A Journey through the Yemen and some General Remarks Upon that Country by Walter Harris

DHAMAR TO SANAA.

Although the city of Dhamar boasts of a considerable antiquity, it displays none of the more remarkable points of the interest of age, and except that a large portion of the place is in bad repair, it might have been built but a few years ago. There are no walls to the city, and necessarily no gates. The absence of this has led the inhabitants to extend the town in many directions, with the result that it occupies a much larger space than would be necessary for the population it contains. This, however, has not prevented the streets from occupying the narrow limits the Oriental loves to give to the passer-by, and in the bazaars especially only two or three people could possibly walk abreast.

Ibn Khaldun, in his geography of the Yemen, makes no mention of Dhamar, but this can scarcely be looked upon as meaning that the town did not exist in his day-in fact, it is more probable that his failing to notice the place was due to an omission, as the neighbouring fortress of Hirran is also left without mention, though from the remains existing there it is very probable that it was a site and fortress of no little importance in far earlier times than that of the native geographer; and El-Janadi, in his account of "The Karmathians," speaks of the capture of Hirran by Ibn Fadl about the year 293 A. H., and as the fall of the fortress was only one item of the leaders successful march to Sanaa, it is very probable that the event was considered one of no little importance. Several of the other early Arab historians make direct mention of Dhamar itself.

A few hours after my arrival in the city I sauntered out with Saïd to the bazaars, to purchase a few little luxuries in the way of food and fruit, for so far we had lived during our journey upon the bare necessities of life. Although at times a considerable crowd thronged us, we found the people extremely polite, and what little inconvenience we were put to was owing entirely to the curiosity of the inhabitants. The bazaars boast but little beyond their natural picturesqueness, which in many places is most noticeable. The shops are the usual little one-storeyed box-like dens of the Eastern world, and the trades are divided up into separate streets and quarters. Here, as elsewhere, the Jews have an entirely separate town, situated to the east of the city, from which it is divided by a large open space. Near this great square is the principal mosque of the town, a walled enclosure, with three large gates facing the city, and a handsome, though damaged, minaret. In one respect, however, it is in better order than that of another of the mosques, for it still maintains its upright position, whereas the other is sadly out of the perpendicular, owing to its having been struck by a cannon-ball. A third mosque of considerable size is within the bazaars, but none of them possess much claim to architectural beauty, being built in the simple and undecorative Arab style, native cement and mud-bricks being the principal materials used in their construction. Prettier, certainly, are one or two of the Shereefian tombs, with their white domes and arcades of arches. One of these, lying on the extreme south of the city, near where we had entered the town, is realty charming, with a small garden in front of it and a huge shady tree for the pilgrims to the sanctuary to rest under. Near here, but standing separate from the town, we saw the ruins of the Turkish barracks, which had been destroyed by the Arabs on their capture of Dhamar from the Turks a few months before.

At sunset we returned to Saïd's house to spend the evening in a family party, the members of which varied between the ages of seventy or eighty and grimy babies of a few months old. However, it was an insight into Arab life, and was rendered by no means unamusing by Saïd's wonderful lies about Aden, his earthly paradise. He fairly took the breath away from his relations with the startling untruths he told, but I scarcely believe that they gave him credence; and probably had he kept to the strict truth, and only told about the forts and troops and good government there, they would equally have taken it for exaggeration. Perhaps after all he pursued the best course, and possibly by knocking off some ninety-nine per cent for the native love of story-telling, they arrived at about the right result.

We were up with the sunrise, and enjoyed the luxuries of a Turkish bath. Fortunately the windows to admit the light were very small, otherwise we should, I think, have seen much that was not tempting; but one forgot any possible disadvantages in the luxury of soap and hot water. From the "hummum" we proceeded to a _café_ in the principal square, and perching ourselves cross-legged under an awning in front of the coffee-shop, joined in the swim of conversation over "hubble-bubble" pipes. A handful of troops were drilling before us in the square, poor dishevelled creatures, many without even a boot on their feet. There were perhaps a hundred and fifty in all, and I was told that of the four hundred who had been sent to garrison the place after Ahmed Feizi Pasha's successful relief of Sanaa two or three months before, these were all that remained, sickness having carried off the rest-starvation probably. The officers seemed as disheartened as the men, and appeared to lack all interest in the drill. Many of the soldiers were smoking cigarettes, but no one seemed to take any notice of it; and after an hour or so the soldiers wandered off in different directions, without apparently being dismissed. It was sad to see their poor wan faces, thinned and paled with sickness and hunger.