ Allah, ya Shaykh!—Place thy reliance upon Allah, O Shaykh!—enjoined when a man should depend upon his own exertions. Upon the whole, however, though alive to the infirmities of the Madani character, I thought favourably of it, finding among this people more of the redeeming point, manliness,

[p.22]than in most Eastern nations with whom I am acquainted.

The Arabs, like the Egyptians, all marry. Yet, as usual, they are hard and facetious upon that ill-treated subject—matrimony. It has exercised the brain of their wits and sages, who have not failed to indite notable things concerning it. Saith “Harikar al-Hakim” [(]Dominie Do-All) to his nephew Nadan (Sir Witless), whom he would dissuade from taking to himself a wife, “Marriage is joy for a month and sorrow for a life, and the paying of settlements and the breaking of back (i.e. under the load of misery), and the listening to a woman’s tongue!” And again we have in verse:—

“They said ‘marry!’ I replied, ‘far be it from me To take to my bosom a sackful of snakes. I am free—why then become a slave?
May Allah never bless womankind!’”

And the following lines are generally quoted, as affording a kind of bird’s-eye view of female existence:—

“From 10 (years of age) unto 20,
A repose to the eyes of beholders.[FN#35] From 20 unto 30,
Still fair and full of flesh.
From 30 unto 40,
A mother of many boys and girls.
From 40 unto 50,
An old woman of the deceitful.
From 50 unto 60,
Slay her with a knife.
From 60 unto 70,
The curse of Allah upon them, one and all!”

Another popular couplet makes a most unsupported assertion:—

“They declare womankind to be heaven to man, I say, ‘Allah, give me Jahannam, and not this heaven.’”

Yet the fair sex has the laugh on its side, for these railers at Al-Madinah as at other places, invariably marry. The

[p.23]marriage ceremony is tedious and expensive. It begins with a Khitbah or betrothal: the father of the young man repairs to the parent or guardian of the girl, and at the end of his visit exclaims, “The Fatihah! we beg of your kindness your daughter for our son.” Should the other be favourable to the proposal, his reply is, “Welcome and congratulation to you: but we must perform Istikharah[FN#36] (religious lot casting)”; and, when consent is given, both pledge themselves to the agreement by reciting the Fatihah. Then commence negotiations about the Mahr or sum settled upon the bride[FN#37]; and after the smoothing of this difficulty follow feastings of friends and relatives, male and female. The marriage itself is called Akd al-Nikah or Ziwaj. A Walimah or banquet is prepared by the father of the Aris (groom), at his own house, and the Kazi attends to perform the nuptial ceremony, the girl’s consent being obtained through her Wakil, any male relation whom she commissions to act for her. Then, with great pomp and circumstance, the Aris visits his Arusah (bride) at her father’s house; and finally, with a Zuffah or procession and sundry ceremonies at the Harim, she is brought to her new home. Arab funerals are as simple as their marriages are complicated. Neither Naddabah (myriologist or hired keener), nor indeed any female, even a relation, is present at burials as in other parts of the Moslem world,[FN#38] and it is esteemed disgraceful

[p.24]for a man to weep aloud. The Prophet, ho doubtless had heard of those pagan mournings, where an effeminate and unlimited display of woe was often terminated by licentious excesses, like the Christian’s half-heathen “wakes,” forbad [a]ught beyond a decent demonstration of grief. And his strong good sense enabled him to see through the vanity of professional mourners. At Al-Madinah the corpse is interred shortly after decease. The bier is carried though the streets at a moderate pace, by friends and relatives,[FN#39] these bringing up the rear. Every man who passes lends his shoulder for a minute, a mark of respect to the dead, and also considered a pious and a prayerful act. Arrived at the Harim, they carry the corpse in visitation to the Prophet’s window, and pray over it at Osman’s niche. Finally, it is interred after the usual Moslem fashion in the cemetery Al-Bakia.

Al-Madinah, though pillaged by the Wahhabis, still abounds in books. Near the Harim are two Madrasah or colleges, the Mahmudiyah, so called from Sultan Mahmud, and that of Bashir Agha: both have large stores of theological and other works. I also heard of extensive private collections, particularly of one belonging to the Najib al-Ashraf, or chief of the Sharifs, a certain Mohammed Jamal al-Layl, whose father is well-known in India. Besides which, there is a large Wakf or bequest of books, presented to the Mosque or entailed upon particular families.[FN#40] The celebrated Mohammed Ibn Abdillah al-Sannusi[FN#41] has removed

[p.25] his collection, amounting, it is said, to eight thousand volumes, from Al-Madinah to his house in Jabal Kubays at Meccah. The burial-place of the Prophet, therefore, no longer lies open to the charge of utter ignorance brought against it by my predecessor.[FN#42] The people now praise their Olema for learning, and boast a superiority in respect of science over Meccah. Yet many students leave the place for Damascus and Cairo, where the Riwak al-Haramayn (College of the Two Shrines) in the Azhar Mosque University, is always crowded; and though Omar Effendi boasted to me that his city was full of lore, he did not appear the less anxious to attend the lectures of Egyptian professors. But none of my informants claimed for Al-Madinah any facilities of studying other than the purely religious sciences.[FN#43] Philosophy, medicine, arithmetic, mathematics, and algebra cannot be learnt here. I was careful to inquire about the occult sciences, remembering that Paracelsus had travelled in Arabia, and that the Count Cagliostro (Giuseppe Balsamo), who claimed the Meccan Sharif as his father, asserted that about A.D. 1765 he had studied alchemy at Al-Madinah. The only trace I could find was a superficial knowledge of the Magic Mirror. But after denying the Madani the praise of varied learning, it must be owned that their quick observation and retentive memories have stored up for

[p.26]them an abundance of superficial knowledge, culled from conversations in the market and in the camp. I found it impossible here to display those feats which in Sind, Southern Persia, Eastern Arabia, and many parts of India, would be looked upon as miraculous. Most probably one of the company had witnessed the performance of some Italian conjuror at Constantinople or Alexandria, and retained a lively recollection of every manœuvre. As linguists they are not equal to the Meccans, who surpass all Orientals excepting only the Armenians; the Madani seldom know Turkish, and more rarely still Persian and Indian. Those only who have studied in Egypt chaunt the Koran well. The citizens speak and pronounce[FN#44] their language purely; they are not equal to the people of the southern Hijaz, still their Arabic is refreshing after the horrors of Cairo and Maskat.

The classical Arabic, be it observed, in consequence of an extended empire, soon split up into various dialects, as the Latin under similar circumstances separated into the Neo-Roman patois of Italy, Sicily, Provence, and Languedoc. And though Niebuhr has been deservedly

[p.27]censured for comparing the Koranic language to Latin and the vulgar tongue to Italian, still there is a great difference between them, almost every word having undergone some alteration in addition to the manifold changes and simplifications of grammar and syntax. The traveller will hear in every part of Arabia that some distant tribe preserves the linguistic purity of its ancestors, uses final vowels with the noun, and rejects the addition of the pronoun which apocope in the verb now renders necessary.[FN#45] But I greatly doubt the existence of such a race of philologists. In Al-Hijaz, however, it is considered graceful in an old man, especially when conversing publicly, to lean towards classical Arabic. On the contrary, in a youth this would be treated as pedantic affectation, and condemned in some such satiric quotation as

“There are two things colder than ice, A young old man, and an old young man.”

[FN#1] Ibn Jubayr relates that in his day a descendant of Belal, the original Mu’ezzin of the Prophet, practised his ancestral profession at Al-Madinah.
[FN#2] This word is said to be the plural of Nakhwali,—one who cultivates the date tree, a gardener or farmer. No one could tell me whether these heretics had not a peculiar name for themselves. I hazard a conjecture that they may be identical with the Mutawalli (also written Mutawilah, Mutaalis, Metoualis, &c., &c.), the hardy, courageous, and hospitable mountaineers of Syria, and Cœlesyria Proper. This race of sectarians, about 35,000 in number, holds to the Imamship or supreme pontificate of Ali and his descendants. They differ, however, in doctrine from the Persians, believing in a transmigration of the soul, which, gradually purified, is at last “orbed into a perfect star.” They are scrupulous of caste, and will not allow a Jew or a Frank to touch a piece of their furniture: yet they erect guest-houses for Infidels. In this they resemble the Shi’ahs, who are far more particular about ceremonial purity than the Sunnis. They use ablutions before each meal, and herein remind us of the Hindus.
[FN#3] The communist principles of Mazdak the Persian (sixth century) have given his nation a permanent bad fame in this particular among the Arabs.
[FN#4] In Arabia the Sharif is the descendant of Hasan through his two sons, Zaid and Hasan al-Musanna: the Sayyid is the descendant of Hosayn through Zayn al-Abidin, the sole of twelve children who survived the fatal field of Kerbela. The former devotes himself to government and war; the latter, to learning and religion. In Persia and India, the Sharif is the son of a Sayyid woman and a common Moslem. The Sayyid “Nejib al-Taraf” (noble on one side) is the son of a Sayyid father and a common Moslemah. The Sayyid “Nejib al-Tarafayn” (noble on both sides) is one whose parents are both Sayyids.
[FN#5] Burckhardt alludes to this settlement when he says, “In the Eastern Desert, at three or four days’ journey from Medinah, lives a whole Bedouin tribe, called Beni Aly, who are all of this Persian creed.” I travelled to Suwayrkiyah, and found it inhabited by Benu Hosayn. The Benu Ali are Badawin settled at the Awali, near the Kuba Mosque: they were originally slaves of the great house of Auf, and are still heretical in their opinions.
[FN#6] “Refusing, rejecting.” Hence the origin of Rafizi,—“a rejector, a heretic.” “Inna rafaznahum,”—“verily we have rejected them,” (Abu Bakr, Omar, and Osman,) exclaim the Persians, glorying in the opprobrious epithet. [FN#7] Sayyids in Al-Hijaz, as a general rule, do not denote their descent by the green turband. In fact, most of them wear a red Kashmir shawl round the head, when able to afford the luxury. The green turband is an innovation in Al-Islam. In some countries it is confined to the Sayyids; in others it is worn as a mark of distinction by pilgrims. Khudabakhsh, the Indian, at Cairo generally dressed in a tender green suit like a Mantis.
[FN#8] Plural of Suftah—a half-caste Turk. [FN#9] Plural of Zaydi. These are well-known schismatics of the Shi’ah persuasion, who abound in Southern Arabia. [FN#10] The Bayazi sect flourishes near Maskat, whose Imam or Prince, it is said, belongs to the heretical persuasion. It rejects Osman, and advocates the superiority of Omar over the other two Caliphs. [FN#11] Sadat is the plural of Sayyid. This word in the Northern Hijaz is applied indifferently to the posterity of Hasan and Hosayn. [FN#12] The plural of Ahl, an inhabitant (of a particular place). The reader will excuse my troubling him with these terms. As they are almost all local in their application, and therefore are not explained in such restricted sense by lexicographers, the specification may not be useless to the Oriental student.
[FN#13] The Turkish “yataghan.” It is a long dagger, intended for thrusting rather than cutting, and has a curve, which, methinks, has been wisely copied by the Duke of Orleans, in the bayonet of the Chasseurs de Vincennes.
[FN#14] See chapter xvii.
[FN#15] Omar Effendi’s brothers, grandsons of the principal Mufti of Al-Madinah, were both shopkeepers, and were always exhorting him to do some useful work, rather than muddle his brains and waste his time on books.
[FN#16] See chapter xiv.
[FN#17] To a townsman, even during the dead season, the pay of a gardener would be 2 piastres, a carpenter 8 piastres per diem, and a common servant (a Bawwab or porter, for instance), 25 piastres per mensem, or £3 per annum, besides board and dress. Considering the value of money in the country, these are very high rates. [FN#18] Who alone sell milk, curds, or butter. The reason of their monopoly has been given in Chapter xiii. [FN#19] History informs us that the sanctity of their birth-place has not always preserved the people of Al-Madinah. But the memory of their misfortunes is soon washed away by the overwhelming pride of the race. [FN#20] The market is under the charge of an Arab Muhtasib or Bazar-master, who again is subject to the Muhafiz or Pasha governing the place. The following was the current price of provisions at Al-Madinah early in August, 1853: during the Visitation season everything is doubled:—
1 lb. mutton, 2 piastres, (beef is half-price, but seldom eaten; there is no buffalo meat, and only Badawin will touch the camel). A fowl, 5 piastres.
Eggs, in summer 8, in winter 4, for the piastre. 1 lb. clarified butter, 4 piastres, (when cheap it falls to 2 1/2 Butter is made at home by those who eat it, and sometimes by the Egyptians for sale).
1 lb. milk, 1 piastre.
1 lb. cheese, 2 piastres, (when cheap it is 1, when dear 3 piastres per lb.)
A Wheaten loaf weighing 12 dirhams, 10 parahs. (There are loaves of 24 dirhams, costing 1/2 piastre.)
1 lb. dry biscuits, (imported), 3 piastres. 1 lb. of vegetables, 1/2 piastre.
1 Mudd dates, varies according to quality from 4 piastres to 100. 1 lb. grapes, 1 1/2} piastre.
A lime, 1 parah.
A pomegranate, from 20 parahs to 1 piastre. A water-melon, from 3 to 6 piastres each. 1 lb. peaches, 2 piastres.
1 lb. coffee, 4 piastres, (the Yamani is the only kind drunk here). 1 lb. tea, 15 piastres, (black tea, imported from India). 1 lb. European loaf-sugar, 6 piastres, (white Egyptian, 5 piastres brown Egyptian, 3 piastres; brown Indian, for cooking and conserves, 3 piastres).
1 lb. spermaceti candles, 7 piastres, (called wax, and imported from Egypt).
1 lb. tallow candles, 3 piastres.
1 Ardeb wheat, 295 piastres.
1 Ardeb onions, 33 piastres, (when cheap 20, when dear 40). 1 Ardeb barley, 120 piastres, (minimum 90, maximum 180). 1 Ardeb rice, Indian, 302 piastres, (it varies from 260 to 350 piastres, according to quality).
Durrah or maize is generally given to animals, and is very cheap. Barsim (clover, a bundle of) 3 Wakkiyahs, (36 Dirhams), costs 1 parah. Adas or Lentil is the same price as rice. 1 lb. Latakia tobacco, 16 piastres.
1 lb. Syrian tobacco, 8 piastres.
1 lb. Tumbak (Persian), 6 piastres. 1 lb. olive oil, 6 piastres, (when cheap it is 4). A skin of water, 1/2 piastre.
Bag of charcoal, containing 100 Wukkah, 10 piastres. The best kind is made from an Acacia called “Samur.”
The Parah (Turkish), Faddah (Egyptian), or Diwani (Hijazi word), is the 40th part of a piastre, or nearly the quarter of a farthing. The piastre is about 2 and two-fifths pence. Throughout Al-Hijaz there is no want of small change, as in Egypt, where the deficiency calls for the attention of the Government.
[FN#21] Physiologists have remarked that fat and greasy food, containing a quantity of carbon, is peculiar to cold countries; whereas the inhabitants of the tropics delight in fruits, vegetables, and articles of diet which do not increase caloric. This must be taken cum grano. In Italy, Spain, and Greece, the general use of olive oil begins. In Africa and Asia—especially in the hottest parts—the people habitually eat enough clarified butter to satisfy an Esquimaux. [FN#22] In Persia, you jocosely say to a man, when he is threatened with a sudden inroad of guests, “Go and swamp the rice with Raughan (clarified butter).”
[FN#23] Among the Indians, ghi, placed in pots carefully stopped up and kept for years till a hard black mass only remains, is considered a panacea for diseases and wounds.
[FN#24] Some of these slaves come from Abyssinia: the greater part are driven from the Galla country, and exported at the harbours of the Somali coast, Berberah, Tajurrah, and Zayla. As many as 2000 slaves from the former place, and 4000 from the latter, are annually shipped off to Mocha, Jeddah, Suez, and Maskat. It is strange that the Imam of the latter place should voluntarily have made a treaty with us for the suppression of this vile trade, and yet should allow so extensive an importation to his dominions.
[FN#25] More will be said concerning the origin of this strange custom, when speaking of Meccah and the Meccans. [FN#26] The word Tarbush is a corruption from the Persian Sarpush,—“head-covering,” “head-dress.” The Anglo-Saxon further debases it to “Tarbush.” The other name for the Tarbush, “Fez,” denotes the place where the best were made. Some Egyptians distinguish between the two, calling the large high crimson cap “Fez,” the small one “Tarbush.” [FN#27] In India, as in Sind, a lady of fashion will sometimes be occupied a quarter of an hour in persuading her “bloomers” to pass over the region of the ankle.
[FN#28] In the plural called Jadail. It is a most becoming head-dress when the hair is thick, and when—which I regret to say is rare in Arabia—the twists are undone for ablution once a day. [FN#29] Plural of “Hurrah,” the free, the noble. [FN#30] See vol. i., p. 436, ante.
[FN#31] This appears to be, and to have been, a favourite weapon with the Arabs. At the battle of Ohod, we read that the combatants amused themselves with throwing stones. On our road to Meccah, the Badawi attacked a party of city Arabs, and the fight was determined with these harmless weapons. At Meccah, the men, as well as the boys, use them with as much skill as the Somalis at Aden. As regards these feuds between different quarters of the Arab towns, the reader will bear in mind that such things can co-exist with considerable amount of civilization. In my time, the different villages in the Sorrentine plain were always at war. The Irish still fight in bodies at Birkenhead. And in the days of our fathers, the gamins of London amused themselves every Sunday by pitched battles on Primrose Hill, and the fields about Marylebone and St. Pancras. [FN#32] Alluding especially to their revengefulness, and their habit of storing up an injury, and of forgetting old friendships or benefits, when a trivial cause of quarrel arises.
[FN#33] The sentence is passed by the Kazi: in cases of murder, he tries the criminal, and, after finding him guilty, sends him to the Pasha, who orders a Kawwas, or policeman, to strike off his head with a sword. Thieves are punished by mutilation of the hand. In fact, justice at Al-Madinah is administered in perfect conformity with the Shariat or Holy Law.
[FN#34] Circumcisio utriusque sexus apud Arabos mos est vetustissimus. Aiunt theologi mutilationis hujus religiosae inventricem esse Saram, Abrahami uxorem quae, zelotypia incitata, Hagaris amorem minuendi gratia, somnientis puellae clitoridem exstirpavit. Deinde, Allaho jubente, Sara et Abrahamus ambo pudendorum partem cultello abscissere. Causa autem moris in viro mundities salusque, in puella impudicitiae prophylactica esse videntur. Gentes Asiaticae sinistra tantum manu abluentes utuntur; omnes quoque feminarem decies magis quam virorum libidinem aestimant. (Clitoridem amputant, quia, ut monet Aristoteles, pars illa sedes est et scaturigo veneris—rem plane profanam cum Sonninio exclamemus!) Nec excogitare potuit philosophus quanti et quam portentosi sunt talis mutilationis effectus. Mulierum minuuntur affectus, amor, voluptas. Crescunt tamen feminini doli, crudelitas, vitia et insatiabilis luxuria. (Ita in Eunuchis nonnunquam, teste Abelardo, suberstat cerebelli potestas, quum cupidinis satiandi facultas plane discessit.) Virilis quoque circumcisio lentam venerem et difficilem efficit. Glandis enim mollities frictione induratur, dehinc coitus tristis, tardus parumque vehemens. Forsitan in quibusdam populis localis quoque causa existit; caruncula immoderate crescente, amputationis necessitas exurgit. Deinde apud Somalos, gentem Africanam, excisio nympharum abscissioni clitoridis adjungitur. “Feminina circumcisio in Kahira Egyptiana et El Hejazio mos est universalis. Gens Bedouina uxorem salvam ducere nolit.”—Shaykh al-Nawawi “de Uxore ducenda,” &c., &c.
[FN#35] A phrase corresponding with our “beaute du diable.” [FN#36] This means consulting the will of the Deity, by praying for a dream in sleep, by the rosary, by opening the Koran, and other such devices, which bear blame if a negative be deemed necessary. It is a custom throughout the Moslem world, a relic, doubtless, of the Azlam or Kidah (seven divining-arrows) of the Pagan times. At Al-Madinah it is generally called Khirah.
[FN#37] Among respectable citizens 400 dollars would be considered a fair average sum; the expense of the ceremony would be about half. This amount of ready money (£150) not being always procurable, many of the Madani marry late in life.
[FN#38] Boys are allowed to be present, but they are not permitted to cry. Of their so misdemeaning themselves there is little danger; the Arab in these matters is a man from his cradle. [FN#39] They are called the Asdikah; in the singular, Sadik. [FN#40] From what I saw at Al-Madinah, the people are not so unprejudiced on this point as the Cairenes, who think little of selling a book in Wakf. The subject of Wakf, however, is an extensive one, and does not wholly exclude the legality of sale. [FN#41] This Shaykh is a Maliki Moslem from Algiers, celebrated as an Alim (sage), especially in the mystic study Al-Jafr. He is a Wali or saint; but opinions differ as regards his Kiramat (saint’s miracles): some disciples look upon him as the Mahdi (the forerunner of the Prophet), others consider him a clever impostor. His peculiar dogma is the superiority of live over dead saints, whose tombs are therefore not to be visited—a new doctrine in a Maliki! Abbas Pasha loved and respected him, and, as he refused all presents, built him a new Zawiyah (oratory) at Bulak; and when the Egyptian ruler’s mother was at Al-Madinah, she called upon him three times, it is said, before he would receive her. His followers and disciples are scattered in numbers about Tripoli and, amongst other oases of the Fezzan, at Siwah, where they saved the Abbe Hamilton’s life in A.D[.] 1843.
[FN#42] Burckhardt’s Travels in Arabia, vol. ii. p. 174. [FN#43] Of which I have given an account in chapter xvi. [FN#44] The only abnormal sound amongst the consonants heard here and in Al-Hijaz generally is the pronouncing of k (A[rabic]) a hard g—for instance, “Gur’an” for “Kur’an” (a Koran), and Haggi or Hakki (my right). This g, however, is pronounced deep in the throat, and does not resemble the corrupt Egyptian pronunciation of the jim (j, [Arabic]), a letter which the Copts knew not, and which their modern descendants cannot articulate. In Al-Hijaz, the only abnormal sounds amongst the vowels are o for u, as Khokh, a peach, and [Arabic] for [Arabic], as Ohod for Uhud. The two short vowels fath and kasr are correctly pronounced, the former never becoming a short e, as in Egypt (El for Al and Yemen for Yaman), or a short i, as in Syria (“min” for “man” who? &c.) These vowels, however, are differently articulated in every part of the Arab world. So says St. Jerome of the Hebrew: “Nec refert atrum Salem aut Salim nominetur; cum vocalibus in medio literis perraro utantur Hebraei; et pro voluntate lectorum, ac varietate regionum, eadem verba diversis sonis atque accentibus proferantur.”
[FN#45] e.g., Ant Zarabt—thou struckedst—for Zarabta. The final vowel, suffering apocope, would leave “Zarabt” equally applicable to the first person singular and the second person singular masculine.

[p.28]CHAPTER XXII.

A VISIT TO THE SAINTS’ CEMETERY.

A splendid comet, blazing in the western sky, had aroused the apprehensions of the Madani. They all fell to predicting the usual disasters—war, famine, and pestilence,—it being still an article of Moslem belief that the Dread Star foreshows all manner of calamities. Men discussed the probability of Abd al-Majid’s immediate decease; for here as in Rome,

“When beggars die, there are no comets seen: The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes:”

and in every strange atmospheric appearance about the time of the Hajj, the Hijazis are accustomed to read tidings of the dreaded Rih al-Asfar.[FN#l]

Whether the event is attributable to the Zu Zuwabah—the “Lord of the Forelock,”—or whether it was a case of post hoc, ergò, propter hoc, I would not commit myself by deciding; but, influenced by some cause or other, the Hawazim and the Hawamid, sub-families of the Benu-Harb, began to fight about this time with prodigious fury. These tribes are generally at feud, and the least provocation fans their smouldering wrath into a flame. The Hawamid number, it is said, between three and four thousand fighting men, and the Hawazim not more than seven hundred: the latter however, are considered a race of desperadoes who pride themselves upon never retreating,

[p.29]and under their fiery Shaykhs, Abbas and Abu Ali, they are a thorn in the sides of their disproportionate foe. On the present occasion a Hamidah[FN#2] happened to strike the camel of a Hazimi which had trespassed; upon which the Hazimi smote the Hamidah, and called him a rough name. The Hamidah instantly shot the Hazimi, the tribes were called out, and they fought with asperity for some days. During the whole of the afternoon of Tuesday, the 30th of August, the sound of firing amongst the mountains was distinctly heard in the city. Through the streets parties of Badawin, sword and matchlock in hand, or merely carrying quarterstaves on their shoulders, might be seen hurrying along, frantic at the chance of missing the fray. The townspeople cursed them privily, expressing a hope that the whole race of vermin might consume itself. And the pilgrims were in no small trepidation, fearing the desertion of their camel-men, and knowing what a blaze is kindled in this inflammable land by an ounce of gunpowder. I afterwards heard that the Badawin fought till night, and separated after losing on both sides ten men.

This quarrel put an end to any lingering possibility of my prosecuting my journey to Maskat,[FN#3] as originally intended. I had on the way from Yambu’ to Al-Madinah privily made a friendship with one Mujrim of the Benu-Harb. The “Sinful,” as his name, ancient and classical amongst the Arabs, means, understood that I had some motive of secret interest to undertake the perilous journey. He could not promise at first to guide me, as his beat lay between Yambu’, Al-Madinah, Mec[c]ah, and Jeddah. But he offered to make all inquiries about the route, and to

[p.30] bring me the result at noonday, a time when the household was asleep. He had almost consented at last to travel with me about the end of August, in which case I should have slipped out of Hamid’s house and started like a Badawi towards the Indian Ocean. But when the war commenced, Mujrim, who doubtless wished to stand by his brethren the Hawazim, began to show signs of recusancy in putting off the day of departure to the end of September. At last, when pressed, he frankly told me that no traveller—nay, not a Badawi—could leave the city in that direction, even as far as historic Khaybar,[FN#4] which information I afterwards ascertained to be correct. It was impossible to start alone, and when in despair I had recourse to Shaykh Hamid, he seemed to think me mad for wishing to wend Northwards when all the world was hurrying towards the South. My disappointment was bitter at first, but consolation soon suggested itself. Under the most favourable circumstances, a Badawi-trip from Al-Madinah to Maskat, fifteen or sixteen hundred miles, would require at least ten months; whereas, under pain of losing my commission,[FN#5] I was ordered to be at Bombay before the end of March. Moreover, entering Arabia by Al-Hijaz, as has before been said, I was obliged to leave behind all my instruments except a watch and a pocket-compass, so the benefit rendered to geography by my trip would have been scanty. Still remained

[p.31] to me the comfort of reflecting that possibly at Meccah some opportunity of crossing the Peninsula might present itself. At any rate I had the certainty of seeing the strange wild country of the Hijaz, and of being present at the ceremonies of the Holy City. I must request the reader to bear with a Visitation once more: we shall conclude it with a ride to Al-Bakia.[FN#6] This venerable spot is frequented by the pious every day after the prayer at the Prophet’s Tomb, and especially on Fridays.

Our party started one morning,—on donkeys, as usual, for my foot was not yet strong,—along the Darb al-Janazah round the Southern wall of the town. The locomotion was decidedly slow, principally in consequence of the tent-ropes which the Hajis had pinned down literally all over the plain, and falls were by no means unfrequent. At last we arrived at the end of the Darb, where I committed myself by mistaking the decaying place of those miserable schismatics the Nakhawilah[FN#7] for Al-Bakia, the glorious cemetery of the Saints. Hamid corrected my blunder with tartness, to which I replied as tartly, that in our country—Afghanistan—we burned the body of every heretic upon whom we could lay our hands. This truly Islamitic custom was heard with general applause, and as the little dispute ended, we stood at the open gate of Al-Bakia. Then having dismounted I sat down on a low Dakkah or stone bench within the walls, to obtain a general view and to prepare for the most fatiguing of the Visitations.

There is a tradition that seventy thousand, or according to others a hundred thousand saints, all with faces like full moons, shall cleave on the last day the yawning bosom

[p.32] of Al-Bakia.[FN#8] About ten thousand of the Ashab (Companions of the Prophet) and innumerable Sadat are here buried: their graves are forgotten, because, in the olden time, tombstones were not placed over the last resting-places of mankind. The first of flesh who shall arise is Mohammed, the second Abu Bakr, the third Omar, then the people of Al-Bakia (amongst whom is Osman, the fourth Caliph), and then the incol[ae] of the Jannat al-Ma’ala, the Meccan cemetery. The Hadis, “whoever dies at the two Harims shall rise with the Sure on the Day of judgment,” has made these spots priceless in value. And even upon earth they might be made a mine of wealth. Like the catacombs at Rome, Al-Bakia is literally full of the odour of sanctity, and a single item of the great aggregate here would render any other Moslem town famous. It is a pity that this people refuses to exhume its relics.

The first person buried in Al-Bakia was Osman bin Maz’un, the first of the Muhajirs, who died at Al-Madinah. In the month of Sha’aban, A.H. 3, the Prophet kissed the forehead of the corpse and ordered it to be interred within sight of his abode.[FN#9] In those days the field was covered with the tree Gharkad; the vegetation was cut down, the ground was levelled, and Osman was placed in the centre of the new cemetery. With his own hands Mohammed planted two large upright stones at the head and the feet of his faithful follower[FN#10]; and in process of time a dome covered the spot. Ibrahim, the Prophet’s infant second

[p.33] son, was laid by Osman’s side, after which Al-Bakia became a celebrated cemetery.

The Burial-place of the Saints is an irregular oblong surrounded by walls which are connected with the suburb at their south-west angle. The Darb al-Janazah separates it from the enceinte of the town, and the eastern Desert Road beginning from the Bab al-Jumah bounds it on the North. Around it palm plantations seem to flourish. It is small, considering the extensive use made of it: all that die at Al-Madinah, strangers as well as natives, except only heretics and schismatics, expect to be interred in it. It must be choked with corpses, which it could never contain did not the Moslem style of burial greatly favour rapid decomposition; and it has all the inconveniences of “intramural sepulture.” The gate is small and ignoble; a mere doorway in the wall. Inside there are no flower-plots, no tall trees, in fact none of the refinements which lightens the gloom of a Christian burial-place: the buildings are simple, they might even be called mean. Almost all are the common Arab Mosque, cleanly whitewashed, and looking quite new. The ancient monuments were levelled to the ground by Sa’ad the Wahhabi and his puritan followers, who waged pitiless warfare against what must have appeared to them magnificent mausolea, deeming as they did a loose heap of stones sufficient for a grave. In Burckhardt’s time the whole place was a “confused accumulation of heaps of earth, wide pits, and rubbish, without a singular regular tomb-stone.” The present erections owe their existence, I was told, to the liberality of the Sultans Abd al-Hamid and Mahmud.

A poor pilgrim has lately started on his last journey, and his corpse, unattended by friends or mourners, is carried upon the shoulders of hired buriers into the cemetery. Suddenly they stay their rapid steps, and throw the body upon the ground. There is a life-like pliability

[p.34] about it as it falls, and the tight cerements so define the outlines that the action makes me shudder. It looks almost as if the dead were conscious of what is about to occur. They have forgotten their tools; one man starts to fetch them, and three sit down to smoke. After a time a shallow grave is hastily scooped out.[FN#11] The corpse is packed in it with such unseemly haste that earth touches it in all directions,—cruel carelessness among Moslems, who believe this to torture the sentient frame.[FN#12] One comfort suggests itself. The poor man being a pilgrim has died “Shahid”—in martyrdom. Ere long his spirit shall leave Al-Bakia,

“And he on honey-dew shall feed,
And drink the milk of Paradise.”

I entered the holy cemetery right foot forwards, as if it were a Mosque, and barefooted, to avoid suspicion of being a heretic. For though the citizens wear their shoes in the Bakia, they are much offended at seeing the Persians follow their example. We began by the general benediction[FN#13]: “Peace be upon Ye, O People of Al-Bakia! Peace be upon Ye, O Admitted to the Presence of the

[p.35] Most High! Receive Ye what Ye have been promised! Peace be upon Ye, Martyrs of Al-Bakia, One and All! We verily, if Allah please, are about to join You! O Allah, pardon us and Them, and the Mercy of God, and His Blessings!” After which we recited the Chapter Al-Ikhlas and the Testification, then raised our hands, mumbled the Fatihah, passed our palms down our faces, and went on.

Walking down a rough narrow path, which leads from the western to the eastern extremity of Al-Bakia, we entered the humble mausoleum of the Caliph Osman—Osman “Al-Mazlum,” or the “ill-treated,” he is called by some Moslems. When he was slain,[FN#14] his friends wished to bury him by the Prophet in the Hujrah, and Ayishah made no objection to the measure. But the people of Egypt became violent; swore that the corpse should neither be buried nor be prayed over, and only permitted it to be removed upon the threat of Habibah (one of the “Mothers of the Moslems,” and daughter of Abu Sufiyan) to expose her countenance. During the night that followed his death, Osman was carried out by several of his friends to Al-Bakia, from which, however, they were driven away, and obliged to deposit their burden in a garden, eastward of and outside the saints’ cemetery. It was called Hisn Kaukab, and was looked upon as an inauspicious place of sepulture, till Marwan included it in Al-Bakia. We stood before Osman’s monument, repeating, “Peace be upon Thee, O our Lord Osman, Son of Affan![FN#15] Peace be upon

[p.36] Thee, O Caliph of Allah’s Apostle! Peace be upon Thee, O Writer of Allah’s Book! Peace be upon Thee, in whose Presence the Angels are ashamed![FN#16] Peace be upon Thee, O Collector of the Koran! Peace be upon Thee, O Son-in-Law of the Prophet! Peace be upon Thee, O Lord of the Two Lights (the two daughters of Mohammed)![FN#17] Peace be upon Thee, who fought the Battle of the Faith! Allah be satisfied with Thee, and cause Thee to be satisfied, and render Heaven thy Habitation! Peace be upon Thee, and the Mercy of Allah and His Blessing, and Praise be to Allah, Lord of the (three) Worlds!” This supplication concluded in the usual manner. After which we gave alms, and settled with ten piastres the demands of the Khadim[FN#18] who takes charge of the tomb: this double-disbursing process had to be repeated at each station.

Then moving a few paces to the North, we faced Eastwards, and performed the Visitation of Abu Sa’id al-Khazari, a Sahib or Companion of the Prophet, whose sepulchre lies outside Al-Bakia. The third place visited was a dome containing the tomb of our lady Halimah, the Badawi wet-nurse who took charge of Mohammed[FN#19]:

[p.37] she is addressed hus; “Peace be upon Thee, O Halimah the Auspicious![FN#20] Peace be upon Thee, who performed thy Trust in suckling the Best of Mankind! Peace be upon Thee, O Wet-nurse of Al-Mustafa (the chosen)! Peace be upon Thee, O Wet-nurse of Al-Mujtaba (the (accepted)![FN#21] May Allah be satisfied with Thee, and cause Thee to be satisfied, and render Heaven thy House and Habitation! and verily we have come visiting Thee, and by means of Thee drawing near to Allah’s Prophet, and through Him to God, the Lord of the Heavens and the Earths.[FN#22]”

After which, fronting the North, we stood before a low enclosure, containing ovals of loose stones, disposed side by side. These are the Martyrs of Al-Bakia, who received the crown of glory at the hands of Al-Muslim,[FN#23] the general of the arch-heretic Yazid[FN#24] The prayer here recited differs so little from that addressed to the martyrs of Ohod, that I will not transcribe it. The fifth station is near the centre of the cemetery at the tomb of Ibrahim, who died, to the eternal regret of Al-Islam, some say six months old, others in his second year. He was the son

[p.38] of Mariyah, the Coptic girl, sent as a present to Mohammed by Jarih, the Mukaukas or governor of Alexandria. The Prophet with his own hand piled earth upon the grave, and sprinkled it with water,—a ceremony then first performed,—disposed small stones upon it, and pronounced the final salutation. For which reason many holy men were buried in this part of the cemetery, every one being ambitious to lie in ground which has been honored by the Apostle’s hands. Then we visited Al-Nafi Maula, son of Omar, generally called Imam Nafi al-Kari, or the Koran chaunter; and near him the great doctor Imam Malik ibn Anas, a native of Al-Madinah, and one of the most dutiful of her sons. The eighth station is at the tomb of Ukayl bin Abi Talib, brother of Ali.[FN#25] Then we visited the spot where lie interred all the Prophet’s wives, Khadijah, who lies at Meccah, alone excepted. Mohammed married fifteen wives of whom nine survived him. After the “Mothers of the Moslems,” we prayed at the tombs of Mohammed’s daughters, said to be ten in number.

In compliment probably to the Hajj, the beggars mustered strong that morning at Al-Bakia. Along the walls and at the entrance of each building squatted ancient dames, all engaged in anxious contemplation of every approaching face, and in pointing to dirty cotton napkins spread upon the ground before them, and studded with a few coins, gold, silver, or copper, according to the expectations of the proprietress. They raised their voices to demand largesse: some promised to recite Fatihahs, and the most audacious seized visitors by the skirts of their

[p.39] garments. Fakihs, ready to write “Y.S.,” or anything else demanded of them, covered the little heaps and eminences of the cemetery, all begging lustily, and looking as though they would murder you, when told how beneficent is Allah—polite form of declining to be charitable. At the doors of the tombs old housewives, and some young ones also, struggled with you for your slippers as you doffed them, and not unfrequently the charge of the pair was divided between two. Inside, when the boys were not loud enough or importunate enough for presents, they were urged on by the adults and seniors, the relatives of the “Khadims” and hangers-on. Unfortunately for me, Shaykh Hamid was renowned for taking charge of wealthy pilgrims: the result was, that my purse was lightened of three dollars. I must add that although at least fifty female voices loudly promised that morning, for the sum of ten parahs each, to supplicate Allah in behalf of my lame foot, no perceptible good came of their efforts.

Before leaving Al-Bakia, we went to the eleventh station, [FN#26] the Kubbat al-Abbasiyah, or Dome of Abbas. Originally built by the Abbaside Caliphs in A.H. 519, it is a larger and a handsomer building than its fellows, and it is situated on the right-hand side of the gate as you enter. The crowd of beggars at the door testified to its importance: they were attracted by the Persians who assemble here in force to weep and to pray. Crossing the threshold with some difficulty, I walked round a mass of tombs which occupies the centre of the building, leaving but a narrow passage between it and the walls. It is railed round, and covered over with several “Kiswahs” of green cloth worked with white letters: it looked like a confused

[p.40] heap, but it might have appeared irregular to me by the reason of the mob around. The Eastern portion contains the body of Al-Hasan, the son of Ali and grandson of the Prophet[FN#27]; the Imam Zayn al-Abidin, son of Al-Hosayn, and great-grandson to the Prophet; the Imam Mohammed al-Bakir (fifth Imam), son to Zayn al-Abidin; and his son the Imam a’afar al-Sadik—all four descendants of the Prophet, and buried in the same grave with Abbas ibn Abd al-Muttalib, uncle to Mohammed. It is almost needless to say that these names are subjects of great controversy. Al-Musudi mentions that here was found an inscribed stone declaring it to be the tomb of the Lady Fatimah, of Hasan her brother, of Ali bin Hosayn, of Mohammed bin Ali, and of Ja’afar bin Mohammed. Ibn Jubayr, describing Al-Bakia, mentions only two in this tomb, Abbas and Hasan; the head of the latter, he says, in the direction of the former’s feet. Other authors

[p.41] relate that in it, about the ninth century of the Hijrah, was found a wooden box covered with fresh-looking red felt cloth, with bright brass nails, and they believe it to have contained the corpse of Ali, placed here by his own son Hasan.

Standing opposite this mysterious tomb, we repeated, with difficulty by reason of the Persians weeping, the following supplication:—“Peace be upon Ye, O Family of the Prophet! O Lord Abbas, the free from Impurity and Uncleanness, and Father’s Brother to the Best of Men! And Thou too O Lord Hasan, Grandson of the Prophet! And thou also O Lord Zayn al-Abidin[FN#28]! Peace be upon Ye, One and All, for verily God hath been pleased to deliver You from all Guile, and to purify You with all Purity. The Mercy of Allah and His Blessings be upon Ye, and verily He is the Praised, the Mighty!” After which, freeing ourselves from the hands of greedy boys, we turned round and faced the southern wall, close to which is a tomb attributed to the Lady Fatimah.[FN#29] I will not repeat the prayer, it being the same as that recited in the Harim.

[p.42] Issuing from the hot and crowded dome, we recovered our slippers after much trouble, and found that our garments had suffered from the frantic gesticulations of the Persians. We then walked to the gate of Al-Bakia, stood facing the cemetery upon an elevated piece of ground, and delivered the general benediction.

“O Allah! O Allah! O Allah! O full of Mercy! O abounding in Beneficence! Lord of Length (of days), and Prosperity, and Goodness! O Thou, who when asked, grantest, and when prayed for aid, aidest! Have Mercy upon the Companions of thy Prophet, of the Muhajirin, and the Ansar! Have Mercy upon them, One and All!

[p.43] Have Mercy upon bdullah bin Hantal” (and so on, specifying their names), “and make Paradise their Resting-place, their Habitation, their Dwelling, and their Abode! O Allah! accept our Ziyarat, and supply our Wants, and lighten our Griefs, and restore us to our Homes, and comfort our Fears, and disappoint not our Hopes, and pardon us, for on no other do we rely; and let us depart in Thy Faith, and after the Practice of Thy Prophet, and be Thou satisfied with us! O Allah! forgive our past Offences, and leave us not to our (evil) Natures during the Glance of an Eye, or a lesser Time; and pardon us, and pity us, and let us return to our Houses and Homes safe,” (i.e., spiritually and physically) “fortunate, abstaining from what is unlawful, re-established after our Distresses, and belonging to the Good, thy Servants upon whom is no Fear, nor do they know Distress. Repentance, O Lord! Repentance, O Merciful! Repentance, O Pitiful! Repentance before Death, and Pardon after Death! I beg pardon of Allah! Thanks be to Allah! Praise be to Allah! Amen, O Lord of the (three) Worlds!”

After which, issuing from Al-Bakia,[FN#30] we advanced

[p.44] northwards, leaving the city gate on the left hand, till we came to a small Kubbah (dome) close to the road. It is visited as containing the tomb of the Prophet’s paternal aunts, especially of Safiyah, daughter of Abd al-Muttalib, sister of Hamzah, and one of the many heroines of early Al-Islam. Hurrying over our devotions here,—for we were tired indeed,—we applied to a Sakka for water, and entered a little coffee-house near the gate of the town: after which we rode home.

I have now described, at a wearying length I fear, the spots visited by every Zair at Al-Madinah. The guide-books mention altogether between fifty and fifty-five Mosques and other holy places, most of which are now unknown even by name to the citizens. The most celebrated of these are the few following, which I describe from hearsay. About three miles to the North-west of the town, close to the Wady al-Akik, lies the Mosque called Al-Kiblatayn—“The Two Directions of Prayer.” Some give this title to the Masjid al-Takwa at Kuba.[FN#31] Others assert that the Prophet, after visiting and eating

[p.45] at the house of an old woman named Umm Mabshar, went to pray the mid-day prayer in the Mosque of the Benu Salmah. He had performed the prostration with his face towards Jerusalem, when suddenly warned by revelation he turned Southwards and concluded his orisons in that direction.[FN#32] I am told it is a mean dome without inner walls, outer enclosures, or minaret.

The Masjid Benu Zafar (some write the word Tifr) is also called Masjid al-Baghlah—of the She-mule,—because, according to Al-Matari, on the ridge of stone to the south of this Mosque are the marks where the Prophet leaned his arm, and where the she-mule, Duldul, sent by the Mukaukas as a present with Mariyah the Coptic girl and Yafur the donkey, placed its hoofs. At the Mosque was shown a slab upon which the Prophet sat hearing recitations from the Koran; and historians declare that by following his example many women have been blessed with offspring.[FN#33] This Mosque is to the East of Al-Bakia.

The Masjid al-Jumah—of Friday,—or Al-Anikah—of the Sand-heaps,—is in the valley near Kuba, where Mohammed prayed and preached on the first Friday after his flight from Meccah [FN#34]

The Masjid al-Fazikh—of Date-liquor—is so called because when Abu Ayyub and others of the Ansar were sitting with cups in their hands, they heard that intoxicating

[p.46] draughts were for the future forbidden, upon which they poured the liquor upon the ground. Here the Prophet prayed six days whilst he was engaged in warring down the Benu Nazir Jews. The Mosque derives its other name, Al-Shams—of the Sun—because, being erected on rising ground East of and near Kuba, it receives the first rays of morning light.

To the Eastward of the Masjid al-Fazikh lies the Masjid al-Kurayzah, erected on a spot where the Prophet descended to attack the Jewish tribe of that name. Returning from the battle of the Moat, wayworn and tired with fighting, he here sat down to wash and comb his hair, when suddenly appeared to him the Archangel Gabriel in the figure of a horseman dressed in a corslet and covered with dust. “The Angels of Allah,” said the preternatural visitor, “are still in Arms, O Prophet, and it is Allah’s Will that Thy foot return to the Stirrup. I go before Thee to prepare a Victory over the Infidels, the Sons of Kurayzah.” The legend adds that the dust raised by the angelic host was seen in the streets of Al-Madinah, but that mortal eye fell not upon horseman’s form. The Prophet ordered his followers to sound the battle-call, gave his flag to Ali,—the Arab token of appointing a commander-in-chief,—and for twenty-five days invested the habitations of the enemy. This hapless tribe was exterminated, sentence of death being passed upon them by Sa’ad ibn Ma’az, an Ausi whom they constituted their judge because he belonged to an allied tribe. Six hundred men were beheaded in the Market-place of Al-Madinah, their property was plundered, and their wives and children were reduced to slavery.

“Tantane relligio potuit suadere malorum!”

The Masjid Mashrabat Umm Ibrahim, or Mosque of the garden of Ibrahim’s mother, is a place where Mariyah the Copt had a garden, and became the mother of

[p.47] Ibrahim, the Prophet’s second son.[FN#35] It is a small building in what is called the Awali, or highest part of the Al-Madinah plain, to the North of the Masjid Benu Kurayzah, and near the Eastern Harrah or ridge.[FN#36]

Northwards of Al-Bakia is, or was, a small building called the Masjid al-Ijabah—of Granting,—from the following circumstance. One day the Prophet stopped to perform his devotions at this place, which then belonged to the Benu Mu’awiyah of the tribe of Aus. He made a long Dua or supplication, and then turning to his Companions, exclaimed, “I have asked of Allah three favours, two hath he vouchsafed to me, but the third was refused!” Those granted were that the Moslems might never be destroyed by famine or by deluge. The third was that they might not perish by internecine strife.

The Masjid al-Fath (of Victory), vulgarly called the “Four Mosques,” is situated in the Wady Al-Sayh,[FN#37] which comes from the direction of Kuba, and about half a mile to the East of “Al-Kiblatayn.” The largest is called the Masjid al-Fath, or Al-Ahzab—of the Troops,—and is alluded to in the Koran. Here it is said the Prophet prayed for three days during the Battle of the Moat, also called the affair “Al-Ahzab,” the last fought with the Infidel Kuraysh under Abu Sufiyan. After three days of devotion, a cold and violent blast arose, with rain

[p.48] and sleet, and discomfited the foe. The Prophet’s prayer having here been granted, it is supposed by ardent Moslems that no petition put up at the Mosque Al-Ahzab is ever neglected by Allah. The form of supplication is differently quoted by different authors. When Al-Shafe’i was in trouble and fear of Harun al-Rashid, by the virtue of this formula he escaped all danger: I would willingly offer so valuable a prophylactory to my readers, only it is of an unmanageable length. The doctors of Al-Islam also greatly differ about the spot where the Prophet stood on this occasion; most of them support the claims of the Masjid al-Fath, the most elevated of the four, to that distinction. Below, and to the South of the highest ground, is the Masjid Salman al-Farsi, the Persian, from whose brain emanated the bright idea of the Moat. At the mature age of two hundred and fifty, some say three hundred and fifty, after spending his life in search of a religion, from a Magus (fire-worshipper)[FN#38] becoming successively a Jew and a Nazarene, he ended with being a Moslem, and a Companion of Mohammed. During his eventful career he had been ten times sold into slavery. Below Salman’s Mosque is the Masjid Ali, and the smallest building on the South of the hill is called Masjid Abu Bakr. All these places owe their existence to Al-Walid the Caliph: they were repaired at times by his successors.

The Masjid al-Rayah—of the Banner—was originally built by Al-Walid upon a place where the Prophet pitched his tent during the War of the Moat. Others call it Al-Zubab, after a hill upon which it stands. Al-Rayah is separated from the Masjid al-Fath by a rising ground called Jabal Sula or Jabal Sawab[FN#39]: the former

[p.49] being on the Eastern, whilst the latter lies upon the Western declivity of the hill. The position of this place is greatly admired, as commanding the fairest view of the Harim.

About a mile and a half South-east of Al-Bakia is a dome called Kuwwat Islam, the “Strength of Al-Islam.” Here the Apostle planted a dry palm-stick, which grew up, blossomed, and bore fruit at once. Moreover, on one occasion when the Moslems were unable to perform the pilgrimage, Mohammed here produced the appearance of a Ka’abah, an Arafat, and all the appurtenances of the Hajj. I must warn my readers not to condemn the founder of Al-Islam for these puerile inventions.

The Masjid Onayn lies South of Hamzah’s tomb. It is on a hill called Jabal al-Rumat, the Shooters’ Hill, and here during the battle of Ohod stood the archers of Al-Islam. According to some, the Prince of Martyrs here received his death-wound; others place that event at the Masjid al-Askar or the Masjid al-Wady.[FN#40]

Besides these fourteen, I find the names, and nothing but the names, of forty Mosques. The reader loses little by my unwillingness to offer him a detailed list of such appellations as Masjid Benu Abd al-Ashhal, Masjid Benu Harisah, Masjid Benu Harim, Masjid al-Fash, Masjid al-Sukiya, Masjid Benu Bayazah, Masjid Benu Hatmah,

“Cum multis aliis quæ nunc perscribere longum est.”

[FN#1] The cholera. See chapter xviii. [FN#2] The word Hawamid is plural of Hamidah, Hawazin of Hazimi. [FN#3] Anciently there was a Caravan from Maskat to Al-Madinah. My friends could not tell me when the line had been given up, but all were agreed that for years they had not seen an Oman caravan, the pilgrims preferring to enter Al-Hijaz via Jeddah. [FN#4] According to Abulfeda, Khaybar is six stations N.E. of Al-Madinah; it is four according to Al-Idrisi; but my informants assured me that camels go there easily, as the Tarikh al-Khamisy says, in three days. I should place it 80 miles N.N.E. of Al-Madinah. Al-Atwal locates it in 65° 20′ E. lon., and 25° 20′ N. lat; Al-Kanun in lon. 67° 30′, and lat. 24° 20′; Ibn Sa’id in lon. 64° 56′, and lat. 27°; and D’Anville in lon. 57°, and lat. 25°. In Burckhardt’s map, and those copied from it, Khaybar is placed about 2° distant from Al-Madinah, which I believe to be too far.
[FN#5] The Parliamentary limit of an officer’s leave from India is five years: if he overstay that period, he forfeits his commission. {to me the comfort of reflecting that possibly at Meccah some opportunity of crossing the Peninsula might present itself. At any rate I had the certainty of seeing the strange wild country of the Hijaz, and of being present at the ceremonies of the Holy City. I must request the reader to bear with a Visitation once more: we shall conclude it with a ride to Al-Bakia.[FN#6] This venerable spot is frequented by the pious every day after the prayer at the Prophet’s Tomb, and especially on Fridays.
[FN#6] The name means “the place of many roots.” It is also called Bakia Al-Gharkad—the place of many roots of the tree Rhamnus. Gharkad is translated in different ways: some term it the lote, others the tree of the Jews (Forskal, sub voce).
[FN#7] See chapter xxi., ante.
[FN#8] The same is said of the Makbarah Benu Salmah or Salim, a cemetery to the west of Al-Madinah, below rising ground called Jabal Sula. It has long ago been deserted. See chapter xiv. [FN#9] In those days Al-Madinah had no walls, and was clear of houses on the East of the Harim.
[FN#10] These stones were removed by Al-Marwan, who determined that Osman’s grave should not be distinguished from his fellows. For this act, the lieutenant of Mu’awiyah was reproved and blamed by pious Moslems. [FN#11] It ought to be high enough for the tenant to sit upright when answering the interrogatory angels.
[FN#12] Because of this superstition, in every part of Al-Islam, some contrivance is made to prevent the earth pressing upon the body. [FN#13] This blessing is in Mohammed’s words, as the beauty of the Arabic shows. Ayishah relates that in the month Safar, A.H. 11, one night the Prophet, who was beginning to suffer from the headache which caused his death, arose from his couch, and walked out into the darkness; whereupon she followed him in a fit of jealousy, thinking he might be about to visit some other wife. He went to Al-Bakia, delivered the above benediction (which others give somewhat differently), raised his hands three times, and turned to go home. Ayishah hurried back, but she could not conceal her agitation from her husband, who asked her what she had done. Upon her confessing her suspicions, he sternly informed her that he had gone forth, by order of the Archangel Gabriel, to bless and to intercede for the people of Al-Bakia. Some authors relate a more facetious termination of the colloquy.—M.C. de Perceval (Essai, &c., vol. iii. p. 314.)
[FN#14] “Limping Osman,” as the Persians contemptuously call him, was slain by rebels, and therefore became a martyr according to the Sunnis. The Shi’ahs justify the murder, saying it was the act of an “Ijma al-Muslimin,” or the general consensus of Al-Islam, which in their opinion ratifies an act of “lynch law.”
[FN#15] This specifying the father Affan, proves him to have been a Moslem. Abu Bakr’s father, “Kahafah,” and Omar’s “Al-Khattab,” are not mentioned by name in the Ceremonies of Visitation.
[FN#16] The Christian reader must remember that the Moslems rank angelic nature, under certain conditions, below human nature. [FN#17] Osman married two daughters of the Prophet, a circumstance which the Sunnis quote as honourable to him: the Shi’ahs, on the contrary, declare that he killed them both by ill-treatment. [FN#18] These men are generally descendants of the Saint whose tomb they own: they receive pensions from the Mudir of the Mosque, and retain all fees presented to them by visitors. Some families are respectably supported in this way.
[FN#19] This woman, according to some accounts, also saved Mohammed’s life, when an Arab Kahin or diviner, foreseeing that the child was destined to subvert the national faith, urged the bystanders to bury their swords in his bosom. The Sharifs of Meccah still entrust their children to the Badawin, that they may be hardened by the discipline of the Desert. And the late Pasha of Egypt gave one of his sons in charge of the Anizah tribe, near Akabah. Burckhardt (Travels in Arabia, vol. i. p. 427) makes some sensible remarks about this custom, which cannot be too much praised.
[FN#20] Al- “Sadiyah,” a double entendre; it means auspicious, and also alludes to Halimah’s tribe, the Benu Sa’ad. [FN#21] Both these words are titles of the Prophet. Al-Mustafa means the “Chosen”; Al-Mujtaba, the “Accepted.” [FN#22] There being, according to the Moslems, many heavens and many earths.
[FN#23] See chapter xx.
[FN#24] The Shafe’i school allows its disciples to curse Al-Yazid, the son of Mu’awiyah, whose cruelties to the descendants of the Prophet, and crimes and vices, have made him the Judas Iscariot of Al-Islam. I have heard Hanafi Moslems, especially Sayyids, revile him; but this is not, strictly speaking, correct. The Shi’ahs, of course, place no limits to their abuse of him. You first call a man “Omar,” then “Shimr,” (the slayer of Al-Hosayn), and lastly, “Yazid,” beyond which insult does not extend. [FN#25] Ukayl or Akil, as many write the name, died at Damascus, during the Caliphate of Al-Mu’awiyah. Some say he was buried there, others that his corpse was transplanted to Al-Madinah, and buried in a place where formerly his house, known as “Dar Ukayl,” stood. [FN#26] Some are of opinion that the ceremonies of Ziyarat formerly did, and still should begin here. But the order of visitation differs infinitely, and no two authors seem to agree. I was led by Shaykh Hamid, and indulged in no scruples.
[FN#27] Burckhardt makes a series of mistakes upon this subject. “Hassan ibn Aly, whose trunk only lies buried here (in El Bakia), his head having been sent to Cairo, where it is preserved in the fine Mosque called El-Hassanya.” The Mosque Al-Hasanayn (the “two Hasans”) is supposed to contain only the head of Al-Hosayn, which, when the Crusaders took Ascalon, was brought from thence by Sultan Salih or Beybars, and conveyed to Cairo. As I have said before, the Persians in Egypt openly show their contempt of this tradition. It must be remembered that Al-Hasan died poisoned at Al-Madinah by his wife Ja’adah. Al-Hosayn, on the other hand, was slain and decapitated at Kerbela. According to the Shi’ahs, Zayn al-Abidin obtained from Yazid, after a space of forty days, his father’s head, and carried it back to Kerbela, for which reason the event is known to the Persians as “Chilleyeh sar o tan,” the “forty days of (separation between) the head and trunk.” They vehemently deny that the body lies at Kerbela, and the head at Cairo. Others, again, declare that Al-Hosayn’s head was sent by Yazid to Amir bin al-As, the governor of Al-Madinah, and was by him buried near Fatimah’s Tomb. Nor are they wanting who declare, that after Yazid’s death the head was found in his treasury, and was shrouded and buried at Damascus. Such is the uncertainty which hangs over the early history of Al-Islam[.] [FN#28] The names of the fifth and sixth Imams, Mohammed al-Bakia and Ja’afar al-Sadik, were omitted by Hamid, as doubtful whether they are really buried here or not.
[FN#29] Moslem historians seem to delight in the obscurity which hangs over the lady’s last resting-place, as if it were an honour even for the receptacle of her ashes to be concealed from the eyes of men. Some place her in the Harim, relying upon this tradition: “Fatimah, feeling about to die, rose up joyfully, performed the greater ablution, dressed herself in pure garments, spread a mat upon the floor of her house near the Prophet’s Tomb, lay down fronting the Kiblah, placed her hand under her cheek, and said to her attendant, “I am pure and in a pure dress; now let no one uncover my body, but bury me where I lie!” When Ali returned he found his wife dead, and complied with her last wishes. Omar bin Abd al-Aziz believed this tradition, when he included the room in the Mosque; and generally in Al-Islam Fatimah is supposed to be buried in the Harim. Those who suppose the Prophet’s daughter to be buried in Al-Bakia rely upon a saying of the Imam Hasan, “If men will not allow me to sleep beside my grandsire, place me in Al-Bakia, by my mother.” They give the following account of his death and burial. His body was bathed and shrouded by Ali and Omar Salmah. Others say that Asma Bint Umays, the wife of Abu Bakr, was present with Fatimah, who at her last hour complained of being carried out, as was the custom of those days, to burial like a man. Asma promised to make her a covered bier, like a bride’s litter, of palm sticks, in shape like what she had seen in Abyssinia: whereupon Fatimah smiled for the first time after her father’s death, and exacted from her a promise to allow no one entrance as long as her corpse was in the house. Ayishah, shortly afterwards knocking at the door, was refused admittance by Asma; the former complained of this to her father, and declared that her stepmother had been making a bride’s litter to carry out the corpse. Abu Bakr went to the door, and when informed by his wife that all was the result of Fatimah’s orders, he returned home making no objection. The death of the Prophet’s daughter was concealed by her own desire from high and low; she was buried at night, and none accompanied her bier, or prayed at her grave, except Ali and a few relatives. The Shi’ahs found a charge of irreverence and disrespect against Abu Bakr for absence on this occasion. The third place which claims Fatimah’s honoured remains, is a small Mosque in Al-Bakia, South of the Sepulchre of Abbas. It was called Bayt al-Huzn—House of Mourning—because here the lady passed the end of her days, lamenting the loss of her father. Her tomb appears to have formerly been shown there. Now visitors pray, and pray only twice,—at the Harim, and in the Kubbat al-Abbasiyah.
[FN#30] The other celebrities in Al-Bakia are:—

Fatimah bint As’ad, mother of Ali. She was buried with great religious pomp. The Prophet shrouded her with his own garment (to prevent hell from touching her), dug her grave, lay down in it (that it might never squeeze or be narrow to her), assisted in carrying the bier, prayed over her, and proclaimed her certain of future felicity. Over her tomb was written, “The grave hath not closed upon one like Fatimah, daughter of As’ad.” Historians relate that Mohammed lay down in only four graves: 1. Khadijah’s, at Meccah. 2. Kasim’s, her son by him. 3. That of Umm Ruman, Ayishah’s mother. 4. That of Abdullah al-Mazni, a friend and companion.

Abd al-Rahman bin Auf was interred near Osman bin Maz’un. Ayishah offered to bury him in her house near the Prophet, but he replied that he did not wish to narrow her abode, and that he had promised to sleep by the side of his friend Maz’un. I have already alluded to the belief that none has been able to occupy the spare place in the Hujrah.

Ibn Hufazah al-Sahmi, who was one of the Ashab al-Hijratayn (who had accompanied both flights, the greater and the lesser), here died of a wound received at Ohod, and was buried in Shawwal, A.H. 3, one month after Osman bin Maz’un.

Abdullah bin Mas’ud, who, according to others, is buried at Kufah.

Sa’ad ibn Zararah, interred near Osman bin Maz’un.

Sa’ad bin Ma’az, who was buried by the Prophet. He died of a wound received during the battle of the Moat.

Abd al-Rahman al-Ausat, son of Omar, the Caliph. He was generally known as Abu Shahmah, the “Father of Fat”: he sickened and died, after receiving from his father the religious flogging—impudicitiae causa.

Abu Sufiyan bin al-Haris, grandson of Abd al-Muttalib. He was buried near Abdullah bin Ja’afar al-Tayyar, popularly known as the “most generous of the Arabs,” and near Ukayl bin Abi Talib, the brother of Ali mentioned above.

These are the principal names mentioned by popular authors. The curious reader will find in old histories a multitude of others, whose graves are now utterly forgotten at Al-Madinah. [FN#31] See chapter xix.
[FN#32] The story is related in another way. Whilst Mohammed was praying the Asr or afternoon prayer at the Harim he turned his face towards Meccah. Some of the Companions ran instantly to all the Mosques, informing the people of the change. In many places they were not listened to, but the Benu Salmah who were at prayer instantly faced Southwards. To commemorate their obedience the Mosque was called Al-Kiblatayn.
[FN#33] I cannot say whether this valuable stone be still at the Mosque Benu Tifr. But I perfectly remember that my friend Larking had a mutilated sphynx in his garden at Alexandria, which was found equally efficacious.
[FN#34] See chapter xvii.
[FN#35] Mohammed’s eldest son was Kasim, who died in his infancy, and was buried at Meccah. Hence the Prophet’s pædonymic, Abu Kasim, the sire of Kasim.
[FB#36] Ayishah used to relate that she was exceedingly jealous of the Coptic girl’s beauty, and of the Prophet’s love for her. Mohammed seeing this, removed Mariyah from the house of Harisat bin al-Numan, in which he had placed her, to the Awali of Al-Madinah, where the Mosque now is. Oriental authors use this term “Awali,” high-grounds, to denote the plains to the Eastward and Southward of the City, opposed to Al-Safilah, the lower ground on the W. and N.W.
[FN#37] I am very doubtful about this location of the Masjid al-Fath. [FN#38] A magus, a magician, one supposed to worship fire. The other rival sect of the time was the Sabœan who adored the heavenly bodies. [FN#39] The Mosque of “reward in heaven.” It is so called because during the War of the Moat, the Prophet used to live in a cave there, and afterwards he made it a frequent resort for prayer. [FN#40] Hamzah’s fall is now placed at the Kubbat al-Masra. See chapter xx.

[p.50]CHAPTER XXIII.

THE DAMASCUS CARAVAN.

THE Damascus Caravan was to set out on the 27th Zu’l Ka’adah (1st September). I had intended to stay at Al-Madinah till the last moment, and to accompany the Kafilat al-Tayyarah, or the “Flying Caravan,” which usually leaves on the 2nd Zu’l Hijjah, two days after that of Damascus.

Suddenly arose the rumour that there would be no Tayyarah,[FN#l] and that all pilgrims must proceed with the Damascus Caravan or await the Rakb. This is a Dromedary Caravan, in which each person carries only his saddle-bags. It usually descends by the road called Al-Khabt, and makes Meccah on the fifth day. The Sharif Zayd, Sa’ad the Robber’s only friend, had paid him an unsuccessful visit. Schinderhans demanded back his Shaykh-ship, in return for a safe-conduct through his country: “Otherwise,” said he, “I will cut the throat of every hen that ventures into the passes.”

The Sharif Zayd returned to Al-Madinah on the 25th Zu’l Ka’adah (30th August). Early on the morning of the next day, Shaykh Hamid returned hurriedly from the bazar, exclaiming, “You must make ready at once, Effendi!—there will be no Tayyarah—all Hajis start to-morrow—Allah will make it easy to you!—have you

[p.51] your water-skins in order?—you are to travel down the Darb al-Sharki, where you will not see water for three days!”

Poor Hamid looked horrorstruck as he concluded this fearful announcement, which filled me with joy. Burckhardt had visited and had described the Darb al-Sultani, the road along the coast. But no European had as yet travelled down by Harun al-Rashid’s and the Lady Zubaydah’s celebrated route through the Nijd Desert.

Not a moment, however, was to be lost: we expected to start early the next morning. The boy Mohammed went forth, and bought for eighty piastres a Shugduf, which lasted us throughout the pilgrimage, and for fifteen piastres a Shibriyah or cot to be occupied by Shaykh Nur, who did not relish sleeping on boxes. The youth was employed all day, with sleeves tucked up, and working like a porter, in covering the litter with matting and rugs, in mending broken parts, and in providing it with large pockets for provisions inside and outside, with pouches to contain the gugglets of cooled water.

Meanwhile Shaykh Nur and I, having inspected the water-skins, found that the rats had made considerable rents in two of them. There being no workman procurable at this time for gold, I sat down to patch the damaged articles; whilst Nur was sent to lay in supplies for fourteen days. The journey is calculated at eleven days; but provisions are apt to spoil, and the Badawi camel-men expect to be fed. Besides which, pilferers abound. By my companion’s advice I took wheat-flour, rice, turmeric, onions, dates, unleavened bread of two kinds, cheese, limes, tobacco, sugar, tea and coffee.

Hamid himself started upon the most important part of our business. Faithful camel-men are required upon a road where robberies are frequent and stabbings occasional, and where there is no law to prevent desertion or to limit new and exorbitant demands. After a time he

[p.52] returned, accompanied by a boy and a Badawi, a short, thin, well-built old man with regular features, a white beard, and a cool clear eye; his limbs, as usual, were scarred with wounds. Mas’ud of the Rahlah, a sub-family of the Hamidah family of the Benu-Harb, came in with a dignified demeanour, applied his dexter palm to ours,[FN#2] sat down, declined a pipe, accepted coffee, and after drinking it, looked at us to show that he was ready for nego[t]iation. We opened the proceedings with “We want men, and not camels,” and the conversation proceeded in the purest Hijazi.[FN#3] After much discussion, we agreed, if compelled to travel by the Darb al-Sharki, to pay twenty dollars for two camels,[FN#4] and to advance Arbun, or earnest-money, to half that amount.[FN#5] The Shaykh bound himself to provide us with good animals, which, moreover, were to be changed in case of accidents: he was also to supply his beasts with water, and to accompany us to Arafat and back. But, absolutely refusing to carry my large chest, he declared that the tent under the Shugduf was burden enough for one camel; and that the green box of drugs, the saddle-bags, and the provision-sacks, surmounted by Nur’s cot, were amply sufficient for the other. On our part, we bound ourselves to feed the

[p.53] Shaykh and his son, supplying them either with raw or with cooked provender, and, upon our return to Meccah from Mount Arafat, to pay the remaining hire with a discretionary present.

Hamid then addressed to me flowery praises of the old Badawi. After which, turning to the latter, he exclaimed, “Thou wilt treat these friends well, O Mas’ud the Harbi!” The ancient replied with a dignity that had no pomposity in it,—“Even as Abu Shawarib—the Father of Mustachios[FN#6]—behaveth to us, so will we behave to him!” He then arose, bade us be prepared when the departure-gun sounded, saluted us, and stalked out of the room, followed by his son, who, under pretext of dozing, had mentally made an inventory of every article in the room, ourselves especially included.

When the Badawin disappeared, Shaykh Hamid shook his head, advising me to give them plenty to eat, and never to allow twenty-four hours to elapse without dipping hand in the same dish with them, in order that the party might always be “Malihin,”—on terms of salt.[FN#7] He concluded

[p.54] with a copious lecture upon the villainy of Badawin, and on their habit of drinking travellers’ water. I was to place the skins on a camel in front, and not behind; to hang them with their mouths carefully tied, and turned upwards, contrary to the general practice; always to keep a good store of liquid, and at night to place it under the safeguard of the tent.

In the afternoon, Omar Effendi and others dropped in to take leave. They found me in the midst of preparations, sewing sacks, fitting up a pipe, patching water-bags, and packing medicines. My fellow-traveller had brought me some pencils[FN#8] and a penknife, as “forget-me-nots,” for we were by no means sure of meeting again. He hinted, however, at another escape from the paternal abode, and proposed, if possible, to join the Dromedary-Caravan. Shaykh Hamid said the same, but I saw, by the expression of his face, that his mother and wife would not give him leave from home so soon after his return.

Towards evening-time the Barr al-Manakhah became a scene of exceeding confusion. The town of tents lay upon the ground. Camels were being laden, and were roaring under the weight of litters and cots, boxes and baggage. Horses and mules galloped about. Men were rushing wildly in all directions on worldly errands, or hurrying to pay a farewell visit to the Prophet’s Tomb. Women and children sat screaming on the ground, or ran to and fro distracted, or called their vehicles to escape the danger of being crushed. Every now and then a random shot excited all into the belief that the departure-gun had sounded. At times we heard a volley from the robbers’ hills, which elicited a general groan, for the pilgrims were still, to use their own phrase, “between fear

[p.55] and hope,” and, consequently, still far from “one of the two comforts.[FN#9]” Then would sound the loud “Jhin-Jhin” of the camels’ bells, as the stately animals paced away with some grandee’s gilt and emblazoned litter, the sharp plaint of the dromedary, and the loud neighing of excited steeds.

About an hour after sunset all our preparations were concluded, save only the Shugduf, at which the boy Mohammed still worked with untiring zeal; he wisely remembered that he had to spend in it the best portion of a week and a half. The evening was hot, we therefore dined outside the house. I was told to repair to the Harim for the Ziyarat al-Wida’a, or the “Farewell Visitation”; but my decided objection to this step was that we were all to part,—how soon!—and when to meet again we knew not. My companions smiled consent, assuring me that the ceremony could be performed as well at a distance as in the temple.

Then Shaykh Hamid made me pray a two-bow prayer, and afterwards, facing towards the Harim, to recite this supplication with raised hands:

“O Apostle of Allah, we beg Thee to entreat Almighty Allah, that He cut off no Portion of the Good resulting to us, from this Visit to Thee and to Thy Harim! May He cause us to return safe and prosperous to our Birth-places; aid then us in the Progeny he hath given us, and continue to us his Benefits, and make us thankful for our daily Bread! O Allah, let not this be the last of our Visitations to Thy Apostle’s Tomb! Yet if Thou summon us before such Blessing, verily in my Death I bear Witness, as in my Life,” (here the forefinger of the right hand is extended, that the members of the body may take part with the tongue and the heart) “that there

[p.56] is no god but Allah, One and without Partner, and verily that our Lord Mohammed is His Servant and His Apostle! O Allah, grant us in this World Weal, and in the future Weal, and save us from the torments of Hell-fire! Praise to Thee, O Lord, Lord of Glory, greater than Man can describe! and Peace be upon the Apostle, and Laud to Allah, the Lord of the (three) Worlds.” This concludes, as usual, with the Testification and the Fatihah. Pious men on such an occasion go to the Rauzah, where they strive, if possible, to shed a tear,—a single drop being a sign of acceptance,—give alms to the utmost of their ability, vow piety, repentance, and obedience, and retire overwhelmed with grief, at separating themselves from their Prophet and Intercessor. It is customary, too, before leaving Al-Madinah, to pass at least one night in vigils at the Harim, and for learned men to read through the Koran once before the tomb.

Then began the uncomfortable process of paying off little bills. The Eastern creditor always, for divers reasons, waits the last moment before he claims his debt. Shaykh Hamid had frequently hinted at his difficulties; the only means of escape from which, he said, was to rely upon Allah. He had treated me so hospitably, that I could not take back any part of the £5 lent to him at Suez. His three brothers received a dollar or two each, and one or two of his cousins hinted to some effect that such a proceeding would meet with their approbation.

The luggage was then carried down, and disposed in packs upon the ground before the house, so as to be ready for loading at a moment’s notice. Many flying parties of travellers had almost started on the high road, and late in the evening came a new report that the body of the Caravan would march about midnight. We sat up till about two A.M., when, having heard no gun, and having seen no camels, we lay down to sleep through the sultry remnant of the hours of darkness.

[p.57]Thus, gentle reader, was spent my last night at Al-Madinah.

I had reason to congratulate myself upon having passed through the first danger. Meccah is so near the coast, that, in case of detection, the traveller might escape in a few hours to Jeddah, where he would find an English Vice-Consul, protection from the Turkish authorities, and possibly a British cruiser in the harbour. But at Al-Madinah discovery would entail more serious consequences. The next risk to be run was the journey between the two cities, where it would be easy for the local officials quietly to dispose of a suspected person by giving a dollar to a Badawi.

[FN#1] The “Tayyarah,” or “Flying Caravan,” is lightly laden, and travels by forced marches.
[FN#2] This “Musafahah,” as it is called, is the Arab fashion of shaking hands. They apply the palms of the right hands flat to each other, without squeezing the fingers, and then raise the hand to the forehead. [FN#3] On this occasion I heard three new words: “Kharitah,” used to signify a single trip to Meccah (without return to Al-Madinah), “Ta’arifah,” going out from Meccah to Mount Arafat, and “Tanzilah,” return from Mount Arafat to Meccah.
[FN#4] And part of an extra animal which was to carry water for the party. Had we travelled by the Darb al-Sultani, we should have paid 6½ dollars, instead of 10, for each beast.
[FN#5] The system of advances, as well as earnest money, is common all over Arabia. In some places, Aden for instance, I have heard of two-thirds the price of a cargo of coffee being required from the purchaser before the seller would undertake to furnish a single bale. [FN#6] Most men of the Shafe’i school clip their mustachios exceedingly short; some clean shave the upper lip, the imperial, and the parts of the beard about the corners of the mouth, and the forepart of the cheeks. I neglected so to do, which soon won for me the epithet recorded above. Arabs are vastly given to “nick-naming God’s creatures”; their habit is the effect of acute observation, and the want of variety in proper names. Sonnini appears not to like having been called the “Father of a nose.” But there is nothing disrespectful in these personal allusions. In Arabia you must be “father” of something, and it is better to be father of a feature, than father of a cooking pot, or father of a strong smell (“Abu-Zirt.”)
[FN#7] Salt among the Hindus is considered the essence and preserver of the seas; it was therefore used in their offerings to the gods. The old idea in Europe was, that salt is a body composed of various elements, into which it cannot be resolved by human means: hence, it became the type of an indissoluble tie between individuals. Homer calls salt sacred and divine, and whoever ate it with a stranger was supposed to become his friend. By the Greek authors, as by the Arabs, hospitality and salt are words expressing a kindred idea. When describing the Badawin of Al-Hijaz, I shall have occasion to notice their peculiar notions of the Salt-law.
[FN#8] The import of such articles shows the march of progress in Al-Hijaz. During the last generation, schoolmasters used for pencils bits of bar lead beaten to a point.
[FN#9] The “two comforts” are success and despair; the latter, according to the Arabs, being a more enviable state of feeling than doubt or hope deferred.

[p.58]CHAPTER XXIV.

FROM AL-MADINAH TO AL-SUWAYRKIYAH.

FOUR roads lead from Al-Madinah to Meccah. The [“]Darb al-Sultani,” or “Sultan’s Highway,” follows the line of coast: this general passage has been minutely described by my exact predecessor. The “Tarik al-Ghabir,” a mountain path, is avoided by the Mahmil and the great Caravans on account of its rugged passes; water abounds along the whole line, but there is not a single village and the Sobh Badawin, who own the soil[,] are inveterate plunderers. The route called “Wady al-Kura” is a favourite with Dromedary Caravans; on this road are two or three small settlements, regular wells, and free passage through the Benu Amr tribe. The Darb al-Sharki, or “Eastern road,” down which I travelled, owes its existence to the piety of the Lady Zubaydah, wife of Harun al-Rashid. That munificent princess dug wells from Baghdad to Al-Madinah, and built, we are told, a wall to direct pilgrims over the shifting sands.[FN#1] There is a fifth road, or rather mountain path, concerning which I can give no information.

At eight A.M. on Wednesday, the 26th Zu’l Ka’adah

[p.59] (31st August, 1853), as we were sitting at the window of Hamid’s house after our early meal, suddenly appeared, in hottest haste, Mas’ud, our Camel-Shaykh. He was accompanied by his son, a bold boy about fourteen years of age, who fought sturdily about the weight of each package as it was thrown over the camel’s back; and his nephew, an ugly pock-marked lad, too lazy even to quarrel. We were ordered to lose no time in loading; all started into activity, and at nine A.M. I found myself standing opposite the Egyptian Gate, surrounded by my friends, who had accompanied me thus far on foot, to take leave with due honour. After affectionate embraces and parting mementoes, we mounted, the boy Mohammed and I in the litter, and Shaykh Nur in his cot. Then in company with some Turks and Meccans, for Mas’ud owned a string of nine camels, we passed through the little gate near the castle, and shaped our course towards the North. On our right lay the palm-groves, which conceal this part of the city; far to the left rose the domes of Hamzah’s