The Nestorians and their Rituals/Volume 1/Chapter 21
CHAPTER XXI.
May 24th.—Hearing that a large force of the Shammar, under Sufoog, was encamped at a short distance from Harrân, we availed ourselves of the escort of Husein, one of the tribe who had been sent to Urfah, on important business, to visit this renowned Arab chieftain. Husein, on learning my relationship to Mr. Rassam, who is a great friend of Sufoog, readily engaged to conduct us to the encampment, on condition that we went unattended by any guards from the local authorities, whose presence, he said, might excite suspicion among the Arabs, and give them the idea that we distrusted their good-will and fidelity. He informed us that the Shammar had come into these parts, at the request of government, to chastise a section of the great Aniza tribe who had lately crossed the Euphrates, joined some rebellious Berazîa Coords in the Serooj, and committed great depredations in that district. The Turks not being able to cope with these wandering marauders themselves, had called upon Sufoog, the recognized Sheikh of the desert east of the Euphrates, to undertake the task. With the assistance of a company of infantry, the Shammar had chased the Aniza back to their haunts, and the Berazîa had laid down their arms, promising obedience for the future.
Mrs. Badger, Mr. Fletcher, Mr. Rassam's brother, and I, accompanied by our Greek servant, and an Armenian pedlar, who seized the opportunity to ply his trade among the Arabs, left the Harrân gate at 10 a.m., preceded by our swarthy guide. Husein was highly pleased to have escaped from the town, and on passing the gardens flourished his master's spear, the token of the trust which had been committed to him, and seemed to snuff up with delight the air of his native desert. The ambassador of the chief of a hundred thousand Arabs was dressed in a long shirt, black with dirt, gathered to his waist by an old sword-belt, and on his head he wore the agheil and agheiliyya (the coloured kerchief and camel's-hair rope), which form the usual turban of the Bedooeen. We first journeyed to the southeast towards Harrân, but hearing on the road that Sufoog had moved his position, we turned directly south, having on our right the low Urfah hills, at the foot of which the Jès Arabs were encamped. The plain is bounded on the east by a range of hills called Jebel Taktak, running N.N.E. by S.S.W., which seems to join another range called Garamoosh, lying more to the north, in which a large Armenian village of the same name is situated. The plain is inhabited chiefly by Militsh Coords, whose villages are generally built under the shelter of a mound, of which there are a great number in this district. At noon we reached Telles-Sultân, a village of pyramidal clay huts, which from a distance looked like a collection of white ant hillocks. The villagers had left these habitations, and had sought refuge in their tents from the fleas which infest them, especially during spring. A little beyond we called at the tent of Musto, the chief of the Militsh, whose people Sufoog had charged with having stolen half a dozen horses belonging to his tribe. The authorities at Urfah had sent a mounted kawass, with two of Sufoog's men, to demand the restoration of the plunder; these were quietly smoking their pipes on the ground, but Musto had decamped. At 2 p.m. all cultivation ceased, and we were now entering the desert, the home of the wild descendants of Ishmael. Meeting an Arab who had just come from Racca, he informed us that Sufoog had again moved to the south-east of Harrân; so we altered our course accordingly, and at 5 p.m. came in sight of the encampment, stretching for about four miles along the western bank of the Jullâb, and surrounded by immense droves of camels, sheep, and horses. Husein rode forward to announce our arrival, and soon returned with the Sheikh's welcome, who it appears had already been apprised of our intended visit. A small black tent had been pitched for our party, into which I first conducted Mrs. Badger, and then repaired to the large tent, where as many as three hundred of the elders of the tribe were holding a council. On my approach all rose, and Sufoog coming forward saluted me with a shake of the hand, and placed me at his side on a dirty carpet and cushion, the only domestic furniture, with the exception of a hole in the ground for a fireplace, and several rude utensils for roasting, pounding, and making coffee. The Sheikh was clothed in a shirt (not over clean), a cotton gown bound round the waist with a common girdle, over which a coarse aba, or cloak, was thrown; the kerchief and camel's-hair rope completed his attire. Although he appeared to welcome us heartily, yet he spoke but little, and confined his first inquiries to the movements of the Turkish army, the entrance of the new Pasha into Mosul, and the probable prospects of Bedr Khan Beg, the fame of whose exploits had reached into the heart of the desert. He looked like a man forty years old, spare made, with black hair, and a short beard, which anxiety rather than age had somewhat whitened. His countenance evinced deep thought, not unmixed with cunning, while his bronzed face and arms bespoke his exposure to the burning sun of the desert. It would be difficult to convey an adequate idea of the swarthy beings, the heads of the tribes, who lined the tent in two rows, the foremost seated, and the hindermost standing, the better to see and hear what was going forward. Their dress was simple in the extreme, and consisted of the usual long shirt and flowing head-dress of the Bedooeen, from beneath which their black hair was allowed to hang in a long curl down each side of the face. Their countenances bespoke craft and distrust, and there was nothing in their demeanour calculated to inspire one with confidence. Scarcely a word was uttered by them during my interview with the Sheikh, and they continued to smoke their pipes in sullen silence and unconcern, ever and anon throwing a glance at me, which seemed to say: "You are safe now, but had we met you on the road, we should have seized the opportunity to exchange our filthy, greasy attire, for your clean and better habiliments."
Having brought with us a present for Sufoog, I asked whether it should be produced, but he begged me to defer offering it to hira until he was alone, fearing no doubt that some of his chiefs might claim a share. Late in the evening he came unattended to our tent, when the present was opened out before him in due form, and Mrs. Badger then paid Amshé, his favourite wife, a complimentary visit for a similar purpose. Her description of this lady, and the domestic life of the other females of the harem, confirmed me in the opinion that the Arabs are the dirtiest people under the sun.
Our supper was sent us from the Sheikh's tent, and consisted of a boiled lamb, wheaten cakes, two immense dishes of pilau, and four bowls of sour milk mixed with shreds of garlic. I observed that the Arabs gave us two cups of coffee, and even a third; whereas, among the Turks and other orientals, the offering of a second cup to a guest would be regarded as a hint that his company was no longer desired.
We retired to rest soon after supper, Mrs. Badger and I in one tent, and the remainder of our party in another close by. We had not lain long when the wind blew a perfect hurricane, the rain descended in torrents, and our frail dwelling-place was carried away from our heads. We were now in the most miserable plight imaginable, our clothes and bedding were thoroughly drenched, and we were exposed to the violence of the storm without any shelter, as most of the tents in the neighbourhood had shared a similar fate. Amshé's tent was no longer to be seen, whilst her husband was comfortably lodged in one more securely pitched with one of his concubines, of whom he had four. The Arabs soon came and assisted to raise our fallen habitation, and we afterwards slept soundly, little dreaming that we were in the midst of thieves. In the morning, however, we found to our dismay that my travelling boots, which Sufoog himself had coveted the day before, and several articles of Mrs. Badger's dress, had been purloined during the night; and not having brought any change with us, Mrs. Badger was obliged to put on a silk garment which we had intended to give to the guide Husein, and I was reduced to the necessity of riding barefoot. Sufoog, on hearing of the robbery, sent his son Ferhan to examine all the tents in the vicinity; but to no avail, the articles were not to be found. This treacherous conduct on the part of the Arabs determined me to leave without delay, and I communicated my intentions to Sufoog. He, however, would not hear of our departure, and told us decidedly that we should not go. I afterwards learned that being at enmity with some of the neighbouring tribes, he wished to detain us for his own security, and had accordingly despatched messengers far and wide to spread the intelligence that a Frank of great consequence had been sent to him on a mission from the government. What could we do? we were now in his hands, and were obliged to submit with the best grace possible.
Early in the morning we observed that the whole camp was in motion, and on inquiring the cause were told that they intended to seek a better site on the eastern bank of the Jullâb. This was a mere excuse, for I afterwards found, that fearing an attack from a hostile tribe, they deemed it more secure to have the river between them and their enemies. The striking of the tents, the lading of the camels, the bustle of collecting together all the cattle dispersed in the vicinity, made up a lively scene. All being now ready the troop began to move, the men mounted on their horses, some of the women walking, whilst others higher in rank rode on camels, their children's heads peering out of the saddle-bags on either side. These little urchins seemed quite at their ease, clapped their hands, and screamed with delight, as the caravan moved forward. One, a girl of about nine years old, begged her father to allow her to ride; the barbarian felled her to the ground with a blow of his fist, whilst Sufoog looked on and commended this act of brutality. On expostulating with him he appeared surprised at the interest which I took in the child, and supposing that I had mistaken the sex said naively, "Why! she is a girl, not a boy;" as though this circumstance was more than sufficient to sanction such inhumanity.
We crossed the Jullâb, here nothing more than a muddy stream three feet wide, and in less than an hour all the tents were pitched, and everything had resumed its former order. Our breakfast, consisting of butter, honey, and cream, was now sent to us, after partaking of which I again repaired to the council tent, and took my seat by the side of the Sheikh. Sufoog appeared more reserved than ever, a deep gloom had settled oil his countenance, and he scarcely uttered a word. This silence was soon broken by the approach of a party of spearmen, bringing with them a large booty in tents, camels, and sheep. Sufoog looked sad and disconcerted at this sight, and hardly spoke while the new comers took their seats among the rest of the assembled Bedooeen. On inquiring from whence the plundering party had come, one of the Arabs gave me the following account of the whole affair. It appears that the Sayeh tribe had been at variance for some time with the Shammar, and that in one of the engagements that had taken place between them a cousin of Sufoog had lost his hand. Peace was finally agreed on, and Sufoog had given his word and oath that the Sayeh might pasture their flocks in perfect security, promising that blood should not be demanded for the injury which his cousin had sustained. In accordance with this understanding a division of the Sayeh had pitched their tents a few miles distant from the encampment of the Shammar, little thinking that the treaty which had been sealed with so high a sanction as Sufoog's oath was so soon to be violated. Without the knowledge of their chief, a party of the Shammar set off during the preceding night, fell upon the unwary Sayeh, killed several of their number, and carried away with them the booty which has already been described. One of the assailants, a Sheikh of Sufoog's tribe, was wounded severely in the neck with a spear, and we hastened to apply such remedies as we deemed most suitable. The unfortunate man sat by the fire, quite unconscious of what was going on, but without uttering a word of complaint. Sufoog was evidently puzzled what course to pursue: his own people were at variance among themselves, and he evidently did not think it prudent openly to condemn the conduct of his cousin's followers. Yet he must take some notice of the complaints which two envoys from the Sayeh had come to lay before him, for these he knew would reproach him with the violation of his oath. He accordingly despatched his son Ferhân to learn their intentions, and told the assembled Bedooeen that if the conquered tribe manifested any design of joining the Aniza, he would immediately attack them; but if they were willing to come to terms the booty should be restored and every possible reparation made. The Shammar sheikhs now divested themselves of their chain armour, which was made in the shape of a shirt with a high collar, coffee was handed to them, and the wounded man was invested with a cloak of honour as a reward for his bravery. News was then brought that the Sayeh were not likely to listen to the terms proposed, and this intelligence threw a fresh gloom over the assembled Arabs. Sufoog was evidently thinking what was to be done, and from some signs which passed between them I concluded that the heads of the Shammar had determined upon a fresh battle with their neighbours. Not relishing the idea of mixing in an affray of this nature I repaired to our tent determined to make an effort to leave the encampment.
As soon as we got our mules together I sent to inform Sufoog that we were about to start: he still protested against our departure, but finding me decided he at length gave his assent. He then presented Mrs. Badger and myself with a horse, and gave one also to our Greek servant. The Armenian pedlar, who professed to be a judge in such matters, discovered several defects in the animal offered to me, and pressed me to refuse it. I endeavoured to show the fellow the impropriety of such a course, but not satisfied with this he went to Sufoog himself and told him that I was discontented with his present. The Sheikh then came out, and after examining the creature, which it appears he had just purchased from one of his tribe for several camels and sheep, pronounced it sound and good in every respect. We now strung the three horses together, mine being the hindmost, and started from the encampment. We had not proceeded more than a couple of miles, when the former owner, disgusted that a horse of his should have been decried, came quietly in the rear of our caravan, loosed the horse from its fellow, jumped on his back, and before we were hardly aware of his presence plunged into the desert and was soon out of sight. We were too glad to have escaped from the encampment to think of returning, so leaving the horse to the Arabs we continued our journey towards Harrân.
The following account of the different streams in this district may not be uninteresting to geographers. The Jullâb rises at a place called Deeb Hisâr to the east of the Garamoosh range, runs in a southerly direction, and is met a little south of Harrân by the Kara Koyoon and Koti rivulets. The former, as has already been noticed, flows from the north-west of Urfah, from a place called Keshishlek, and is joined about two hours below the town by the water from the mosque of Ibraheem Khaleel. Some distance south of this junction several springs form a small rivulet called the Koti, which also flows into the Kara Koyoon. The Jullab winds its solitary way through the desert for about ten miles south of Harrân, when it is increased by another stream formed by several springs rising near the shrine of Ibraheem Khaleel, and called Jullâb-oot-Toorkmân. Some hours farther south the united Jullâbs are joined by the Beleekh and flow into the Euphrates at Racca. Harrân is about thirty miles from Racca.
We left Sufoog's encampment at 2 p.m., and travelled over a barren road for two hours, when we came in sight of fields of wheat and barley which had been entirely destroyed by the wind and hail of the preceding evening. The soil here is alluvial, owing to the overflowing of the Jullâb, and is tolerably well cultivated by the Arabs of the district. We reached Harrân at 5 p.m. and the brother of Shlash, the chief of the Jès Arabs, volunteered to conduct us through the place. Harrân stands on two low hills, and from the traces of old foundations appears to have been encircled with a wall which joined on to the castle. The castle is of an irregular shape, and built chiefly of bricks very much resembling those which have been dug up at Nimrood and Nineveh. On the projecting angles of this ruined edifice the Arabs have erected their conical huts with the bricks which are scattered about most plentifully in every part of the enclosed space. Not far from the castle is a small eminence literally covered with several hundred of these quaint-looking habitations, some of which consist of three cones, whilst others have no more than one. All were now deserted, the Arabs having taken to their tents to escape from the vermin which infest them during this season. Pursuing our way over mounds of rubbish and lines of old foundations, we came to about the centre of the area, where we found the skeleton remains of the principal building in the place, but for what purpose originally intended it is somewhat difficult to decide. My impression is that it was designed for a Christian temple, and was afterwards converted
RUINS OF HARRAN.
into a Mohammedan place of worship by the Saracens, and this idea is borne out by the modern name of Jamaa-el-Ahmar, or the Red Mosque, by which the Arabs still designate it. It is of an oblong form, and is built east and west, with three parallel walls running the entire length of the interior and dividing it into four unequal aisles. The centre of the eastern wall, where the altar may be supposed to have stood, is ornamented with two Corinthian pillars, and the partition walls are pierced with arches supported here and there with columns of the same order. In the north-east angle is a square tower about sixty feet high, the lower part built of stone, and the upper of brick, which I imagine to have been once a belfry, and then a minaret. The tower is visible from the castle at Urfah, and from many miles distant in the desert south of Harrân. In the northern aisle is a circular fountain, which there can be no doubt was introduced for religious ablutions by the Mohammedans when the building was used as a mosque. The same addition has been made to the old church in Urfah, which is now the Oloor Jamesi, as has been already noticed.
Judging from the foundations still extant the city wall was about three miles in extent, and circular in form. It appears also to have been defended in its weaker points by a deep fosse, which is now partly filled up. Just outside the wall to the south-west is the modern Mussulman shrine called Ziyaret Sheikh Yahya (John); but the Christians have a tradition that the grave of Terah, Abraham's father, exists within its precincts. The conduct of Shlash's brother, my guide, and of two other Arabs who had joined him while I was examining the ruins, prevented me from extending ray researches into the interior of the castle, where I understood there are several ancient vaults, one containing two small and beautiful pillars each crowned with a lotus blossom. The savage-looking fellows, who were armed with clubs hid beneath their cloaks, first tried to decoy me into one of the subterraneous passages, promising to show me something very wonderful; but finding me on my guard they charged me in the most insolent manner with a desire to excavate for treasure. Being alone, and unprovided with any weapon of defence, I strolled about hither and thither hoping to meet some of our party. On reaching the summit of a mound from whence I could be seen by them, the two Arabs took their departure, and my guide accompanied me to the tent where I found Shlash himself, the sheikh of the Jès tribe, who had come to pay us a visit. He is a fine young man with a frank and open countenance, which contrasted strikingly with the villanous look of his brother,—a notoriously bad character, who was imprisoned at Urfah for nine months for having been an accomplice in the murder of two Turks, and would have been hung had not his brother ransomed him by the payment of a large sum of money. Shlash informed me that the Jès were all Igrâwy, that is village-dwelling Arabs, who cultivate the soil, but in seasons of scarcity roam about in the desert like the Bedooeen, and sometimes cross the Euphrates. They are not numerous now, having suffered much from the Aniza and Shammar, and from the exactions and tyranny of the Turkish government. They are considered a most treacherous set by the people of Urfah, and if all that is told of their secret murders may be relied on, they are not much behind the Thugs of India in dexterous atrocities. The only Englishman whom Shlash remembered to have seen at Harran previous to our visit was Captain Lynch of the Indian navy, whose name he was quite familiar with.
May 25th.—Long before day-break three or four runaway Arabs came to Harrân bringing the intelligence that the Sayeh had attacked the Shammar during the night, and that a fierce conflict had ensued in which many lives were lost on both sides. The Sheikh, whose wound we had dressed, had also died, and the whole encampment was in confusion. We left Harrân at 4 a.m., glad to have escaped the melee, and at the distance of half-a-mile from the village saw the well where Jacob is said to have had his first interview with his cousin Rachel (Gen. xxix. 1—8.) The flocks of the Arab are still watered there, and there, close by the well's mouth, are several large stones, one of which Jacob's hands may have touched when he wooed the "beautiful and well-favoured Rachel." There are two or three other wells in the vicinity, but this is the only one near Harrân containing sweet water, the rest being brackish; so I think there is good reason to believe the authenticity of the tradition attached to the "Beer Yaacoob." We followed the direct route to Urfah, cantered the greater part of the way, and in less than five hours entered the town, where we were again welcomed by our kind host Mokdisi Yeshua.
I shall now offer a few remarks upon the character of the Bedooeen Arabs, and in so doing shall endeavour to estimate aright their virtues and their vices. My first acquaintance with them began in 1835, when I travelled through Syria and Palestine to the borders of the Euphrates; and during my two visits to Mosul I had frequent opportunities of mixing with them, and of conversing with many of the chiefs, who are all well known to Mr. Rassam. The halo of romance, which eastern tales and the flowery narratives of some modern travellers, had thrown around this interesting people, gradually disappeared, together with my own fanciful prepossessions in their favour, as I became more intimately acquainted with their domestic and social habits, and began to perceive that the gay hues in which they had been depicted, were rather the pencillings of the imagination, than the sober colours of reality and truth. It is not to be questioned but that the Arabs are endowed with a few good and sterling qualities, the want of which among the dwellers of the towns and villages, and not any pre-eminence in those qualities, constitutes the real difference between the two classes. They are remarkable for temperance in eating and drinking, for great powers of endurance, and for an independent bearing, as far removed from the haughtiness of the Turk, as it is from the cringing servility of the long-oppressed rayah. But these peculiarities spring almost of necessity from their mode
JACOB'S WELL AT HARRAN.
of life, from the desert which they inhabit, and from the form of government which exists among them. I do not consider them brave in fight, except when the advantage of position and numbers is on their side, or when they are driven to desperation. Their courage is in fact nearly allied to cowardice, for they will fearlessly attack a caravan tended by muleteers, or protected by a few inexperienced guards, but they will seldom dare to approach an escort of regular soldiery, however small it may happen to be. In this respect, indeed, they may be regarded as common robbers, who will filch and steal from such as can offer them little or no resistance. Their hospitality, which has been so highly extolled, is certainly not greater or more genuine than that of most orientals; and I doubt whether a Bedooeen ever gives any thing away without expecting a fourfold return. Travellers in general write in very pretty strains of their reception by the Arabs of the desert; but they seldom tell us how much they paid for the compliment. They are bountiful to their entertainers because they are delighted to find themselves secure among a band of marauders, for the novelty of the thing, or because they wish to conciliate them; and the Arabs, as a matter of course, treat them with respect and consideration. But not feeling the same interest in their situation when they happen to be in a common town or village, they are less liberally and graciously disposed, and then they wonder that the natives do not appear so well satisfied as the Arabs did. The Arabs, moreover, they generally affect to treat as equals, perhaps as superiors for the nonce, and their servants and interpreters, if they have any such with them, adopt a similar line of conduct, well knowing that their accustomed insolence would not be brooked by the proud sons of Ishmael. But how do European travellers usually conduct themselves in the towns and villages of Turkey? Why, for the most part, they assume the haughty swagger of the Turk, and look down upon the natives as slaves, in which they are exceeded by their domestics who, because they know that they can do so with impunity, act in the most overbearing manner towards their fellow subjects. I am not now imagining a case; I have seen many such instances, and from my intimate knowledge of the easterns generally, I feel assured, that if travellers would treat the town and village-dwelling people as they find they must treat the Bedooeen, they would never have to complain of their inattention or want of hospitality.
Another bad feature in the Arab character is covetousness: they are seldom satisfied with the remuneration offered for their services, and will beg the traveller's boots, handkerchief, gun, or any thing else, with the greatest importunity and barefacedness. They are dirty to a proverb, both in their food and clothing, and are frequently known to put on a shirt which is never changed or washed until it is worn out and replaced by a new one. They know nothing of letters, and are consequently very ignorant: each tribe has a Moollah or two, whose chief business is to write for the Sheikh, and to recite passages of the Korân, but their office is not held in high repute, for the Arabs are an irreligious people, though in many respects bigoted in their attachment to Mohammed. They seldom observe the set times of prayer, and there are generally a few in each encampment who pray for the remainder in rotation, which they deem equivalent to their performance of the duty individually. I have occasionally spoken with the Bedooeen respecting the state after death, and was not a little surprised to find that their idea of future happiness was not unlike that of the American Indians. The desert Arab appears to believe that his favourite mare will be his companion hereafter, and that in the revelry of sensual delights he shall enjoy beyond the grave the paradise of the False Prophet.
It is deeply to be regretted, that instead of seeking to improve the moral and social condition of this people, the Turks have done all in their power to render every thing like subjection to authority obnoxious to them, insomuch that the very name of Osmanli is execrated by the Bedooeen. For, what is there in the circumstances of the other subjects of the Porte to induce the Arabs to give up their present freedom, and to follow some more settled and useful occupation than that of incessantly roving about from place to place, doing nothing more than tending their flocks and breeding horses, not to speak of their freebooting propensities, from which they doubtless derive no little profit? They would have every thing to lose by the exchange, and nothing to gain, and hence we may conclude that they will remain just what they are until a more equitable system of government is adopted throughout the Turkish provinces. If this were once effected, I, for my own part, am far from believing that the Bedooeen could not be reclaimed, if proper measures were pursued to that end. The erection of a line of forts through the desert, and the offer of protection to such as should settle in the vicinity of the same, would, I am persuaded, induce many to abandon their nomade habits; a number of villages would spring up in the wilderness, commerce would flourish, the roads now closed to the merchant and traveller would be opened, and the way would thus be prepared for greater improvements, and eventually, it is to be hoped, for the preaching of the Gospel among the wild descendants of Abraham's injured and exiled son.
Mr. Layard has given a graphic account of his visit to the Shammar tribe, and of his reception by Sufoog, whom he met at El Hadhr about a year after the events related in the foregoing narrative. He also gives an interesting biography of that renowned chieftain, and of his murder by Nejib Pasha of Baghdad, in 1848, which will amply repay a careful perusal. The whole chapter is strikingly illustrative of the habits and customs of the Bedooeen, and of the form of government which prevails among those who inhabit the great desert east of the Euphrates.