The Baedeker of 1892 judges the scene from the strict Victorian point of view, as if Mrs. Grundy, the guardian of morality, is looking over his shoulder. ‘Rameses III is here represented in his harem. The nude maidens with whom he is playing chess, or who hand him one a fig, another a pomegranate, another a melon, another a flower which he smells, appear from the shape of their faces and from the arrangement of their hair to be captive princesses rather than his own children. This supposition is farther strengthened by the occurrence here of several representations of a distinctly immodest character. The vicious propensities of this king are gibbeted with biting scorn on other monuments. He himself appears to have looked with peculiar pride on his harem, which was rich in beauty of all kinds, and to have immortalised its memory in his Memnonium. At all events his reign marks the beginning of an epoch of luxury and immorality, upon which decay followed close.’
Travellers who wanted to stay in their boat as far as Khartoum would have been disappointed, for Baedeker’s 1892 volume allows them to go only as far as Wadi Haifa: ‘It is much to be hoped that the time will soon come when the way will be open as far as Khartoum, which fell into the hands of the Mahdists on Jan. 27th 1885, when the brave Gordon met his death. The possession of Khartoum and the security not only of the Nile-route thither but also of the desert-route from Berber to Suakin are necessary conditions for the gradual civilisation of the Sudan.’
For a description of Khartoum we have to wait for Wallis Budge’s handbook, which appeared after the Mahdi revolt had been put down in 1895. The expedition of Kitchener’s troops up the Nile, their transport and supplies, had been organized by none other than Thomas Cook & Son, which firm had the necessary experience (and fleet of boats) for moving large numbers of people.
At the Battle of Omdurman, which preceded the liberation of nearby Khartoum, ‘the Dervish loss was 11,000 killed, 16,000 wounded, and 4000 were made prisoner’. The Dervish army was ‘mown down’, Budge goes on, ‘by the awful rifle fire of the British and Egyptian troops, and the shell-fire from the gun-boats.’ He tells us later that ‘of the wounded Dervishes from 6000 to 7000 were treated in the hospital which was improvised in Omdurman. Visitors to the battlefield may even this day find weapons and small objects belonging to those who were killed there.’
An architectural description of the Mahdi’s Tomb concludes with: ‘The dome was badly injured in the bombardment of Omdurman on September 2nd., and since the building was the symbol of successful rebellion, up to a certain point, and fanaticism, and had become a goal for pilgrimages, and the home of fraudulent miracles, it was destroyed by charges of guncotton by the British. For the same reasons the Mahdi’s body was burnt in the furnace of one of the steamers, and the ashes thrown into the river.’ In case anyone should imagine that to have been the normal practice of the British towards their enemies he adds that it was done ‘on the advice of Muhammadan officers and notables; the Mahdi’s head is said to have been buried at Wadi Haifa’.
All this would seem to be justified by the fact that: ‘In Khartoum itself business is increasing, and under the just and equitable government which the country now enjoys will continue to do so.’ Dervish rule of the Sudan, it is pointed out, reduced the population from eight million to two million in ten years, a fate much like that endured by Pol Pot’s Cambodia in the present century.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE HOLY LAND
Murray strikes exactly the right tone in the preface to his two-volume 1868 guide: ‘The Bible is the best Hand-book for Palestine; the present work is only intended to be a companion to it.’
Even so, he loses no time in passing judgement on the people the traveller can’t avoid meeting: ‘Their dress, their manners and customs, and their language, are all primitive. No European nation, with the exception perhaps of the Spaniards, bears the least resemblance to them. Like Spain, too, the best specimens of humanity are found among the lower classes. The farther we go from government offices, the more successful shall we be in our search after honesty, industry, and patriarchal hospitality. The Arabs are illiterate, and ignorant of all Frank inventions; but there is a native dignity in their address and deportment, which will both please and astonish those who have seen the awkward vulgarity of the lower classes in some more favoured lands. Whether we enter the tent of the Bedawy or the cottage of the fellah, we are received and welcomed with an ease and courtesy that would not disgrace a palace. One is apt to imagine, on hearing the long series of enquiries after the health, happiness, and prosperity of the visitor who drops in, and the evasive replies given, that there is some hidden grief which politeness would fain conceal, but which the heartfelt sympathy of the host constrains him to search into. It is disappointing to discover, as every one will in time discover, that this is all form. Still there is something pleasing in these inquiries, compliments, and good wishes, empty though they may be.’
The further we get from Europe, i.e. civilization, the more romantic is travelling shown to be, though Murray is too astute to allow such feelings to become overwhelming. ‘An Arab when eating, whether in the house or by the wayside, however poor and scanty his fare, never neglects to invite the visitor, or passing wayfarer, to join him. And this is not always an empty compliment; indeed there are few Arabs who will not feel honoured by the traveller’s tasting their humble fare. The invitation, however, is generally declined by a courteous phrase.’
The politeness of an Arab shopkeeper can be embarrassing: ‘… when the price is asked, he replied, “Whatever you please, my lord.” When pressed for a more definite answer, he says, “Take it without money.” Our feelings of romance, however, are somewhat damped when we find the price ultimately demanded is four or five times the value of the article. An Arab always tells you that his house is yours, his property is yours, he himself is your slave; that he loves you with all his heart, would defend you with his life, etc., etc. This all sounds very pretty, but it will be just as well not to rely too much on it. Nothing, however, is lost by politeness; and so one may seem to believe all that is said. It has been sometimes the practice of travellers to rule their Arab servants and muleteers by bullying and browbeating; but this is a great mistake. I need not say that such conduct is beneath the dignity of an English gentleman. Unvarying courtesy, accompanied with as unvarying firmness, will gain the desired object far more effectually. This is especially the case with the Bedawin, who can often be persuaded by a kind word when they could not be driven by a rod of iron. At the same time, any approach to undue familiarity will be attributed by the Arab to weakness of character, perhaps in some cases to fear, of which he will not be slow to take advantage.’
With regard to Arabs in general, they ‘are and have been for centuries “lords of the soil,” and they constitute the great majority of the community. They are proud, fanatical, and illiterate. They are taught by the faith they hold to look with contempt on all other classes, and to treat them not merely as inferiors but as slaves. They are generally noble in bearing, polite in address, and profuse in hospitality; but they are regardless of truth, dishonest in their dealings, and immoral in their conduct. In large towns the greater proportion of the upper classes are both physically and mentally feeble, owing to the effects of polygamy, early marriages, and degrading vices; but the peasantry are robust and vigorous, and much might be hoped for from them if they were brought under the influence of liberal institutions, and if they had examples around them of the industry and enterprise of Western Europe.’