The pashas of the frontier provinces repay these constant depredations with repressive measures on a big scale and are not concerned about the individuals who are made to suffer. When they saunter forth with a few regiments of regular cavalry and a field gun they are sure to scatter even the biggest _ashiret_ or encampment. The Arab does not like to stand his ground against gun-fire and never resists an artillery-attack which he cannot of course return. He does not fear so much for his own life, as for that of his horse, for a full blooded mare often makes up the whole wealth of three or four families. Woe to the horse which with us is owned by three or four masters. With the Arabs it has as many friends to take care of it.
When the Turks succeed in surprising an _ashiret_ they take away the herds of sheep and goats, a few camels, and possibly some hostages whom they keep in miserable bondage. In a small hut or stable of the serail of Orfa I found nine old men. A heavy chain attached to rings around their necks fastened the one to the other, and twice daily they were driven to the watering trough just like cattle. The Turks had demanded of their tribe the exorbitant ransom of 150,000 piasters, of which one third had actually been offered. When I saw the old men, there was little chance of their ever being ransomed at all. The pasha, however, promised me that he would set them free. I do not know whether he kept his word.
Such examples do not deter the Arabs, and, as far as their horses are able to go, no settlement can endure. The entire southern slope of the Taurus, the ancient Oszoene, is dotted with indications of their devastation. Here wonderful brooks are flowing from the mountains, and a superabundant supply of water, a hot and ever bright sky, and a most fertile soil have combined in creating a paradise, if only men would not always destroy it. Snow is unknown here, and olive-trees, vines, mulberry trees, palms and pomegranate trees spring up wherever you guide a stream of water, however small, while the yield of grain, rice, and cotton is phenomenal. But of Karrat, now Harran, the seat of Abraham, only a mound of earth and a few crumbled walls remain. Dara, the magnificent creation of Justinian, lies in ruins, and on the site of Nisibin, which had been completely destroyed, Hafiss-Pasha has built only recently some new cavalry barracks, under whose protection the city and the surrounding villages have taken a new lease of life.
Orfa and Mossul finally, the only large cities, appear like outposts of Mesopotamia.
In their robber-expeditions the Arabs have the hope of booty before them and behind them the a.s.surance of a safe retreat. They alone know the pasturing grounds and the hidden wells of the desert, they alone can live in these regions, and do so by the help of the camel. This animal, which can carry a load of from five hundred to six hundred pounds, takes all their property, their wives, children, and old men, their tents, provisions and water from one place to another. It can make six, eight, even ten days" marches without drinking, and a fifth stomach keeps a final draft in reserve in case of greatest need. Its hair is made into garments and cloth for the tents; its urine yields salt, its droppings are used for fuel and, in caves, are transformed into saltpeter from which the Arabs make their own gunpowder. The milk of the camel serves as food not only for the children, but also for the colts, which grow thin but strong like our horses when they are in training. Camel meat is tasty and wholesome, and even the skin and the bones of a camel are good for something. The most wretched feed, dry gra.s.s, thistles and brambles, satisfies this patient, strong, helpless and most useful of all animals. Next to the camels, which even the poorest Arab owns in almost incredible numbers, the horses represent the chief wealth of these children of the desert. It is well known that these animals grow up in the tents together with the children of the family with whom they share food, deprivations and hardships, and that the birth of a colt of fine lineage marks a day of joy in the whole _ashiret_.
In Europe the Arabian horses are cla.s.sified according to an erroneous and incomplete system. I am thinking especially of their division into _Kohilans_ and _Nedshdis_. This latter name designates the numerous tribe of Arabs inhabiting the high plateau of the interior of Arabia, and breeding, it is true, excellent horses. But just as little as every Arabian horse is full blooded, just as little every _Nedshdi_ is a _Kohilan_. This is the whole matter: _Kohilan_ was the favorite horse of Hasaret-Suleiman-Peigamber (His Highness Solomon the Prophet). It is, moreover, true and no legend that the better horses receive at birth their family-tree, in which their parents, and often their grandfathers, are mentioned, and which they carry through life, generally in a triangular capsule, by a string around their neck. In the course of centuries several of Kohilan"s descendants have so greatly distinguished themselves that they have become sires of note in their own name. Among the most notable descendants of Kohilan I heard mentioned the colts of Meneghi, and next of Terafi, Djelevi, Sakali, and many more. Mahomet himself rode a Kohilan of the family of Meneghi on his flight from Medina. You understand, therefore, that not every Nedshdi has to be full-blooded, and that a Kohilan may be as well an Aenesi or Shamarly as a Nedshdi.
The Arabs of the race of Shamarr who camp in the country between the two rivers, and who can muster ten thousand mounted men, had recently been guilty of many robberies, and had refused to recognize the new sheikh whom the Porte had appointed over them.
Hafiss-Pasha, therefore, decided to give them a most thorough chastis.e.m.e.nt. The pashas of Orfa and of Mardin were to march against them, and he wanted to have the pasha of Mossul, who is not under his jurisdiction, do the same. If this had been done, the Arabs would have been forced back against the Euphrates, beyond which the Aenesi Arabs live who are hostile to them. But Indshe-Bairaktar did not fancy an expedition which was expensive and promised little booty. When finally definite orders came from the Bagdad-Valesi, the other pashas had already scared away the enemy, who had disappeared into unknown regions.
After a brief and interesting sojourn, therefore, we decided to return through the desert with a caravan which was on the point of starting.
Since the Arabs had been greatly incensed by the recent attacks, the expedition was increased by forty hors.e.m.e.n. We joined it toward evening in its encampment, about two hours from Mossul, near the Tigris where everybody wished to have one more last good fill of water. The _Kyerwan-Bashi,_ or leader of the caravan, whom the pasha had notified of our arrival, at once made his appearance and had his tent made ready for us. He also presented us with a goat for supper.
For five days we traversed the _Tsull,_ or desert of northern Mesopotamia, without seeing any human habitations. You must not think of this desert as a sea of sand, but as an interminable green plain with only occasional, very slight undulations. The Arabs call it _Bahr,_ the sea, and the caravans proceed in an absolutely straight line, taking their direction from artificial mounts which rise above the plain like prehistoric graves. They indicate that once upon a time a village existed here, and that, therefore, a well or a spring must be nearby. But the mounts often are six, ten or even twelve hours distant the one from the other. The villages have disappeared, the wells have gone dry, and the rivulets are bitterly salt. A few weeks later this green plain which now is nourished by copious daily dews will be a wild waste parched by the sun. The luxuriant growth of gra.s.s which today reaches to our stirrups will be withered and every water-course run dry. Then it will be necessary to follow the Tigris in a wide detour, and none but the ships of the desert, the camels, will be able to traverse this plain, and they only by night.
Our caravan consists of six hundred camels and four hundred mules. The big bags carried by the former contain almost exclusively palm-nuts for the dye houses of Aleppo, and cotton. The more valuable part of the freight, silk from Bagdad and shawls from Persia, pearls from Ba.s.sora, and good silver money which in Constantinople will be recoined into bad piasters, is small in proportion to the bulk carried.
The camels go in strings of from ten to twenty, one behind the other.
The owner rides ahead on a small donkey, and although his stirrups are short his feet almost touch the ground. He is continually shoving his pointed slippers into the flanks of his poor beast and placidly smoking his pipe. His servants are on foot. Unless the donkey leads, the camels refuse to stir. With long thoughtful strides they move along, reaching the while with their thin restless necks for thistles or thorns by the roadside. The mules are walking at a brisk pace.
They are decorated with little bells and beautiful halters gaily set with sh.e.l.ls.
When the caravan has come to the place where the night is to be spent, the _Kjerwan-Bashi_ canters ahead and designates the exact spot for the camp. The beasts of burden are unloaded as they arrive, and the huge bags are placed together as a kind of fortification in the shape of a quadrangle, within which each one prepares himself a place of rest. Our tent, which was the only one in the caravan, stood outside and was given a special guard of _Bashi-Bazouks_. The camels and mules were turned loose in the high gra.s.s where they were expected to look also for all the water they needed.
As soon as it grows dark the camels, which have roved often at half an hour"s distance, are collected. The leaders call to them, and since each one knows his master"s poah! poah! they obediently come home.
They are arranged in rows within the quadrangle. The smallest boy can control these big, strong, yet harmless and helpless animals. He calls: Krr! krr! and the huge beasts patiently sink to their knees.
Then they fold their hind legs, and after a series of strange, undulating movements all are lying in regular rows, moving their long necks in every direction and looking about. I have always noticed the resemblance of a camel"s neck with that of an ostrich, and the Turks call these birds _deve-kush_, the camel-birds. A thin cord is then tied around one bent knee of each camel. If it should rise it would have to stand on three legs, and would be unable to move.
On this evening we were visited by several friendly Arabs, short and thin, but strong and sinewy people. Their complexion was yellowish-brown, their eyes were small and vivacious. An a.s.sumed dignity barely disguised their native vivacity, and their guttural speech reminded us very strongly of the Jews. Their dress consisted of a rough cotton shirt, a white woolen cloak and a red and yellow kerchief, half-silk, which each man had fastened about his head with a string, just as you see it on the Egyptian statues.
[Ill.u.s.tration: MOLTKE AT SEDAN ANTON VON WERNER]
Hunting-in the _Tshull_ is highly successful. There are countless gazelles, pheasants and partridges hiding in the tall gra.s.s. On the third day we were just on the point of following some bustards, which clumsily rise on their wings and after some time descend again to the ground, when a general alarm arose in the caravan. "The Arabs are coming!" was shouted everywhere. A throng had been noticed in the distance approaching very rapidly. The head of our column stopped, but since our whole caravan was stretched out to the length of approximately four miles, there was little hope of protecting it with a guard of some sixty armed men. The hors.e.m.e.n galloped ahead to an artificial mount, where the Arabs were pointed out to me. There were indeed numerous black spots moving rapidly through the plain, but since I had a small telescope with me I could quickly convince my companions that what we saw before us was nothing but a huge herd of wild boars bearing down upon us. Soon the beasts could be recognized with the naked eye.
Tonight the _Kjerwan-Bashi_ told me a characteristic story of an Arab which I had heard before in Orfa.
A Turkish general of cavalry, Dano-Pasha at Mardin, had been negotiating for some time with an Arab tribe concerning the purchase of a full-blooded mare of the Meneghi breed. Finally a price of sixty bags or almost fifteen hundred dollars was agreed upon. At the appointed hour the sheikh of the tribe arrives with his mare in the courtyard of the pasha. The latter is still trying to bargain, when the sheikh proudly replies that he will not take one _para_ less. The Turk sulkily throws him the money saying that thirty thousand piasters are an unheard of price for a horse. The Arab looks at him in silence, and ties the money very complacently in his cloak. Then he descends to the courtyard to take leave of his mare. He mutters some Arabic words in her ear, strokes her eyes and forehead, examines her hoofs, and walks all around her, carefully studying the attentive horse. Suddenly he jumps on her bare back, and, in the same instant, off she shoots like a dart out of the courtyard.
In this country the horses generally stand ready with their _palans_ or felt saddles on, day and night. Every distinguished man has at least one or two horses in his stable ready to be mounted as soon as they have been bridled. The Arabs, however, ride without bridles. The halter serves to check the horse, and a gentle tap with the open hand on the neck makes it go to the right or the left. Not more than a few seconds, therefore, elapsed before the _agas_ of the pasha were mounted and in hot pursuit of the fugitive.
The unshod hoofs of the Arabian mare had never yet trodden cobble stones, and very carefully she picked her way while she hastened down the steep, uneven road leading from the castle. The Turks, on the other hand, galloped over the steep descent with its loose pebbles just as we often gallop up a sandy slope. Thin, circular shoes, forged cold, kept all harm from the feet of their horses, which were accustomed to such trips and made no false steps.
Where the village ends the _agas_ have almost caught up with the sheikh, but now they are in the plain, the Arabian mare is in her element, off she darts, straight ahead, for here there are neither ditches nor fences, neither rivers nor mountains to delay her course.
Like a clever jockey who leads a race, the Arab wishes to ride as slowly and not as quickly as possible. Constantly looking back at his pursuers, he keeps out of gunshot. When they approach he pushes on; when they fall behind, he slows the pace of his horse; when they stop, he walks his mare. Thus the chase continues till the fiery orb of the sun verges toward the horizon. Then for the first time the Arab demands of his horse every ounce of her strength. Crouching over her neck he drives his heels into her flanks, and with a loud "Jellah!" is gone. The sod resounds under powerful hoof-beats, and soon only a cloud of dust indicates to his pursuers the course he has taken.
Here where the sun descends to the horizon almost in a vertical line the twilight is exceedingly brief and soon dark night had swallowed up every trace of the fugitive. The Turks, without provision for themselves or water for their horses, realized that they were some twelve or fifteen hours away from home and in an unknown locality.
What could they do but return and bring to their irate master the unwelcome news that both the horse and the rider with the money were gone? Not until the third evening did they reach Mardin, half dead of exhaustion and with horses hardly able to put one foot ahead of the other. Their only consolation was that here there was another instance of Arabian perfidy for them to revile. The traitor"s horse, to be sure, they were obliged to praise, and they had to confess that such an animal could hardly be paid for too dearly.
Next day, just when the _Imam_ is calling to morning prayer, the pasha hears hoofbeats under his window, and into the courtyard the sheikh is riding entirely unabashed. "Sidi," he calls up, "Sir, do you want your money or my horse?"
Somewhat less quickly than the Arab had ridden we reached on the fifth day the foot of the mountain and near a clear rivulet the large village of Tillaja (Tshilaga), doubtless the ancient Tilsaphata, where the starving army of Jovian on its retreat from Persia to Nisibin found its first provisions. There I learned that on that very morning Mehmet-Pasha had started with an army on an expedition against the Kurds in the north. I at once decided to join him and, leaving the caravan, arrived at his camp that same evening. There I was told that Hafiss-Pasha had sent a guard of fifty hors.e.m.e.n to meet us, whom we had missed, because they had looked for us in the direction of Sindjar.
A BULLFIGHT IN SPAIN
TRANSLATED BY EDMUND VON MACH, PH.D.
[From a letter written by Moltke to his brother Fritz and dated October 28, 1846.]
My most interesting experience was a bullfight. At three in the afternoon my Frenchman and I betook ourselves to the circular arena where twelve thousand people were a.s.sembled to watch the _Corrida de Toros_. There are about twenty stone steps on which the people take their places, just as in the ancient amphitheatres, and on top there are two tiers of boxes, of which the one in the centre is reserved for the queen. The arena proper where the fight is to take place is perfectly empty, and is separated from the spectators by a barrier of beams and planks seven feet in height. A small platform makes it possible for those who fight on foot to vault safely from the arena when they can avoid the bull in no other way.
After some delay the gates opened and the _alguazil_, some kind of a higher official clad in old-fashioned garb, rode in and announced that the game was about to begin. He was everywhere greeted with hoots, ridicule and disrespectful whistling; I do not know why. But he seemed to know what to expect, for he apparently did not mind his reception in the least. The Romans in the circus made sport of their consuls and emperors, and the Spaniards at a bullfight are permitted an equal lat.i.tude of behavior.
Then the _chulos_ entered--on foot, with gay hangings draped over their right arms. They were followed by six _picadores_ on horseback, dressed in leather jerkins and breeches, protected on the right side with bands of iron. They wore Spanish hats and carried each a heavy spear on which there was an iron point only half an inch long. Their saddles were of the high cowboy type, and they sat their horses well.
Under the accompaniment of deafening applause the _matador_ (literally, the murderer) took his place at their head. His name was Cuchiera, and he was a famous and celebrated hero of the arena. Thus this phalanx advanced toward the royal box, where Queen Christine, wife of Munoz, Duke of Rianzares, was seated, and dropped to their knees to offer her the royal salute; whereupon twelve thousand people hissed.
At last the chief actor entered, a powerful black bull with sharp horns and fiercely glistening eyes. He had been in a room with holes in the ceiling through which he had been poked with pointed sticks. He was, therefore, tolerably ill-humored before he entered the arena. As soon as the doors of his prison were opened he shot forward to the centre of the field, looked fiercely about him, greatly astonished, pawed the sand with his feet, and then hurled himself upon the nearest _picador_. This man held his ground, and permitted the maddened bull to rush against his pointed spear. The horse had his right eye bandaged lest he see the bull and bolt. The attack, however, was so fierce, and the rider so firmly seated in his saddle, that both he and his horse were lifted up and thrown over backwards. At the same moment the sharp horns of the bull were fastened in the horse"s belly. A stream of blood, thick as your finger, spurted out directly from the horse"s heart. The _picador_ was lying under his charger, and was prevented by his costume from freeing himself. His certain end was at hand if the _chulos_ had not come to his a.s.sistance with their gay draperies. The bull immediately let go his prey and hurled himself upon the men on foot, or rather upon their gaudy cloaks. He chased one the entire length of the arena and, when his foe had escaped him by jumping the barrier, he made the stout fence tremble under his hammering horns. At the disappearance of his enemy the bull stood stock still, as if dumfounded, until a second _picador_ met his glance. This horseman had the same experience as his predecessor, but before the _chulos_ could bring help the bull buried his horns a second time in the belly of the convulsed horse and carried it high up in the air through half the length of the arena. The third horse was ripped open in a trice. The wretched animal actually caught his feet in his own entrails and dragged them from his body bit by bit. In this condition he was beaten and given the spurs and was forced to await a second attack by the infuriated bull.
Since the bull each time had received a terrific thrust on his left shoulder from the spear, he finally refused to charge another one of the _picadores_. Their places, therefore, had to be taken by the _banderilleros_. These gay-looking people are men on foot with arrows two feet long, each with a hooked point. On the other end these arrows are decorated with little flags, bra.s.s foil, tinsel, and even bird cages whence gaily decked birds are permitted to escape. With these arrows the _banderilleros_ walk right up to the bull, and, when he is ready to charge, jump to one side and thrust their weapons deep into his neck, halfway between his ears and his horns. Then the beast grows altogether mad and furious, and often chases a whole band of _chulos_ in wild flight over the barrier, which calls for noisy shouts of ridicule from the crowd. Once the bull straddled the fence, and there have been times when he has succeeded in scaling it. One of the _chulos_ was so bold as to put his gaudy cloak over his shoulders, so that the bull charged straight at him. But as the beast lowered his head and threw himself forward with closed eyes, the man jumped over him and stood by his side.
When finally the rage of the bull is at its height, but his strength is waning, the _matador_ faces him, all alone. At once a hush falls over the spectators, who sit in rapt attention, for the _matador"s_ work is by far the most dangerous.
He is a fine-looking man, in shoes and white stockings. His silk coat and breeches are sky blue; his hair is tied in a net, in his left hand he carries a small scarlet cloak, and in his right a diamond-shaped blade of sharp Toledo steel, four feet in length. It is necessary to drive this into the neck of the bull at a very definite point, for if it hits him elsewhere he can shake it off and break it into splinters.
In order to hit the right spot the man must let the bull pa.s.s him at a distance of only two or at best three inches. Everything is based on the a.s.sumption that the bull will attack the red cloth rather than the man, and will continue his course in an absolutely straight line.
There are exceptions, and then the _matador_ is lost.
Very deliberately the _caballero_ walked up to his black antagonist and shook his red cloth at him. Twice he let him pa.s.s under his arm.
At the third attempt he thrust his blade up to the hilt into the neck of the beast. For another minute perhaps the bull rages, then he begins to bleed from his mouth, he totters and then collapses.
Immediately a kind of hangman"s a.s.sistant sneaks up from behind and plunges a dagger into the neck of the bull, who expires on the spot.
At this juncture five mules decorated with ribbons and tinkling bells came trotting into the arena; they were hitched up to the horses and then to the bull, and at a fast clip carried the corpses away. Some sand was then sprinkled on the puddles of blood, and a new bull brought out. In this way eight bulls were driven to death. Twenty horses fell dead, while several more were led away mortally wounded. A single bull killed eight horses. No men were seriously hurt.
The horses, it is true, are of such a quality that, if they are not killed today, they will be taken to the horse-butcher tomorrow. Good horses would not only be too expensive, but they would also refuse to await the attack of the bull without shying or offering resistance, even if their right eyes were bandaged. The more horses the bull has killed and the more dangerous to the men he has become, the louder is the applause. One bull persistently refused to attack the _picadores_.
He ran up and down the arena, trembling with fear, while the crowd shrieked curses and imprecations. At last they yelled: _Los perros_!
(the dogs!) When the dogs arrived in the arena they could hardly be restrained. Madly they rushed upon the bull, who at once gored one of them and tossed him high in the air. The others, however, fastened on him, one of them seizing his tongue so firmly that he was swung high up in the air and down again. You could have torn him to pieces before he would have let go. Finally four dogs had the bull in a position where he could not free himself, and the matador struck him down.
While this butchery was at its height, the young queen with the Infanta entered, accompanied by Don Francesco, her husband, and the Duke of Montpensier. Aumale had arrived earlier. The queen looked very happy and is by no means so ugly as the papers say. She is blonde, rather stout, and not at all plain. The Infanta is small, extremely dark and thin. The queen was greeted by the _matador_ just as her mother had been, but by the spectators with much enthusiasm. When the eighth bull was killed, it began to grow dark, but all the people yelled "_un otro toro_," and the ninth bull was hunted down almost in darkness--which is very dangerous for the _matador_.
This, then, is the spectacle which the Spaniards love better than anything else, which is watched by the tenderest of women, and which brought a smile to the face of the Infanta, a recent bride. So far as I am concerned, one bullfight was quite enough for me, and its description, I fancy, will be enough for you.
DESCRIPTION OF MOSCOW[38] (1856)