The Press. — London, England, 1855-07-14 00:00:00

1 JULY 14, 1855. reaching the sacred cities of the Prophet are not generally known. For the last 350 years only four travellers succeeded in their object, and out of these (in 1503) one, Lodovico Bartema, simulated madness, an expedient which allowed him free ingress to the Ma hommedan holy places, for in the East a mad man is considered harmless ; and the second, Joseph Pitts, of Exeter, in 1678, professed Mahommedanism. Of the two modern travel lers who reached Meceah and Medinah, the first, Burckardt, was utterly prostrated by sick ness during his stay in the Northern Hejaz; and the second, Final, was a renegade who devoted his time more to making love to his master's wives than preparing by observa tion and notes any record which we could depend upon. The several accounts which these travellers have left, though written probably from memory, yet substantially agree ; but Lieutenant Burton's personal narrative, compiled by himself from his own notes taken upon the spot, and cleverly se creted, during a tour of some months through the country, and enjoying every advantage of intercourse with the natives which the rights of hospitality to a True Believer enjoin in the East, far surpass any of the accounts yet handed down to us in minute detail and valuable information. The motive of his undertaking so dangerous a journey is soon stated. He wished to cross the hitherto unexplored Arabian peninsula directly from Medinah to Muscat, or diagonally from Meccah to Makullah on the Indian Ocean. Among the secondary objects of his Journey were, the intention to obtain every information about the bydrography of the country; the physiological differences of race among the inhabitants ; and, lastly, to open a market for horses between central Arabia and India. These intentions were unhappily frus trated from various causes ; but still in his journey to Medinah and Meccuh Mr. Burton has more than ample reason to congratulate himself upon his success. Supplied with funds by the Royal Geographical Society, he embarked, in July, 1853, on board the Eastern steamer, disguised as a " Persian Prince," and amusingly alludes to his fi rst fortnight being profitably spent in working up his Oriental manners, which, to judge from the prelimi naries necessary to drink a glass of water, are trying enough :-- With ns (remarks Mr. Barton) the operation is simple, enough, but his ( the Oriental's) performance includes no less than five novelties. In the first place he clutches his tumbler as though it. were the throat of a foe ; secondly, he ejaculates, " In the name of Allah the Compassionate, the Merciful!" before wetting hie lips ; thirdly, he imbibes the contents, swallowing them, not drinking, and ending with a satisfied grunt ; fourthly, before setting down the cup, he sighs forth, " Praise be to Allah !"—of which you will understand the full meaning in the desert; and fifthly, he replies, " May Allah make it pleasant to thee!" in answer to his friend's polite " Pleasurably and health !" Also he is care ful to avoid the irreligious action of drinking the pure element in a standing position, mindful, however, of the three recognised exceptions, the fluid of the Holy Well Zem-zem, water distributed in charity, and that which re mains after Wuzu, the lesser ablution. Never once detected in his disguise on board the steamer, he landed at Alexandria, and suc cessfully passed through the preliminary scru tiny of the donkey boys ; he reached a friend's residence in safety, and, lodging only in the outhouse, he engaged the services of an elder of Islam, and plunged at once into all the in tricacies of the faith, ablutions, prostrations, and deep study of the Kcran and its precepts. After a month's hard work, he prepared to start on his journey as a "wandering Dervish," for he begun to tire of a civilised life in a town : The thorough-bred wanderer's idiosyncrasy I presume to be a composition of what phrenologists call " inhabitive ness" and " locality " equally and largely developed. After a long and toilsome march, weary of the way, he drops into the nearest place of rest, to become the most domestic of men. For a while he smokes the " pipe of permanence " with an infinite zest; he delights in various siestas duting the day, relishing withal a long sleep at night ; he enjoys dining at a fixed dinner-hour, and wonders at the demoralisation of the mind which cannot find means of excitement in chit-chat or small talk, in a novel or a newspaper. But soon the passive fit has passed away ; again a paroxysm of ennui coming on by slow degrees, Viator loses appetite, he walks about his room all night, he yawns at conversations, and a book acts upon him as a narcotic. The man wants to wander, and he must do so or he shall die. After many petty annoyances about pass porta—for the pollee of rapt is as prying &It'd THE PRESS. strict as that of Europe—our Dervish at length wanders forth from Alexandria to Cairo and Suez; and from thence taking ship down the Red Sea, he landed at Yambu, on the eastern shore, and commenced his journey to Me dinah (about four days' travel inland), where the two present volumes leave him. The narrative of his journey is full of detail and of personal adventure, illustrating the habits and peculiarities of the Arab people, who retain all their primeval simplicity of character, while his notes are a perfect cyclo - ptedia of Oriental lore in themselves. - His description of the peculiar effect of the desert, as quiokeniug and invigorating the intellect, is well given : It is strange ( he remarks) how the mind can be amnsed amid scenery that presents so few objects to occupy it. But in such a country every slight modification of form or colour rivets observation : the senses are sharpened, and perceptive faculties, prone to sleep over a confused shifting of scenery, act vigorously when excited by the capability of embracing each detail. . _ And then the Oases, and little lines of fertility—how soft and how beautiful !—even though the Wady El Ward (the Vale of Flowers) be the name of some stern flat upon which a handful of wild shrubs blossom while struggling through a cold season's ephemeral existence. In such circumstances the mind is influenced through the body. Though your mouth glows, and your skin is parched, yet you feel no languor, the effect of humid heat ; your lungs are lightened, your sight brightens, your memory recovers its tone, and your spirits become exuberant; your fancy and imagination arc powerfully aroused, and the wildness and sublimity of the scenes around you stir up all the energies of your soul—whether for exertion, danger, or strife. Your morale improves ; you become frank and cordial, hospitable, and single-minded; the hypocritical politeness and the slavery of civilisation are left behind you in the city. Your senses are quickened : they require no stimulants but air and exereise,—in the desert spirituous liquors excite only disgust. There is a keen enjoyment in a mere animal existence. The sharp appetite disposes of the most indigestible food, the sand is softer than a bed of down, and the purity of the air suddenly puts to flight a dire cohort of diseases. Hence it is that both sexes, and every age, the most material as well as the most imagina tire of minds, the tamest citizen, the most peaceful student, the spoiled child of civilisation, all feel their hearts dilate, and their pulses beat strong as they look down from their dromedaries upon the " glorious desert." Where do we hear of a " traveller" being disappointed by it? It Is another illustration of the ancient truth that Nature re• turns to man, however unworthily he has treated her. And believe me, gentle reader, that when once your tastes have conformed to the tranquillity of such travel, you will suffer real pain in returning to the turmoil of civilisation. You will anticipate the bustle and the confusion of artificial life, its luxury and its false pleasures, with repugnance. De pressed in spirits, you will for a time after your return feel incapable of mental or bodily exertion. The air of cities will suffocate you, and the careworn and cadaverous coun tenances of citizens will haunt you like a vision of judge went. The common idea of the desert and its oases does not appear to be founded upon fact. To compare the desert, he tells us, to a " sandy sea" is incorrect Sand heaps are found in the desert, but sand plains are merely a local feature, not the general face of the country, which is usually a hard dry earth, requiring only a " monsoon" to become highly produc tive, while an " oasis," instead of being a " green isle " in the sandy sea, is, generally speaking, a rocky valley bisected by the bed of a mountain torrent, dry during the hot season, but from which water may be always obtained by digging. On his way from Yarnbu to Me diaah our Dervish alludes painfully to the dis appointment he experienced upon such an occasion, when he had been led to expect a pastoral scene, wild flowers, and flowing waters, but found only a barren, desolate spot, with a deep hole full of brackish water, a few hardy thorns for flowers, and knobs of granite for grass and daisies. The characteristic sketch of his boy, the companion of his travels, is given with clever foree He is a beardless youth, of about eighteen, chocolate brown, with high features, and a bold profile ; his bony and decided Meecan cast of face is lit up by the peculiar Egyp• Lien eye, which seems to descend from generation to gene ration. His figure was short sad broad, with a tendency to be obese, the result of a strong stomach and the power of sleeping at discretion. He could read a little, write his name, and was uncommonly clever at a bargain. Meccnh had taught him to speak excellent Arabic, to understand the literal dialect, to be eloquent in abuse, and to be pro found at prayer and pilgrimage. Constantinople had given him a taste for Anacreontic singing, and female society of the questionable kind, a love of strong waters—the hypo crite looked positively scandalised when I first suggested the subject—and an of latitudinarian mode of dealing with serious subjects in general. i found him to be the youngest son of a widow, whose dusting fondness had moulded his disposition ; he was selfish and affectionate, as spoiled children usually are, volatile, easily offended, 669 sad as easily pacified (the Oriental), coveting other men's goods, and profuse of his own (the Arab), with a match• less intrepidity of countenance (the traveller), brazen lunged, not more than half brave, exceedingly astute, wi:h an acute sense of honour, especially where his relations were concerned (the individual). I have seen him in a fit of fury because someone cursed his father; and lie and I nearly parted because on one occasion I applied to him an epithet which etymologically considered might be exceedingly insulting to a higlmitioded brother, but which in popular parlance signifies nothing. This point d hmoit ur was the boy Alahounuctra strong point. Medinah, the resting-place of the Prophet's mortal remains, is very nifty and aceurately described. In his disguise —never detected, and but seldom suspected—Lieut. Burton pe netrates into the mysterious precincts of the Prophet's mosque and tombs, carefully going through every ceremony and visiting the most sacred spots but that one where no mortal foot Is ever allowed to enter,—the chamber which ig supposed to contain the remains of Mohammed and of Omar and Abubekr. This " liujrah," or chamber, ie an irregular square of some fifty or fifty-five feet in the south-cast corner of the mausoleum : Inside there are, or are supposed to be, three tombs facing the south, surrounded by stone walls without any aperture, or, as others say, by strong planking. Whatever this material may be, it is hung outside with a curtain, some whirtlike a large four-post bed. The outer railing isseparsted by a dark narrow passage from the inner one, which it surrounds, and is of iron filagree painted of a vivid grass green—with a view to the garden—whilst careflolly inserted in the verdure, and doubly bright by contrast, is the gilt or burnished brass work forming the long anal graceful letters of the Sula character, and disposed into the Moslem creed, the profession of unity, and similar religious sentences. On the south side, for greater honour, the railing is plated over with silver, and silver letters are interlaced with it. This fence, which connects the columns and forbids passage to all men, may be compared to the baltlecellino of Roman churches. It has four gates : that to the south is the limb el Muwajihah; eastward is the gate of our Lady Fatimah ; westward the Bab el Taubah (of repentance), opening into the Hannah or garden, and to the north the Bab el Shunt or Syrian gate. They are constantly kept closed, except the fourth, which admits into the dark narrow passage above alluded to the officers who have charge of the trea sures there deposited, and the eunuchs who sweep the floor, light the lamps, and carry away the presents some times thrown in here by devotees. In the southern side of the fence are three windows, holes about half a foot square, and placed from tour to five feet above the ground ; they are said to he between three and four cubits distant from the Prophet's head. The most westerly of these is supposed to front Mohammed's tomb, wherefore it is called the Shnbak el Nabl, or the Prophet's window. The next on the right as you front it is Abubekr's, end the most easterly of the three is Omar's. Above the Hujrsh is the Green Dome, surmounted outside by a large gilt crescent springing from a series of globes. The glowing imagina tions of the Moslems crown this gem of the building with a pillar of heavenly light, which directs from three days' distance the pilgrims' steps towards Medinah. Bat alas! none save holy men (and perhaps odylic sensitives), whose material organs are piercing as their vision spiritual, are allowed the privilege of beholding this poetic splendour. Looking in at the little window called the Prophet's, after straining his eyes, he saw— A curtain, or rather hangings, with three inscriptions in large gold letters, informing readers that behind them lie Allah's Prophet and the two first caliphs. The exec: place of Mohammed's tomb is moreover distinguished by a large pearl rosary, and a peculiar ornament, the celebrated Kan. kab el Durrt. or constellation of pearls, suspended. to the curtain breast high. This is described to be a " Ltilliant star set in diamonds and pearls," and placed in the dark in order that man's eye may be able to bear its splendours : the vulgar believe it to be a " jewel of the jewels of Para dise." To me it greatly resembled the round stoppers et glass used for the humbler sorts of decanters, but I never saw it quite near enough to judge fairly of it, and did not think fit to pay an exorbitant sum for the privilege of en tering the inner passage of the beldiprin. Altogether, the coup Boil had nothing to recommend it by day. At night, when the lamps hung in this passage shed a dim light upon the mosaic work of the marble floors, upon the glit tering inscriptions and the massive hangings, the scene is more likely to become " ken-speckle." Mr. Burton adduces some good reasons fo doubting the existence of any tomb at all grounded mainly upon the many points in dia• pute between the Moslems themselves. As one who has mixed so much among the people his opinion of the instability of the Turkish power in Arabia is worth hearing. Speaking of the insecurity of travelling in Arabia, he tells us that if the Government catch a robber they dare not hang him They must pay black mail, and yet be shot at in every pass. They affect superiority over the Arabs, hate them, and are despised by them. Such in El Hejaz are the effects of the charter of Gutbaneb, a panaco a like Holloway's pills for all the evils to which Turkish, Arab, Syrian, Greek, Egyptian, Persian, Armesian, Karl, and Albanian flesh is heir to. Such the results of the Tanzinisit, the silliest copy of Europe's folly—burenucracy and centrali sation—that the pen of empirical statecraft ever traced. Ender a strong-handed and strong•hearted despotism like M o hammed Ali's, El Hejaz, in one generation, might be • Zit