CHAPTER XI

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LIFE AT TANGIER.

Mr. Hay had married, in 1845, a daughter of Mr. Carstensen, a former Danish Consul-General to Morocco. Except when the exigencies of a climate which proved very trying in summer for children of northern race compelled him to send them home, he, with his wife and young family, resided either at the old Government House in Tangier or in a villa called by him ‘The Wilderness,’ outside the walls, which had belonged to his father-in-law. This existence was only varied by missions to the Court or occasional visits to England. Beyond the very small European society, composed chiefly of the various Representatives and their families, residence in Tangier offered no occupation for the leisure hours of a young and active man. Thrown therefore on the resources of sport, he mingled constantly with the wilder natives of the hills as well as with the less uncivilised farmers and agricultural peasantry of the plains. His interest in these folk grew, and he gained their respect and even affection.

Justice amongst these people, when regarded from a purely personal point of view, as Mr. Hay found, often took rather a romantic than a strictly logical form. But his hope was to gain the hearts of the natives, and he knew that such an aim was best attained by bending in some cases to such national prejudices and customs as those which are illustrated in the following letter to his mother.

‘The Wilderness,’ Tangier, _June 22_, 1852.

The other night A. and I were woke by my servant Azdot informing me he had just seized a robber who had come into the garden to steal our horses, but that the fellow, though stabbed in the breast by the son of Hadj Abdallah, whom he had attacked with a sword, had managed to slip out of his jelab (outer cloak) and get away, leaving as trophies the jelab and a sword they had wrested from him.

A quarter of an hour after I had dismissed Azdot, I heard a couple of shots close by the house. My people had found the companion of the robber, who attacked them and then attempted to make off and was fired upon, but managed to get away—though tracks of blood were found in the gap of the hedge through which he had escaped.

This morning I sent off a body of my hunters into the country, about twelve miles from here, to where I suspected the robbers lived: the men were identified and brought before me. They confessed their crime, but declared that they had only come to rob the fruit.

Whilst telling the man the punishment I was about to inflict on him, he escaped; so we raised a hue and cry, and judge and attendants all made after him. His object, however, was only to get hold of my horse, whose protection he claimed, according to Moorish custom. He was again brought before me and I was compelled to let him off the bastinado[23], condemning him to prison only. R. was standing near me at the time and, to his surprise, the robber sprang towards him, and seizing him by the hand said to me, ‘I call on you in God’s name and for the love of this boy, under the hem of whose garment I seek refuge, to have pity on me.’

After this appeal there was no use in talking of punishing the man, and the upshot of all was that I caused the rascal to pay a doubloon to my men and two of the Kaid’s soldiers for arresting him. The man and his brother are the Robin Hoods of this neighbourhood, and, grateful for my pardon, declare that they are ready to defend me and mine whenever I call on them: or if any of my cows, camels, or horses are robbed to cause them to be restored.

Our Governor has given an order to my people to kill any man coming into my garden at night. This order is published: so we are safer from thieves than you are in England. I have generally some dozen fine fellows, armed to the teeth, who guard my garden all night, and who seek for no other compensation than to be my friends.

The promise made by the robber was faithfully kept, and Mr. Hay reaped the reward of his leniency in after years, as, by this clan at least, his property was always respected.

An indefatigable sportsman, Mr. Hay delighted in expeditions into remote districts of the country in pursuit of game. It was thus in part that he acquired his intimate knowledge of the character of the people. Brought into personal contact with the wild tribesmen, in circumstances which strongly appealed to their natural chivalry, he gained an influence among them which he was often able to turn to useful account. A good illustration of his power of dealing with the native races is afforded by his suppression of piracy among the Rifians. The story is told in his own words.

Before the year 1856, vessels becalmed on the Rif coast between the Algerian frontier and the Spanish fortress Peñon, which is situated about sixty miles to the eastward of the Moorish port of Tetuan, were frequently captured by Rifian ‘karebs,’ large galleys manned by thirty or forty men, armed with long guns, pistols, and daggers.

When a vessel becalmed, drawn by the current, approached the Rif coast, especially in the vicinity of the village of Benibugaffer, near Cape ‘Tres Forcas,’ about fifteen miles to the westward of the Spanish fortress of Melilla, the natives launched their ‘karebs,’ hidden in nooks on the rocky coast, or buried under sand, and set out in pursuit, firing volleys as they neared the vessel. The crew, if they had not escaped in the ship’s boats when the piratical craft hove in sight, were made prisoners, but were not in general ill-treated unless they attempted to offer resistance.

On landing, they were compelled to labour in the fields, receiving a daily allowance of very coarse food. The captured vessel was rifled of cargo and rigging, and then burnt, so as to leave no vestige.

In the year 1851 a British vessel was taken by the ‘karebs’ of Benibugaffer.

In pursuance of instructions from H.M.’s Government, a strong representation was made by me to the Sultan of Morocco, then Mulai Abderahman, demanding that the pirates should be chastised, that compensation should be given to the owner of the vessel, and that energetic steps should be taken by His Sherifian Majesty to put a stop to these piratical acts of his lawless subjects of the Rif.

The Sultan, on the receipt of this demand, dispatched officers from his Court to the Rif country with a Sherifian edict to the chieftains, directing that the sums demanded for the destruction of British property should be paid, and threatening, if further piracies were committed, to send a force into the Rif to chastise his rebellious subjects.

No attention was paid to this edict, for though the Rifians acknowledge the Sultan of Morocco as ‘Kaliph[24] Allah,’ H.M. being a direct descendant from the Prophet, and though they allow a governor of Rif extraction to be appointed by him to reside amongst them, they do not admit of his interference in the administration of government or in any kind of legislation, unless it happens he is voluntarily appealed to in cases of dispute.

The Rifians, however, pay annually a small tribute, which is generally composed of mules and honey, the latter article being much cultivated on the extensive tracts of heather in the Rif mountains. This tribute is collected by the Governor and transmitted to the Sultan.

After a lengthened correspondence with the Moorish Court, negotiations were closed by the Sultan declaring he had no power of control over the mountainous districts in the Rif, and therefore declining to be held responsible for the depredations committed on vessels approaching that coast. The British Government then dispatched a squadron to Gibraltar under Admiral Sir Charles Napier, with orders to embark a regiment at that garrison, and to proceed to the Rif coast to chastise the lawless inhabitants.

On his arrival at the Spanish fort of Melilla, which is about fifty miles to the westward of the Algerian frontier, Sir Charles called on the Spanish Governor and requested him to invite the chiefs of the neighbouring villages to come to Melilla to meet him.

On their arrival, the Admiral demanded compensation for the losses sustained by the owner of the British vessels which had been captured. The Rifians cunningly evaded discussion by replying that they could not accede to demands which did not emanate from the Sultan, whose orders they declared they would be prepared to obey.

Sir Charles accepted these vague assurances[25]; and with this unsatisfactory result returned with the squadron to Gibraltar, and addressed to me a communication, making known the language held to him by the Rifians, and requesting that I would dispatch an express courier to the Moorish Court to call upon the Sultan to give the requisite orders to the Rifians who, he declared, were prepared to obey, though he admitted he was ignorant of the names of the chieftains with whom he had the parley.

In my reply to the Admiral I expressed my belief that the Rifians had cunningly given these vague assurances to induce him to depart with his ships from their coast, and that I apprehended the Sultan would express his surprise that we should have been led to suppose that the piratical and rebellious inhabitants of the Rif coast would pay compensation or give other satisfaction, in pursuance of any orders which H.S.M. might issue.

In this sense, as I had expected, the Sultan replied to my note; holding out, however, a hope, which had been expressed in past years, that he would seek at a more favourable moment to make the Rif population, who had been from time immemorial in a semi-independent state, more subservient to his control.

Some months after the squadron had returned to England, a British vessel, becalmed off the village of Benibugaffer, was taken by a Rifian piratical craft, and the English crew were made captives.

Tidings having reached Gibraltar of the capture of the British ship, a gunboat was sent to Melilla to endeavour to obtain, through the intervention of the Spanish authorities and an offer of a ransom, the release of the British sailors, but this step was not attended with success. Having heard that the Englishmen who had been captured had been presented by the pirates to a Rif Marábet (or holy man) named Alhádari, who resided on the coast, and as I had in past years been in friendly communication with this person regarding some Rifians who had proceeded in a British vessel to the East on a pilgrimage to Mecca, and had been provided by me with letters of recommendation to British Consular officers, I wrote him a friendly letter, expressing the indignation I felt at the outrages which had been committed by his piratical brethren on British vessels; that I had been informed the authorities at Gibraltar had endeavoured, when they heard British sailors were in the hands of the pirates, to pay a ransom for their freedom, but had failed, as exorbitant demands had been put forward; and that since I had learnt my countrymen were in his hands, I felt satisfied they would be well treated, and that he would facilitate at once their release and return to Gibraltar; that I entertained too high an opinion of him to suppose he would not consent to their release except on the payment of a ransom, and therefore I would make no offer to purchase the liberty of my countrymen, but renewed those assurances of friendship and goodwill, of which I said I had already given proof in the past treatment of his brethren.

Alhádari replied that the sailors were under his care, had been well treated, and would be embarked in the first vessel which might be sent to receive them.

This engagement was faithfully executed, and at my suggestion the authorities at Gibraltar sent a suitable present to the worthy Marábet. I wrote also to thank Alhádari, and to beg that he would use his influence to put a stop to the disgraceful outrages committed in past years by his brethren on the lives and property of British subjects, and to say that I should probably take an opportunity of seeking to have a parley with the chiefs, in the hope of coming to an understanding with them to bring about a cessation of these outrages; adding, that if my friendly intervention did not put a stop to the piracy of his brethren, the British Government would be compelled, in concert with the Sultan, to resort to hostile measures on a large scale, and send forces by sea and land to chastise these rebellious subjects of His Sherifian Majesty.

In the spring of 1856 H.M. frigate Miranda, Captain Hall, arrived at Tangier with directions to convey me to the coast of Rif, and I embarked on April 21, taking with me a Rifian friend, Hadj Abdallah Lamarti, who was Sheikh of a village near Tangier called Suanni, whose inhabitants are Rifians, or of Rif extraction.

Hadj Abdallah had left the Rif in consequence of a blood feud. He was the chief of the boar-hunters at Tangier, and was looked up to with respect, not only by the rural population in the neighbourhood of that town, who are chiefly of Rif extraction, but also by the local authorities, who frequently employed him in the settlement of disputes with the refractory tribes in the mountainous districts of the Tangier province.

We steamed along the rocky coast of Rif and touched at the Spanish garrisons of Peñon and Alhucema. The former is a curious little rock, separated from the mainland by a very narrow channel. A colonel and a few soldiers garrisoned the fortress, which is apparently of no possible use, though the authorities at that time might have aided in checking piracy by stopping the passage of the Rif galleys. The rock is so small that there was not a walk fifty yards long on any part of it.

On the island of Alhucema, so called from the wild lavender that grows there, we also landed. The Spanish authorities were civil, but held out no hopes of being able to take steps to put a stop to piracy.

This island is also an insignificant possession, about half a mile distant from the mainland. The inhabitants had occasional communication with the Rifians, hoisting a flag of truce whenever a boat was dispatched to the shore; but Spaniards were not at that time allowed to make excursions on the mainland, nor were they permitted to obtain provisions except a few fowls, eggs, and honey.

On our arrival at Melilla, the Governor, Colonel Buceta[26], received us courteously. I made known to him that the British Government had directed me to proceed to the coast of Rif, to endeavour to come to an understanding with the chiefs with the view of putting a stop to piracy on that coast, the Sultan of Morocco having declared he had no power of control over his lawless subjects, who had shown an utter disregard of the peremptory orders which had been issued to restore British property captured by their piratical galleys; that in order to carry out this object I was anxious to have an interview with some of the chiefs, not only of the villages on the coast where the owners of the piratical galleys dwelt, but more especially with the chiefs of the neighbouring inland villages, as the latter derived no immediate benefit from the plunder of shipping.

Colonel Buceta endeavoured to dissuade me from this purpose, reminding me that Sir Charles Napier had failed in obtaining any beneficial result from his parley with the Rifians who had an interview with him in Melilla.

Perceiving from the Governor’s language that he entertained those feelings of jealousy which prevail with Spaniards regarding the intervention of any foreign Government in the affairs of Morocco, I let him understand that, should no beneficial result be obtained by my visit in putting a stop to the outrages committed on merchant vessels approaching the Rif coast, it would become a serious matter for the consideration of our Government whether steps should not be taken to inflict a chastisement on the Rifians by landing a force, and in conjunction with the Sultan’s troops which might be dispatched, at our instigation, for that purpose, to destroy the hamlets and boats on the coast. The question might also arise, perhaps, of erecting a fortress in some sheltered spot where a gunboat could be placed to guard the coast against pirates, which I observed the authorities at Spanish fortresses had hitherto been unable to effect.

This language sufficed to decide Colonel Buceta to accede to my wishes; but he informed me that, in consequence of late acts of aggression on the part of the natives, all communication with the garrison had been cut off, and that no Rifians were allowed to enter; it was therefore out of the question that he could admit any chieftains into Spanish territory. Neither did he think the latter would be disposed to venture into the gates of the fortress.

I then proposed to be allowed to dispatch my Rifian friend Hadj Abdallah Lamarti with an invitation to some of the neighbouring chiefs, both on the seaboard and inland, to meet me on the neutral ground.

Colonel Buceta assented, but he repeated that he could not admit any Rifians into the garrison, nor send an escort to accompany me, should I pass the gates to go into the Rif country, adding that he thought I should be incurring a serious risk of being carried off a prisoner by the Rifians, if in the parley I should happen to express myself in language such as I had used to him regarding the outrages committed by these lawless people.

His predecessor, he informed me, in consequence of the frequent hostilities which had taken place between the natives and the garrison, had proposed to have a meeting with some chieftains within the garrison. This they declined, fearing, as they alleged, some act of treachery; but it was finally agreed that they should meet the Governor on the neutral ground; that he could bring an escort of twenty-five armed men, and that the chiefs would also be accompanied by an equal number of followers; that the Governor and one chief, both unarmed, were to advance to a central spot that was selected about 150 yards distant from where their followers assembled, and that the Spanish Governor could also bring with him an interpreter.

This arrangement was carried out, and a Rifian chief, a man of gigantic stature and herculean frame, advanced to meet the Spanish Governor.

The parley commenced in a friendly manner; propositions were made by each party regarding the conditions upon which peaceful relations were to be re-established; but without bringing about any result.

The Spanish Governor, finding the demands put forward by the chieftain to be of an unacceptable character, expressed himself strongly on the subject. A warm dispute ensued, and on the Governor using some offensive expression, the Rifian seized in his brawny arms the Governor, who was a little man, and chucking him over his shoulders like a sack of grain, called out to the Spanish detachment of soldiers to blaze away, and at the same time to his own men to fire if the Spanish soldiers fired or attempted to advance, whilst the chieftain ran off with the Governor, who was like a shield on his back, to his followers.

The officer in command of the Spanish detachment, fearing that the Governor might be killed, did not venture to let his men fire or advance, and the Governor was carried off prisoner to a village about three miles off on the hills, and notice was then sent to the fortress that he would not be released until a ransom of 3000 dollars was sent.

The Rifians kept the Governor prisoner until a reference was made to Madrid, and orders were sent for the ransom to be paid. ‘Now,’ said Colonel Buceta, ‘your fate if you trust yourself to these treacherous people will probably be the same, and I shall be quite unable to obtain your release.’

I thanked the Governor for the advice, but declared that I must fulfil my mission and was prepared to run all risks, having been accustomed for many years to deal with Rifians at Tangier.

Buceta then consented that I should be allowed to pass the gates of the garrison and invite the chiefs of the neighbouring Rif villages to a parley on the neutral ground.

Colonel Buceta, a distinguished officer well known for his great courage and decision, was I believe, on the whole, pleased that I held to my purpose, though he warned me again and again that I was incurring a great risk, and that in no manner could he intervene, if I and the English officer who might accompany me were taken prisoners.

My messenger returned and informed me that the neighbouring chiefs, both of the inland and of the piratical villages of Benibugaffer, would meet me on the neutral ground as had been proposed to them.

Accompanied by Capt. Hall, who commanded H.M.’s frigate Miranda, my friend Hadj Abdallah, and a ‘kavass,’ we proceeded to the rendezvous.

Five or six chiefs awaited our advent, attended by some hundred followers, stalwart fellows, many of them more than six feet high.

The chiefs wore brown hooded dresses, not unlike the costume of a Franciscan friar; but part of the shirt-sleeves and front were embroidered with coloured silks. Handsome leather-belts girded their loins. A few of the elders wore white woollen ‘haiks,’ like unto the Roman toga or mantle without seam, such as our Saviour is said to have worn.

Some of the wild fellows had doffed their outer garments, carrying them on their shoulders as they are wont to do when going to battle. Their inner costume was a white cotton tunic, coming down to the knees, with long wide sleeves fastened behind the back by a cord. Around their loins each wore a leathern girdle embroidered in coloured silk, from which on the one side hung a dagger and a small pouch for bullets; while on the other was suspended a larger leathern pouch or bag prettily embroidered and having a deep fringe of leather, in which powder is carried; containing also a pocket to carry the palmetto fibre, curiously enough called ‘lif,’ used instead of wads over powder and ball. Their heads were closely shaved, except that on the right side hung a long lock of braided hair, carefully combed and oiled. Several of them were fair men with brown or red beards, descendants perhaps of those Goths who crossed over into Africa.

The wild fellows reclined in groups on a bank, immediately behind where the chiefs were standing to receive us. After mutual greetings I addressed them in Arabic, which though not the common language, for Berber is spoken in the Rif, yet is understood by the better classes, who learn to read the Koran and to write in the ‘jama’ or mosque school. The Berber is not a written language.

‘Oh, men! I come amongst you as a friend; an old friend of the Mussulmans. I have been warned that Rifians are not to be trusted, and that I and those who accompany me are in danger of treachery; but I take no heed of such warnings, for Rifians are renowned for bravery, and brave men never act in a dastardly manner. My best friends at Tangier are Rifians, or those whose sires came from the Rif, such as my friend here, Hadj Abdallah Lamarti. They are my hunters, and I pass days and nights with them out hunting, and am treated by them and look upon them as my brethren; so here I have come to meet you, with the Captain of the frigate, unarmed, as you see, and without even an escort of my countrymen from the ship-of-war lying there, or from the Spanish garrison, for I felt sure I should never require protection in the Rif against any man.’

‘You are welcome,’ exclaimed the chiefs. ‘The English have always been our friends,’ and a murmur of approval ran through the groups of armed men seated on the bank.

‘Yes!’ I continued, ‘the English have always been the friends of the Sultan, the ‘Kaliph Allah,’ and of his people.

‘You are all Mussulmans, and as followers of the Prophet every year a number of your brethren, who have the means, go to the shrine of the Prophet at Mecca, as required by your religion. How do they go? In English vessels from Tangier, as you know, and they are therefore, when on board, under the English flag and protection. They are well treated and their lives and property are safe. They return to Tangier in the same manner, and many of them have come to me to express their gratitude for the recommendations I have given them to English officers in the East, and the kindness they have received at their hands.

‘These facts, I think, are known to you; but let us now consider what is the conduct of certain Rifians,—not all, I am happy to add, but those who dwell on the coast and possess ‘karebs,’ for the alleged purpose of trade with Tangier and Tetuan, and for fishing.

‘The inhabitants of these coast villages, especially of the neighbouring village of Benibugaffer, when they espy a peaceful merchant vessel becalmed off their coast, launch a ‘kareb’ with forty or fifty armed men, and set out in pursuit. The crews of these merchant vessels are unarmed, and generally consist of not more than eight or nine men. When they observe a ‘kareb’ approaching with a hostile appearance, they escape in their little boats to the open sea, trusting to Providence to be picked up by some passing vessel before bad weather sets in, which might cause their small craft to founder. The merchant vessel is then towed to the beach, where she is stranded, pillaged of cargo and rigging, and burnt.

‘I now appeal to all true Mussulmans whether such iniquitous acts are not against the laws of God and of the Prophet. These pirates are not waging war against enemies or infidels, they are mere sea robbers, who set aside the laws of the Prophet to pillage the peaceful ships of their friends the English, to whom they are indebted for conveying their brethren in safety to worship at the Holy ‘Kaaba’ of their Prophet.

‘To these English whom they rob, and also murder if they attempt to resist, they are indebted for much of the clothing they wear, for the iron and steel of which their arms are made, and for other commodities. I now appeal to those Rifians who dwell in inland villages, and who take no part in and have no profit from these lawless acts, and I ask whether they will continue to tolerate such infractions of Allah’s laws? Can these men of Benibugaffer who have been guilty of frequent acts of piracy, can they be Mussulmans? No, they must be “kaffers” (rebels against God).’ As I said this, I heard from the mound behind me, where the Benibugaffer people were seated, the sound of the cocking of guns, and a murmur, ‘He calls us kaffers.’ Looking round, I perceived guns levelled at my back.

One of the elder Chiefs rose and cried out, ‘Let the English Chief speak! What he says is true! Those who rob and murder on the seas innocent people are not Mussulmans, for they do not obey the law of God.’

I continued: ‘Hear what your wise Chief says. I fancied I heard a sound like the click of a gun being cocked. Some foolish boys must be sitting amongst the assembly, for no brave Rifians, Benibugaffers included, would ever commit a cowardly murder on an unarmed man who has come amongst you trusting to the honour and friendship between the Rifians and English from ancient times.

‘You have, I think, heard that the English Government has frequently complained to the Sultan Mulai Abderahman, the Kaliph Allah and Emir El Mumenin (Prince of Believers), of the commission of these outrages, and has put forward a demand for reparation and compensation for damages.

‘The Sultan, who is the friend of the powerful Queen of England, my Sovereign, under whose sway there are fifty million of Mussulmans whom she governs with justice and kindness, issued his Sherifian commands to you Rifians to cease from these outrages; but you paid no attention to the orders of the Kaliph of the Prophet.

‘The Queen then sent a squadron to chastise the pirates and obtain redress; but the Admiral took pity on the villages, where innocent women and children dwelt, and did not fire a gun or burn a ‘kareb,’ as he might have done. He had a parley with the Benibugaffer people and other inhabitants of villages where boats are kept.

‘They made false promises and pretended they would cease to commit outrages, but, as was to be expected, they have broken faith, and since that parley have been guilty of further acts of piracy. So now I have come to see you and hear whether the Rifians in the inland villages will continue to suffer these outrages to be committed by those who dwell on the coast, which may expose all the honest and innocent inhabitants of the Rif to the horrors of war.

‘I have begged that no steps should be taken by my countrymen, lest the innocent should suffer, until I make this final attempt to come to an understanding with you; but I have to warn you, as a true friend, if another outrage be committed, my great and powerful Sovereign, in conjunction with the Sultan, will send large forces by sea and by land to carry fire and sword into your villages, and bring the whole population under subjection. H.S.M. may then think fit to compel the Rif tribes dwelling on the coast to migrate to the interior of his realms, or, at any rate, they will no longer be allowed to possess a single boat for trade, or even for fishing.

‘I now ask—Will you inland inhabitants tolerate the continuance of piracy on the part of your brethren on the coast?—Will you brave inhabitants of the coast continue to set Allah’s laws at defiance, and thus expose your lives and property, and those of your inland brethren, to destruction?’

The old Chief again spoke, and others stood up and joined him, saying: ‘He is right. We shall not allow these robberies to be committed on our friends the English; such outrages must cease, and if continued, we shall be prepared to chastise the guilty.’

The Benibugaffer Chiefs said, ‘We approve.’

‘I know,’ I continued, ‘you Rifians do not sign treaties or like documents; but the words of brave men are more worthy of trust than treaties, which are too often broken. Give me your hands.’ I held out mine. As the pledge of good faith I shook the hands of the chiefs, including the Benibugaffer.

‘Remember,’ I said, ‘it is not English vessels, but all vessels without exception must be respected on approaching your shores.’

‘We agree,’ they cried.

Upon which I exclaimed, ‘I have faith in your words. May God’s mercy and blessing be on you all and grant you prosperity and happiness! The Rifians and English shall remain true friends for ever. I bid you farewell.’

‘Stay,’ said the chief of a neighbouring village, ‘come with us and be our guest. We shall kill an ox to feast you and our brethren here, and bid you welcome. You are a hunter; we shall show you sport, and become better acquainted with each other. Upon our heads shall be your life and those of your friends.’

Pointing to the frigate, I said: ‘That vessel has to return immediately, and I have to report what has been done, in order to stop all preparations for seeking through other means to obtain the satisfaction you have so readily offered. I should have been delighted to have gone with you and should have felt as safe as if amongst my own countrymen. You are a brave race, incapable of doing a wrong to a true friend. I shall never forget the manner in which you have received me.

‘I bid you all farewell. I believe in your promises, even those made by the Benibugaffer. Send messengers at once to the villages on the coast and let them know the promises you have made, which they also must be required to carry out strictly.’

The Chiefs and their followers tried all they could to persuade me to accompany them but finally consented that I should depart, on promising that I would some day revisit them.

Colonel Buceta was surprised to learn the result of my visit, but said the Rifians would never keep faith, and that we should soon hear of fresh acts of piracy. ‘In such case,’ I replied, ‘we shall have to land a force and burn every hamlet and boat on the coast; but I have every hope the Rifians will keep faith.’

They have kept faith, and since that parley near Melilla no vessels, either British or of other nationality, have been captured or molested by the Rifians[27]

It was amongst these wild and lawless Rifians that Mr. Hay found the most thorough sportsmen, and also men capable of great attachment and devotion. Always much interested in the history of this race, in their customs and mode of life, he wrote an interesting account of the tribes which inhabit the north of Morocco and of his personal intercourse with them.

The Rif province extends along the Mediterranean coast to the eastward from a site called Borj Ustrak, in the province of Tetuan, for about a hundred and fifty miles to the stream marked in maps as ‘Fum Ajrud’ (mouth of Ajrud), the northern boundary between Morocco and Algiers.

The Rif country to the southward, inland from the Mediterranean coast, extends about thirty-five miles and on the westward is bordered by the Tetuan province and the mountains of Khamás and Ghamára.

The population of Rif amounts, as far as can be calculated, to about 150,000 souls. The Rifians are a Berber race, and have never been conquered by the various nations—Phœnicians, Romans, Goths, and Arabs—who have invaded Mauritania: they have always maintained their independence; but on the conquest of Morocco by the Arabs, the Rifians accepted the Mohammedan faith, and acknowledged the Sovereigns of Morocco as the Kaliphs of the Prophet.

The country is mountainous, the soil in most parts poor, and though the Rif is rich in iron, copper, and other minerals, there are no roads or means of conveyance to the seaboard. There are large forests of ‘el aris[28],’ which the Rifians convey in their ‘karebs’ (sailing boats) to Tetuan and Tangier. They have no saws, so when a tree is felled it is cut away with a hatchet until a beam or plank is shaped, generally about ten feet long by a foot wide. This timber has a strong aromatic odour, and when not exposed to damp is more durable than oak. It was used for the woodwork of the Alhambra at Granada and other Moorish palaces in Spain, and though many of the Arabesque ornaments in plaster or stucco have fallen into decay and walls have crumbled, this woodwork remains sound.

The Rifians are an industrious race; but their barren hills do not produce sufficient grain to provide food for the population. Large numbers migrate every year to different parts of Morocco, especially to the northern provinces, and are employed to cultivate orchards and gardens round Tangier and Tetuan. The majority of the inhabitants of the town and neighbouring districts of Tangier are of Rif extraction.

In the Rif the natives do not submit to any authority except upon religious or legal questions, such as marriage, inheritance, and title deeds. The ‘f’ki,’ or chief priest in a village mosque, draws up, with the aid of ‘tolba’ or public notaries, all legal documents regarding marriage or property. In other matters the Rifian does not submit to legislation; his gun, pistol, and dagger are his judge and jury—yet crimes such as robbery, theft, or outrages on women are rarely known, but murder from feud is rife throughout the country to a frightful extent. No man’s life is secure, even though he be a distant relative, such as the great-grandson, of some one who may have taken a life thirty years before in a blood feud. The widow of a murdered man will teach her son, as soon as he can carry a gun or pistol, how to use those arms, and daily remind him that his father must be avenged lest the son be looked upon as despicable.

The men always go armed even in their own villages. Cursing, swearing, or abusive language, so common amongst the Moors, are rarely heard in Rif; for the man who ventures to use an opprobrious epithet knows that he incurs the risk of being stabbed or shot. A Rifian never forgives or forgets an insult.

They are distinguished for their courage. During the war between Spain and Morocco in 1859, they did not obey the appeal of the Sultan for assistance; but the inhabitants of the district of Zarhon near Fas, who are of Rif extraction, sent a contingent of 1,500 men to Tetuan. They arrived a few days before the battle of ‘Agraz’—the last which took place between the Moors and Spaniards before the peace of 1860—and fought so determinedly that two-thirds of their number fell during that battle.

Polygamy is extremely rare in Rif. Few men venture to take a second wife lest offence be given thereby to the father or brother of either of the women they have married. Even in Tangier, where there is a population of over 9,000 Mohammedans, chiefly Rifians by descent, I never heard of more than four or five Moors who had two wives. When an exception occurs, it has generally been at the request of the wife, who, having had no child, begs her husband to marry some cousin or friend, selected perhaps by herself.

Immoral conduct on the part of married women or maidens is unknown; for, should they be suspected of leading an irregular life by father, husband, or other male relative, such disgrace is wiped out by death.

Rifian women do not cover their faces. If a man sees a young woman fetching water from a well or walking alone, he will avoid meeting her, and even turn back rather than run the risk of being seen by some relative of the female and be suspected of having communicated with her by word or gesture. He will shun the woman who may be alone, as a modest girl in Europe might try to avoid a man whom she should happen to meet when walking in some lonely spot.

Some years ago an old Rifian, one of my boar-hunters, who dwelt at a village near Tangier, presented himself before me looking very miserable and haggard. ‘I take refuge under the hem of your garment,’ he exclaimed, ‘and deliver into your hands these title-deeds of my hut and garden, also a document regarding a mare; these are all my possessions. I am about to deliver myself up to the Basha of Tangier, Kaid Abbas Emkashéd, and to ask that I be sent to prison.’

On inquiring of the old hunter why he thought of taking such an extraordinary step, and also what he expected me to do with his papers and property, he replied, whilst trembling from head to foot, with tears running down his rugged cheeks and his teeth chattering as he spoke, ‘My youngest daughter, whom I loved so dearly’—here he gasped for breath—‘is no more. I have buried her. She was put to death with my consent.’ Poor Hadj Kassim then covered his face and sobbed violently, paused to recover himself, and continued, ‘The authorities have heard that my daughter, who was very beautiful, has disappeared, and have given orders that some innocent persons who are suspected should be arrested, as it is supposed she has been carried off or murdered. I cannot remain a passive spectator whilst innocent men suffer, feeling that the whole blame of the disappearance of my child rests on me alone. My daughter was of a joyous character, and, like a silly girl, thought only of amusement. Both her mother and I had repeatedly punished her for going to weddings or other festivities without our permission. She had been warned that misconduct on her part, as a Rifian maiden, would never be forgiven; but she took no heed. Some neighbours reported that she had been seen going to Tangier to dance in the “mesriahs.” Her shameless conduct became a source of great scandal in the village, and as it was supposed that I countenanced her misconduct, I was shunned by my friends. They no longer returned my salams, and when I joined the elders, who are wont to assemble of an afternoon on our village green, they turned their backs on me.

‘Life had become a burden, and my son, who was also taunted by young men for having a sister of bad repute, came to me yesterday, when he heard that she had again gone off to the town, and declared that as Rifians we could not allow a daughter and sister who did not obey her parents, and brought disgrace on her family, to live.

‘Though I loved dearly my foolish child,’ continued the old hunter, ‘I gave way to the passionate language of my son, and consented that, should we discover she danced at the “mesriah,” she should die.

‘We went to Tangier and concealed ourselves near the entrance of a “mesriah” we were told she frequented. We saw her enter, followed by some young Moors. A little before sunset she came out, enveloped in her “haik,” and walked hurriedly towards our village. She did not see us, and we followed her until we reached a path in the brushwood not far from our village, and then we stopped her. My son accused her of leading a disgraceful life, and then struck her heavily with a bill-hook on the head. She fell, never to speak again. We buried her in a secluded spot. My son killed her, but I am really her murderer—I alone am responsible for her death; but my wretched child could not have lived to be a curse and a disgrace.’ Then the poor Hadj trembled in his acute misery, and shook as if he had the palsy.

‘I shall,’ he continued, ‘present myself to the Basha. I shall not say I am the murderer, as the Basha is a Rifian, and will understand all when I declare I wish no man to be arrested on account of the disappearance of my child, and that I alone am responsible for whatever may have happened to her.

‘Now,’ he added, ‘you know, according to Moorish law, no man can be punished for murder unless he acknowledges his crime, and that after twelve months’ imprisonment, should no witnesses appear, the accused can claim to be liberated from prison. If I live, therefore, I shall be released; but I care no longer for life, except it be to work and provide for my wife and remaining daughter. As to the title-deeds of my property, I implore you to keep them until I am released, for, as you know, it is the practice of the authorities to take possession of the property of a prisoner who is a criminal such as I am. You have often lent me small sums of money—for I have been your hunter—and you have not asked to be repaid. Should there be any attempt on the part of the authorities to take possession of my house, garden, or mare, or should my family be called upon to give up the title-deeds, I have directed them to say the “Bashador” is in possession of all our property as a guarantee for repayment of money advanced by him. This will check extortion. The Basha is of my tribe, and will be just and merciful to a poor Rifian in misfortune. He knows that death is better than dishonour and disgrace. Oh! my unhappy child!’ he exclaimed; ‘your life has been taken, and I long for the day when Allah may take mine!’ and again the old man wept piteously.

I took charge of his papers; he presented himself that day before the Basha, and after having a few questions put to him, was lodged in prison. As he left the presence of the Basha, the latter called to the guard who led him away, and said, ‘No fetters are to be placed on this man; his family may visit him.’

Hadj Kassim remained a year in prison, and on his release presented himself to me to recover his papers, informing me that no steps had been taken to seize his property, but, on the contrary, the Basha had shown him kindness in prison, sending him occasionally a little present in money; and that when he was brought before him, on being let out of prison, the Basha said, ‘We are Rifians. The most High and Merciful God forgives the sins of men. I also forgive thee.’

The wretched man never hunted again or associated with his fellow-villagers, whose esteem and regard he had regained. His spirit was broken; he wandered about, pale and emaciated—speechless even—amongst his friends. A few months after his release from prison I learnt that he had died.

The interest which Mr. Hay took in the natives was not entirely confined to the Rifians. The needs and sufferings of his poorer neighbours—whether Christian, Hebrew, or Moslem—always met with his sympathy, and, so far as lay in his power, he sought to assist them in times of distress. In December, 1857, after a severe famine, he writes to his wife, then in England:—

My farm has yielded wheat plentifully: I have enough for the house, for seed, and some hundred almuds over, which I shall give in your name to the poor Christians, Jews, and Moors this winter—equally divided—as there is, I fear, great misery. The poor peasants had no seed to sow this year, so there is a lack of wheat. I have asked the Sultan to lend seed gratis to the poorer farmers, and, to practise what I preach, I shall lay out £100 for the same object. If something is not done we shall have fever and famine again this year. At present the general health is excellent and there are no fevers, but I fear the winter, and poor folk flocking into the town, will bring typhus again.

Only think of a rascally Jew trying to sell me some $10,000 worth of stolen jewels for $2,000. From the stupidity of the Governor’s soldiers, the accomplices in the robbery made off with the jewels before they were seized, though I had given notice. The only person seized was the Jew who tried to bribe me into committing the roguery.

Curiously enough, since my return, there have been two other attempts made to impose upon me gifts to large amounts to secure my good-will. Of course I have declined to receive them, but I am almost ashamed to think that people should have such a poor opinion of my character as to venture upon making me such offers.

In proof that his kindness was not unrecognised by the natives, the following anecdote is told by Mrs. Chapman, Sir John’s only surviving sister:—

Two or three years after the famine in Morocco, one of the tribes from the interior sent a deputation of chiefs who asked to speak to John.

During the great scarcity, he had sent for corn from Spain, and dispatched camels laden with grain to the different tribes who were suffering from starvation, to relieve their distress and supply them with seed to sow their land.

The chiefs, fine hill-men, were received by my brother and unfolded the purpose of their mission. They said, ‘We have heard a report that you are about to dig a well in one of your gardens. We come to entreat you to allow us to do this thing for you, as a slight proof of our gratitude for your generosity. You heard that we and our families were starving; you did not know us, but you believe in the one God and Father of us all, and you would not let your brothers want; you sent your gold across the sea and caused a ship to come, laden with grain, and sent camels with sacks of corn for our food and to sow our land. God will reward you!—but let _us_ do this little thing. We will come with our families and encamp around your garden, we will dig your well and tend your fruit and flowers and take nothing. We will bring our cattle and our sheep for food, and you shall be at no cost on our account. This will partly satisfy our desire to show our gratitude, and you, when you drink of the water of this well, will remember your poor brethren whom you saved from death, for love of the one God.’

John consented, and gave them leave to do as they wished.

When the report spread that these wild people were coming within a mile of Tangier, the alarmed townsfolk sent a messenger to beg my brother to dissuade the tribe from coming, declaring that they were much to be feared, and that their proximity would endanger the peace of the town. My brother told the messenger he would be responsible for the orderly conduct of the tribe.

They came and dug the well, the garden and grounds were left in perfect order, and the strangers quitted the neighbourhood in peace, going quietly back to their hills.

Another instance of the gratitude of which these wild people are capable may be inserted here, though the actual occurrence took place a few years later, and after another and similar bad season with failure of crops in the Rif.

In the stress of famine the starving mountaineers crowded, with their families, to Tangier in search of work and food. Strenuous efforts were made by the people of Tangier and the foreign Representatives to assist these unhappy folk. In reply to an appeal from Sir John, a large subscription was raised in Gibraltar, and expended in flour, which was sent for distribution to the care of the British Legation at Tangier.

Some of these unfortunate Rifians found work near Tangier; others, their immediate wants relieved, as tidings came from Rif that rain had fallen and prospects were better, returned to their homes in small detachments; but many remained. Cholera and smallpox broke out amongst these, and numbers died, leaving orphan children, too young, in many instances, to be able to give any account of themselves or their families. These were adopted by charitable townsfolk, and are now many of them prosperous, well-to-do individuals. But when the cholera and famine were ended, several hundred Rifians, with their families, remained. These poor people were finally dismissed in a body to their own country, provided with the means of purchasing seed-corn, and with clothing and food for their journey. When leaving Tangier they assembled at daybreak outside the gates of the town. There, raising their hands to heaven, they called down a blessing from God on the town and people, and more especially on the Christians who had shown them such charity and kindness.

Not long after they gave good proof of their gratitude. A ship was wrecked on the coast inhabited by some of these very Rifians. The crew were succoured and sheltered by them, and a contingent personally conducted them in safety to Tangier.

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