CHAPTER VIII
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VISIT TO SALLI AND DEPARTURE FOR MARÁKESH. 1846.
Mr. Hay’s firmness produced an effect on his surly hosts. On March 18 a letter arrived from the Sultan, which completely changed their attitude towards him. His Diary thus continues:—
_March 18._ Young Ben Abu has just announced the arrival of a courier from the Court. A cavalry soldier was the bearer of my letter, and had accomplished the three days’ journey in twenty-four hours, having been ordered by the Sultan to travel until his horse dropped and then to continue on foot.
The letter from the Court is most satisfactory. The _amende honorable_ is made; the authorities here are reprimanded. Already have I received messages from the Governor, crying ‘peccavi!’ The palace of the Sultan here is being prepared for me, and a most plentiful ‘mona’ has been brought.
The Sultan’s orders are that tenfold honours are to be paid to the British Envoy.
As soon as Ben Dris receives my answer, I am to proceed to the Court escorted by the Governor of each successive district until I reach the Sultan.
I have told the authorities here that I have forgotten all; and like good friends or lovers, a little quarrel is going to make us better friends than ever. With Moors, and indeed most Orientals, you must be kind, but very firm, or the end would be great guns.
_March 20._ Our house is charming; a jewel of Moorish architecture. It is quite new, and the workmanship is almost as good as that which is seen in the Alhambra. The walls are highly ornamented in gypsum, and very tastefully painted. The pavement is mosaic, and a fountain stands in the midst, from which a jet of clear water plays; the ceiling is carved and decorated, and intricate and mystical figures adorn the walls. The huge folding doors and small windows are all in the same style; in fact, the whole is perfection. On the walls are written many verses of the Koran, and among other expressions which I could decipher in the flowery writing, were ‘God is the true wealth,’ and ‘Health is alone with the Everlasting;’ or, as we should say, ‘Lay up your riches in heaven.’ Adjoining our rooms are all sorts of intricate passages with small apartments, fountains, baths, &c., and, quite separate, are quarters for the cook and other servants. Then there is a pretty garden, run to weeds, with a charming alcove of tastefully-turned woodwork, from which may be seen, on the other side of the narrow street, the ornamented mausoleum of a saint, shaded by a lofty palm-tree. Upon this house of the dead sit a couple of storks, pluming themselves, billing and cackling the live-long day; they are wild, but all their race in this country are fearless of man, and on the house they choose for their nest, ‘no evil befalleth.’
‘Meteor’ has saluted; Salli and Rabát have replied. I walked to the castle to witness the firing of the Moors; an immense crowd followed, and although I was alone, except for one black soldier, not a whisper or a curse was heard. Smiles and kind words were the order of the day, and a murmur ran through the crowd that the English are the Moslem’s best friends and are honoured by the Sultan.
Accompanied by Kaid Ben Abu (‘the Father of the Mountain’ is ill) and a troop of cavalry, we rode towards Shella, passing through the old part of the town of Rabát, of which the walls are still in good preservation, and appear to have been formed of red tápia[11]. The Governor informed me that tradition says they were built without any foundation, and that thirty thousand Christian prisoners, whom he said were from ‘Irak’ (I don’t know how this is to be explained, except that they were Persians), worked at the walls, and that many thousands of the bodies of those that died, or happened to be punished with death, are embedded in the tápia.
We passed the gate called Bab-el-Haddad or the Smithy Gate. The ancient town of Shella lies within a few yards of the old walls of Rabát, and is built on one side of a conical hill.
The walls have a very ancient appearance, and the architecture looks Saracenic.
Neither Christians nor Jews are allowed to enter Shella; though Mr. Urquhart, who was here the other day, penetrated into the sacred town, and his foolhardy curiosity very near cost him his life; for a Moor with a gun happened to be there and fired at him, as I am informed, but the gun missed fire. Urquhart was stoned by those who had seen him enter, and was obliged to shut himself up in Rabát, and ultimately take his departure. The town is not inhabited and is in ruins. I could perceive the remains of a mosque or chapel. Ben Yáhia, my Arabic secretary, tells me there are many inscriptions but no dates, that one of these mentions the Sultan Assuad[12] as having built a gate. ‘Sultan Assuad’ means the black Sultan.
I had much desire to see the interior of the town, as one has for all things forbidden, but make it a point of duty never unnecessarily to go contrary to the prejudices of the people, however gross they may be. I believe at this moment, if I were to insist upon it, the Governor would let me go anywhere and do anything.
We rode to the river side near the town, passing near some saltpans. The valley had several fine gardens, abounding in orange and pomegranate trees; the former were covered with their golden fruit. Oranges are sometimes sold on the trees at the rate of about a shilling a thousand—_and such oranges!_
_March 23._ Went over in a boat to Salli, as invited by Hadj Kassem, the contractor for supply of bullocks to Gibraltar.
Hadj Kassem met us on the shore and, surrounded by half a dozen of our own troopers and the same number of the Rabát soldiery, we entered Salli, the hot-bed of fanaticism. Here a host of boys began to muster round the party, but Hadj Kassem’s house was at hand, and we took refuge there before the mob molested us. The Hadj was very civil, and took us all over his house, which was furnished in good Moorish style, with carpets of all kinds, looking-glasses, and clocks, which latter generally indulge in indicating any hour they please and never seem to be unanimous as to time after falling into the hands of the ‘Faithful.’ I caught a glimpse of one or two of the Hadj’s ladies: they appeared well-favoured. There was a charming little girl of three or four years old, who was admitted to our society; she sat in all the glory of full dress, on a cushion, looking on with the gravity of a ‘Kadi.’ The Hadj feasted us with Moorish tea of all kinds, and we were threatened with ‘siksu’ and other delicacies, from which, indeed, we had a most narrow escape.
Whilst talking to the Hadj, a great hubbub and shouting were heard in the street, emanating from a mob of boys waiting to attack the Christians as soon as they should appear. Hadj Kassem proposed a retreat by the garden; and this was agreed upon. So out we sallied, with half our soldiers in the front and half in the rear; backed by one of our attendants, a young Sheríf, a very daring and active youth. We had not gone a hundred yards before we were assailed at the corner of one of the cross streets by a host of men and boys, who pelted us with brickbats and stones of all sizes. Don José received a blow on the shoulder. The Sheríf and some of our soldiers charged the mob, one of whom was knocked down by a stone hurled by the Sheríf.
On we went at a rapid pace, and after us came a shower of stones. Dr. Simpson received a blow on the head, and a Portuguese skipper, who happened to have followed our party, ditto. Again and again was the mob driven back by the Sheríf and our soldiers; but, urged on by many a grey-headed fanatic, they rallied and pursued us. At the town gate we found some rascals had got to the top of the walls, intending to hurl down rocks upon our devoted heads. We dislodged the enemy, however, with brickbats, from their stronghold and then rushed into the open, making for the Hadj’s garden. A madman, a dancing fanatic, had joined the mob and was yet urging on the pursuit of us, whistling, jumping and twirling, in the most savage style. We got safe into the garden, refreshed ourselves with oranges, and wended our way towards the river.
The mob had again collected in force to oppose us, and a battle of stones (or, as we should say in ‘Auld Reekie,’ a _bicker_), took place. The ‘father of the red cap’ distinguished himself by cracking the pate of one of the enemy—though only to ‘kill him a little,’ as an Irishman would say. We reached the boat, and I sent back one of my soldiers to the Governor of Salli to say that I was extremely surprised to find he had not sent any guard to prevent this uproar, and that, unless some satisfaction was given me, I should report him to the Sultan. I received a reply, brought by the Sheikh of the Jews, a Moorish Kaid, and some others, apologising for what had taken place; the Governor of Salli declaring that he was very unwell and that he had been totally ignorant of my intention to visit Salli that day (this I rather doubt, as the Governor of Rabát tells me he had written to inform him of our intention), that he had put twenty of the offenders in prison, and would not let them out until he had my permission.
I did not receive the Sheikh or the Moorish officer, nor did I accept this apology as sufficient; for the story of the prisoners might or might not be true, and public atonement is what I must require for such a gross outrage. I therefore told my interpreter to tell the messenger that, if the Governor of Salli wished to hear further from me, he must come himself to my house in Rabát; or that, if he were ill, he must send the Lieutenant-Governor and some of the prisoners, and then I should see what was best to be done. The messengers left us, very crest-fallen.
In Salli we saw nothing of interest: narrow streets and high town walls were all that we had seen.
_March 24._ The Governor of Salli, his Khalífa and a Kaid, the Governor of Rabát and Hadj Kassem, came to apologise for yesterday’s outrage, bringing with them ten prisoners. The Governor of Salli looked indeed very ill, as he had declared himself to be. He made many apologies for the misconduct of the people of Salli and for not having come to me himself, or sent some guards. He told me he had taken twenty prisoners, that he had brought ten with him, to be punished as I desired, and then to be taken back to prison to remain there till I pardoned them. After giving him a lecture for not keeping his people in better order, and pointing out the serious consequences that might have attended any misfortune happening to one of our party, I agreed to forget the past and requested him to free the prisoners. The Governor of Salli then begged I would visit his town another day, if I remained here for any time, adding that he would come himself, with his guard, to meet me and would engage that not even a word should be uttered against us.
No doubt yesterday will be long remembered by the people of Salli, who are the worst of fanatics in Morocco. I am told the crews of European vessels, taking in ballast on the shore, are often attacked, with knives and swords, by these demi-savages. I trust what has now passed will show them that Christians can command respect and are not to be insulted with impunity.
I care little for all this, in fact I hate palaver; but look to increase our influence—which perhaps has been somewhat on the wane since French hostilities of last year—and trust I shall succeed by pursuing a very firm, but friendly and just course towards all. Young Ben Abu declares that what has occurred will cause Christians to be better respected by the people, and will make the authorities more on the alert and on their good behaviour towards Englishmen.
_March 25._ The brother of the Governor of Salli came this morning to make professions of good-will. I sent Dr. Simpson with him to Salli, to visit his brother who is ill. Simpson returned well pleased with his reception; not a word, not a look, of insult from the crowd as he passed; all was silence and respect.
On March 28 Mr. Hay left Rabát for Marákesh. In his diary he records the events of the journey, the cordial receptions he met with from the governors of the various provinces through which he passed, and the savage parade which they made in his honour.
The account is too long to be given here in full detail; but a few of the more striking incidents which occurred during his march are found below.
On March 29 he writes:—An Arab, with a small dagger between his teeth and making low bows, presented himself in the middle of the road, saying, ‘I put myself under the hem of your garment.’ I thought the man was mad, and was preparing to meet some act of fanaticism, when Kaid Abd Selam explained the mystery by telling me that this man had killed another in feud, and had been condemned to death, or, if the relatives of the deceased would accept it, to pay blood-money. This they had agreed to do, and the individual, being very poor, was travelling to collect the sum fixed upon (generally about twenty or thirty pounds for a man) before a certain time. I gave the poor wretch a trifle.
We have now entered the district of Shawía, famous for its ladies and horses. The Sultan’s harem is principally supplied from this part of the Empire. I have caught a glimpse of two or three very fine-looking damsels. Their features are very delicate, eyes as black as jet, with eyelashes that hang on the cheek when the eyes are closed. Their figures also are graceful, but the rags they wear would completely spoil their appearance, were it not that they barely conceal their well-turned limbs. The country was better cultivated than any we had yet seen, the barley and wheat already far advanced in the ear and looking splendid. On the uncultivated ground a rich grass, vying in luxuriance with a variety of wild flowers, carpeted our path.
I sigh to think of the word ‘scarcity’ being ever used in this ‘blessed land,’ when such an excellent tract of country is allowed to remain a neglected waste. But this is the result of a system of government which destroys all security in property or life. To cut the throat of the goose that lays the golden eggs is the blind system of the Sultans of Morocco.
On passing a ‘duar’ several Arabs came to meet us, one of them having a sheathed sword in his hand. This he laid across the crupper of the saddle of the principal person of our party. A marriage has taken place to-day, and these people have the custom of collecting ‘mona’ for the bridegroom in this manner.
On April 3 he writes:—There have been two Arab thieves about our tents during the night: one was caught, the other escaped. The rascal was taken before the Khalífa of the Governor of Dukála and has been most severely bastinadoed. My informant reports the following scene.
_Kaid._ ‘Who are you?’
_Culprit._ ‘Mohammed Ben El Amrani.’
_Kaid._ ‘Down with Mohammed and lick him.’ (Six soldiers advanced, four held his hands and feet, whilst two striped him with cords.) After some three dozen, the Kaid says, ‘Who was your companion?’
_Culprit._ ‘Abdallah.’
_Kaid._ ‘Down with him and see if that was his name.’ (Soldiers beat the culprit, who sings out, ‘Selam Hamed Sodik.’)
_Kaid._ ‘Very well. So it was Sodik. Now what were you doing about the tents?’
_Culprit._ ‘Nothing.’
_Kaid._ ‘Down with him.’ Culprit is licked, and sings out, ‘I came to pick up anything that was abandoned.’ (More stripes.)
_Culprit._ ‘I came to rob.’ (The soldiers stop.)
_Kaid._ ‘So you came to rob! Beat him again.’
_Culprit._ ‘I will never commit a theft again.’
_Kaid._ ‘No: that you shall not.’ (After some more stripes, the poor wretch is led off prisoner.)
The approach to Marákesh is thus described:—
_April 7._ Struck our tents an hour before sunrise and continued our journey to the southward, over a vast plain extending to the east and west farther than the eye could see. About eight a.m. we reached the foot of the hills called Jebíla, where there are many wells and a kubba-topped sanctuary. A few tents were pitched in the neighbourhood. The place is called Suánnia.
After taking a hasty breakfast we ascended the Jebíla (meaning in Arabic, small mountains); they are almost barren. Here and there a shrub of the ‘sidder[13]’ and a sweet-smelling acacia is to be seen. At half-past ten, on descending the Jebíla, we came in sight of the Moorish capital, in which stood most prominent the lofty tower of the mosque called Kutubía. In the foreground lay a forest of palms, and in the background the snow-capped gigantic range of the Atlas. Owing to the intense heat of the day a waving atmosphere veiled in great measure the grandeur of the scenery. The soldiers pointed out to me the mountain which my father had ascended as far as the snow on his first mission to the Sultan, when he visited the high-perched village of Mesfíwa. At noon we entered the palm forest; these palm-trees are valuable property and belong to the Sultan and the townspeople. There are no enclosures, but each proprietor knows the trees that belong to him. The trees had begun to put forth their flower, which consists of a white stalk, with a mass of small flowers in a sheath, looking in the distance like a white leaf.
At half-past twelve we reached the river Tensift, a fine clear stream, over which there is a bridge of twenty-five arches, built, I believe, by a Spaniard some years ago. Here we pitched our tents, as we are not to enter Marákesh until the morning.
_April 8._ On crossing the river this morning a body of cavalry of the district of Erhamna met us, with their Kaid and twenty banners, in the midst of a fierce powder-play. After another hundred yards we were met by the Bokhári guard with their Kaid and twenty-five banners, who were succeeded by the troops of Mulai Dris, the native soldiers of the city, with twenty-five banners of all colours, white predominating; lastly, by the immediate followers or body-guard of the Sultan with the green Sherifian flag and other banners. Lab-el-barod, which a Frenchman might translate into ‘La belle parade,’ never ceased along the whole road, some three miles, to Marákesh. The dust was insufferable; the troops kept charging, reining in and firing their guns within a few feet of us. The road was narrow, as a wood of palm-trees flanked us on the right and left, and the rush of cavalry was terrific. Every moment you would have supposed they must have trampled down our party before they could check their horses. Several messengers, the immediate attendants of the Sultan and Uzir, came to welcome me on the part of His Majesty, repeating the word ‘Mahababek,’ you are welcome. I cannot tell what may have been the number of cavalry that met us; but as I am told there are a hundred to each banner, there ought to have been from seven to eight thousand men. It is said that the Sultan ordered every horseman in the city of Marákesh and the camp to meet us. By the wayside I observed a number of people begging, with large straw hats on their heads. The straw hat in the neighbourhood of Marákesh is a sign that the wearer is a leper: there are numbers of these poor wretches; a separate town is given them—called Hara—and they are not allowed to enter the city of Marákesh or communicate with the inhabitants except on a Thursday, on which day they say this horrid disease is not catching, as a great Moorish saint pronounced that on that day leprosy should not be contagious.
After riding some half-mile along the town wall of this great capital, we entered the gate called ‘Bab Hamár.’ At the entrance were the tents of the troops (infantry).
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