CHAPTER XVIII

PLOTTING FOR PEACE

“Towards the end of 1915,” announced Raisuli, fingering a Spanish map, “Silvestre occupied a line through Questa Colorada, Kesiba, Mulai Bu Salam and Tarkutz, to Al Kasr.” He pointed out the places with an unerring finger. “I think that the last big battle was fought near Megaret. Silvestre was anxious to push forward into the mountains, for he knew he had little time before peace would be signed. On that occasion I was fighting with my people, and we were hard-pressed. I rode on to a little rise, from where I commanded the enemy, and I sat there firing steadily till they noticed me. There was a shout of ‘The Sherif is here!’ My people raised their war-cry, but the Spaniards were determined to capture me. A party crept forward to surround my hillock, and, as I turned to find another post of vantage, my horse was shot under me. He fell like a stone, and I could hear the shouting of the enemy. A tribesman offered his horse, but, as I mounted, the servant holding my stirrup was killed, and the stallion, terrified, reared up before I was in the saddle. My slippers fell off as I struggled with him, and then, suddenly, all round us were foreigners, and I shouted, ‘Salli en Nebbi, Rasul Ullah!’[65] and we charged them. Allah alone knows why we did not fall headlong as we crashed down the hill, but we went through them and away before the main body came up.”

“That is one of the occasions on which the Sherif was invisible,” added the Kaid gravely, “but his shoes were found by a rebel, who brought them to the Spaniards. It is said that Dris er Riffi, when he recognised them because of their size, bent and kissed them, though they were muddy and covered with the blood of the servant.” I suppose I looked surprised, for Raisuli explained, “In the most treacherous heart there must be some shame. The cloth which had covered my saddle, and which was very beautifully embroidered, was sent to Spain to the King. I was glad of this, for I have much admiration for him. He is a strong man, and, if we two could meet, there would be no difficulties between us. When I was in Tangier, Zugasti almost persuaded me to go to Madrid to see him, but my friends were afraid and, when the boat was in the harbour, they prevailed on me. If I had gone, perhaps there would have been no war. Recently I have written three times to the King to arrange a treaty that shall be permanent.

“After the affair near Megaret, I had to go back quickly to the high mountains, for I heard that Beni Ahmas and the Guezauia were fighting among themselves, and who knows how the feud would have ended? In our country a battle may begin with ten men and end with 500. In the morning a few men fight because there is blood between their houses. Shots are heard by their neighbours, and each man seizes his rifle and rushes to join one side or the other. After all, man is born for war, and woman for his relaxation and comfort. When a tribesman has nothing to do, he will always fight if there is a chance of loot. So by noon the encounter has swelled, and after that, perhaps, the Kaid comes along with his followers, to see what is happening; but his finger itches on the trigger, and he soon joins the party which is nearest to him. By sunset there is a great battle, and nobody knows for what reason. So it was with the Ahmas and Gezuia.

“I sent news ahead that I was coming, but I found them still fighting, so I left my men at a distance and I rode between them on my big horse. They saw me coming down the Wadi alone, and they were surprised. There were still some who fired, and the bullets went over me and round me, but they did not touch me, and the sound of the rifles died away quietly. After that I made peace between the two parties and swore them to keep it, for it was a small matter that had begun the feud—a few goats which had gone astray, and, believing they were stolen, their owner had burned a farm for vengeance. For this thirty men had died in battle and many been wounded.

“When I returned to Tazrut, I had learned the extent of the famine which was oppressing the country, for some of the tribesmen were like shadows, so thin that their clothes would hold two of them. I saw dead children and women who had no milk for their babes. The hunger was terrible, for there was no harvest of any kind, and the people ate fungus and insects.

“Abd ul Melek wrote to me, saying, ‘If you make terms with Germany, you will have money enough to feed the whole people, for the Germans are very generous. It is certain that they are going to win the war, and they will make you Kalipha over all Morocco, as far south as Mogador.’ I remembered that the German Minister had promised me grain, but, so far, he had sent only rifles. I spoke to my nephews, Mulai Ali and Mulai Mustapha, who were with me in Tazrut, and it was decided to communicate with the Germans, but to make no agreement with them.

“I wrote also to the tribesmen, encouraging them and assuring them that Allah would give victory to the Faithful, reminding them that those who die fighting the infidel live for ever in the highest paradise.

“At the same time, Marina sent Zugasti and Cerdeira, who is called by the Arabs ‘Abderrahman, the nephew of Raisuli,’ to see me. I said to them, ‘There will be no peace while Silvestre is in Morocco,’ and I told them the terms I desired, of which the most important was that the mountains should be left to the Arabs and not be entered without my permission. ‘Take all the towns,’ I said, ‘and when there is agreement between us, I will help you to occupy them, but leave me to keep peace in the mountains, and I will be responsible to you for their security.’

“Even while we were talking, Silvestre was occupying Sahel Haman, and his captain, Rueda, by means of the police, who were always my enemies since I stopped their depredations, was spreading propaganda against me in Jebel Habib. Rueda himself visited Sheikh Tazi and much of their conversation was reported to me. Sidi Abselam Tazi feared for his farms, and preferred the sound of threshing to the music of rifles, but he feared me more, so he tried, by vague promises, to make friends with the Spaniard. He alleged that he had rendered many services to Spain, but he asked, ‘What are your intentions towards the Sherif? It is said that you will make him Kalipha of all the country, and will pay all his armies for him. He has the Germans with him already, and they say there are many French deserters in his camp.’ So my propaganda was, after all, better than Rueda’s! Tazi wished to detach from me Ayashi Zellal, who had the whole of Beni Mesauer behind him, for he knew, if that tribe and Wadi Ras went against me, I should be cut off from Tangier, where Menebbhe[66] was my friend and served as my eyes and my ears. Now Zellal has always been my ally, and his word is the best thing in this country, so that he would not listen to Tazi, but I think some of Sidi Abselam’s men were with Silvestre when he took Rogaia on the road to Tangier. This was in the winter (Nov. 1915), and, from this post, it is a very little way to Zinat. If your eyes are good, you can see the windows of the houses and the hedges which surround them.

“I realised that, at last, peace was necessary, and I sent my secretary, Sidi Ali Alkali, to Tangier to speak of these matters to my friends. Already Silvestre saw himself in the eagle’s eyrie, but Marina opposed his march to Zinat. Then Dris er Riffi made his last effort against me. The Kaid and Badr ed Din both saw it. They will tell you, for, by Allah, I remember only noise!”

“We were both very frightened,” began the secretary, “for we thought the Sherif had been killed. Some strangers had come amongst us, saying that the Spaniards had driven them out of their village, and we talked to them and offered them hospitality, but they did not see the Sherif. He was with Mulai Sadiq in a small house, and we had been ordered not to disturb their conversation. Suddenly, as we sat under some trees at a little distance, there was a great roar, and the house fell to pieces in front of us. It was as if the earth was sick and vomited destruction. We ran forward, shrieking, for no man could live after the explosion, and dragged away the roof, which had fallen in a heap with the walls. All was destroyed except two beams, which, propped one against the other, made a tent among the rubbish. Under this sat the Sherif and Mulai Sadiq, talking quietly as if nothing had happened. Ullah! I have never been so frightened in all my life!

“When the villagers heard what had happened they crowded to kiss the robes of the Sherif and the earth where he sat, and each one cut a fragment from the beams, using it as an amulet. Certainly their protection was assured!”

Raisuli made a gesture of distaste. “There was much treachery in those days, but the worst has not yet been told you. I was now anxious to prepare the way for peace, and, being afraid that the Spaniards would begin to treat separately with the different tribes, I called a great meeting in Jebel Habib, in order to assure a unity of front against the foreigners. Representatives came from the Guezauia, Sumata, Beni Aros, Beni Mesauer, Beni Issef, Ahl Serif and Kholot, Jebel Habib, and I spoke to them of the famine that decimated their villages, and of the necessity of giving way a little, in order to obtain much. Some of the Sheikhs asked me, ‘What of the Germans?’ I answered, ‘The war in Europe is not yet won, and it seems to me that the Germans will not help us unless we agree to raid the French borders. Consider, is this the cheapest way of feeding your families?’ and they were silent, for all knew the strength of France. I continued my speech, saying, ‘It may be well to hand over the towns, where the Spaniards will build hospitals and schools, in order to save the mountains, which have no need of these things.’

“One answered, ‘The Spaniards will not leave us alone—they wish to Christianise all the Arabs.’ But I argued with them and said, ‘They can do nothing against us if we are united. It is a shameful thing that Moslems should quarrel among themselves when the foreigners are at our doors. From this day let it be known that each Moslem who disputes with his fellow is firing a shot for the Christians.’ Then it was agreed that a proclamation should be sent to all the villages and cried aloud in the Suqs, saying that Raisuli pardoned all who had fought against him, on condition that they would now join him. Each village was asked to supply five armed men, who would be paid 1 peseta 50 a day, and the Kaids were invited to come to Jebel Habib for the feast of Mailud, in order to settle the form of the new government.[67]

“The meeting took place in the open, for there was no house large enough to hold us, and sentries were posted that we should not be disturbed. It was very cold, and each man had his jellaba muffled over his face, so that only his eyes could be seen. It was a strange council, for our seats were the rocks and the tea cooled before it reached our lips. There were men present from the Tuagena, Bu Maisa, Beni Mesare, Ulad Ali, Erhama, Guezauia, Beni Zecar, Beni Serual, Ahl Serif, Beni Aros, Beni Mesauer, Ben Ider, Jebel Habib, Beni Said, and the Riffs of Gomara, Beni Hasan and Sumata. Each man held his rifle across his knees and, one by one, with his finger on the trigger, swore the oath of allegiance, ‘I will be with thee in the name of Allah and our religion until the day of my death.’ Then we stood up and said the Fatha together, with our hands raised to heaven, and the Wakils of the new Government were appointed, one who was treasurer, one for the feeding of the people, one for propaganda among the villages; but the direction of war I kept in my own hands, for I thought I saw its ending.

“Of the great tribes, only Anjera sent no delegate to this meeting, and they had 6,000 rifles behind them. They have never been loyal to me, for they are near the coast and much in contact with foreigners.” The Sherif made a gesture of counting money. “It is like that with them. Gold is pleasanter in the sight of their youths than the first bride when she opens her haik. Many times Spain thought she had the whole of Anjera with her, but her money was taken by small men who had no influence. They promised great things, but they had no power to carry them out.

“The best weapon of my enemies was certainly Dris er Riffi, for he was known to have been my servant, and, when he visited the tribes to make propaganda against me, the Kaids would say to him, ‘You were once in the house of Raisuli. How is it that you fight against him?’ and er Riffi would answer, ‘I grew tired of his cruelties and extortions, as you would have done. Let your hearts speak freely, for the Spaniards are generous and help all who come to them.’ Often the Kaid would protest, ‘Germany is stronger than Spain, and it is said that she is with the Sherif. What is the news from Europe? Are the Turks winning?’ Dris er Riffi had his answer ready. ‘This I tell you between your ear and my mouth, for you are worthy of confidence. The war in this country is only a pretence, though it costs you so many lives. Haven’t you observed how Marina stays his armies? How every week he writes to the Sherif? Raisuli is deceiving you. At this moment he receives 20,000 douros from Spain, and is meditating how he can hand you all over to the foreigners.’ ‘Ullah if that is the case,’ would exclaim the indignant Sheikh, ‘I would rather make peace with them on my own!’ ‘It is well said. I will arrange an opportunity,’ asseverated er Riffi.

“The native police officers were also very active against me, so I forbade the loyal mountaineers to have any communications with them, and, out of this, sprang the incident of Beni Aros. A policeman arrived late one night at a village where lived some of his kinsmen. He rested and ate at their farm, and they saw him on his way in safety, but before he was outside the limits of the village, he was shot by one who was most zealous in obeying my orders. The flash betrayed the sniper’s hiding place, and he was set upon by the friends of the policeman, who burned his house, while his women took refuge on the hillside, making the night noisy with their cries. When I heard of the affair, I sent a party to enquire into it, but, by this time, there was war in Beni Aros, some upholding my authority, others protecting the family whose guest had been shot before the taste of their meat was out of his mouth. My men were ambushed as they approached the village, and there was fierce fighting. Two were killed, and three taken prisoners, but the latter were well treated, for it was known that my hand would be heavy on the village. Next day, reinforced by many loyalists, my people returned to the attack, but none fired on them till they reached the Suq. Then shots came from the windows and the roofs, and a Kaid was killed. There might have been a great battle after this, but one of my men, who was skilled in speech, picked up a spent bullet and, in the midst of the fighting, called out to the villagers, ‘Who wasted this cartridge? By Allah, he has saved a Christian life!’

“The men stopped fighting to listen to him, and he got up on a high place and addressed them. ‘Each bullet that we have spent should have accounted for the life of a foreigner! This is how the Christians conquer us, for we spend ourselves in quarrels which have no purpose, while the enemy takes our country.’ His eloquence was so great that all men put away their rifles and the women stole down from the hillside to wash the dead. The same night he led the chief among them to Jebel Alan and made them climb to the sanctuary which is on its highest point. Throughout the centuries Sidi Abd es Salaam had heard many vows. The Beni Aros swore that no man’s rifle should be turned against his neighbours, until the Christians had been driven out of the country, and he who broke his oath was to forfeit his possessions to the village.

“By this time I had made two journeys to meet Zugasti, who always urged me to make peace, but I insisted in my demands—‘The mountains for the Arab,’—and Marina hesitated. Almost Zugasti persuaded me, for he was honest and he told me of the opinion in the towns, where there was no trade, and in the Western plain, where the farmers were ruined and eating the mules which should have threshed their corn. Zugasti had an English mother, and sometimes, when people pressed him to some action which was unpleasing to him, he would say, ‘Leave me alone. Don’t make a fuss. At these times I remember I am half English!’ Certainly it was impossible to embarrass him, for, like Zellal, he spoke nothing but the truth. His words made me think, and I sent for el Mudden and told him to bring me news from the coast.

“He went down to Larache with his men. Hiding their rifles in a suitable place, they dressed themselves in ragged shirts, took sticks in their hands and waited till the herdsmen slept in the heat of noon. Then they stole 80 cows from their pasture outside the walls, and the animals belonged to the Maghsen. They took also some beasts which were the property of a sergeant and, in order to confuse the wits of the pursuers, they broke up the herd which remained, and drove them in all directions, two here and three there. When the herdsmen awoke, they were obliged to chase their cattle from the sea-shore to the hills, and it was a long time before they discovered how many were lost. El Mudden brought most of the cattle to Jebel Habib, and, for a little while, the tribesmen grew fat on their flesh, but the ‘wild one’ brought me no news. So I decided to capture a merchant, a portly man of a certain age, who would know all that was happening in the towns and who would be able to pay well for my hospitality. Such a one was Abselam Bulifa, a protégé of Spain, and his piety was unfortunately his downfall, for he went in the evening to say his prayers at a sanctuary outside the town, and he never came back. In spite of his years, his struggles were so violent that my men had to tie him up and put him in a sack. In this way he looked like a calf kicking, for he did not cease to protest till he was brought into my presence.

[Illustration: Tazrut—Tomb on left, where Raisuli’s ancestors are buried]

[Illustration: Mosque at Tazrut]

“I said to him, ‘Salaam aleikum, O Sheikh, but it is not right that one of your honour should oppose the will of Allah. I had meant to ask 3,000 douros for your entertainment, but perhaps your spirit will be less rebellious if I double the sum.’ He said, ‘The Sherif is joking. I have not so much money, not even if I sell all my possessions.’ Upon which I answered, ‘The money is of little account. Pay it as you like, but show not so much avarice in your speech.’ At first he was evasive, and would tell me nothing, but the food at Tazrut was poor at the time and, when his face began to shrink, there was more room for his tongue. I learned from him that the disagreement between Silvestre and Marina was at its height, and that it was whispered the Colonel would disobey orders and occupy Zinat. ‘If he does that,’ said el Bulifa, ‘the Anjera tribe will join him—for a long time they have wanted to see your house in flames—and the whole army will advance to Ain Yerida. It will then be too late for Marina to interfere.’

“I thought a great deal over this news, and I sent a message hastily to Zugasti, saying, ‘My mind was inclined to make peace with you, but now I hear that Silvestre is preparing such and such things. If this is the case, how can I control the tribes and persuade them to treat with you?’ I ordered the messengers not to pause even to drink water at a stream, and to deliver the letter into Zugasti’s own hands. Then I sent for Ali Alkali, who was still in Tangier, saying to him, ‘Come quickly, for I have decided to sign the peace, and you must go to Tetuan on my behalf.’

“I spoke to you of treachery. Listen now how it happened. Sidi Ali was known everywhere as my agent, and he had a pass, signed by Marina, permitting him to go to and fro through the lines as he would. He was not a fighter and carried arms only to protect himself against robbers. It was the same thing with Zugasti and Cerdeira. They had papers, bearing my signature, and they could go through the country as they chose. I sent escorts with them when they desired it, and no man raised his rifle against them. As soon as Alkali received my letter, he started from Tangier with his servant Hamed.[68] He arrived at Questa Colorada towards evening and was well received by the commandant, who exchanged news with him and begged him not to go till morning, as it was the hour when the Spanish police were withdrawn from the roads, and it was no longer safe for travellers. Sidi Ali insisted that he must be in Tazrut before morning, so the commandant rode a little way with him, as he himself was going to Larache, but, at the next post, the officer was less amiable.

“In spite of the passport, which he declared to be a forgery, the captain detained the travellers, and for two days they were in prison, unable to communicate with me. When the commandant of Questa Colorada heard this, he was very angry and ordered the immediate release of my agent. More than this, he went to meet Sidi Ali on the road, apologised for the mistake and offered him an escort. Alkali replied that much time had been wasted, and that he must ride faster than the horses of the escort would permit. It was then nearly sunset;[69] and the next thing that was heard of the travellers was that their horses had been seen in Zerska, but that Alkali had returned to Tangier. This I did not believe, and I sent my own men to enquire secretly what had happened. Zellal also sent men from Beni Mesauer, but, for three days, there was no news. Then a fisherman on the banks of Sidi Hakhes announced that he had seen the body of a man floating near the estuary. The commandant of Questa Colorada sent his people to search in the river, but my spies were also there, and everything was reported to me.

“At first only a mutilated trunk was found, which nobody could recognise, for all but the drawers had been stripped from it. Then, when they dragged the bottom of the wadi, they brought up a sack made of a haik and filled with stones. In it was a body, headless and wearing a shirt which was supposed to be that of the servant Hamed. The corpses, which had been cut and disfigured to prevent recognition, were taken to Sidi Hamed and handed over to the family of Alkali, but the heads were not found. I sent privately, offering many douros for the head of my friend, for this would have brought comfort to his house, but it was useless.

“Many stories were told about the death of Sidi Ali—may Allah give him peace, which is his right, since he was murdered by Christians. They said that men of Beni Mesauer and Wadi Ras had lain in wait for him, believing that he carried letters from the Spanish Government which would force peace upon them. It was also said that a woman had caused him to be killed, because he had taken her husband and sent him as a prisoner to Tazrut; but these were empty words. Zellal held Beni Mesauer in his hands, and, as for the woman, it was a lie invented by the police to save themselves. Other rumours came to me that the assassination was arranged by the French, who had no wish for peace between Spain and el Raisuli.

“At last men whispered that Silvestre had investigated the murder, in order to make a breach which even Zugasti could not span. This story was generally believed, for it was known that the Colonel would do anything to prevent an agreement being signed at the moment when his success seemed to be assured. For a while I, too, wondered if this were possible, but I have known Silvestre, and he was brave. When his blood was hot, he might have attacked with his sword or with his bare hands, but he was incapable of planning a murder for others to commit.

“It was not long before the truth was revealed . . . Sidi Ali and his servant had ridden swiftly till they came within sight of a Spanish post. Then, the place being suitable, for there was no fear of robbers, they dismounted for the evening prayers. The officer of the post, who was called Sota, saw them and sent messengers asking them to come in and drink tea with him, for he had been warned of their coming by Rueda. Allah alone knows why my friend accepted!—perhaps to rest his horse, perhaps to get information about the country. In any case, he entered the house and drank with his host, who begged him to stay the night, saying the country was not safe. Alkali refused, but Sota would not let him go without an escort. He said that he was responsible for the safety of travellers, and he kept his guest talking till it was very late. Then he came to the door and saw him mount. A dozen policemen were waiting, and they ranged their horses round Sidi Ali and his servant. ‘You will doubtless go quickly,’ said Sota, ‘but I myself will follow you for a little way, as I am anxious about your security. Do not wait for me.’ And he wished him ‘Ma salaama’ (With safety)!

“My friend had ridden only a little way when he noticed the demeanour of the police, who kept looking back as if they expected some signal. Alkali asked what was the matter, but the answers were evasive. At last, when the road was deserted, a shot was heard from a distance, and the police flung themselves off their horses and seized the bridles of the men they were supposed to protect. ‘We are going to be attacked! We must hide!’ they cried, and pulled Sidi Ali and Hamed from their saddles, in spite of their protests. Two stayed to hold the horses. The others dropped all pretence and, hitting their prisoners on the heads and shoulders to stop their cries, they dragged them a little way from the road and strangled them.

“By this time the Lieutenant Sota had come up and ordered the heads to be cut off and the bodies mutilated, for fear of recognition. This was done, and the remnants tied up in native garments, which had been brought specially so that the blame would fall on Arabs. When the police rode back, they carried with them strange bundles tied to their saddles, and these were taken to the river and sunk in it with stones. One man was sent on with the horses, and he loosed them far away, leaving their saddles and bridles, which was a mistake, for by these they were recognised. So the story was told to me by one who had known the truth for some time, and I believe it is exact.”

The official version of the tragedy was sent by wire from Commandant Orgaz of Questa Colorada to General Marina, who had been telegraphing daily to insist on a thorough investigation. The message ran thus: “The death of Ali Alkali was effected by the Moors, Benbihas, El Metagui and Koroan, in the presence of Lieutenant Sota y Morales, ordered by Capt. Rueda, and the assassination was inspired by the Pasha of Azeila.”

General Marina lost no time in ordering the arrest of the accused Spanish officers and the suspension of Dris er Riffi, but he saw in this murder the ruin of all his hopes for a peaceful settlement. Though he made no secret of his intention of punishing his fellow-countrymen with the utmost severity of the law, he felt that Raisuli would neither forgive the outrage nor place any further confidence in the word of Spain. He set out immediately for Questa Colorada, and requested Silvestre to join him there. The meeting must have been dramatic. “We have failed!” exclaimed the High Commissioner, ignoring the other’s greeting. “I do not consider I have failed,” retorted Silvestre. “I have always stuck to the same policy.” But General Marina would not be comforted. Overwhelmed by the treachery for which he held himself responsible, since he represented Spain, he insisted on his colleague’s resignation, and sent in his own at the same time.

Dris er Riffi and the two Spanish officers were imprisoned, the Moors were executed, and, as Raisuli said, “There was but one lion left in the forest.”