They also agreed that after leaving Constantinople the members of the expedition must wear oriental dress. Niebuhr justified this in his diary: “In Arabia, our complicated dress with all its different articles of clothing will make us the laughing-stock of the place; and for our own part European clothes would be excessively uncomfortable, as from now on we shall have to learn to do without chairs and many of the other conveniences found all over Europe.”
Von Gähler helped the expedition to procure the necessary clothes, and at the beginning of September they were once again ready to press on. Shortly before departing, an incident occurred which had serious consequences for the rest of the expedition, and left bitter reminders to the hospitable host in Constantinople for years to come. The cause was again Friedrich Christian von Haven.
Since the clash at Commander Fisker’s dinner-party in Marseille, von Haven and Forsskål could not be in the same room together without some short but rude remark coming from one or other of them. In Constantinople they both tried to keep to themselves as much as possible. While Forsskål was taking his long trips into the surrounding district, von Haven busied himself with tracking down and buying rare Arabic manuscripts. For the first time in all the years we have followed him he could now show some concrete results. Towards the end of their stay he sent Bernstorff a catalogue of his purchases, which comprised in all thirty-four Arabic manuscripts, mostly history and poetry, but also two very valuable dictionaries of the Arabic language.
Von Haven’s achievement here, however, was stultified even before it was made by a new surrender. Shortly before, he had intimated to Bernstorff that the trip to Arabia Felix itself would never come to anything. He did not say so in so many words. He said he had been talking to the French Ambassador there, who insisted that “il est absolument impossible de pénétrer dans l’Arabie heureuse.” Even in Constantinople, only a few weeks before their departure for Alexandria, von Haven was thus trying to demonstrate the impossibility of the expedition, which since his clash with Forsskål seemed to him less attractive than ever. To his original terror of the dangers and exertions of the desert was now added his fear of his colleagues’ scorn. The sense of isolation among strangers would in his case be augmented by his isolation among his own people. Just as in his letter from Helsingör he predicted the early demise of all the members of the expedition, so he now claimed that it could never achieve its object. He was right—as far as he himself was concerned. For von Haven it was indeed absolutely impossible to penetrate into Arabia Felix. He was just as afraid as he was during the gale in the Skagerrak, but this time there was no possibility of leaving the ship and having solid earth under his feet. He had to resort to other means.
Already in Constantinople, therefore, von Haven was trying to escape what increasingly appeared to be his inevitable fate. He was not content with assuring Bernstorff of the hopelessness of the whole Arabian project. He also took secret measures which show that he was not merely resentful but desperate. The acute von Gähler watched him with suspicious eyes. What was the reason for the icy coldness between the Danish and Swedish professors? Shortly before their departure the Ambassador decided to institute a little inquiry, in the course of which the whole story leading up to the fateful dinner-party on the Greenland came out. The practised diplomat succeeded in persuading both parties to express their regret for their lapses. He accordingly begged them to apologise and embrace each other in the presence of the whole group. In the end he managed to talk them over. Forsskål and Von Haven apologised and embraced each other.
Von Gähler considered the conflict settled. He was soon to discover his mistake. Everything seems to indicate that Forsskål succeeded in so formulating his apologies that they merely acted like another twist of the knife in von Haven’s wound. At all events, there is evidence that immediately after the reconciliation in von Gähler’s living-room, von Haven confided to Christian Kramer that he would get even with the Swede yet. The day before their departure the two Danes called at Florent’s chemist shop, where von Haven had ordered some medicaments for the journey. His terrible threat against Forsskål was still ringing in Kramer’s ears when the young doctor noticed with horror some of the packets the chemist was putting on the counter.
Among the medicaments which the Danish professor had ordered for the journey were 8 aspers’ worth of yellow and 16 aspers’ worth of white arsenic.
6
By 8th September, 1761 all the preparations for the journey were complete. Now the real adventure began. Dressed in their new Oriental clothes, the learned gentlemen took leave of their host von Gähler and went aboard the boat which was to take them to Alexandria.
On this ship, a little Turkish vessel from the Adriatic port of Dulcigno, the expedition encountered quite another world from the one they had been accustomed to on the Greenland. The purpose of the ship’s journey was quite simply to take a cargo of young slave girls to the Egyptian markets. It is apparent right from the start how this curious cargo captured the interest of our travellers. Peter Forsskål forgot his jelly-fish and marine plants for a while and noted in his diary: “We find ourselves in the company of a merchant who is going to Cairo with a cargo that would be highly unusual in European ports, namely women. He has taken all the safeguards of jealousy: a special cabin, which lies above our own, has been reserved for the young women, and he alone takes them their food. In addition, he has fastened a blanket inside the door so that the women cannot be seen when he lets himself in and out.” It would appear from this description that Forsskål had lost nothing of his power of exact scholarly observation; and Niebuhr too seems to have made a conscientious study. The young women, he says in his diary,“are generally very well treated, because when they are to be sold in Egypt it is very important for their owners that they should arrive at the market healthy and cheerful.” There is nothing more for the present; but it is not improbable that the two gentlemen now had certain hopes of the coming journey. They were not disappointed.
When the ship was ready to sail on 8th September, there was an unfavourable wind and they could not leave Constantinople before the 11th. Three days later they passed through the Dardanelles, where Forsskål and Niebuhr went ashore, the first to collect seed from the flowers he had noticed during his botanical expeditions on the outward journey, the second to set up his astrolabe and take the readings he had had to neglect because of his illness.
The journey continued through the Greek Archipelago. In the roads outside Tenedos they met Venetian warships, which they refused to salute as this honour was reserved for French and English vessels. On 19th September they passed the island of Samos, whose mountains were covered by heavy cloud. There the Turkish captain was afraid of meeting Captain Pasha, the pirate who terrorised this part of the sea by demanding a large ransom from any ship he succeeded in capturing. Outside Rhodes, Pasha was lying in wait with six warships, and all the inhabitants of of the island had shuttered their houses, fearing a plundering raid.
The members of the expedition, however, were faced with very different problems during these days. Neither the beautiful slave girls in the cabin above them nor the menacing Captain Pasha out in the roads engaged their attention when they anchored in the port of Rhodes on 21st September. Kramer had disclosed the discovery he had made in Florent’s chemist shop in Constantinople.
According to the diaries, it appears that Niebuhr, Forsskål and Baurenfeind went ashore on Rhodes first, while the two Danes, von Haven and Kramer, did not leave the ship until the following day. But neither Niebuhr’s nor Forsskål’s notes give any indication of the reason for this separation. Why did the three men wish to be alone on 21st September on Rhodes? The answer is to be found in the Danish State Archives, where a letter to the Danish Ambassador in Constantinople, dated Rhodes, 21st September, is preserved. The letter is written by Forsskål in his stumbling German, but signed by Niebuhr and Baurenfeind as well. It runs as follows:
Your Excellency, gracious sir!
For the extraordinary kindness and paternal consideration which your Excellency showed our little group in Constantinople, we would again like to express our humble gratitude, with the assurance that we will for the rest of our lives honour your memory with thankful hearts.
To-day we arrived in Rhodes. Here at the French Consul’s we met a gentleman who is coming to Constantinople and who offered to take any letters for us. We now take the opportunity of giving Your Excellency the first intimation of a matter which caused us all great dismay when we first heard about it two days ago from our doctor, Herr Kramer.
On our last day in Constantinople the chemist Florent, in the presence of our doctor Herr Kramer, served our philologist van Haven, at his own request, with two astonishing amounts of arsenic; and when our doctor showed his great concern at this, the recipient of these medicaments gave them, after they had been packed up, to our doctor for safe keeping, doubtless to allay his suspicions. But ever since that moment our doctor has felt great consternation. He has revealed the whole matter to us, and shown us the two packets which we are now carrying with us, sealed, to Egypt. The two amounts are so large they would suffice to serve as the last meal for a couple of regiments. We believe that Your Excellency is already familiar with the character of this man; his eagerness to get possession of and control over our finances is well known; our doctor has told us that, after having had to admit to his misdemeanours in the presence of Your Excellency, he vowed that before he got home he would do away with the man who had been responsible for his humiliation.
When we consider all this in conjunction with the arrogance and temper he has always shown, we can imagine only the most horrible of intentions behind his buying these two packets. We can see that in a country where plague is so often rife it would be the easiest thing in the world to lay the blame for a number of sudden and simultaneous deaths on this disease, and prevent anyone from having an autopsy carried out on the corpses. We also believe that if this concerns one of us, it will also of necessity come to concern us all; for any survivors would otherwise be in a position to cause the malefactor’s undoing. We see no alternative but to place ourselves once more under your direction and care. We risk our lives willingly in the dangers that our journey will perhaps involve. But this daily menace from one of our colleagues seems to us to be greater than all the others. We beg Your Excellency to be so kind as to ask the chemist Florent himself whether he was not asked for two large packets of white and yellow arsenic, and whether he did not personally hand them over. The recipient may possibly still be keeping some himself; and even if this is not the case, it will be easy for him to obtain as much as he requires in Egypt. It is impossible to imagine any plausible object in taking such stores on the journey. If only it were possible for us to receive in Egypt prompt orders from Your Excellency which would rid us once and for all of this colleague, who otherwise will not stop until he has brought disaster on himself or on all of us!
With the deepest respect we remain Your Excellency’s life-long and most humble servants,
Pet. Forsskål, C. Niebuhr, C. W. Baurenfeind
P.S. The philologist and our doctor have remained on board.
Rhodes, 21st September, 1761
The last page of Peter Forsskål’s letter from Rhodes
“Here is Rhodes, here the deed will be done!” It is not improbable that Forsskål had these famous words on his lips when he went ashore on the island and set about writing this letter. With his accusation he had lit a fuse, and even if it had to go all the way to Constantinople, it still led to a gunpowder barrel which, if it went off would blow up the whole expedition. At the same time Carsten Niebuhr sent a letter to von Gähler’s secretary, Herr Schumacher. He refers here to von Haven’s purchase of arsenic and continues: “I could wish that he himself would make use of this remedy, for I am convinced that it would be the best way for him to cure himself of all evil. If I should have the misfortune of being exposed to such a shameful murderous attempt, I hope that I, as an officer, will know how to avenge the evil deed. To be sure it is not much comfort; but it is more honourable to die like a gentleman than a miserable coward. Heaven preserve us from such an occurrence.” Here it is stated in so many words that Niebuhr intends to shoot von Haven if the Dane tries to do away with them.
After this gloomy development Captain Pasha’s crude conditions for allowing them to continue seemed so trivial that none of them saw any reason to bother much about them. On 22nd September the pirate’s demands had been met and the ship with its cargo of slave girls once more weighed anchor and put out into the open sea. Only one sharp comment in Niebuhr’s diary betrays the rancorous relations between the members of the expedition. It occurs in connection with a reference to a religious discussion between the members of the expedition and the captain’s scribe, who was a Mohammedan. In the course of the discussion von Haven went all out for a conversion, during which he imprudently pointed out the superiority of Christianity to Mohammedanism; the result was that the scribe immediately got up and left the company with the remark that anyone who believed in any other god but Allah must be either an ox or an ass. One can see from Niebuhr’s comment that he, though for other reasons, was strongly disposed to agree with the Mohammedan. “The good man reminded us by this that one should allow every man to continue to believe that his own religion is best, so long as he has no doubts about it himself. Personally I do not regard it as being my job to engage in proselytising. But afterwards, whenever I was inquiring from reasonable Mohammedans into the fundamentals of their religion, I also told them in passing various things about Christianity, without ever asserting that it was better than the doctrine proclaimed by the Koran; and none of them ever got angry on that account.” This little remark shows the real Niebuhr. He did not want to enlist supporters; he was not the victim of his beliefs. He wished to enlighten, but not convert. Truth is a private matter.
Now that the ship was out in the open sea and, for the first time since leaving Constantinople, there was a clear and uninterrupted horizon all around them, tempers cooled off once more. One by one they returned to their usual occupations. Kramer and von Haven had long conversations on their own in Danish; Baurenfeind made finished drawings of Forsskål’s botanical specimens from Turkey; and Niebuhr entered up his astronomical and meteorological observations while the young slave girls could now and again be heard laughing in the cabin above.
When it grew dark the phosphorescence began to glow once more round the sides of the ship; and Forsskål relates in his diary how every evening he collected water through the window of his cabin to inspect it under his microscope. He adds ironically that no matter how carefully he studied it, he could find no trace of Nereus’s daughters. But it appears from the diary that the beautiful Nereids whom the young Swede vainly sought in the luminous waters around the ship’s sides had instead made an assignation with him on board the ship itself.
Peter Forsskål writes: “Fishing for phosphorescence involved me quite often in collecting water through the port-hole of the cabin. This gave the women quartered in the cabin above an opportunity of looking down upon the European as he fished. When I heard them talking and looked up, they quickly but not too modestly withdrew; because they still peeped out, now one, now another, first quickly, then for a little longer; until eventually we got to talking, and made one another’s acquaintance.” It so happens that we are fortunate enough, by consulting Niebuhr’s diary, to be able to spy on Forsskål and discover in a little more detail how this acquaintanceship developed. Here is Niebuhr’s slightly discrepant version of the same interesting incident:
“Herr Forsskål and I often sat on our luggage down in our cabin to read and write. When we heard women’s voices above us, nothing was more natural than that we should look out of the window the better to find out what was going on. The slave girls, who were not used to such curiosity and who now caught sight of some strange and wild people (for we had not adapted ourselves so completely to eastern customs as to wear o
ur turbans indoors), began to shout abuse at us. We did not allow ourselves to be frightened off by this, particularly when we noticed some of them now and then trying to calm and quiet the others. Little by little they got used to seeing us. We showed them various fruits and some sweetmeats that had been made in Europe; and when there was something they liked, they let their scarves drop from their window so that we could tie the things in them. They even gave us one or two little things. We still did not speak a word of Turkish, and none of the girls knew any European language; but we made ourselves understood by signs. The most friendly of the young women said a few words to us on various occasions. To find out the meaning of these words, we asked the scribe the meaning of a number of Turkish words, the women’s among them; and in this way we learned that they had warned us to be careful and only show ourselves during the times when the menfolk were engaged at their prayers. However, we could not always be sure, even by such means. Eventually the girls took to tapping on their window as a sign to us that they were now alone; and in this way we both had great fun during this trip.”
In the midst of the sombre drama that opened with the dispatch of letters from Rhodes, this little interlude in the Mediterranean is a welcome relief. This picture of the two learned gentleman interrupting their studies to listen for tapped signals and then hoisting sweets up to young slave girls seems like an oasis of happiness and humanity, a fleeting glimpse of another world—as of Arabia Felix seen in a mirage.
Scarcely a week after sailing from Rhodes, Niebuhr had to warn the captain, who was sailing without log and compass, that the dangerously low and therefore almost invisible coast of Egypt was close. On 26th September they berthed in the port of Alexandria. The members of the expedition waited until the next day to go ashore, when they expected to be met by the French Consul. By this time, wrote Niebuhr, between six and eight of those aboard the ship were dead. There had been plague on board since they left Rhodes. Niebuhr rejoices that none of the members of the expedition showed any symptoms of the disease, in spite of the fact that some of those who succumbed were treated by Dr. Kramer before they died. His words recall that sentence in the letter to von Gähler: “In these lands where plague is rife, it would be the easiest thing in the world to lay the blame for a number of sudden deaths on this disease.” The real plague had let them off, but the other infection they continued to carry about with them.
Arabia Felix Page 9