CHAPTER XXIII

LEADER OF A HOLY WAR

“One of the first acts of Berenguer,” said the Sherif, “was to release Dris er Riffi from the prison in Tetuan where he had spent the years since Alkali’s death, and to reinstate him as Pasha of Azeila. His next blow was given in the name of Mulai el Mehdi, in the form of a second confiscation of my properties. Notice of this was spread through all the villages—‘Forfeit all that he possesses of goods, in cities, and camps, his horses, his herds, his farms, as well as all things which he has on his lands, and that which is in the hands of his bailiffs. He shall also be despoiled of those goods which he confiscated from the Zawia and the Aukaf.[90] It was a very fine notice, and it must have delighted my enemies, but the only goods that I cared for at that moment were rifles and grain. I knew that there would be another famine in the hills, and I tried to guard against it by storing quantities of millet and barley at Tazrut. Soon I heard that my old enemy Silvestre had been sent back to Morocco. He must have been glad of this chance to defeat me, but I swore that the end of the war should also be his end or mine. Men said to me, ‘It is a sign that no quarter will be given,’ and I answered, ‘He has returned to this country for the last time, nor will he again see his own.’ Silvestre was given a command at Ceuta, and it was my intention to meet him face to face.

“This time the Spaniards had arranged their plan beforehand. They operated with several columns, making themselves masters of a circle of villages and then destroying whatever lay between them.” This plan of dividing the country into triangles and occupying the angles of each in turn was followed with success by the French in their zone. Berenguer, who was an able general, chose Larache, Rogaia and Tzenin as the first triangle; the famous Fondak, Al Kasr and Suq el Arbaa as the second; and Tazrut-Teffer-Xauen as the third.

“In this war,” said Raisuli, “the Spaniards received less help from the tribesmen than the first, for the Arabs remembered the fate of el Tazi and others, whom Jordana had not protected, when he made peace with me. Still, there were some who went against me, notably Haj el Merkadi, who was responsible for my defeat at Ben Karrish. This was the first battle of the war in which I fought myself. The Spaniards pressed us hard, for Ben Karrish is not easy to defend, and their guns forced us to retire to a hill beyond the village. From this height we commanded their advance, and our rifles picked them out, one by one, on the road. Here their guns could do us little harm, for, to kill one man, they expended many shells and blew up much of the hillside. We lay comfortably among the grass and fired at our ease. Suddenly behind us there came a body of men galloping and I thought we had been outflanked, but they rode openly, calling our names and shouting greeting. One said, ‘It is Ueld el Faqih (el Merkadi). He has brought his flag to our aid.’ The horsemen stopped over the brow of the ridge, and I went to meet them with some of my men.

“When we were quite close and the salaams were on our lips, el Merkadi put up his rifle. It was a signal, and every man followed his example. My people died before they had time to lift their arms, but I went forward untouched and some followed me. Ueld el Faqih turned in his saddle and cried, ‘He will not die. We have finished. Let us go!’ My men came over the hill to support us, forgetting the Spaniards below. There was a short fight and some of the traitors were killed, but el Merkadi had chosen a good horse. He escaped, and his treachery was profitable to Spain, for a line of rifles had been pushed forward and the houses of Ben Karrish were in flames.

“I stayed some time on that hill and, through my field-glasses, I watched men struggling with the fires, till there was only a little smoke to tell of the battle. This was the second time the village had been taken from me, but no shot ever touched the mosque. From Ben Karrish we retreated to the Fondak, and there I remained many months. I lived in a hovel where the roof was so low that a tall man could not stand upright, but its beams were made of the telegraph-posts which we had cut. The great do not need great houses, but I regretted that I never saw my family. As soon as I occupied the Fondak, I set about preparing its defences, for I knew that soon there would be aeroplanes and we should not be safe above ground. No preparation is needed in the mountains, for there Allah has provided an abundance of caves, but at Ain Yerida the hills are bare, so my people dug ditches where the riflemen could lie, and holes under the earth where they might hide from the ‘jinn-birds who laid eggs of death.’[91] Ullah, the tribesmen were always frightened of aeroplanes! They thought the machines would sweep down and pick them up by the hairs of the head and drop them from a great height.

“From the Fondak I wrote to Sidi Abdesam ben Thami, who was my friend, and told him of the treachery of el Merkadi, saying to him, ‘It would be a good thing and pleasing to Allah, if you invited this wicked man to have an interview with you, but outside your house, that he may not be your guest. Then you can arrange an ambush for him, or else send men to kill him in his own village.’ I wrote also to my friends in Tangier, asking for more ammunition. El Menebbhe and the son of Alkali who was killed, arranged this matter for me. There was also a farmer in the international zone whose house was at my service, and under his roof many curious changes occurred. Ben Alkali was head of my secret service, and he sent me warning of the movements of my enemies. When the road was clear of ambuscade, he would inform Menebbhe, who would arrange a caravan of mules, laden with goods for Azeila or Larache. Permission was obtained from the Spaniards for these harmless stores to pass into their zone. Fifty or sixty beasts would go out of Tangier, their panniers burdened for the needs of Larache, but, at a certain farm where they always arrived at night, their loads would be changed, as also the direction of their journey. Before dawn my ammunition was at my gates!

“Besides these supplies I had hand-grenades which Jordana had given me for use against the common enemy, and a certain number of guns, but few of my men knew how to use them. As always, my policy was to defend, not to attack, and, for this reason, I lost fewer men than my enemies. Great masses of troops are useless in this country. They are cramped and there is no room for them to disperse, when swept by hidden fire. I have seen Spaniards fall as quickly as hail in the mountains, because there were too many of them together. Berenguer’s advance was methodical, and he crowned each hill with a fort, surrounding it with wire or sandbags, but it is not difficult to besiege such places, and a good number fell into our hands. My men made a collection of Spanish uniforms, and sometimes wearing them, they would approach quite close to a column, throw their bombs, and escape in the confusion.

“Once this had been done very successfully by some men of Beni Aros. Retiring swiftly from the fight, leaving the enemy with several dead, they came to a small wadi where the water was good. ‘Let us stay here and rest,’ said one. ‘The Spaniards are busy now with their spades.’ The leader urged that it was too near the lines of the enemy, but it was hot and there appeared to be no danger. So they stayed by the stream, and some lay down and opened their uniforms, for they did not like the tight jackets of the Spaniards. An hour or two passed, for there is no time in our country, and with an Arab a thought is always more valuable than a deed. Suddenly the watch they had posted looked over his shoulder and signalled the approach of an enemy. Before the others could hide themselves and while they still stared back the way they had come, imagining they were pursued, a Spanish column appeared from the opposite direction and walked almost on top of them. ‘Give us water,’ said the first rank, and fumbled for a second too long. Even then they got in the first shots, but one was killed and one wounded as they retreated, their leader shouting, ‘Buen Dios, you may have all the water that is left!’ He was determined to show off his Spanish!

“This was at the beginning of the war, when men still laughed and believed that the ‘baraka’ of the Sherif was stronger than the artillery of Spain. In those days I said often to the Ulema, ‘Allah will save us when it is his will, but we shall be driven to the edge of our country, and safety will not come from our arms.’

“At first the Spanish troops were insufficiently provided with material (of war), and my people rejoiced, for they thought it would be an easy matter to defeat them. Berenguer did not realise how many men he would lose, so there were not enough hospitals. The transport was delayed by the roughness of the track. Maps were not reliable, and columns lost themselves among the hills. My captains were confident of success, but I knew that it would only be for a little. The Government at Madrid was composed of my enemies, for the Liberals have always been against me. Soon new troops would be disembarked and, though their very numbers might tell against them, we should be crushed by the weight of their metal. Under Allah, I trusted to two things—first, that the Government would fall in time, secondly, that the Spaniards would get disheartened by their heavy losses and that my old allies, the journalists, would come to my aid! It is easy to take every village in my country, but you cannot take the country itself. When every rock and cave is armed against an invader there is no one upon whom he can retaliate.

“All through the summer my headquarters were at the Fondak, which we held without much difficulty, though the Spaniards made a great effort to occupy Wadi Ras. It was in the hottest days of the year,[92] when sleeping is preferable to fighting. The Spanish columns advanced from Ceuta and Tetuan in order to take the hills north of the Wadi, but I had prepared a stratagem. The two columns were to come in sight of each other at a certain place, but they would not join until their objective was reached. Men of Anjera were to guide them through the tortuous defiles, and the Anjera have never been difficult to bribe! Money was the one thing that was always plentiful with us, for my wealth was banked, beyond reach of the Spaniards. The chosen guides lost themselves happily with a bag of douros, and some loyal men took their places. Thus one column was skilfully guided South-east and one South-west, and, when the officers complained, they were told it was in order to avoid ground unfit for artillery. As the gap widened between them, a third column appeared, apparently also marching from the coast. It consisted of nearly two hundred men, dressed in grey uniforms, with mounted officers, who marched in European fashion, putting handkerchiefs and leaves under their helmets as a protection against the sun. With them were the mules of a mountain battery, and the leaders gave them orders in Spanish. In time, communication was established between this force and the one on their left, and the first waited on a ridge for the second to pass below it into the valley.

“The battery was out of sight of those beneath, and it should have worked havoc, but my men were slow at mounting it, and only one gun spoke. When the strange column halted on the high ground, the men had moved apart, as if to watch their comrades below, and each man was standing carelessly by a stone or a bush. The leader raised his field- glasses to look at a distant hill, and, at the signal, every soldier disappeared. In a second the ridge vomited fire, and the Spanish column was trapped. A few snipers had been posted opposite, and these made a great show of their firing, that the enemy might think they were between two large parties.

“There was slaughter in the valley, as you see before the hill Zawias on a feast day, or in the butcher’s precincts after a market. At first the Spaniards did not understand, and they fired wildly, not knowing where was the enemy. As half of them were killed and a man had only time to see that the one at his side was dead before he fell across him, panic arose, for there was no way out of the trap. Men screamed and dropped their rifles, stumbled over dead bodies, and were trampled among them. A few lay amidst the rocks and shot steadily at the smoke which rolled above them. One, who was brave, lay still with the dead, and, when my men thought it was finished, and came down to take the rifles and cartridge-belts from the bodies, he killed two and wounded a third before they cut off his head. I think the Spaniards lost a hundred or a hundred and fifty men that day, and our casualties were perhaps six; but this did not occur again! Many heads were brought into the villages, and the women stuck twigs in their eyes and put them upon the topmost spikes of the hedges.

[Illustration: Azeila from the air]

“When their work was done, the Anjera guides slipped away and found shelter behind our lines, but the man who led the other column was suspected of treachery, and they tied him to the tail of one of the horses, so that he could not escape, and, to save his life, he was obliged to lead the enemy to the point they had indicated to him. Things did not go much better for them there, for they had not enough food or ammunition with them, and I had posted a party of men with bombs to blow up the troop who brought their supplies. There is no wide road in Wadi Ras, and, everywhere, a few men can hide and do much damage. The bombers divided into several groups and threw their grenades from convenient places above the heads of the Spaniards. A few men were wounded, and three mules killed, but the others pressed on, thinking that the ambush was passed. A few hundred yards further on, the same thing happened, and, in great confusion, carrying their wounded on such mules as were left, the troop fell into the third trap. After this they retired, thinking that the whole valley was lined with death. This left the column at Wadi Ras isolated among the northern hills, where, if we had put a ring of snipers round them and besieged them, they would have been helpless, for their ammunition was low and they wasted their bullets.

“News had been brought to me that a force (under Barera) was on its way from Larache, so I saw that an end must be made of the affair. I sent messengers from Beni Aros, of such families as had had dealings with the Spaniards, to inform Barera that he was too late. With much distress, they were to explain that the remnants of the columns had retired towards Ceuta and Tetuan, and that the forces of the sheriff were in strength at Wadi Ras. That night we set forth to render the words true! The enemy occupied a ridge which was steep on one side, but easy of access from the other. A few tribesmen made a pretence of attacking the gentle slopes, firing and shouting the war-cry of their people, as if it were only a sortie from some village which wanted to collect a few rifles. After they had drawn the attention of the Spaniards, some horsemen galloped up in a long line and blazed over the heads of the first party. They were good targets and a few were killed, upon which the others made a feint of retiring, but, in reality, as soon as they were out of sight, they dropped down among the scrub and waited. The horsemen stood up and urged their horses up the hill at full speed, firing as they rode, but, when the enemy would have met this charge, they wheeled round and fled, sliding over the rough ground on their haunches, still discharging their rifles and shouting. The enemy followed, but there were few wounded, for the voluminous robes of the Moors received more bullets than their bodies.

“The clamour was intentional, for it had covered the approach of the real force which crept goat-like up the crags, in single file. On this side the ridge was scarcely guarded, and the few sentries were easily overpowered by the first tribesmen who climbed, with a knife between their teeth. The end was very easy. My men were on the ridge before the majority of the enemy turned from chasing the horsemen of el Arbi. They fought stubbornly, sending several tribesmen to paradise, but they were overpowered and driven backwards down the slopes to the ambush which awaited them.

“That was the second night of the battle in Wadi Ras, and on the third there was little left to do. The column from the West had not arrived, but there were still stragglers who had reformed from the others, intent on reaching the coast, and some isolated posts which had lost communication with the main body. Excited by their victory, the tribesmen would not be restrained, and they killed many hundreds of wounded and threw themselves recklessly upon any Spaniards who were still in the country. Once again there were murders in the coast towns, and, in one place, the Arabs laid a plot to destroy all the Christians. It was arranged that the tribesmen should enter the city secretly in small numbers, with no rifles and in the clothes of townsmen, but, under his waistcoat, each man would carry a revolver. They would meet in the square and mix separately with the people in the hour after sunset, when all the Europeans come out to profit by the cool. Then, at a given signal, each man would fire, and kill as many as he could.

“Allah was not with them, and there was a mistake. Many had entered the town safely, but the guard challenged one group at the gate. Frightened that the plot would be discovered, the tribesmen fired and killed some of the guard. They broke into the town, but warning had been given to the citizens, who rushed for their arms. The tribesmen were scattered, and there was little fighting, though some were killed with bullets which were fired without purpose. Three men were captured, but they knew nothing of the plot and had only used their weapons to be in company with the rest.

“After the battle in Wadi Ras, the tribes gave praise to Allah and thought that shortly there would not be a Christian left in the country. It was useless that I said to them, ‘Our success has signed the judgment against us,’ for I knew that Silvestre would crush Spain between his hands for men and money to destroy me. I redoubled my efforts to supply the needs of Jebala against a long campaign. Even the prisons were used as stores, and no man was allowed to sell his harvest. Much grain had been destroyed by the enemy, and they had taken the beasts, or killed them, if they had no time to drive them away. This is against the law of Islam, by which it is forbidden to destroy the food, or poison the water, of an enemy.

“For two months we had little fighting, for the Spaniards were waiting for reinforcements. I knew what was before us, for I heard that the harbours were never empty of ships, and that, from them, were landed aeroplanes, and armoured cars, and bombs with gas in them that men cannot breathe. Ullah, what strange people you are! You say it is savage to cut men’s heads off when they are dead and their bodies without feeling, but it is civilised to stifle the living man with poisonous fumes, so that he dies slowly and his body decays while his spirit is still in it! Allah will decide between us!

“While all these preparations were being made against us and the coast was covered with troops, the wharves piled with ammunition, a deputation came to me from many tribes, including the Guezauia, the Riffs of Gomara, the Beni Gorfet, and the Sumata, who were the last to stop fighting against the Christians. They asked me to go up to Sidi Abd es Salaam to meet the Sheikhs of all the loyal tribes and to swear an oath with them. I agreed, for I knew that still more armaments must come before the attack would be renewed. I took with me my nephew and el Kharaji and the Jellali who commanded my cavalry; and the oldest of all my slaves, Ba Salim, held my stirrup as I rode.

“We started early in the dawn, and I remembered that other ride to meet Jordana at Guad Agraz, but this time my salutations were for my own people—who knows the intentions of Allah! We stayed one night in Tazrut where I was joined by the Kaids of Beni Aros and two hundred of my soldiers. The next day we rode up Jebel Alan, but the start was delayed because, from all over the country, men hurried to ride with me, and the women were busy cooking rice and bread. When all had been fed and the morning prayer had been said in the mosque, for there was no room for the multitude in the Zawia, we left Tazrut and started up the first slopes. Below us the village was white and prosperous under the protection of the tree which is sacred in my family. If anything should destroy it, the fortunes of the Raisuli Sherifs would wither, so my house is built round it, and there are walls to protect its growth.

“It is said that my ancestor, Mohamed, said his prayers under a venerable oak,[93] and, because he was then hiding from his enemies, and had no food, he ate the acorns[94] that fell from it. The mercy of Allah turned them into bread in his mouth, and his hunger was satisfied. He renewed his prayers, and when he noticed that the old tree above him was falling, he planted one of the acorns in the ground and blessed it. Later on, when some of his disciples were restored to him, he brought them to Tazrut and showed them the acorn sprouting from the ground. ‘It is the child of the tree whose fruit saved me,’ he said, ‘and my children shall serve it.’ Then he told his disciples to build a fence round it and watch it, ‘for,’ said he, ‘my strength is ebbing with that of the old tree, but all shall be given to my house, more than my tongue can speak of, or my words embrace. They shall be the most powerful in the land as long as they remember the gratitude the Sherifs owe to this oak.’ It is said, also, that on the day he died, and there was mourning among the villages of Beni Aros, a great wind came and blew down the tree, but the seedling remained, and it is now nearly as old as its ancestor. Some of its branches have been destroyed, but no bombs touched it, for it is the will of Allah that the Raisuli still live.

“We rode up to Jebel Alan in a long line which reached halfway down to the village, and it was sunset before we reached the sanctuary. Each man dismounted and said his prayers where he stood, and the mountain was one voice praising Allah, for there were many thousand tribesmen, more than I have ever seen before Sidi Abd es Salaam. There were strangers to me, even among the Kaids, and I knew that some great thing would happen. All kissed my sleeve, or even my shoe as it was in the stirrup, or the trappings that were on my horse, but there was no speech. In silence we reached the summit, and the tribesmen fell back, ranging themselves upon the ground, till every space was covered. The Ulema from the Zawia of Teledi, the wisest men in Morocco, had come down from the peaks of Ahmas, and the Sheikhs of Beni Aros were there in their full number, though some were so great in years that their strength had gone from their eyes to their beards.

“No man broke his fast that night, but all waited for the hour when the Hezb would be chanted. The moon was full, and there was no other light. It seemed as if the clouds of the sky had descended and the whole earth gathered itself together and listened. The Sheikhs’ white robes were immobile by the wall of Abd es Salaam, but the brown jellabas of the tribesmen stirred in the shadows. Murmurs that were not words ran among them, and Allah was in our midst. At last the cry of the first Azzan broke against the rocks, and the thousand voices echoed it, till all Jebel Alan was a tongue in prayer. The Imam of Teledi repeated the Hezb and the mountain bowed itself towards Mecca. There were those who said the earth really moved and trembled under our feet. At the end of the prayers there was silence, and then, in moonlight, that was brighter than the day, the Sheikhs of the tribes spoke, each one in his turn. They told how it was ordered that battle should be made against the unbeliever, and they recited the life of the Prophet, showing his victories and also his defeats. They told how paradise waited for the slayer of the Christian and how the Prophet suffered when he, too, was homeless and fled from Mecca. ‘If your villages are destroyed by the enemy, your house is Islam,’ exclaimed a Sheikh of many years, whose voice tore the strength out of his body, and the tribesmen cried out that a foreigner should never rest his foot in the mountains.

“Men rocked themselves backwards and forwards, and repeated the name of Allah, till some foamed at the mouth and were sightless. Still the Sheikhs spoke of war, and the men of Beni Aros leaped up and shouted, ‘We follow the Sherif!’ Far away the cry echoed, like stones falling into a valley, and every throat bore it back again—‘We follow the Sherif! Allah protect the life of our master!’ Then the Imam of Teledi mounted on the wall and pointed over the falling hills. ‘That way lie the Christians, and it is _your_ way; but the man who leads you is Sultan of the Jehad!’”[95]

Raisuli’s voice rang in momentary triumph. Then he was silent. Menebbhe gripped my arm and would not let me speak. . . . It was much later that the Sherif, rousing himself with an effort which was apparent, continued, “In this manner I was proclaimed the leader of the Holy War against the Christians, and it is against the echoes of that night that the Spaniards fight today in the Riff. When the Ulema had finished speaking, sound roared up the mountain like flames in a wind. Men laughed and sang, shouted and prayed, and nobody knew what his neighbour was saying. A single shot rose above the voices, and instantly every rifle spoke. It was the voice of the mountain again, thundering her challenge against the threat of the Christians. When the shots ceased—and this was after a long time, for some were slow and some were far away, but all would swear their loyalty by the oath of lead—a Sheikh of Sumata spoke: ‘Your bullets are for the Christians. Do not waste them even before Allah.’ Then I mounted and would have ridden down a little way, but my horse stepped on men’s bodies, for the tribesmen threw themselves before me.” Again there was silence. A bee blundered against the curtain, buzzing, and, from outside, came the shrill, thin sound of a pipe. “You are greatly honoured,” whispered Badr ed Din. “I have never heard the Sherif talk of that day, nor has he ever spoken in this manner before.”