The reflection was pleasant,—the idea that
the humble Haji, contemplating the scene from his donkey, might become
the instrument of the total abolition of this pernicious
traffic.[FN#11] What would have become of that pilgrim had the crowd in
the slave-market guessed his intentions?
Passing through the large bazar, called the Suk al-Layl, I saw the
palace of Mohammed bin Aun, quondam Prince of Meccah. It has a certain
look of rude magnificence,
[p.253] the effect of huge hanging balconies scattered in profusion
over lofty walls, claire-voies of brickwork, and courses of
various-coloured stone. The owner is highly popular among the Badawin,
and feared by the citizens on account of his fierce looks, courage, and
treachery. They described him to me as vir bonus, bene strangulando
peritus; but Mr. Cole, who knew him personally, gave him a high
character for generosity and freedom from fanaticism. He seems to have
some idea of the state which should “hedge in” a ruler. His palaces at
Meccah, and that now turned into a Wakalah at Jeddah, are the only
places in the country that can be called princely. He is now a state
prisoner at Constantinople, and the Badawin pray in vain for his
return.[FN#12]
The other places of pious visitation at Meccah are briefly these:—
1. Natak al-Nabi, a small oratory in the Zukak al-Hajar. It derives its
name from the following circumstance.
[p.254] As the Prophet was knocking at the door of Abu Bakr’s shop, a
stone gave him God-speed, and told him that the master was not at home.
The wonderful mineral is of a reddish-black colour, about a foot in
dimension, and fixed in the wall somewhat higher than a man’s head. There
are servants attached to it, and the street sides are spread, as usual,
with the napkins of importunate beggars.
2. Maulid al-Nabi, or the Prophet’s birthplace.[FN#13] It is a little
chapel in the Suk al-Layl, not far from Mohammed bin Aun’s palace. It is
below the present level of the ground, and in the centre is a kind of
tent, concealing, it is said, a hole in the floor upon which Aminah sat
to be delivered.
3. In the quarter “Sha’ab Ali,” near the Maulid al-Nabi, is the birthplace of
Ali, another oratory below the ground. Here, as in the former place, a
Maulid and a Ziyarah are held on the anniversary of the Lion’s birth.
4. Near Khadijah’s house and the Natak al-Nabi is a place called
Al-Muttaka, from a stone against which the Prophet leaned when worn out
with fatigue. It is much visited by devotees; and some declare that on
one occasion, when the Father of Lies appeared to the Prophet in the
form of an elderly man, and tempted him to sin by asserting that the
Mosque-prayers were over, this stone, disclosing the fraud, caused the
Fiend to flee.
5. Maulid Hamzah, a little building at the old Bab Umrah, near the
Shabayki cemetery. Here was the Bazan, or channel down which the Ayn
Hunayn ran into the Birkat Majid. Many authorities doubt that Hamzah
was born at this place.[FN#14]
[p.255] The reader must now be as tired of “Pious Visitations” as I was.
Before leaving Meccah I was urgently invited to dine by old Ali bin Ya
Sin, the Zemzemi; a proof that he entertained inordinate expectations,
excited, it appeared, by the boy Mohammed, for the simple purpose of
exalting his own dignity. One day we were hurriedly summoned about
three P.M. to the senior’s house, a large building in the Zukak al-Hajar.
We found it full of pilgrims, amongst whom we had no trouble to
recognise our fellow-travellers, the quarrelsome old Arnaut and his
impudent slave-boy. Ali met us upon the staircase, and conducted us
into an upper room, where we sat upon diwans, and with pipes and coffee
prepared for dinner. Presently the semicircle arose to receive a
eunuch, who lodged somewhere in the house. He was a person of
importance, being the guardian of some dames of high degree at Cairo
and Constantinople: the highest place and
[p.256] the best pipe were unhesitatingly offered to and accepted by
him. He sat down with dignity, answered diplomatically certain
mysterious questions about the dames, and applied his blubber lips to a
handsome mouthpiece of lemon-coloured amber. It was a fair lesson of
humility for a man to find himself ranked beneath this high-shouldered,
spindle-shanked, beardless bit of neutrality; and as such I took it
duly to heart.
The dinner was served up in a Sini, a plated copper tray about six feet
in circumference, and handsomely ornamented with arabesques and
inscriptions. Under this was the usual Kursi, or stool, composed of
mother-o’-pearl facets set in sandal-wood; and upon it a well-tinned and
clean-looking service of the same material as the Sini. We began with a
variety of stews—stews with spinach, stews with Bamiyah (hibiscus), and
rich vegetable stews. These being removed, we dipped hands in Biryani,
a meat pillaw, abounding in clarified butter; Kimah, finely chopped
meat; Warak Mahshi, vine leaves filled with chopped and spiced mutton,
and folded into small triangles; Kabab, or bits of roti spitted in
mouthfuls upon a splinter of wood; together with a Salatah of the
crispest cucumber, and various dishes of water-melon cut up into
squares.
Bread was represented by the Eastern scone, but it was of superior
flavour, and far better than the ill-famed Chapati of India. Our drink
was water perfumed with mastic. After the meat came a Kunafah, fine
vermicelli sweetened with honey, and sprinkled with powdered white
sugar; several stews of apples and quinces; Muhallibah, a thin jelly
made of rice, flour, milk, starch, and a little perfume; together with
squares of Rahah,[FN#15] a confiture
[p.257] highly prized in these regions, because it comes from
Constantinople.
