Princess Salme of Zanzibar

Princess Salme of Zanzibar By Judy Aldrick Pt I Anyone who has visited the museum in Zanzibar will know of the romantic story of Princess Salme who eloped with a German trader and escaped to Europe. It is a story to stir the hearts of all feminists, as the Arabian princess defied the customs of her upbringing, rejected her religion and found freedom and love in the West. But who knows the events, which lead up to her dramatic decision and what happened to her afterwards? We know quite a bit about Salme, as she wrote her memoirs, which came out in Germany in 1886 under her married name Emily Said-Ruete. Entitled Memoirs of an Arabian Princess, the book was an immediate hit. It was translated into English and has been reprinted and retranslated several times. In it she described her idyllic childhood in the harem of her father the first Sultan of Zanzibar, Seyyid Said. She recalled her life in Zanzibar through rose-tinted spectacles as she was homesick and found the reality of life in the West much less pleasant than she imagined it would be. Her husband was killed in a traffic accident just three years after the marriage. He was knocked down by a tram in Hamburg and Salme left with three small children wanted to return to Zanzibar, the country of her birth, but she could not, as her half brother the Sultan refused to take her back. Bibi Salima as she was known in Zanzibar was born 30th August 1844. She was one of the youngest of Seyyid Said’s 57 offspring. Her mother was a Circassian concubine from Southern Russia and Salme was pale skinned and almost European in appearance. Circassian slave girls were much sought after and could be bought in the slave markets of Istanbul and Egypt. Ethiopians were also prized and the Sultan’s palace at Mtoni contained a multi-cultural assortment of women and small children. Salme’s problems began when her mother died of cholera early in 1859. Without the guidance of a mother and aged not quite 15, she fell under the influence of a glamorous half sister called Chole, who had been the apple of her father’s eye. Chole was disgruntled, as since her father’s death in 1856, she was no longer treated as the favourite. Majid, the new sultan did not give her special preference at court and she quarrelled with him. With revenge in her heart, she turned to Barghash, the brother next in line, and the two began to plot together to bring about his downfall. Barghash though younger than Majid thought he would make a better sultan. Majid was sickly and weak, he suffered from epilepsy and was often ill, but he was the elder son and according to law and with British support had been proclaimed Sultan of Zanzibar. The brother and sister plotted and schemed and matters came to a head in 1859, when two nieces, daughters of a senior brother who had died, Abdul Aziz the younger brother of Barghash, aged 12, and then Salme joined the conspiracy. Farshu and Shembua were very wealthy. They had inherited a large plantation with a well-appointed house from their father, who an admirer of all things French, had named it Marseilles. Madame Cochet, the French consul’s wife discreetly egged on the women in their scheming and hinted at French support for Barghash in opposition to the British, who had promoted Majid. The band of six, all living in close proximity stepped up their intrigues and drew in other disaffected Arabs hostile to Majid and his rule. Marseilles was chosen as the headquarters for the planned coup. The six main conspirators lived in three adjoining houses. Chole and Salme lived in Beit al-Tani the former residence of a Persian princess called Sherazade, who had been married to Seyyid Said for a short time, before divorcing him and returning to Persia (Iran). It was connected to Beit al-Sahel the sultan’s town palace by a bridge over a bathhouse built between the two houses. Sherazade had brought with her a retinue of Persian cavaliers, who had lived down below and in a separate house opposite. Barghash had recently moved into this house. While Shembua and Farshu, the two nieces lived next to Barghash’s house across a narrow lane. Barghash began to hold secret meetings to win over the tribal chiefs to his side. His supporters mainly came from the al-Harthi tribes and once a large enough group of malcontents had gathered around him he started to plan an uprising to overthrow Majid. Barghash however was not the ideal conspirator. He could not keep his plotting secret or conceal his jealousy and he stopped attending Sultan Majid’s official audiences, which was a sure sign of discontent and liable for punishment. As Salme explained, Barghash as a young man was too excitable and quick-tempered and a stronger more ruthless sultan than Majid would have arrested and imprisoned him at this stage and nipped the conspiracy in the bud. But this was not the way of Majid, who hoped his brother would come to his senses and be won over with forbearance and kindness. For a long time he ignored the plotting and turned a blind eye, although he was well aware of what was going on. The British consul and great friend of the old sultan, Atkins Hamerton had died in 1857, but his replacement Colonel Christopher P. Rigby, Arab scholar and military man, did not arrive in Zanzibar until 1859. The delay was due to a serious accident Rigby had in Bombay just before his scheduled departure, when his coach overturned. He suffered severe injuries, which took months to heal and he was left with a permanent limp and had to use a stick to walk. In his absence the French consul Ladislas Cochet, the next most influential foreign representative, had taken the lead amongst the Europeans. France’s interest in Zanzibar lay in trade, not in political domination, and they wanted the slave trade to continue as they needed labour for their sugar plantations in Mauritius and the Comoro Islands. They were content to maintain a status quo. Majid’s position was weak, but Barghash was not popular. Watchful inaction seemed the best policy. The brothers and sisters meanwhile squabbled amongst themselves and indulged in petty rivalries and intrigue, spending their inheritances on jewellery and spies. The four princesses worked themselves up to a fever pitch, arranging for supplies to be sent and stored at Marseilles and preparing for a rebellion. Salme, the only one who could read and write, did all the correspondence with the various chiefs and ordered ammunition and guns. Their excitement only grew when, as she tells us, ‘Our spies informed us that the Government had at last decided to put an end to our doings’. They redoubled their efforts for the success of the enterprise. A day was fixed for the coup and then suddenly several hundred soldiers surrounded Barghash’s house. They had been betrayed and Majid had finally reacted. Barghash was shut up in his house along with the Arab chiefs who supported him. Chole spoke to Barghash through the open windows wondering what to do next, but Barghash refused to submit or ask his brother’s forgiveness. He had plenty of food, but was short of water. The princesses solved the problem by devising an ingenious canvas hosepipe to channel water from their houses to his. Then, as Barghash remained a prisoner in his house, Chole and her female conspirators took charge and put together a daring plan to free Barghash, so he could escape to Marseilles, the rebel headquarters, and lead the rebellion from there. They decided to disguise Barghash in women’s clothes and get him out in that way. One dark evening the princesses went together with a retinue of slaves to plead for permission to see their brother and his sister Meje, who was living with him in the house. The soldiers did not know how to refuse the royal ladies and reluctantly allowed them to go in. Once inside, Barghash, despite protests, was wrapped up in a buibui (the black outer dress of Arab women), which left only his eyes free and little Abdul Aziz was clothed in a similar fashion, with their weapons concealed beneath their robes. Then they put the tallest women of the retinue beside Barghash to make his height less conspicuous and walked out together. They carried on walking further and further into the narrow dark streets, beyond the guards, to the outskirts of the town. No one stopped them; it seemed the plan had worked. Barghash threw off his women’s clothes and hurried to Marseilles to join his armed supporters, who had gathered there. The princesses ran back exhausted to their houses, worn out by the unaccustomed exercise and excitement. But the Baluchi guard had recognised Barghash despite his disguise and had reported it to Majid. The situation was becoming serious and Majid was forced into action. He sent his soldiers to Marseilles to fight the rebels, but the battle was inconclusive and he could not dislodge them. He turned to the British for help to save him and keep the peace. Six ships of war happened to be in port, four British and two French: the Assaye, Clive, Lyra, Isis, Cordeliere and Estafette. A detachment of marines from the British ships was sent to capture the plantation. The house at Marseilles was bombarded and reduced to ruins. Hundreds of Barghash’s supporters were killed and they admitted defeat. Barghash managed to escape and returned a fugitive to his house. But, proud and stubborn to the last, he refused to submit to his brother and barricaded himself within his house. He spurned the emissary sent by Majid and his offer of generous terms and remained obstinately obdurate. Lacking the will or means to force his brother into submission Majid again turned to Rigby and the British for help. The British gunboats used to police the slave trade had a shallow draft and could get close to Barghash’s seafront property. One was brought up and anchored opposite Barghash’s house and the marines began firing bullets through the windows. One bullet narrowly missed Barghash, but still he would not give himself up but retreated to the back of the house. Chole was now in a terrible state, crying and cursing the British, afraid they would all be killed. Finally, she persuaded the obstinate Barghash to give in and tender his submission. Salme wrote that Chole at once ran to the British consulate to announce this and demand a cessation of hostilities, but the consul was not at home. Fortunately the marines stopped firing when the people from Barghash’s house called out – ‘Peace, Peace.’ But still Barghash could not in his pride submit to his brother in person, but would only do it through the mediation of a foreign power. Consul Rigby went up to his front door and banged on it with his walking stick. Shamefaced, Barghash came out and he was put on the British gunboat Assaye, and the next day was taken to Bombay. These events took place in October 1859. Barghash was exiled to Bombay, where he remained for two years. On his return to Zanzibar, his brother regarded him with deep suspicion. He was not allowed to communicate with his Arab friends and was ordered to remain in the countryside and only come into town when required by the Sultan. Barghash who did not have a generous or a forgiving nature blamed his sisters for the failure of the attempted palace coup and his unpleasant situation. The royal women escaped punishment but were in disgrace. Even the Indian shopkeepers were afraid to have dealings with them, and only did so after dark. Salme retired to her plantation at Kisimbani, where she lived quietly for a while. Then Majid visited her and offered forgiveness and invited her back to court. She admitted her fault and returned to live in town. But life was not as it had been before and Salme was not content. Majid made no effort to find her a suitable husband, and her former friends no longer trusted her. She was tarnished by her involvement in the plot. She amused herself with visits from European ladies, who were fascinated by her and came to see her often. She enjoyed their attention and was seduced by their chatter about life in Europe. In her naivety she must have thought that a new life in Europe would solve all her problems. Majid and her family seemed to have no interest in her future – she was yet another supernumerary princess destined for spinsterhood and nonentity. Not what the lively and headstrong Salme had in mind! She wanted more out of life. In one of the letters of Elizabeth Jacob, dated February 1865, there is a description of a visit to Salme. Yvonne Bird, ed., A Quaker Family in India and Zanzibar, 1863-1865: Letters from Elizabeth and Henry Jacob, York: William Session, 2000. Henry Jacob with his wife had come to Zanzibar to work on the Sultan’s sugar plantation at Mkokotoni. Their stay in Zanzibar was destined to be cut short, but the letters Elizabeth wrote home provide a fascinating glimpse of Zanzibar life. On one occasion Elizabeth and the wife of the British Consul, after an audience with the Sultan and his ladies, went to visit Salme at her house in town. She came clattering down the stairs to meet them and greeted them in English and then laughed with glee at their surprise. Elizabeth Jacob described her as most picturesque, ‘and must be very pretty indeed if one could see her face without her mask which hides all but her eyes, mouth and chin’. She was dressed in a silk crimson and silver striped tunic with trousers underneath, but the dress was hardly visible for all the gold and jewels. Her nose, ears, arms, hands, legs, neck and head were literally laden with heavy gold jewellery set with innumerable precious stones. In each ear she had six earrings all about a foot long. She told the ladies that though they were uncomfortable, she never took them out, and slept fully clothed in all her jewels. She served them coffee with milk and sugar in European cups and spoke a little Hindustani as well as a few words of English. Elizabeth Jacob was impressed with the Eastern luxury and fine furnishings of her room, which she said ‘was the only place in any of these royal residences that looked fresh and clean even!’ Bird, Quaker Family, pp. 163-4. It was shortly after this in 1866 that she began her affair with Heinrich Ruete a young German trader who lived in an adjoining house. It caused an excited flutter amongst the gossips of Zanzibar. Flouting conventions, she took her chance and charmed the young German. They fell in love. When the evidence of her pregnancy could be concealed no longer, terrified for his safety Heinrich Ruete fled Zanzibar and Salme attempted to stow away on one of her lover’s company ships, but was spotted and brought back to Zanzibar. Informed by the British Vice Consul, Dr John Kirk, that her behaviour would inevitably lead to the death penalty for her and the child, Captain Pasley a senior officer in the Royal Navy’s East African Anti-Slave Trade Squadron took pity on her. With the help of Mrs Seward, wife of the surgeon attached to the British Agency, he organised a daring rescue. A trusted servant of Mrs Seward’s took the secret message to Salme, telling her to come to the beach on 26 August, the date of Swahili New year, when as part of traditional ritual all citizens of Zanzibar went down to the sea to wash themselves and their belongings. A ship’s cutter was despatched to a prearranged spot with orders to embark the princess and her servants. The princess was waiting ready on the beach, with her boxes of Marie Theresa Dollars and jewellery, and sprang willingly into the boat, but her two servants were terrified and screamed loudly as they knew nothing about the rescue plan. One was bundled into the boat but the other ran away. Tim Jeal, Explorers of the Nile, 2011, pp. 360-1 Tim Jeal is a descendant of Captain Pasley. I thank him for giving me additional insights into the rescue operation. Captain Pasley and the crew of the frigate HMS Highflyer carried the princess and her servant to the safety of the coaling station in Aden, where there was a small British settlement. Here she gave birth to a son and received Christian instruction. She was baptised and given the Christian name of Emily. Her little boy was named Henry after the father. Heinrich Ruete and Salme were eventually married at Aden on 30th May, 1867. Sadly little Henry died between Lyons and Paris on the way to Hamburg, but Salme was later to have three further children, a son, Rudolph, and two daughters. Suspicion fell on the British Agency and in particular Vice Consul, Dr Kirk, though he denied all knowledge of the rescue operation. Captain Pasley’s chivalrous intervention, though humane and admirable, could have backfired badly and indeed the British community in Zanzibar lived in fear of reprisals for some time afterwards. A British warship had to be stationed offshore as a precaution. However Salme’s removal from Zanzibar was probably a relief to Majid and he made no effort to punish his sister or those who had helped her. Her impulsive actions were later to have political ramifications and cause problems, but they did not impact upon Majid, who took the credit for his clemency and forbearance. Sadly the story did not have a happy ending. After the initial honeymoon period, and Ruete’s death in Hamburg in 1870, Salme became disillusioned with life in Europe and spent the rest of her life trying to get back to Zanzibar. To hear about what happened next in the adventures of Princess Salme – you will have to wait for the second instalment! Illustrations for the article Concubine and Slave Girl, from Captain Guillain, Documents sur l’histoire…. vol 3, 1856 Audience with Sultan Majid (ILN) The British Agency in Zanzibar (ILN) Princess Salme is just one of the many fascinating characters who make an appearance in Judy Aldrick’s new book ‘The sultan’s Spymaster; Peera Dewjee of Zanzibar’. Set in nineteenth century Zanzibar the author traces the story of the Indian, Peera, who at a young age entered the service of Barghash bin Said. For almost thirty years he worked for Barghash, first as a menial lamp cleaner and messenger, then as his personal valet and barber, eventually rising to become the Sultan’s most trusted advisor and prime minister. As an official of the Sultan of Zanzibar he met and interacted with many prominent people of the age - Sir Bartle Frere, Sir John Kirk, Sir William Mackinnon, Sewa Haji and Tharia Topan, to mention just a few of the famous figures who litter the pages of the book. A great deal of research has been done to bring the story to life and the descendants of Peera Dewjee have provided the family details, which form the groundwork for the book. Though nowadays a largely forgotten figure Peera’s contribution to the history of Zanzibar was considerable as he remained at the Sultan’s side throughout the stirring events that lead up to the closure of the slave markets and the beginning of European colonisation in East Africa. He visited England on a number of occasions, managed the Sultan’s ships, entertained visiting dignitaries, oversaw the royal household and ran state affairs. After the death of Barghash he continued in the service of the Sultanate of Zanzibar, organising increasingly lavish entertainments and public festivals as the power of the Sultans diminished and the work of government was transferred to British officials. Faithful in his devotion to the welfare and prosperity of Zanzibar, his energetic and lively character shines through the fog of history. He lived on through reigns of six sultans, escaping cholera and shipwreck, finally dying of a heart attack in 1904. Nowadays his descendants are spread throughout the English-speaking world, a lasting legacy of a remarkable man.