CHAPTER XVII

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THIRD MISSION TO MARÁKESH.

In 1863 Sir John went to the Court at the city of Marákesh on a special mission from Her Majesty’s Government, with the object of obtaining certain concessions and privileges. In this mission he was in great part successful, though many of the promises made to him to introduce improvements and reforms never passed beyond words.

The following year, 1864, saw Sir John again in attendance at the Court, which was then at Rabát. From that city he writes to his mother on October 16:—

I arrived here on the 28th ult., having passed a week on the road, and had good sport with small game.

The Sultan did not enter Rabát till the 13th inst., having been detained en route in ‘eating up’ some rebel tribes, some of the latter causing him several days of uneasy digestion.

The night before His Majesty’s entry into Rabát, the Uzir tells me, the Sultan woke up about 11 o’clock and summoned him. It was to ask whether the Uzir thought I would like to see His Majesty enter, and if so to bid him write off and invite me to witness the scene from a good position, where a guard of honour would be stationed to protect us from the wild hordes, or, if I so pleased, to meet and have an audience of His Majesty in the midst of his troops before he entered.

As a true courtier, I chose the latter course, and, having put on our armour, we sallied out at 9 a.m. to meet the Sultan.

As usual on such festive occasions, it poured buckets. I was well covered, but not so were the members of my mission, who looked in their uniforms and feathers like drowned cocks.

Adjoining the outer walls of Rabát, which are about a mile from the town, there is a beautiful plain of red sand, with small undulating hills here and there, and covered with palmettos, shrubs, and wild flowers. The vanguard of the army, which latter consisted of about 30,000 men, was already in sight, and picturesque groups of the irregular cavalry had stationed themselves on these heights, as, I suppose, pickets acting as a sort of police to the wild hordes that followed.

The rain ceased, and the sun broke out as the Royal cortège appeared. The disciplined troops, a body of about 6,000 infantry, dressed in scarlet jackets and blue trousers, marched in parallel columns, leaving a space of about a quarter of a mile between each column. The disciplined cavalry, some 500 strong, riding in front and rear and on the flanks to keep order. Within the lines came the tribes, each forming a separate body and marching with some sort of regularity, banners flying and pipes squealing, as if they had been Highlanders.

Then followed some mules and camels with field guns and ammunition, and, after these, bodies of the Sultan’s Bokhári, or Royal guard. Troops of forty or fifty of these every now and then wheeling back and charging towards the group that surrounded the Sultan, fired their guns in the air.

His Majesty was preceded by a body of running footmen; then came the Chief Usher, followed by two men on foot bearing long lances—the last and sole signs of ancient Moorish chivalry; then the Sultan himself, mounted on a beautiful grey horse, a monster for a Barb, being not less than seventeen hands high. Behind His Majesty were the umbrella-bearer and the sword-bearer, followed at a little distance by the Ministers of State, mounted on mules, and by a palanquin covered with scarlet cloth borne between two mules. It was all closed, so there may have been some houri within.

As the Sultan drew near, the troops of Rabát, with the Governor at their head, approached, forming a most brilliant line, in dresses of all the colours of the rainbow adorned with gold and silver. His Majesty wheeled his horse, broke through the lines of infantry, and rode towards the newcomers. Down went the Mussulmen with their heads in the dust, the Governor playing fugleman, and then raised themselves, crying, ‘Long live our Lord and Master!’

The Sultan raised his hands towards heaven, and called a blessing on his townspeople of Rabát.

We stood a little to the right of the Rabátin: His Majesty, instead of awaiting our approach, and to the astonishment of all fanatics, turned right back and rode towards us. We advanced until I was close to His Majesty, my suite a little behind, and the Minister for Foreign Affairs by my side. Down went his Excellency in the dust, and I took off my hat and made a bow. The Sultan, who is the _ne plus ultra_ of stammerers, tried to make a gracious speech, but stuck at the word ‘Mahabábek’ (welcome). I took pity and made him a short speech, which he received with a smile such as the Rabátin declare he never bestowed on _them_.

This ceremony being over, His Majesty again took up his position in the procession, and the march was resumed.

I should mention that several bands of the disciplined troops were playing European marches; some, really well.

The Minister for Foreign Affairs then suggested that we should keep away from the crowd; but His Majesty dispatched another of his Ministers to invite me to enter his cortège—and to give a wigging to our chaperon, the Foreign Minister, for not having asked me what I should prefer to do. The scene was so interesting, and indeed the most picturesque and strange I had ever witnessed, that I gladly accepted the offer, and we rode in the cortège to the palace. As the Sultan entered the palace doors, we could hear the ‘lu, lu, lu’ (the hallelujahs) of the women. I had a short interview with the Uzir, and then took my leave.

The Mohammedans are much surprised at the Sultan’s gracious reception of me in the midst of his wild troops. I believe it was a political move as well as an act of courtesy, and that, in entering Rabát with his hordes, where several of the Foreign Representatives are expected, he desired to set them an example of how to treat the Nazarenes. It has had its effect, for we have not even overheard the word ‘kaffer’ (infidel) muttered. Strict orders have been given, and due punishment threatened, I hear, for any offence towards a Christian.

The Uzir has returned my visit of ceremony, and now my work begins. As I told the Uzir, I come to see them as a friendly doctor, to offer advice for health and happiness, but that like most medicines, mine are bitter and unpalatable. We shall see what I shall be enabled to do.

This country is in such a rotten state that though the Sultan be a clever and good man, anxious for reform, he has not the courage nor the _men_ about him to carry it into execution. To give you an idea of his intelligence, an English engineer, Fairlie yclept, who is in His Sultanic Majesty’s service, tells me he lately erected a steam-engine in Marákesh. The Sultan watched him at work, and after one lesson told Fairlie to have fires lit and direct everybody to go away. Fairlie could not imagine what was going to happen, for he saw carpets and cushions and paniers of food pouring into the building where the engine-room was. The next morning he learnt that His Majesty had invited all the royal ladies to a picnic, set the engine working, and had some fun with his harem, terrifying them by turning off steam, &c. Fairlie says the man is naturally an engineer—he is certainly as black as any stoker.

We expect the French and Spanish Ministers, frigates, &c., so Rabát will, I fear be for a time a focus of intrigues.

You will say ‘jam satis’ of Morocco!

The practice of ‘eating up’ mentioned in this letter has always been a favourite method with the Sultans of Morocco when desirous of quelling discontent or rebellion amongst the unruly tribes of the interior. If these in any part of the Moorish dominions, driven frantic by the cruelty and extortion of their rulers, show signs of revolt, an army is sent, like a plague of locusts, who literally eat up the disaffected country. In the case of the larger districts, such as Sus, these military expeditions are often commanded by the Sultan in person. Crops are devoured or destroyed, heavy fines levied, and sometimes villages sacked and burnt. When all the provisions in the district are consumed, the army moves off, leaving behind starvation and desolation, and a people often too broken-spirited to think again, for many years to come, of revolt. Sometimes, however, amongst the martial tribes in the interior, who enjoy the protection afforded them by living in a mountainous district, the Sultan finds the task of quelling a rebellion a difficult one, and eventually retires with his army, having only succeeded in fomenting the discontent of his subjects against his rule.

In 1868 the question of the exchange of Gibraltar for Ceuta was raised, and a letter to the _Times_ from Admiral Grey, a former Senior Naval Officer at Gibraltar, caused much discussion of the subject by the press: the general feeling in England being against such an exchange.

Writing to Sir Henry Layard in 1871, Sir John gives his opinion upon the question at issue:—

I think it is the interest, and ought to be the policy, of Great Britain to maintain friendly relations with Spain. I am even one of those unwise men, who would like to see Gibraltar restored to Spain, and thus extract a thorn which festers in the heart of every proud Spaniard—a sentiment I do not blame.

I am told by important military and even naval men, that Gibraltar would be worthless in war time as a port of refuge. In the present state of gunnery, nothing could live there, either on land or water, unless under a bomb-proof roof, so we should be compelled to have an iron fleet to protect 6,000 men, cooped up. _Cui bono!!_ If we could find a _quid pro quo_ suitable as a coaling station in time of peace in these waters, I say the sooner we make terms with Spain the better.

Sir John always declared that, from a military point of view, he was no judge of the question; but as a diplomatist he strongly advocated the exchange of Gibraltar for Ceuta. Our possession of the Rock being most bitterly distasteful to our national ally Spain, he maintained that by occupying Ceuta in its stead we should conciliate the Spanish nation. He was of opinion that so long as Gibraltar should remain in our hands, no friendly footing could be established between the two countries. Spain, though unable alone to take the fortress from us, would certainly ally herself with our enemies in case of a European war in order to recover this stronghold.

The Moors, on the other hand, would welcome the presence of Great Britain on their coasts, not only as a safeguard to their national independence, but as a guarantee against the encroachments of their hereditary enemies the Spaniards, whose desire to increase their possessions at the cost of Morocco is a constant terror to the Moors.

The objections which might be raised by other Foreign Powers to such an exchange could be met by Great Britain undertaking not to attempt to increase her territory in Morocco beyond what would be acquired from Spain, and further to maintain the integrity of Morocco as an independent and strictly neutral State.

Great Britain, once established in a stronghold on the shores of Morocco, and relieved from the jealousy and ill-feeling of Spain, would be able to insist on the reforms so necessary in Morocco, and could bring pressure to bear on the Moorish Government to open up trade, and to permit the exploitation of the immense mineral wealth of the country. Coal, as is well known, is to be found on the Straits Coast, though foreign jealousy, as much as the retrogressive policy of the Moorish Government, has hitherto impeded the working of that and other minerals.

As a coal store for the Royal and mercantile marine, as a dockyard for the refitting of vessels, as a free port for the storage of merchandise, Ceuta would offer the same advantages as Gibraltar in time of peace. As a dépôt for trade with Barbary, it would obviously possess many advantages over the Rock. Nor was this last argument to be despised, when the immense resources of Morocco as a grain-producing country are considered. Her granary is capable of supplying Great Britain with wheat, which could be exported by sea more quickly and cheaply than from elsewhere, and would in a measure relieve the United Kingdom from the risk that, in time of European war, some of the important grain marts of the world may be closed to her.

In case of war, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to victual Gibraltar, as Spain would undoubtedly stop all supplies from entering the fortress from the mainland. No such contingency, on the other hand, could threaten our hold on Ceuta, where plentiful supplies would be available from the mainland both for the use of the garrison and for provisioning the fleet. At Ceuta British ships would find a harbour of refuge in a friendly and neutral country, without being exposed, as they might well be at Gibraltar, to the guns of the enemy on the Spanish coast, and could pass the Straits in safety without approaching within range of a Spanish fortress.

That there would be many and great difficulties in the way of such an exchange was foreseen by Sir John. Not the least of these is the immense expenditure on the fortification of the Rock. This, however, he thought might be met by Spain undertaking to make the necessary alterations and repairs at Ceuta, and, pending the completion of these works, agreeing to allow Great Britain the use of Gibraltar for her ships as heretofore in time of peace or war.

The harbour of Ceuta, in its present state, does not offer the same advantages as that of Gibraltar; but Sir John believed that it was capable of such improvements as would render it thoroughly efficient. Though great expense would be incurred by Great Britain, he thought that the stability which such an exchange would give to the maintenance of the peace of Europe was deserving of consideration.

Finally, it may be remembered that Lord Nelson used to say our naval success in the South of Europe would depend on the friendship of Morocco, or on our obtaining possession of Tangier. He foresaw that any great Power established on a sure footing on the North African coast would practically command the passage of the Straits for seventy miles.

Such were some of the reasons which weighed most strongly with Sir John. His long residence in Morocco, and his genuine interest in its prosperity, led him to advocate the exchange, not merely for the advantage of Great Britain, but also for the benefit of the Moors. He saw in the occupation of Ceuta a means of promoting the welfare of the Sultan’s subjects, and a powerful instrument for pressing upon the Government the reforms for which he so constantly pleaded. In 1865 Sultan Sid Mohammed had introduced certain changes; but these attempts at improvement were too timid to produce any real result.

Three years later (1868), Sir John visited the Sultan’s Court at Fas, and he took every opportunity, afforded by frequent private audiences, of again urging upon his Majesty the necessity of sweeping changes in the judicial, financial, and administrative system of the country.

In a letter written to Sir Henry Layard he speaks of the outspoken advice which he was in the habit of offering to the Sultan, and attributes to his frankness the influence which he enjoyed at the Moorish Court.

This Government is the most _miserable_ in the world, and with the exception of the Sultan himself, who is an honest man without energy, Aji, and one or two others, they are a corrupt and venal set. As long, however, as I am accredited to such a Government, I have thought it my duty to keep on the best terms with all. . . .

Not only my Spanish colleagues, but I may say all in their turn, attribute the good favour in which I am held by the Sultan and his myrmidons to my giving secret counsels in opposition to the demands of Representatives of other Foreign Governments, and thus currying favour. They cannot and will not understand that I have managed to maintain a certain ascendency over the mind of the Sultan, in questions with other Foreign Powers, from the very fact of my never having hesitated in speaking my mind and recommending the most unpalatable concessions. The late Sultan, as also the present, found that when they had not accepted my disinterested advice, troubles ensued and they paid dearly. I therefore still hold my ground at the Court, though Morocco has found itself on more than one occasion, as in the last Spanish war, abandoned by England.

The reception of the Mission on arrival at Fas was most cordial, and the usual great show of troops and powder-play was made. A very beautiful house, splendidly furnished, with a small garden attached, was assigned to the Minister and his suite; and the first repast was placed on the table in the dining-room as Sir John entered the house. It consisted of an immense bowl of milk, and a huge dish of dates, which had been sent direct from the Sultan’s palace, with a message to the effect that it was a token of welcome always offered to Moorish princes—and to them only—on their arrival in a Royal city. A curious form of hospitality, evidently a survival from the custom which prevailed among the Arabs in olden time.

This was the first occasion on which ladies had joined any Mission to the Sultan’s Court; Mrs. Drummond Hay accompanied her husband, then Sir John’s secretary, the elder Miss Hay being also of the party. As Christian women had hitherto never entered Fas—except as captives, in the days of the Barbary pirates—the population was both excited and amused by their apparition, as they walked through the bazaars and streets of the town, or rode in the environs with the gentlemen of the party. It was necessary for them always to be accompanied by an escort of native soldiers, to keep off the crowds that thronged in the streets to gaze at the strangers; but no rudeness or unpleasantness of any kind was ever met with. When riding in the pretty country about Fas, this mounted escort—consisting generally of six troopers—found that they could not keep pace with the Europeans, and were replaced by half a dozen Berber horsemen. These small wiry mountaineers, riding active ponies, were prepared to dash along at any pace over the roughest ground.

The Moorish Ministers, some of whom had visited European courts, invited the presence of the ladies at all the banquets and receptions offered to the Mission; admitting them also to the harems, where they were well received by the Fas ladies, wives of the principal Ministers. These ladies differ in some degree from their countrywomen in other towns. Amongst persons of high rank, a certain amount of social intercourse takes place, and men and women meet as in Europe. But these gatherings are conducted in strict secrecy, for fear of rousing scandal. The ladies of Fas, therefore, are more enlightened and pleasant than their sisters elsewhere. Many of them are well educated, according to Moorish lights, and materially assist their husbands or fathers in official or literary work.

The public audience of the Sultan took place, according to custom, three days after the arrival of the Mission. The English ladies were especially invited to be present. The ceremony was the same as that described in Sir John’s letter to his mother in 1861—with the exception that the ladies were placed, in charge of several officers, under an arch near where the ‘Bashador’ stood with his staff. From this point they had a good view of the ceremony; but they were not a little amused at the veiled anxiety shown by their guardians—not that they should see, but rather be seen of, the Sultan. H.S.M., on his part, made a graceful allusion to their presence at the end of his formal speech to Sir John, saying, ‘It has given us great pleasure to observe that you have brought with you some members of your family: this is a fresh proof of your confidence in us and in our people. They are very welcome.’

In speaking thus, the Sultan made the closest approach which Moorish etiquette allowed towards referring to the ladies of the party. In Morocco, the females of a man’s household are never directly mentioned, but are spoken of collectively, as ‘the family,’ or, more commonly, ‘the house’; and, in this form, are most punctiliously inquired after by Moors, when exchanging salutations with their friends or acquaintances. Though, according to Western ideas, this custom appears to imply contempt of the weaker sex, it originates rather from the fact that the Moors reject, as an impertinence, any direct reference to the women whom they so carefully seclude.

Almost immediately after the public audience, Sir John fell ill with dysentery—brought on, the doctor believed, by drinking the water of the Sebu river during the journey, and aggravated by the chill and damp of Fas, which, lying high, and plentifully watered by the river that traverses the city, was cold and not a healthy residence in December. After more than a month’s stay, he was fortunately sufficiently recovered to undertake the return journey.

During his stay in Fas, Sir John had several absolutely private audiences with the Sultan, at which he reiterated all his former arguments and suggestions. He pointed out that countries smaller than Morocco—and with perhaps fewer resources—yet commanded greater revenues, though their peoples were not over-taxed. In such countries the security of property encouraged the natives in industrial enterprises. No dread of confiscation prevented the accumulation of wealth; and the justice and integrity of the administrative and judicial system made the inhabitants happy, prosperous, and contented.

In the Sultan’s dominions it was, as Sir John urged, the want of similar security which impoverished the people and emptied the exchequer. It was the tyranny and venality of officials that drove many of his subjects to redress their own wrongs by robbery, raids, and rebellion, and impelled others to shelter themselves from exactions and mis-government by becoming partners with European traders—who, by treaty stipulations, enjoyed immunity from taxation—and, under their protection, to rob the Sultan’s treasury by evading the payment of exorbitant and irregularly enforced taxes.

[Illustration: RECEPTION BY SULTAN SID MOHAMMED]

The system of the payment of Custom House officers, inaugurated in 1860, was dwelt on by Sir John in support of his argument. He suggested that adequate salaries should be paid to all Government officials, who would thus be deprived of excuse for peculation, and, if they proved dishonest or extortionate, might be punished without mercy. He recommended a great reduction of the army, and, in order to check false returns, urged that proper lists of the troops still enrolled should be carefully drawn up. He proposed that authorised tax-gatherers should be appointed and the whole population equally taxed without exemption of Sherífs or of Government officials; that the payment of taxes should be strictly enforced; that tax-gatherers should only hold office for a year, so that the incoming official might act as a check on the proceedings of his predecessor; that the supervisors of markets should be required to deposit a certain sum as security before taking office, this sum to be forfeited if they were convicted of malpractices. He also recommended the entire abolition of the system of presents, and urged that all officials, from the Sultan downwards, should be strictly forbidden to accept gifts.

If these reforms were introduced, Sir John assured the Sultan, peace and prosperity would soon reign in Morocco, and his empire would rise in the scale of nations.

It was not till the middle of December that Sir John left Fas on his homeward journey. The last camp before reaching Tangier should have been by the side of the river Mishra el Hashef. In summer this is a mere stream; in winter, when Sir John arrived at its bank, it was swollen into a deep and turbulent torrent. The previous week some Moorish soldiers had attempted to cross, and several of them were carried away and drowned in the flood; but the Arabs, who live near the banks, declared that, by waiting, the party might risk a detention of several days; though, on the other hand, the flood might decrease in a few hours. At present they believed it could be swum in safety. Sir John, always impatient of delay, and anxious moreover to catch the mail from Tangier next morning, decided on starting, and plunged into the river on his horse. Two powerful Arab swimmers accompanied him, swimming in an upright position just down stream of the rider. Horse and men were carried by the current some distance down, to a difficult landing place on the muddy banks. Here they reached the opposite side in safety, though the water had washed over the saddle. Miss Hay followed in the same manner and, with her father, galloped off towards Tangier. Four hours’ hard riding saw them under their own roof.

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